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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 months

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Bad Faith Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+. Minors, kindly get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Read this over six times but there are probably twenty typos that I'll spot the second I hit post, so. Anyway! Welcome to part two of two!! Thank you for reading 💖

Length: 14.2k

Warnings: Angst; fluff! Huzzah!; Reader’s married surname is Hayward; reader is depressed for swaths of the chapter; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, oral sex, hate sex, safe sex

Summary: Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought.

“Ross. Mike Ross.”

“Cut the Bond schtick.”

“I’m a contender.”

“Not a chance. Besides, we’ve been over this; you’re Q at best.”

“Could do a lot worse than Desmond Llewelyn or Ben Whishaw—Hang on, you think you’re Bond?”

Harvey stopped, gesturing over his body sweepingly before scoffing, “Please.”

“Please is right,” Mike muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You always go to this thing?”

“...I’ve been once or twice.” In truth, Harvey hadn’t been to the New York City Estate and Properties gala in years. He hadn’t had occasion or reason; the last time he had, he’d made sure that she wouldn’t be there before he’d agreed. Tonight his purpose was manifold—drink good champagne, eat good food, and warn Hayward off of pursuing his lawsuits against his client’s property.

His client. It wasn’t as simple as all that, but these days, he’d managed to separate her from the work. It was clinical—and clinical was exactly what he needed.

“Did you see the menu for dinner? I didn’t see a menu.”

“Get your fill of canapes. I’m talking to Hayward and then we’re going.”

“What?” Mike pouted. “But I thought we were staying for the ceremony.”

“You thought wrong. Keep your eyes peeled. Sooner we get this conversation over, the sooner we can get away from this den of cobras.”

“Never have a mongoose when you need one.” Mike nodded over Harvey’s shoulder. “Found Mrs. Hayward.”

“Thought she didn’t like you calling her that.”

“She doesn’t, but around here, it might be better to use that rather than use her maiden name and have someone ask me who the hell I’m talking about…You gonna talk to her?”

“What for?”

“So she at least knows what suit to look for when she wants to avoid you.”

Harvey’s chastising glare was met with a wide, smug grin.

“Come on,” Mike groaned. “You haven’t spoken to her in weeks.”

“And have you considered that that may be why things have been going so smoothly?”

“Fine—I’ll give you another reason you should say hi to her.”

“You better make it a good one this time.”

“Jessica is catching on to the fact that you haven’t touched this case with a ten foot pole.”

Harvey winced slightly as he swallowed the last of his champagne.

“Fine,” He grudgingly conceded, setting the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Point me.”

“She’s at your two o’clock.”

Harvey turned accordingly, pushed out an annoyed sight—and then felt what breath he had left catch in his throat.

‘Stunning’ was the first word that came to mind, but in his heart, Harvey knew that it didn’t do her justice. For his lingering, abiding annoyance with her, and with them—with the whole goddamn situation—there were moments when Harvey remembered why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.

She didn’t want to be there. Harvey didn’t need to ask to know that—it was common sense. But that didn’t stop her from showing her face, from being impeccably dressed, and maintaining what had to be a meticulously constructed poker face.

“...You do know what staring isn’t talking, right?”

Mike’s amusement cut into Harvey’s reverie, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself.

“Keep an eye out for Hayward,” Harvey ordered before he forced himself forward, slowly weaving through the crowd.

What the hell was he even going to say to her? Hi wasn’t going to cut it; Come here often? Was almost as stupid. How about something about her dress—Whether or not it was new? That had to be safe, neutral ground—

Harvey had been so focused on what he planned to say that he hadn’t clocked her turning to face him. He chalked it up to panic radar—her hype-sesitivity given the current situation. He stared. She watched. And then—

“Come here often?”

Damnit. Stupid, sure, but at least it wasn’t hi.

“...Annually, at least.”

Was it your imagination, or was Harvey…Nervous? At the very least, he seemed as confused as you were at the fact that he was talking to you.

“I’m a little surprised that you made a showing,” He admitted.

“I could say the same for you. Does Jessica have you prospecting clients to get back in the good graces of the real estate department at the firm?”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed with playful intrigue,and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man that you used to know—the man who gave you that same look when you slipped your panties off and tucked them into his jacket pocket to find later.

“What did Mike tell you?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing around.

“Nothing impor—...Tant.” You trailed off, falling still and quiet as your eyes landed on Steven.

Well, he was hard to miss.

Standing at 6’3, with a manufactured tan, swimmer’s build, full head of gracefully graying hair, and veneers that made his smile look like a neatly arranged row of chiclets gum, Steven Hayward was the very picture of the kind of health that only wealth could buy. With the stress of the last few weeks, you knew that you weren’t looking your absolute best. You’d had so many sleepless nights; you’d swapped out your favorite catered meals in favor of cheaper alternatives, or dollar slices of pizza, or ramen from the bodega down the block from your apartment, pulled gently from beneath the cat that seemed to always be napping on the exact flavor that you wanted.

You were certain that Steven lost no sleep over the decision to divorce you, or to pull the rug out from beneath you. You expected him to be in tip-top shape—but you saw hints of his rage as he grew closer.

“Oh—Hell,” You mumbled, tipping your head toward Harvey. “You might wanna clear out.”

“You kidding? I’ve got a front row seat to the prize fight of the century.”

“Target acquired.”

You frowned at the sound of Mike’s voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him as you muttered, “Target?”

“Darling.” The term of affection oozed past Steven’s bleached-white teeth. He stopped just a couple of steps from you—not near enough to touch, but close enough to see the anger sparkling in his dishwater gray eyes. A pulse of vindication swept through your chest at the tense smile, and the tight pull of his jaw.

“Steven,” You greeted cordially.

“I’m surprised to see you this evening.”

“If I had a nickel.”

“Oh, but you do. Putting all of those properties up for sale, I expect you plan on having more than a few nickels.”

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta get by.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Have you considered unfreezing our joint account?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Anything but that.”

“Then wire me half.”

“You haven't earned half.”

It was meant to cut you down and lay you out, but you refused to bow to this man publicly when the other attendees must always hold you in such low regard as it was.

“I agree,” You offered, and before Steven could preen in his false superiority, you clarified: “I deserve more.”

Steven bristled, shoulders bunching tight.

“Perhaps I should just take this evening’s expenses out of that half.”

You furrowed your brow pointedly, shaking your head.

“Mmm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Really.”

“Mm…N—...No—?”

“Perhaps you’ve been so busy hocking your clothes like a dog snuffling for scraps—” Your face flared with embarrassment as Steven pressed on: “But there was meant to be a reception at my penthouse this evening.”

My penthouse. If it had only been the two of you in that room, you may have slapped him. How had he been able to detach, to force you from his mind and his heart so quickly? Had he ever loved you? Had any man?

The heat of Harvey’s body suddenly seemed to flare just behind you.

“Ah!” You nodded sagely, “It’s all coming back to me.”

“What could have happened there, I wonder?”

“You must not have taken care.”

“Of what?”

Of me. “Of anything.”

Steven took you in for another long, cruel moment before he jutted his chin over your shoulder.

“Friends of yours?”

Ah yes. Your personal legal peanut gallery. You glanced back to confirm their positioning before raising your hand to gesture:

“This is Mike Ross.” The name seemed to knock something loose in Steven’s mind as he shook Mike’s hand.

“Ah, Mr. Ross. I saw your name on some documentation this morning.”

“You’re about to see it a lot more, Mr. Hayward.”

“And this is Harvey Specter.”

Your stomach lurched as Steve’s eyes widened slightly, lips curling into a smile.

“This is Harvey Specter?” He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he proffered his hand. ”I didn’t realize I sent you the worst possible port in this storm.”

“You didn’t,” Harvey insisted, grasping Steven’s hand firmly. “You sent her to the best.”

“Try not to drop her this time. My arms aren’t open anymore.”

Your hands tightened where they were clasped around one another. You forced yourself to keep your gaze set stalwartly on Steven, rather than watch the contentious (and no doubt, painful) handshake that the two of them were sharing.

“Well,” You chirped. “This was a lovely little catch-up.”

“Yes,” Harvey chimed in, finally extricating his hand from Steven’s and tucking it into his pocket. “We must do it again sometime. Preferably at a deposition.”

“Maybe in court,” Mike added. You had to fight down a smile at the sudden swell of support, and a wave of warmth that swept through you. Steven’s eyes narrowed just a touch more before he nodded.

“I do hope you’ll stay for my speech.”

“Who’d you have write it for you this time?” You asked.

“I took a crack at writing it myself.”

If that was true, it was sure to be a mess and a half. You always had been the one to draft his speeches or remarks—or you paired down any drafts sent over by the agency’s PR department.

“I look forward to it.”

Steven gave you one last look before he turned away, slapping on his businessman smile as he went, and raising a hand to signal someone like a politician trying to garner votes.

“...Why didn’t you mention the forgery charges?” Mike asked.

“It’s too soon to tip our hand...What table are you sitting at?”

“Thirteen,” You sighed.

“Lucky number,” Mike muttered.

“Go change our place cards,” Harvey ordered. “Put us on either side of her.”

You whirled around to face him, stunned at the tight irritation pinching his features.

“So we are staying for dinner?” Mike grinned. Harvey blinked flatly at him before reiterating: “Go.”

You watched Mike duck through the crowd, heading for the dining room.

“Were you not going to stay for dinner?”

“I’ve gotta eat some time. Come on,” Harvey nudged your arm with his, “Buy me a drink.”

“It’s an open bar.”

“Good. Then it won’t break the bank.”

The press of Harvey’s warm hand to your lower back was far more steadying than it should have been, and it managed to dampen the enraged fire in your belly.

“How’s that good faith deposit doing, anyway?”

“I threw 98% of it into an HYSA.”

“Smart move.”

“I should’ve made moves like it sooner.”

“Better late than never.”

“I guess.”

“...You don’t have to stay for dinner.”

“We’re going to.”

“On either side of me as well, I’m flattered. I wasn’t planning on having guard dogs this evening.”

“As long as you don’t try to keep us on short leashes.”

“Depends on whether you plan on doing more barking or biting this evening.”

“I’ve barked enough for now.”

“Biting?”

“If you play your cards right, sure.”

You didn’t bother to hide your open shock at the blatant implication, but when you looked at Harvey, you found him giving you a surprisingly warm smile.

“Looks like speaking with Steven has put a little pep in your step, Mr. Specter.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“What did?”

Harvey leaned heavily against the bar, focus set elsewhere as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye.

“You and I both know that this is going to be a long road. I like a good fight.”

“You don’t say.”

“It’s important to me that you’re ready for it, too.”

You nodded a little. “It may also be prudent for us to keep that fight directed at Steven, and not toward one another.”

Harvey took the two proffered champagne flutes, passing you one and holding it up to cheers:

“I’ll drink to that.”

It wasn’t perfect right away. You and Harvey still butt heads from time to time. On the purchases that the judges ruled that you were able to move forward with, you disagreed over terms—purchase price, contingencies, negotiations. But the knots unpicked sooner and sooner, and you reached resolutions faster. Mike hardly had to intervene anymore. Harvey gave Jessica status updates openly, and you abidingly ignored the smug, self-satisfied smiles that she gave you as you left her office.

With the service and tenancy contracts, the two apartment building sales that aren’t mired in paperwork still chugged along slowly. You knew that it was protocol, but it was excruciating. You felt ill every time you got an email from Mike or Harvey, expecting correspondence that spelled disaster. Every little bit of good news only brought marginal relief.

You spent most of your days in your apartment, packaging clothing or jewelry that you’d sold online. You got your packages sent off by five in the evening, and the rest of your night was your own—though it often ended similarly. Your logical mind often gave over to your emotions in the evening, and you allowed yourself to slip into quiet, depressed oblivion. The methods varied—slurping down two packets worth of dollar-pack ramen, and chasing that with a few bottles of beer as one of your favorite shows played in the background; curling up in your bed and staring at the ceiling at 8 PM, and laying wide awake with your mind racing until the sun came up; hunting through property listings online and plotting a comeback that felt like it would never come.

You never had visitors. Aaron was so entrenched at work that you only got the odd text from him. Your former friends seemed to have further aligned themselves with Steven after his triumphant speech at the gala—during which he had gone out of his way to omit any mention of you from his historical record. You had avoided seeing much of Jessica outside of the office, certain that she would council you on a good divorce lawyer, or encourage you to begin dating, or level another lecture about the stupidity with which you had bungled your last marriage.

For as well as you knew she meant, you didn’t have the time or patience—and some little part of you, some stupid, naïve part that knew well enough that the war was already lost, was convinced that Steven would change his mind.

It was unlikely, considering the magnitude of his cruelty over the last couple of months, and further exacerbated by your actions before the gala. Steven would not let you back into his arms, his home, or his heart. You didn’t truly want to be let back into his arms, or his heart, but you missed his home. You had taken such care in the planning, the curation, the furnishing, the upkeep. You were proud of it. You had been happy, and comfortable, and so goddamn foolish.

Now you were tired, and lonely, and you spent so much of your day feeling stupid.

Sometimes, when the wind blew just a little too hard and rattled the flimsy windows, you let the sound of it cover your sobs against the paper-thin walls that connected you to your neighbor’s apartment (you’d learned just how much sound bled through when you first became privy to your neighbor’s light argument, which had then turned into a full-on shouting match. They’d sounded like they were in the same damn room with you, wall be damned).

It was one such sob session that you managed to hear someone knock on your door. You sniffled, shifting on your bed. You were certain that the sound was from next door, or that you’d misheard the rattle of the window. But when you heard the second, insistent round of knocks, the source couldn’t be mistaken. You sniffled, setting your beer aside onto the bedside table crowded with empties and pushing yourself off of the bed. You swiped haphazardly at the tears on your face as you walked over to it, calling out, “Alright, for fuckssake!” When a third round of knocks rapped against the door.

You threw it open, finally, wincing at the invasive flash of the flickering fluorescent hall light. You weren’t sure what was worse: the flickering, harsh strobe, or Harvey’s stunned confusion.

It may have been a tie.

“…What is it?” You mumbled.

“Have you been crying?”

“Little bit.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Getting there.”

“…Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed,” Harvey insisted, nodding over your shoulder. “We’re going out.”

“Harvey, I’m really not in the mood,” You sniffled.

“We won’t go far.”

“Then why are we going at all?”

Harvey opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a sudden crash! and the swell of yelling voices from next door. His eyes darted toward it before he nodded.

“I’m not listening to that all night.”

“Who the hell says you’re going to be here more than five minutes?”

Your heart stuttered as Harvey’s hands planted firmly on your hips, steering you back into your studio before he nudged the door shut with his foot.

“Get dressed. And hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what it was—his touch, his firm insistence, or your own distaste for your screaming neighbors—but you turned around and began dutifully rifling through one of your remaining trash bags of clothing.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a diner around the corner.”

“A diner? How down heel of you, Mr. Specter.”

“I can appreciate the simple things.”

You snorted, straightening with a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Since when.” You glanced guardedly toward him before you nodded him toward the door. “Turn around.”

“You can afford better than that place, you know.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you shoved a handful of cheese fries in your mouth and leaned back to chew with laborious slowness. You expected Harvey to fill the silence, but he didn’t. He just watched, and waited, and stared at you until you swallowed. You nudged the plate toward him, offering: “Want one?”

You avoided his openly chastising gaze, tired of the fact that it was the only look you get from most of the lawyers in your life these days.

“You have that good faith deposit.”

“I told you where it went.”

“The brownstone payment is on the edge of clearing escrow. Look for somewhere else to live.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Steven isn’t going to weasel into every potential deal and hold it up.”

“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I don’t exactly have many friends in this city anymore.”

“...Are you planning on going somewhere else?”

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind. There were cities here you could rebuild your life and your practices, places where you were sure Steven wouldn’t bother to try and strike down your attempts to rebuild your life.

“Maybe,” You admitted. “I liked Cambridge.”

Harvey’s lips twitched with a gentle, regretful smile. It was his turn to reach out and swipe a few fries and chow down.

“Realty up there is pricey,” You added. “Could make a polite killing on student housing.”

“How does one make a polite killing?”

“Decent rent and coin-operated laundry. Maybe some paid parking, a few overpriced but conveniently placed vending machines.”

“Redbull?”

“I was just thinking about snacks, but you know what, Redbull isn’t a bad idea.” You reached out, picking up a fry and drawing it through the splodge of ketchup remaining at the edge of the plate. “Why did you come over?”

“I wanted to let you know that the inspections are finished.”

“On which?”

“The properties that you didn’t know about.”

“Anything stand out?”

“A foundational issue on one of the apartment buildings, but it doesn’t cost enough that it should’ve stopped work.”

“What about the others?”

“Nothing that popped as catastrophic.”

“You have the print-outs?”

“In my car.”

“Why are they in there?”

“I was going to offer to take you for a drink, but you seemed to beat me to it.”

You scoffed, shifting in your seat. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, Specter.”

“You do that often?”

“What, drink?”

“Yes.”

“Are you accusing me of having a problem?”

“I’m asking if you do that often.”

“Once in a while.”

“New for you?”

“Relatively.”

Harvey eyed you critically for a few moments before he nodded. “Call me the next time you want to have a drink.”

“So you can talk me out of it?”

“So you at least don’t do it alone.”

“I’m usually not in a talking mood when it happens.”

“We don’t have to talk.”

“Oh, please. As if you don’t love the sound of your own voice.”

“Call me anyway.”

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “You know, the thought of you dropping by may just be an effective suppressant.”

Harvey’s smile widened a little. “Do you want to put the other houses on the market?”

“I want to walk through the apartment buildings myself before I go through them.”

“What about the ones in the Hamptons and the Cape?”

“I’ll drive up.”

“And Gstaad?”

“A little trickier.”

“Could bill it.”

“I doubt it.”

“You could, under discovery.”

“This would not be covered under discovery.”

“How would you know that?”

“I’m sorry, remind me who used to quiz you for the bar?”

Harvey scoffed softly, averting his gaze to the diner counter. “Well, this may surprise you, but a few laws have changed since then.”

“And this may surprise you, but not only am I aware of that, I’ve also been pretty deeply entwined with lawyers since then. So I’m pretty comfortable making that assertion.”

“And this? You think I’m not billing for this?”

“Oh, I hope you are. I hope you bill for every second that it took you to walk up the steps to my apartment. I want Jessica to pay for my cheese fries. You know why?”

“Because it would kill her?”

“It would drive her nuts.”

“I can’t wait to give her the itemized total.”

“I await the enraged phone call.”

“You don’t have to walk me back up, you know."

“Sure I do. Gotta work off those fries. Besides, I’m billing for this until I officially drop you off.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging Harvey’s shoulder with yours. Your depressed, tear-ridden, sobbing buzz had worn off over the course of dinner, and you didn’t think that the mood would creep back in once you were alone again.

“I’ll walk through the apartment buildings tomorrow and see if I can get up to the Cape at some point in the next couple of weeks. The pictures and notes from the inspection look promising. If I dip into the good faith deposit, maybe I could get the Cape Cod house fixed up and sold before the summer.”

“Or you could keep it as a rental property.”

“Mm.” “You always liked the Cape in the winter…For some reason.”

“I kinda like when it’s all grey and gloomy…and quiet.”

“Be a good base for your Cambridge operation.”

“Oh, please,” You chuckled. “It’s not even close. The red line doesn’t exactly go all the way to Hyannis.”

The two of you slowed as you neared your landing, listening closely.

“...Think the coast is clear?” Harvey murmured.

“For now, at least.” You fished into your pocket for your keys. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Sure. Remember what I said.”

“I will.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

Anything. That was new. You nodded, gaze set on your keys as he turned to go back downstairs.

“...Harvey?”

“Yeah?” He stopped just a few steps away, and you had to scrounge up your courage to turn and look at him again.

“I don’t, um…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna wanna talk about it.” You watched Harvey’s face shift with grim understanding.

“I don’t want to litigate that.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“Not like this.”

“Not tonight,” You reiterated, “But…Sometime. Please.”

Harvey’s jaw went tight, but he gave you a short, firm nod before he turned away. You watched him round the corner, and listened until his footsteps faded and the front door opened downstairs.

The apartment buildings weren’t anything special. Stripped of most of their insulation, and with several of the windows already removed, the wind that pushed through them made the buildings sound like they were breathing. It was eerie, and chilly. You tightened your coat around yourself as you went from floor to floor, eyeing damaged pipes, areas where someone seems to have come in and rooted around for copper wiring, and the billowing plastic that marks off some doors that have been removed.

The paperwork on this building listed the purchase date as nearly a year ago.

A year ago, you and Steven had been discussing expanding your current operations. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. Maybe he’d bought you the buildings as a present and stopped work when things turned sour…Whenever that had been.

There had been signs, sure, but Steven always had been temperamental.

You pushed the thought away as you drew in a deep breath, turning toward the stairs. It wouldn’t do to overthink this just now. If needed, you could panic looking at the Hamptons, or Cape Cod…Or Gstaad, if you ever found a way to get to Gstaad.

You reached into your pocket as your phone buzzed, drawing it out to find an incoming call. You groaned, stomping your foot petulantly before you raised it to your ear.

“Jessica, I’m a little busy—”

“I need you to come into the office.”

Your fingers tightened around your phone as your palm began to sweat.

“What happened?”

“I’d rather discuss this in person.” “Jessica.”

“Come to the office.”

She hung up without another word. You swallowed thickly, lowering your phone and watching her call blink and then disappear. If she wasn’t willing to discuss it over the phone, whatever it was had to be very, very bad.

“Cheese fries?”

“Jessica,” You groaned, “Come on, there is no way that that’s why you called me here.”

“No, it isn’t. But I’d like to remind you that you should remain fighting fit and cheese fries are not the way to do it.”

“My life has fallen apart and dipped into a moderately humiliating place. I think I’m allowed to have a few cheese fries. Why did you tell me to come in.”

“I have someone that I would like you to meet.”

“I’m not going to start dating anyone now.”

“Well, we can attack that another time. This is for your defense.”

“Harvey’s on that.”

“Your divorce.”

“You know that I can’t afford a defense right now.”

“I don’t mind getting a start while you get the pieces in place.”

The man’s voice caught you off-guard, and you turned to find a man leaning in the doorway. Your brow furrowed a touch as you took him in—the long lean of his body, the neatly fitted charcoal suit and sky-blue tie, the curl of his dark hair, the twinkle of his warm chestnut eyes, and his small, intrigued smile.

“Well that’s very kind of you, whoever the hell you are, but I don’t exactly have anything on the board right now.”

“The fact that you even have a board is encouraging.”

“...This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.”

“This,” Jessica stepped past you to gesture the man deeper into the room, “Is David Alford.”

“Alford?” You repeated. “Like the plea?”

“No relation. What would you know about an Alford plea?”

“I know of it.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, I used to date a lawyer.”

“Lucky guy.”

“I don’t think he’d agree with you, as evidenced by the fact that he is no longer my boyfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand lightly, still wary from the ambush.

“Look, Mr. Alford—”

“David, please.”

“—I don’t know what Jessica’s told you about my situation—”

“She didn’t have to tell me much. Forgive my bluntness, but your name has come up in our circles over the last couple of weeks.”

“Well, forgive my bluntness, but it’s not my circle anymore.”

“It could be again.”

“Are you going to get me a circle back in the divorce?”

“I’m gonna get you whatever the hell you want in your divorce.”

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, unable to help yourself.

“O-kay,” You lowered your hand.

“Why don’t I see what we can do about getting some coffee,” Jessica offered. “You two talk.”

Your brows furrowed as she waved the two of you more deeply inside. Jessica, at least pretending to get coffee? Damn, she really did want the two of you to talk. You gave David a polite smile as you lowered yourself to sit.

“I’m sorry she dragged you in here.”

“Wasn’t much of a drag. My office is a block away.”

“Well, then I’m glad you haven’t come far for nothing.”

“Nothing?” His brows jumped as he sat beside you. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not currently looking for a divorce lawyer.”

“You need one.”

“That is beyond the point, Mr—”

“David.”

“...Mister David,” You bit out pointedly, and fought back a wave of annoyance at his amused smile. “I’m not sure how much Jessica has told you, but there are a lot of things up in the air right now. I’ve socked away some money for my defense, but not enough.”

“How would you know what’s enough?”

“...Let’s pretend that I don’t know anything about the law, or the legal quagmire that I’ve gotten myself into. Let’s pretend that all I know about my soon to be ex-husband’s business is that he has a lot more money than I do. The two of us went into our marriage with about 600 bucks and a dream held together with tape and spit. I have watched, and I have helped my husband build up his business for the last eleven years. I have signed contracts, I have signed purchase orders, I have signed mortgages, I have signed deeds. Even if I wasn’t paying attention to what I was signing, I would know that Steven has amassed a lot of cash, a massive legal team, as well as a significant number of holdings—in both our names. He has a lot of power in this equation, and I do not. Whatever comes down the pike, it is going to be a protracted legal battle. If I was optimistic, I would figure that this would take about a year, but I’m not, and I know that it could take a few.”

David’s dark eyes darted fascinatedly across your face before he offered: “But you do know a lot about Mr. Hayward’s business.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Because it was your business, too.”

You averted your gaze from him as that washed over you. His acknowledgement made your heart knock hollowly against your ribs, and it took all of your strength not to slouch dejectedly in your chair.

“...Yes,” You agreed. “It was.” “I understand that you’re discouraged. I would be, too, a lot of women are in your position.”

“Exactly what position is that, Mister David.”

His smile flattened with nerves, and he let out a huffed, joyless laugh.

“I mean, having been served—”

“A piping-hot plate of out on my ass?”

“If that’s what you’d like to call it—”

“I call it that because that’s what it is, not because I like it that way.”

“I understand. Look,” David shifted in his seat, twisting to face you a little more. “I think that regardless of when you get your pieces in place, you have a real case here. I think I can get you half.”

If you had a touch less decorum, you would have jumped out of your seat and screamed—both from the excitement, and the certainty that David Alford was out of his mind. Instead, you blinked twice, and once you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, asked:

“Half?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“There is no way.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t think I would, because I’m almost certain that’s impossible.”

“Well, it certainly would be before.”

“What exactly has changed?”

“You didn’t know me. You do now.”

You smiled in spite of yourself at the brash, almost fearless way that he said it. As skeptical as you were, you knew that this was exactly what you needed: someone as bold, confident, and fearless as—

“What a cozy little conference this is.”

You turned back at the sound of Harvey’s voice, smiling a little. “Looking to join the fun?”

“If I can hazard a guess at Jessica’s matchmaking, Alford is the one joining the fun.”

“Specter,” David greeted, pushing himself out of his seat. “Haven’t seen you at the squash courts recently.”

“I’ve been trolling the back nine,” Harvey offered, shaking David’s hand. “Nice to see you, Pleas and thank you.”

Your brow furrowed at the term. “What?”

“It’s what some of the guys at the club call me. You know, my name—”

“Alford pleas and thank you.” You scrubbed your hand across your brow. “God, that’s dumb.”

“We can’t all be queens of quip.”

“You poor things,” You shot back scathingly. Harvey shot you a wink before turning back to David.

“So, David, whaddaya say?” Harvey plied. “You filling the gap?”

“Yeah, I’d love to fill ‘er in.”

You didn’t miss his innuendo, nor the speculative, open, sweeping gaze that David leveled at you. Your brows inched toward your hairline, stunned at his brazenness. Surely you hadn’t seen it right—

“Coffee?”

Your focus was broken at the sound of Jessica’s voice, and the sight of a coffee tray being wheeled in behind her. You let yourself be busied by it. You focused on your coffee, made it the way you liked, and let Jessica and David and Harvey talk about what you could reasonably expect out of the divorce battle.

Reasonably, as if this entire situation hadn’t been insanely unreasonable.

But you let yourself sit, and listen, and save your speculation for the train ride home.

You must’ve read his look wrong, or misunderstood. He didn’t mean it like that.

And even if he did, finding that look intriguing was incredibly appropriate. But it didn’t matter! Because he didn’t mean it like that.

…And even if he did, it was probably just something that he tried to bring you on board. But it didn’t matter, because he did not mean it like that.

…

Though if he did, it really wouldn’t matter, because it would be grounds for him to be disbarred. Nothing was going to happen…Even if you did find him attractive, and found his blunt approach and self-assured nature very, very hot.

But you were not going to fuck him.

“Don’t fuck him.”

You had expected the warning to come from Jessica, but to hear it from Harvey of all goddamn people made you gape at him in shock. He just gave you a knowing look before he turned back toward the beer that he was opening.

Your urge to have a drink that evening hadn’t been strong, but it had been there, and it had made you think of Harvey’s offer from the day before. You hadn’t expected such a quick response to your simple text of ‘Beer?’, but he had turned up a mere half hour later, a fresh six pack in hand. He had shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on to your bed, and walked over to your kitchenette—where he proceeded to say the most heinous thing.

“Excuse me?” You finally managed.

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did, actually, not properly, because it sounded like you just gave me an order that you had no business giving.”

“I have plenty of business.”

“No—”

“Don’t—”

“No no no, you do not, not here, and not like that.”

“I’m just saying,” Harvey turned from the counter, planting his hand on the cruddy formica, “That I know—”

“Do not say that you know me.”

His expression darkened, and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “I know him.”

“...He has to be good, or Jessica wouldn’t have pulled him on to my case.”

“He’s a good lawyer, but he’s a scuzzy asshole.”

“I know the type.”

“You think I’m a scuzzy asshole?”

Your gut dropped at the hint of anger seeping into his tone.

“I meant Steven.”

Harvey turned away, hand curling into a fist and knocking lightly on the counter.

“Just…Be careful with him.”

“You are the last person that has any right to lecture me on the care that I ought to take with the men in my life.”

“I’m not lecturing you—”

“No, you’re warning me off, like a little kid that’s playing too close to an electric fence.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine by me, as long as you don’t fuck David.” “Alright, you know what,” You pushed off of your bed, striding over to your door. “Get out.”

“We’re not done talking about this.”

“Yes, we are. Get out.”

“We’re not done until—”

“We’re done when I say we’re done!” You began to yank your door open. Harvey was across your small space in a moment, palm flat against the door as he shoved it shut behind you.

“And what the hell gives you the right to decide that?”

“Because it’s my turn!” You barked. “I get to decide when we’re done now.”

“It stopped being your turn when you stormed out of my office.”

“Then make the damn decision yourself and get the fuck out of my apartment!”

“If you want to ruin that man’s career and your chances of getting anything that you want out of your divorce, you go right ahead.”

“I am not going to fuck him, and I’m not going to get him disbarred, you ass.”

“Good.”

“And I deeply resent the implication that I’m so sex-starved and desperate that I’m willing to fuck anyone who gives me any goddamn attention.”

“I did not—”

“Yes, you did, you did the second you opened your mouth. By rights, if that’s your view of me, I should’ve tried to not only fuck Mike, but you, of all people.”

“I never implied that you were sex starved, but if you were, you could do a lot worse than Mike—”

“Oh, really—”

“And a helluva lot worse than me.”

“Oh, please! There is no way that I could do worse than you. There are dictators that I’d sooner fall into bed with.”

“If all you’re cutting out is the bed, I can work with the rest.”

You could’ve slapped him. He was close enough, and you could just imagine it—the way the flush of red would look spreading across his cheek.

“What makes you think I’d ever allow you anywhere near me again, Specter?”

“I’m pretty damn close now.” He shifted closer, stopping as the tips of his shoes brushed your socked feet.

“Against your better judgment.”

“You want to put me in my place, sweetheart, you go right ahead.”

“Don't call me that.”

“Why not.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Give me a good reason not to.”

“You haven’t earned it back.”

“Any idea of how I might do that?”

You bit him. You grasped his tie, tugged him in, and sank your teeth into his lower lip. You expected an argument, but Harvey just groaned, grasping you by the hips and shoving you back against the door. You released his lip, groaning as he swept his tongue into your mouth. Your hand unwound from his tie, breath leaving you in harsh puffs as Harvey’s smearing kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. You arched up into his touch as his hands slipped under your t-shirt, palming and squeezing whatever skin he could reach. You reached down, hands fumbling with nerves and heat as you worked off his belt.

Every time your mind began to race, Harvey managed to quiet it, with his teasing tongue, and nipping teeth, and grasping fingers. For all of his big talk about getting David disbarred, Harvey suddenly seemed to not give a damn about his own career—

You whined as Harvey yanked down the cup of your bra, knuckles toying with your pebbling nipple. You palmed his hardening cock through the soft fabric of his trousers, thrilling in his moan, and the press of his hips up against your touch. His fingers snaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, sweeping against your clit before swiping slower.

“You’re already so goddamn wet,” He growled, easing a finger into you. You pressed into his touch, gritting your teeth as he goaded: “You like pissing me off this much?”

“Condom?”

“Left pocket.”

You reached into his pocket, brushing against his cock as you drew out the foil packet. Why wasn’t it tucked somewhere discreet, like his wallet? You pushed the thought away as you ripped the foil packet open with your teeth. Harvey let go of you just long enough to shove his pants down around his thighs, then push your sweatpants.

“Turn around.”

You passed him the condom before doing as you were told, leaning heavily against the door. You expected a stretch, but slick heat pressed between your spread thighs. Your mouth dropped open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut as Harvey lapped and laved your slick, heated skin. You reached back, fingers scrabbling to grasp the neat coif of his hair.

“Harvey, damnit,” You gasped. “Just fuck me already.”

He groaned in dissent, giving your lips one more sucking kiss before straightening fully. You felt one palm smooth over to your thigh, and saw the other rest against the door as he eased into you. Your lips parted with a gentle whine at the pleasurable throb of his cock stretching you. You planted your hand on the door beside his, steadying yourself as you adjusted.

He didn’t give you long. Harvey drew back before his hips snapped sharply. You pressed your cheek to the door, skin growing clammy between the flimsy particleboard and the hot panting of your breath. The harsh slam of his hips forced your body uncomfortably against the door. You let your eyes slide closed as Harvey’s hands covered yours, drawing them just above your head as he intertwined your fingers. The door rattled in the frame with each thrust. You whimpered as Harvey pressed his face into your neck, felt his hot breath and the rumble of his groans against your skin.

Your thighs ached, and your heart pounded, and your cunt throbbed, and goddamn it felt so fucking good.

The swell of your orgasm rose and crested sharply, and you didn’t bother to hide the shuddering of your moan, your grip tightening on Harvey's hands. He followed close behind, hips pounding and juddering before he slowed. The two of you stood still for a few long moments, listening to one another’s panting and coming down. Harvey carefully extricated your hands from yours, drawing away and leaving you half-bare and chilly against the door.

“...I need a beer,” Harvey muttered, voice hoarse.

“You left one on the counter.”

“You want one?”

“Yeah.”

You reach down, tugging up your sweatpants as you gently peel yourself back from the door.

“It’s probably going to be lukewarm,” Harvey warned.

“I don’t care.” You drew in a shaky breath as you walked back toward your bed. You’d already sworn that you wouldn’t let him into it. You lowered yourself to sit beside it, looking at the door as the swirl of confused thoughts shifted back to the fore. You watched Harvey tie off the condom and drop it into your trash bin. You tracked his movement—from cleaning up, to doing up his pants, to washing his hands. You didn’t bother to hide your open speculation as he opened another beer, then took the two up. You drew your legs together, biting your lip as your slick cunt pulsed.

Harvey lowered himself to sit beside you, holding a beer out and lightly knocking his against yours before you each took a drink. You winced a little at the taste. You should’ve listened to him—the taste of lukewarm beer was not appetizing. You saw Harvey reach up out of the corner of your eye as he loosened his tie.

“...What was that about getting someone disbarred?”

“Shuddup.” There was no heat to how he said it, and that was probably why it made you snort a laugh.

“Harvey?”

“What.”

“Did you come over planning to fuck me?”

“What?”

“Why was there a condom in your pocket?”

“I had a date.”

Your brow furrowed as you took that in.

“...When?”

“Tonight.”

“Why aren’t you there?”

“Because I’m here.”

Harvey Specter broke a date. Harvey Specter broke a date for you. You leaned back against the bed again, biting the inside of your cheek to quell a wide grin.

“Don’t read into it,” He added.

“I’m not reading into anything…Apart from the fact that you seemed pretty sure you were going to get laid.”

“I was.”

“Arrange for that, did you?”

“No need to arrange anything. I’m just good like that.”

“Well. Can’t argue with that. For the record—”

“What.”

“You really have no say over who I do and don’t fuck.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“...You going to the Hamptons next weekend?”

“Yeah.” “How are you getting up there?”

“I was going to take the train.”

“I could give you a ride.”

“You already have.” You cast Harvey a knowing smile, grin widening as he shot you a sidelong, unimpressed glance. Your smile turned to giggles as Harvey seemed to smile in spite of himself.

“You really think we could stand to be in the car with one another for more than twenty minutes?” You prodded.

“If not, we could always pull over and work out our differences.”

“Pfft. No other weekend plans?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t promise a rain check?”

“Didn’t specify when it might happen.”

“Mm. And why would you want to come with me?”

“Steven could be watching those properties, waiting for you to turn up. You could benefit from having back up.”

“You make it sound terribly sinister. Have you figured out how to bill Gstaad yet?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Keep me updated.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t mean for, you know—I don’t want a vacation.”

“You’ve earned one.”

“Whatever, I just don’t like to put something on the market without doing a walk-through myself.”

“I understand.”

You leaned back against the bed a little more heavily, gaze wandering toward the door, where a little bit of your makeup was smeared from the press of your cheek.

“...Harvey?”

“Mm?”

“Can we talk about it?”

“The sex or the other thing?”

“The other thing.”

“I’ve already had one fight with you today. I don’t think I have the capacity for two...Do you?”

You shook your head.

“Some other time,” He promised.

“Sure.”

You had seen the paperwork and the inspector’s notes, but to see the house in the Hamptons was a whole other story. The long gravel driveway was lined with a horse fence on the left, and a plain wood fence on the right. You didn’t bother to hide your open, stunned stares as you passed the stables. It was hardly the first time you’d seen a home like it, but it was unfathomable that Steven seemed to have not only put the house in your name, but completely forgotten about it.

Harvey pulled the car into the neatly manicured lot.

“Do you want to start in the stables, the house, the pool, the tennis court…?” He shut the car off, waiting for your reply. You shook your head.

“I only care about the house,” You admitted.

“So we won’t be walking the expansive lawns? I brought my sneakers.”

“Do I even want to know how expensive those sneakers are?”

“They’re worth more than your apartment.”

“I’m willing to believe that.” You climbed out of the car, eyeing the inspector’s report as you rounded toward the front steps. You turned from the paperwork to take in the house’s appearance more clearly. It was…Ugly. The large, L-shaped, gray-brick building had the modernistic development of the fast-casual apartment buildings in the city, with some of the gauche touches of your penthouse, like the expansive floor-to-ceiling covering nearly the entirety of the bottom of the floor. You could see a balcony on the left side of the house, and another around the other end of the L.

“...This is different.”

“It’s criminal,” You muttered.

“Are you saying that because he forged your signature, or because it’s ugly as sin?”

“Both. Come on.”

You walked up to the front door, punching in the code that the realtor had given you to get the door open.

The foyer was as flat and uninspired as the outside of the house—white marble floors, grey walls, and sterling silver furnishings. You grimaced as you looked around.

“Are we doing a complete walk through of this millennial grey gulag?”

“If you’re going to hate it, you can wait in the car,” You offered, glancing toward Harvey. “Apparently there are fifteen bedrooms and nine bathrooms, and I don’t know how much of your cute commentary I can deal with today.”

“Seemed to handle it fine in the car.” Harvey turned left before you could say or do anything else, and you followed him, looking down at the property’s map.

“This place oughta have one of those fricking mall maps with a star labeled ‘You Are Here’,” You grumbled.

“Now who’s making cute comments.”

–

“My feet hurt,” You groaned, plopping onto a boxy, stiff-cushioned couch.

“You’d think after the last couple of months of living in that walk-up, you’d be in better shape.”

“You’d think.”

“It’s all those cheese fries.”

“Oh—shut up.”

“So, what do you think?”

“I think we throw it on the market for 18 million and I forget that it ever existed.”

“Why list it in your name, though?”

You shrugged, looking around. “Maybe it was in both our names when he bought it and the outcome was such a disaster he decided to leave my name on it. I think he designed it.”

“Really?” Harvey’s brows rose as he looked around.

“Oh, god yeah. Steven can be smart, but he’s never really had any design sense. I wound up taking charge on some of our early flip projects because he just didn’t have the eye for it. He always tried, but I kinda wound up following behind and fixing his messes. If I had to guess, he bought this place to show me that he really could do it, and he just…Can’t.”

“Do you think Cape Cod and Gstaad will be the same?”

“Doubtful. The report for Cape Cod said that the house was originally built in 1950…what. Four?”

“Something like that.”

“It looks like he gutted it like he did the apartment buildings and realized how much of a project it would be. Gave up on it.”

“And Gstaad?”

“Work out how to expense the trip and we can talk.”

Harvey chuckled, wandering closer. “Should we christen it?”

“Christen what?”

“This house.”

“How?”

Harvey’s brows waggled salaciously, and you laughed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “Oh no, Specter. No way—”

“Why not?”

“You wanna christen every room? You don’t have the stamina for that—And I don’t have the patience.”

“What about just in here?” He curled his arm around your waist, drawing you closer. “On that stupid couch, over the piano…How about up against the windows?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “There’s no one around for miles.”

You rolled your eyes despite your amusement.

“If you said that with the Kubrick stare, I’d think you were going all Jack Torrence on me.”

“Heeeeeeeere’s Harvey.”

“Ugh! God, let’s just go,” You pushed out of Harvey’s arms, heading for the door. “It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.”

“The house can’t be haunted, he’s not dead.”

“He is to me.”

–

“When are you planning on going to Cape Cod?”

“Mm…Probably next week.”

“Driving up?”

“Taking the train.”

“Again with the train.”

“I don’t have a car and I’m not going to rent one.”

“Are you staying overnight?”

“No.”

“You’re going to go up and back on the train in one day? That is a long day.”

“I can handle it.”

“You’d be more comfortable in a car.”

“Yeah, obviously—Eyes on the road, Specter.” You reached out, poking his cheek as he glanced over at you. He batted your hand away lazily before turning back to the road.

“Why do you always insist on doing things in the most difficult way possible?”

“Because in most cases, the most difficult choice is also the most cost-effective. Efficiencies can be cruel, Harvey.”

“Cruel is an understatement.”

“I can handle a day on the train.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, thank you.”

“Stubborn.”

“...Do you wanna come up when we get back to my place?”

“What for?”

You tipped your head to the side, waiting for Harvey to glance over before you teasingly waggled your brows.

“Oh, so now you want to?”

“I wanted to then! But I couldn’t do it if I felt Steven looming over me. C’mon, Specter,” You reached out, gently teasing your nails along the back of his neck, and grinning as he shifted slightly in his seat. “See if you can get me any more out of breath than walking up six flights of stairs.”

“Hey, there you are! Jessica needs to—What’s that face for?” Mike’s concern fell away at the sight of Harvey’s self-satisfied smile as he stepped off of the elevator. Harvey gave a dismissive shrug. What the hell was he going to tell Mike? That he’d spent the weekend somewhere other than his place? That he had fallen asleep with her, and remembered how serene it used to be to wake up with her? That they’d hardly left her cruddy apartment—hell, they’d hardly left her bed?

“Nothing. What were you saying?”

“Jessica needs to see you.”

“Right now?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Jessica step out from around the corner, drawing him up short.

“Yes,” She insisted firmly. “Right now.”

Harvey had the strange sense of a child being marched to the principal as she led her way to her office. She shut the door behind the two of them, striding past him to her desk.

“Can this wait?” Harvey hedged. “I’ve got coffee going cold on my desk.”

“Well then, I’ll make this quick. Did you have a nice time this weekend?"

That should've been his warning. It was a solid leading question, and one that, on any other Monday, he would not have hesitated to answer. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he decided—Yes, she must have known that he drove to the Hamptons. Someone would have told Jessica: Mike was still in the habit of offering updates when he thought they would be helpful.

"Yes," He finally answered.

"Was it a productive trip?"

A second warning. Jessica was a strategist, and Harvey knew that any lawyer worth a damn didn't ask a question that they didn't already know the answer to. Still, he chose a carefully middle-of-the-road answer:

"She was happy to go through the home herself, set a listing price. Hopefully we can get it on the market and on its way as soon as possible.”

Jessica took that in thoughtfully, lips set in a placid smile.

"Were there any outstanding features?"

A third and final warning, but Harvey couldn't help but lean into it:

"Are we talking about the tennis court, the pool, the stables, or the thousand lawns?"

Jessica let out a tepid, flatly amused, "Hm," Before beckoning him closer. "Well if those all caught your eye, it would explain why you missed the cameras."

Harvey froze in his step, blood running cold. There was no way—Cameras? His gaze dropped to the laptop that she turned to face him. The black and white footage was grainy, but clear enough. Harvey watched as he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He could still feel the heat of her body, and the plush slide of her sweater beneath his fingers. He could see the gentle, adoring way that she gazed up at him before she nudged him away, leading the charge out of the house.

‘It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.’ He didn’t know how, but she had felt it.

"Where did that come from."

"I'll give you three guesses."

"Let me explain—"

"Explain what!" Jessica slammed the laptop closed, rounding the desk with self-righteous strides. "Explain what idiotic idea led to you putting on a show?"

"We didn't know that there were cameras."

"How long has this been going on?"

"We only went to see that one house."

Jessica's expression darkened as she shook her head.

"Don't play dumb with me, Harvey," She warned lowly. "How long have you been sleeping with her."

It hit him low in the gut. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.

"She told you?"

"No, she didn't tell me. She didn't have to. It'll be plain as day to anyone who sees that footage."

"That’s not true, we were just—"

"Just what?"

"I was teasing her! It didn't mean anything."

"If I call and ask her, she'll say the same thing?"

He was certain of it. "Yes."

"Would she swear to it under oath? At a deposition? In court?"

His surety faltered, and his mouth worked wordlessly before he pursed his lips tightly. Jessica shook her head again.

"I am not the only one with access to this. Luckily for you—for both of you—she still has a friend or two on the inside. Aaron Delaney sent this to me before he deleted the original. He works closely with Steven, and has access to a few property accounts. He got an alert on his phone that someone had used the keypad to open the door."

"Has Steven seen it?"

"He isn't sure, but I'm not willing to take that chance. Louis will be taking over the Hayward case, and Mike will be assisting him."

"No, Jessica, that's not happening."

"It is, because I'm telling you that it is. You should be relieved. You never wanted it in the first place."

"Things are different now."

"You're damn right they are! What the hell were you thinking? Both of you?"

"Let me see this case through."

"If you see this through and Hayward does have access to this footage, you could be disbarred. You're going to hand the files over to Louis by the end of the day. He is expecting them. Mike will bring him up to speed and assist him until this mess is cleared up."

Harvey lowered his gaze to the floor as Jessica stepped around him, opening the door and waiting beside it. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets as he strode resignedly from the office.

"And so help you," Jessica warned as he passed, "If I hear that you are holding Louis up in any way."

Harvey only made it a few feet from the office before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurriedly dialing her number. It rang once...Twice...Three times...And went to voicemail.

"Damnit," He hissed, lowering the phone to redial. "C'mon, c'mon..." It rang once, "Pick up." Twice...

"Hey you."

"Where are you?"

"What do you mean?" She laughed, "I'm on my way to see Jessica for our check-in."

Fuck.

"How close are you?"

"I just got off of the elevator. Why?"

Harvey whirled around, eyes desperately searching for her through the gaggle of associates, paralegals, and lawyers going about their business.

"She knows."

"What?"

He could hear her frown. Harvey took three steps toward the elevator bay before he saw her come into view—and lock eyes with Jessica. He saw her body go tense, before her shoulders sagged with dejection.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hell," She sighed before hanging up.

"I'm not going to even begin to approach what you may have been thinking—"

"Jessica—"

"—Putting not only your future, Harvey’s future, and the future of this firm in jeopardy."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly."

"We didn't even do anything at the house!"

"That doesn't make the slightest bit of difference."

You slid down in your seat as Jessica paced in front of you, her pace and turn reminiscent of a caged tiger.

"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?" She finally stilled, nailing you with a cold gaze. You folded further under the crush of her look, so similar to the disbelief that she had leveled you with at her apartment not too long ago.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Jessica strode around her desk. "Your case has been reassigned to Louis Litt. Mike will stay on, provided you haven't fucked him, too."

Christ. "I made a mistake, alright? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it," You insisted. "Don't bring Mike into this when he hasn't done anything wrong."

Jessica bristled as she lowered herself into her seat.

"I don't want you associating with Harvey until this is over."

"Oh—Come on."

"If this footage were to come out, Harvey's conduct and ethics will be called into question. He'll be dragged into your divorce proceedings. Is that what you want?"

Your stomach churned uneasily as you considered it. You knew she was right. You shook your head a little, trying desperately to swallow past the lump that was forming in your dry throat.

"Louis and Mike will be in touch."

"Okay." You turned, heading for her office door, and stopping just before you opened it.

"...Is now a bad time to remind you that bringing Harvey onto my case was your idea?"

The chilling glare that she leveled with answered for her: Yes. It was a very bad time to remind her.

“You slept with—”

“Shut the door and keep your voice down,” Harvey warned stonily. Before either of them could move toward his office door, Donna hurried into view, reaching for the handle.

“You don’t wanna hear this?” Mike’s brows rose. “You of all people?”

Donna waved him away, offering, “Intercom,” Before she shut the door. Harvey sighed heavily, lowering himself into his chair.

“What happened?” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “I’m just—You two hate each other.”

“Thank you for the reminder. I forgot about that.”

“Harvey, c’mon,” Mike shook his head as he tried (and failed) to keep from smiling. “What happened?”

“I went over to hang out.”

“At her apartment?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, and? Instead of hanging out you…Let it all hang out?”

“Get out of my office.”

“If that was at her apartment, what happened in the Hamptons?”

“Nothing happened in the Hamptons. The footage just…We got close, that’s all.”

“That’s not enough to disbar you.”

“Because you’re the expert on being disbarred? It’s enough to call my ethics into question…And Jessica’s right, no one needs that headache right now.”

“So I’m stuck with Louis because you got close? Where’s the Specter spirit? No way are you going to watch this one from the sidelines.”

On any other case, no, he wouldn’t. Harvey would insist on backseat driving. But on this one…He grimaced, dropping his gaze to his desk.

“I want regular updates,” He insisted. “That’s all.”

Mike nodded slowly, conceding: “Okay. But I’ll be ready when you change your mind.”

"I'll come over."

He sounded so positive about it—like nothing had happened, or changed. You eyed the remaining trash bags, trying to scrounge up the conviction of an excuse.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why not?"

You know why. You shifted your phone from one hand to the other, tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you reached out, gripping a bag to make it crinkle loudly.

"I've still got some sorting to do."

"I'll help you."

"Not tonight, Harvey."

"...She's not in charge of us, you know."

You tipped your head back against your wall, closing your eyes. "She's actually very much in charge of you."

"At work."

"I know, but I just..." You winced. "I think she's right. We should lay low for a while. If Steven did see that video before Aaron sent it to Jessica, we're both going to have a whole new mess that we're stepping into."

"I'm ready for it."

"...I don't know if I am."

His silence on the other end made you want to crawl out of your skin. "I can only fight one battle at a time, Harvey—And right now, I'm barely managing the big ones."

"Fine."

You knew that fine coming from him. It wasn't fine. It was I'm shutting down. It was I'm finished with this conversation. It was I'm finished with you.

"Harvey—"

You lowered the phone from your ear as the line cut off, watching the inevitable flashing and darkening of his contact. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. How, after all this time, was Harvey Specter still able to make you cry?

You became solitary again. Life narrowed. You saw Aaron a time or two, but he was so busy either working or gathering intel that you were hardly able to keep up with him. For as much of a lifeline as she had been, Jessica was still pissed, and you hardly spoke more than you needed to. Mike was a dear, checking in to see how you were doing, but most correspondence led inevitably to discussing closings, proceedings, contracts (and you couldn’t blame him for it; he was only doing his job).

Louis was…A lot. He was very eager, that was clear, and had been working hard to push the sales of the apartment buildings and the home in the Hamptons through. David and his firm were digging into discovery, and were making headway.

But you had so little life outside of your divorce. Most of your pieces were sold off, so you hardly had any day-to-day tasks to keep you busy—and everything in New York was so goddamn expensive. It felt like you spent $50 just stepping out your front door. There were days when you simply didn’t. It was cheaper to stay in, and quieter (so long as your neighbors didn’t have a screaming match that day).

Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought.

Walking back into the firm was uncomfortable. You’d avoided it for as long as you could, but Mike insisted that there were a few documents that absolutely had to be seen and signed in the office. You’d made it an entire three weeks without so much as getting anywhere near the building. You found yourself avoiding even glancing in the direction of Jessica’s office. It was alright, though—Donna was a smiling, comforting presence the second you stepped off of the elevator.

“Find the place alright?” She teased.

“I did, thank you. I’ve only been here a dozen times in the last couple of months.”

“It’s been a few weeks. We thought you’d forgotten where we were.”

You smiled tightly. You were certain that she knew everything that had gone on—she was the eyes and ears of the place.

“You know, it’s the funniest thing,” You drawled sarcastically, “I kept coming to the right building and getting off on the wrong floor.”

“Happens to the best of us. C’mon.”

You frowned as she led you away from the usual conference rooms, and even further away from Louis’ office. You couldn’t imagine where the heck she was taking you—and your confusion deepened as she opened the door to a room lined with files. She nodded you inside, a knowing smile on her lips as she warned:

“Two minutes.”

Two minutes? Until what?

“Thanks, Donna.” Harvey’s voice made you freeze, and you could do nothing but watch Donna close the door behind herself. You looked down at the floor, your hands wringing as you heard Harvey come closer. You felt him stop close behind you, close enough to feel the heat of him.

“...Are you going to look at me?” He hedged softly.

“No need. I know what you look like.”

He sighed softly, stepping around to stand in front of you. You watched as his shoes and pant legs came into view.

“...And you’re just going to look at my shoes now?”

“They’re nice shoes. Look expensive.”

“They are.”

“Figures.”

“I’m sorry.”

You looked at him fully, finally, stunned. You were surprised at how drawn he looked. Sure, his suit was impeccable, and his hair was frustratingly perfect, but you could see tiredness around his eyes.

“You’re going through hell right now,” Harvey went on, “You don’t need me to pile on to that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. “Well. We should never have, um…” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze again. “It was stupid.”

“You regret it?”

“It’s not worth risking your career over.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Harvey closed the space between the two of you, and you had to force yourself not to lean into him the way you wanted—the way you’d missed for weeks.

“Harvey,” You warned softly. “I can’t keep playing tug of war with you like this. I’m already at the end of my damn rope.”

“I know.”

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his palms sliding warmly over your arms, trailing down until he could gently intertwine your fingers.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” He promised, “Until we’re on the other side of this, and your business with the firm is closed out.”

“And then what?”

“And then I’ll give you hell.” You spluttered a laugh, unable to help it. Harvey chuckled softly, his nose nudging yours gently.

“I should go,” You warned softly. “Louis will come looking for me.”

“Donna will keep him at bay.”

“She said two minutes. It’s been at least three—” You hardly had time to finish your protestation before Harvey kissed you. You swayed into him, lips slipping tenderly against his as he used his grasp to draw you flush against him. You wiggled your hands from his, curling your arms around his shoulders to keep close. You startled at the two knocks on the door, and smiled as Harvey groaned in irritation.

“I should let you go,” He mumbled. You nodded, murmured,

“Probably.”

But neither of you rushed to move.

“I'm sorry to see you go. I've enjoyed our time together."

You sort of believed it, given the pinched, almost pained look that Louis leveled you across the desk. And, for all of your work with him over the last three months, you'd gained a sort of affinity for the man...Even if he was a little intense in a way that sometimes confused you. You smiled, taking up the final few documents that you would need for your record.

"I appreciate that, and thank you for all of your hard work, Mr. Litt. It's been..." You weighed your words carefully, "Interesting."

"For me, too. Reach out if you need anything else—doc review, mover recommendations, tickets to the ballet. Anything."

"Tickets to the ballet? I'm impressed." You held your hand out, smiling as he stood and pumped it enthusiastically. "Thank you again."

You were hardly four steps out of Louis' office when you found yourself flanked in the hallway.

"We should celebrate," Harvey insisted.

"And how would we do that?"

"Dinner at La Belle Vache."

Your brows rose as you glanced toward Mike.

"’The beautiful cow’?"

"Harvey's idea."

"With a restaurant name like that, it would have to be."

"Hey, that is not fair! I could be posh."

"It wouldn't suit you, Mr. Ross."

"Is that a yes or a no to dinner?" Harvey plied.

"When?"

"You busy tonight?"

"If I told you I had plans, would you believe me?"

"Not for a second."

"Well, I do."

"Cancel 'em."

"It's with my divorce lawyer."

"And here feels like a good stopping point for me." Mike wheeled around, striding back in the direction that he came.

"What the hell does David want with you after hours?"

"Deposition starts next week. We're drilling testimony."

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

"Watch it, Specter." You reached out, jabbing the down button on the elevator before turning back to Harvey. He pouted contemplatively before offering: "What about this weekend?"

"I think I could swing this weekend. Is dinner on the firm?"

"It's on me."

"Do you think..." You trailed off, glancing toward Jessica's office, "That the powers that be will approve?"

"Honestly?" Harvey lowered his voice,"I don't give a damn. It's been months. Your business here is wrapped. If Jessica wants to give me a good reason why I can't see you, she's welcome to try—but it won't work."

You bit the inside of your cheek to quell a smile as you reached out, gently straightening Harvey's tie.

"Very forceful, Mr. Specter."

"You like it?"

"It's kinda hot." You turned back and stepped onto the elevator as it chimed.

"This weekend," You finally agreed. "Invite Mike—He's earned several dinners."

"He sure has."

The doors began to close, but Harvey darted in, catching them before they could shut all the way. He darted in, pressing a swift, warm kiss to your lips before he drew away again. You grinned as he stepped back, allowing the doors to close.

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

The memory of Harvey's teasing warning was on your mind throughout your time with David, and you found yourself fighting back smiles all evening.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

David watched you from beneath his lashes as he asked, and where that look had intrigued you once, you knew better. You gave a short, firm nod, and insisted: "I have a date."

Your battle with Steven was far from over. You still had forgery cases pending, and your divorce case had hardly begun. But things felt a little lighter these days.

You had a direction, you had cash flow...But you didn't quite have the plan that you once did. You had told Harvey months ago that you were considering moving to Cambridge. It hadn’t completely ceased to be true, but it wasn’t your only consideration anymore.

There were moments when you could see the glimmer of a life to carve out for yourself: a smaller real estate firm with a few employees—maybe Aaron, if you could lure him away from Steven; a more comfortable apartment than where you were now, but you could live with where you were for a few more months as you got things in order; and, at the very least, a friendship with Harvey. You didn’t know if what the two of you were doing would be sustainable, and you weren’t sure whether either of you really wanted to know—but after all this time, you thought that maybe the two of you deserved another chance.

“Impressed?”

It was a fair question, but you were doing your best to school your expression. You didn’t want Harvey to know outright how much you did like his apartment. It was nothing less than you expected—large (though not quite in the palatial way that your old penthouse was), tastefully decorated, with a gorgeous view. You knew why Harvey had brought you up, of course, but now he was just showing off.

Dinner had been its own round of grandstanding. You and Mike had watched, bemused, as Harvey had gone out of his way to pronounce all of the dishes in a French accent to the clearly not French (but feigning awe) waiter (who you were sure had to deal with this multiple times a day). Harvey had also taught you and Mike a thing or two about wine—or he had tried to, until Mike seemed no longer able to help himself and corrected Harvey on multiple facts about the Rhône valley in the south of France.

It had been a far more pleasant evening that you had expected to have, and far more jovial than you’d had in a long time. Mike and Harvey were close; you and Harvey had a history; you and Mike had become friends over the course of your time working with him. When Mike had insisted that you all had to do this again sometime, you believed that he meant it. And when Harvey had invited you both up for a nightcap, Mike had politely declined with a smile and a shake of his head, offering:

“I think I should let you two have some time to do…Whatever it is that you need to do.”

You hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d meant, or what Harvey had told him. You were almost certain that he would’ve been told why Harvey had been taken off of your case in the first place. And sure, now and again, over dinner, you and Harvey had caught one another’s eye, maybe shared a smile. Maybe he’d rested his hand on your knee a time or two, given it a squeeze—because he could. Because the two of you were close and on even footing for the first time in a while.

“It’s…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Certainly an apartment.”

“Oh, please,” Harvey scoffed, taking two wine glasses down from the cabinet. “You’re impressed.”

“It’s nicer than I thought it would be.”

“You’re dazzled.”

“I like the kitchen.”

“You’re helplessly turned on.”

“‘Helplessly’ is pushing it.”

“So you admit that you’re turned on?”

You rolled your eyes, no longer bothering to fight your smile off.

“Maybe,” You offered, settling onto the couch and kicking off your shoes. Harvey joined you moments later, passing you a glass of wine and gently clinking his against yours before you each took sips. His gaze remained heavy on yours, and he leaned in for a gentle kiss as soon as you lowered your glass. You hummed, raising a hand and cupping his jaw. You leaned back just a touch, smiling as he crowded closer, dipping his head to brush kisses along your neck as his warm palm gently smoothed up your thigh.

“...Harvey?”

“Sure, I can show you the bedroom.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head a little. “Can we talk about it?”

He groaned, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. “Why do you always insist on ruining a perfectly good time?”

“Like when?”

“Like when we were in the Hamptons.”

“You thank your lucky fucking stars that I put a stop to that.”

“Yeah,” He grumbled, leaning back. You watched him swirl his wine in his glass.

“Please,” You pleaded softly.

“...I didn’t write the note.”

Fuck.

“Okay.”

“I wrote a note, but…Not that one.”

“Who wrote that one?”

“Scottie.”

“...Okay.”

“I couldn’t find the one I’d written, she insisted that I couldn’t leave you with nothing.”

“Well, she was right.”

“Yeah.”

You that that sink in for a moment before you pressed: “Why did you leave?”

“I had doubts.”

“About me?”

“About us. You know how my parents were, you know…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You know what I saw.”

“And you thought I would do that to you?”

“I was afraid of it.”

“If you were afraid of it, then you thought I was capable of it.”

“—And when you got married to Steven so quickly—”

“Oh—!” The heavy, stunned, indignant laugh was pained as it left you. You pushed off of the couch, standing and walking out of Harvey’s reach. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, chased by the clink of him setting his wine glass down as he muttered, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Do you know why I got married so quickly?” You whirled around to face him.

“Because you loved Steven?”

“I never said that. I thought I loved him a bit, sure, but I was afraid that this,” You waved a finger between the two of you, “Would happen again. I thought he would leave. I was afraid that I would spend my entire life being left. So when Steven showed me the slightest bit of attention, I latched on. We eloped. He wanted a big wedding, but I just,” You waved your hand around, “I couldn’t do that a second time. Any of it. I didn’t get a new dress, neither of our families were there, because I knew that they would all watch me, and him, and they’d be thinking it: Is it going to happen again?”

“You’re saying your entire life with Steven was my fault?”

“I’m saying that I made a choice, and that what happened with you was a factor—Not a fault, a factor. And why!” You let out another harsh hysterical laugh as tears welled in your eyes, “Why didn’t you just talk to me? What did I do then to make you think that you couldn’t talk to me?”

“I wasn’t ready!”

“And we could have talked about that! What made you think that I wouldn’t have been alright with moving the wedding back, or going to counseling with you, or whatever you would have needed to get us there?”

“You wanted to get married.”

“I wanted you, Harvey! I would have waited, I—” You turned away, sniffling heavily as tears slipped from your eyes. “Fuck. Ugh.” You raised your glass, draining it before striding over the counter, desperate to put some more distance between the two of you. You set the glass down and yanked a paper towel off of the roll, swiping at your under eyes to clear away any running mascara. You blew your nose as well before balling up the tissue and lobbing it toward the trash can. You heard Harvey’s approaching footsteps, and you pulled in a deep, stuttering breath as he rested his hands on your shoulders.

“...There’s no way for me to take back or change what I did.”

“Would you if you could?”

“Yes.”

“...Okay.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know.”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as his hands soothingly rubbed over your arms. You sniffled again, swiping away a stray tear before resting your hands on the counter.

“You changed the way that I love, Harvey,” You shook your head. “For better or worse, whether you meant to or not, you changed it.” You glanced back toward him. “I can’t get those bits of myself back. You took them from me.”

“I know. I took them from both of us.”

You nodded, slowly letting yourself lean back against him. His arms curled around your middle, and you heard a soft, almost relieved groan leave him. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, allowing yourselves to settle.

“...Stay tonight?” He murmured after a few moments. You nodded, smiling as his hold tightened on you again, as if wary that you would change your mind.

He had a few more smile lines. His hair still mussed the same; he still made little mumbling noises as he slowly rose from sleep to consciousness. He was still a furnace to sleep beside, and he still held you through the night. It was almost a relief that none of that had changed.

Waking up in his arms made you feel like it had when you were younger: safe, and loved, and wanted. You hadn't appreciated it when you'd had it just a few months ago, but you were desperate to catch on to every little bit of him now.

You were never going to be able to turn back the hands of time—to go back and warn him, or yourself, or someone that your first wedding day would be a disaster, that it would set you off on a path that you could never have anticipated for yourself. Discussing what had happened hadn't truly healed any of your old wounds.

But as the sun began to creep over the Manhattan skyline and seep into Harvey’s bedroom, you felt closer to peace than you had in a long, long time.

Harvey snuffled, nuzzling your shoulder as his fingers curled in your borrowed nightshirt.

“You awake?” He mumbled, the same low, gravely murmur that you had once loved, and missed.

“Mmmhm.”

“Want coffee?”

“Yes.”

He yawned widely, pressing his face into your shoulder and warming your skin through the fabric. “Bagels?”

“Sure.”

“‘Kay.”

Neither of you made a move to get either. Instead, you combed your fingers through his hair, closed your eyes, and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you both fell back asleep.

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#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #Harvey Specter fic #Harvey Specter imagine #Bad Faith

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soulkeeper801 · 1 year

Text

What the heart wants pt. 2 - Mina

Part 1

Requested: could you do a part 2 of what the heart wants, where after a long time Mina goes to a very famous bar an it turns out it’s y/n’s

Mina x f!reader

Mina never forgot the look of betrayal on your face the day she asked you to not look for her again.

She knew what she did was wrong, but after such a long time with Chaeyoung, her heart begged to have a second chance with her. Mistakes can happen, people learn from them, they grow up and change for the better. At least that’s what she wanted to believe.

So she asked her to move in together, out of the city. Somewhere far enough for her to never cross paths with you again. Mina asked Chaeyoung to build a life together in Japan, where they got married after almost two years of getting back together.

Mina was happy. She loved her wife and was ready to stop looking back, to stop reminiscing about the short time she spent with you going back and forth between the bar and the little road to her house.

Deep inside, she hoped you were happy too. She hoped you would be living a happy life filled with blessings.

But the way her heart fluttered at the thought of you, made her realize how she also hoped you thought of her from time to time.

Mina got a job at a good company in Tokyo. She spent almost all day at the office taking care of the multiple cases that were assigned to her, getting home really late, finding her wife soundly sleeping almost every day.

It didn’t take long for Chaeyoung to fall back on old habits. It started with her going away for a whole day, then a couple of days, until she didn’t come back to the house for a week.

Mina knew she wasn’t a stay at home kinda girl. She needed her freedom, freedom that got cut short the moment they got married.

She was willing to put up with it, for the sake of their marriage, but after finding out Chaeyoung was seeing someone else, she couldn’t step back.

It cost her sleepless nights crying to herself. The life she had envisioned for the both of them crumbled down as she saw the girl that promised her a forever, going away with someone else.

It took a couple of weeks for Chaeyoung to leave the place completely. No trace of her in the apartment they had rented in the best part of the city. But all the memories would come back at night, hurting Mina more than she could ever handle.

She quitted her job immediately after finding out the same position was available in Seoul. After barely over a year of a failed marriage, she was ready to start a new journey from zero. Going back to Korea was also a chance to get reconnected with her old friends, the friends who never let go of her even if she moved to another country.

“I can’t believe you’re finally coming back!” Jihyo squealed over the phone.

Jihyo still lived in their old shared apartment in the town she used to live in. After Mina moved out, her girlfriend moved in and they have lived happily ever since.

“Sana is driving us to Seoul. Nayeon would probably tag along, too,” she informed enthusiastically, “we’ve missed you so much, Mina” she whispered the last part.

She missed them too. She missed the quietness of her old city, the closeness of the neighbors, her old little job.

You.

“The first week of moving is going to be crazy,” Mina said, sighing deeply. “It’s gonna be refreshing seeing your faces over the weekend. I’ve missed you, too”.

From time to time, she let her mind wander around the thought of never leaving you. What could have happened if she never got back with Chaeyoung and decided to set for the good girl for once?

“Have a nice trip, can’t wait to see you!” Jihyo said excitedly before hanging up.

As she guessed it, the first week of moving was hell. Some of her furniture didn’t arrive on time, the internet wasn’t connected yet, she still received the old tenant’s mail. The only thing getting her through was the fact that her friends were coming to the city to hang out with her on the weekend.

“It’s been ages!” Jihyo said, throwing herself to Mina’s arms after she opened the door of her new apartment.

Mina’s eyes filled with tears of happiness at the sight of her friends after almost three years of being away. All the memories coming back to her.

“Please come in”.

Neither Jihyo nor Nayeon liked their friend’s ex wife. They knew the kind of girl she was and were sure she deserved so much better. Even if they tried to warn her for the longest time, it felt like Mina was blinded. Blinded enough to go through all the suffering by herself so far from them. But now that she was back, they wouldn’t let her make any other wrong decision. They were going to take care of her, the way only real friends would.

“Let’s go out for a drink,” Jihyo suggested after catching up on their lives.

“Or several,” Nayeon replied, getting an amused chuckle from Mina.

“There’s this place,” Jihyo trailed off, getting her phone to look for the address, “that opened a few weeks ago… It’s only 10 minutes away from here!”

Nayeon took a look at her phone, “there’s no way we can get there without a reservation, we’ll have to queue for over an hour and yet we won’t be guaranteed to get in”.

Sana did the same. “Oh, I know that place,” she said, taking her own phone and typing something in, “my cousin works there as a bouncer, he can get us in if I ask him”.

“That’s why I love you!” Jihyo shouted, planting a big smooch on Sana’s cheek.

Sana giggled and made a phone call to make sure they could get in.

“Done!” she said, after a minute. “Don’t I deserve another kiss?” she asked Jihyo, offering her lips in a pucker this time.

Mina chuckled at them. After all this time, they were still going strong, supporting each other, living a happy life together. She sighed.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Nayeon said, caressing her friend’s arm after catching her sinking in her own thoughts.

Mina nodded softly before they started getting ready to go out.

“I told you, this is the biggest deal these days,” Jihyo said as they found a parking spot near the bar. “Only the best people get in there, and we’re about to!”

“Where’s your cousin?” Nayeon asked.

“He’s over there, we gotta pretend we have VIP invitations tho. He’s gonna scan our phones and we can get it”.

Everyone in the queue looked at them with envy. Only top influencers, idols and public figures were personally invited to the place. So when they took their phones for the bouncer to scan the QR, people knew they were a big deal.

“I’m loving the attention,” Jihyo said as she stepped into the bar.

As soon as Mina stepped in, a lot of things seemed oddly familiar. The way the bottles were scattered behind the bar, the colors of the lights and even the kind of music that was blasting through the speakers hanging from the roof.

“I’m gonna get us drinks,” Mina said. She wanted to relax, to forget everything that was on her mind so she knew what to do.

Making her way to the bar, she noticed there were also a lot of people waiting for their drinks. It took her a while to get the bartender’s attention but she made it at the end. She came back to the table with four tequila shots.

“To our friendship,” Jihyo said, wrapping her arm over Mina’s shoulder.

“To our friendship!!” the other girls replied with the same energy.

After a couple of shots, the girls were already on the dancing floor. Mina wasn’t a party girl under any circumstance, in fact, the nights she spent at the little bar you worked at were the most nights she was actually at a bar. However, the place she was at was ten times bigger, there was even a live band and dancers.

She smiled at herself just thinking about how different things would have been.

“Uhm… Mina?” Jihyo said, her eyes widening at something she saw in the distance.

Mina followed her gaze and as soon as she realized what surprised Jihyo, her own smile faded away.

“Y/N…?”

“Congratulations, Ms. Y/N,” the investor said, clinking her glass to yours. “This place is exactly what we were expecting in a business. I’m sure the board will just quickly review your balances but the outcome seems to be very positive”.

You took a zip of your drink and smiled widely at her words, taking a look at everything you had worked so hard for. The bar was a success, there were hundreds of people waiting to get in not only on the weekends, but every night. The investment you were being offered was the final push to get the brand overseas.

For everyone at the bar it was any other Saturday night. For you, it was the beginning of a journey.

You excused yourself and made your way to the bar, to check on everything as you used to do every night. The bartender was serving four tequila shots.

The transparent liquid brought a smile to your face. A smile that turned sour after a second, remembering how everything went down.

From time to time you still wondered what you did wrong. Time had passed, yet her soft smile and her beautiful eyes would somehow sneak into your dreams to remind you of everything that could have been.

You sincerely hoped she was happy, even if it wasn’t with you.

“A shot of tequila, please,” you asked the bartender.

“Yes, boss,” he answered immediately, pouring the liquid on a small glass for you.

“This place is yours?!” a voice shouted from your side, almost making you choke on the drink.

“Uhm, yes?” you said, trying to remember where you knew that face from. It seemed really familiar, yet you didn’t want to give a wrong name.

“I’m Jihyo, remember me?”

Mina’s roommate, was the first thought that crossed your mind. Did that mean Mina was there too? A wave of nervousness crossed your body.

“I do,” you simply said, expectant of what she was going to say.

Part of you hoped Mina wasn’t there. Your life was starting to take off and seeing her would only bring you back to the dark place you were a couple of years ago after she broke things off.

But your heart hung onto the thought of her finally being available for you to love unconditionally, for her to give you the tiniest hope that you could be together.

“How’s… How’s Mina?” you blurted out, regretting immediately asking the question. You couldn’t help but check her socials from time to time and knew she was married and living happily with her wife in Japan.

It would only hurt more to have that information confirmed by her best friend.

“Uhm,” Jihyo trailed off, “well, she just moved back and…” she continued, “why don’t you ask her?” she asked, signaling to a table with her eyebrows.

You followed her gaze and froze on the spot.

Mina’s eyes were fixed on you as if she had been expecting you to look her way. Her fingers were fidgeting on a champagne glass.

Your heart skipped a beat. Out of all things that could happen, seeing her was not something you expected.

She looked beautiful, as always. Even if it felt like you haven’t seen her in ages, the feelings came back to you as if it had only been a day.

Your feet moved on their own approaching the table where she was sitting with two other girls. None of them seemed like the one that took her away.

She stood up immediately to walk towards you and it gave you the chance to notice there wasn’t a ring on her finger.

It only brought hope to you.

“Mina,” you whispered, not knowing what to do.

“Y/N,” she breathed out, “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her face filling with sadness.

You shook your head hurriedly at her words, trying to make them go away.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Mina nodded, her anxiety being replaced by calmness once you showed her a sincere smile.

Not a hint of anger, resentment or anything she knew she deserved.

“A shot of tequila, please,” she said, her eyes not leaving yours.

You smiled at her, getting behind the bar and serving two shots by yourself.

Maybe this was life giving you a second chance to start all over again.

And this time you were going to make it right.

#twice x f!reader #twice x reader #mina x f!reader #mina x reader #what the heart wants #soulkeeper801

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tadc-ragatha · 6 months

Note

Congratulations on 50+ followers and may you gain many more!! 🎉

You truly do deserve it with your detailed writing style and I absolutely adore the writing you did for my request! If you don’t mind me requesting once again and if you feel motivated to, may you please write for Kinger and a character of your choice with 🌠🎠

May you have a well day/night and don’t forget to take care of yourself! :)

-⚜️Anon

Starry-Eyed Carnival Date

TW: Abstraction/"death"/going insane, memory loss, guilt/self-blame, angst

Type: Fic; romantic-related, platonic. Emoji details: 🌠 (Shooting Star) Stargazing, 🎠 (Carousel Horse) Amusement park activity. Game link [x].

A/N: "Kinger reminisces on his date with Queener." No reader. Kinger x Queener. As of posting, only pilot has come out.

Thank you!! I'm very flattered and glad to know my writing style is being received well! You're absolutely allowed to request again, don't worry about it! I love knowing people loved my work so much they came back for more. You get a special Queener appearance because I liked this idea so much (she's not in the game, so please don't request for her otherwise guys)! I took some time to make this because I wanted to make it well.

Also, petition to name the Kinger x Queener ship Chess-Rule-Shipping? Or something adjacent to that? I think it's cute, anyway.

Each week would end with a special activity. Usually, this meant a longer, more in-depth one outside of the tent. This week, Caine had chosen to send the crew on a night activity at the carnival.

The purpose of the activity was to go on a scavenger hunt and collect as many puzzle pieces as possible and complete the final puzzle before the others. There were twenty-five in total, and three different puzzles for the three different groups. As such, each group was to consist of a pair. Each pairs' puzzle pieces were at different locations in an attempt by Caine to stop others from sabotaging the experience.

Walking through a path lined by food stalls, Kinger and Gangle looked down at their clue. It was a scrap piece of paper with the words typed on with a typewriter. Held in Gangle's free hand--the other one kept busy with her broken comedy mask--was the clue. Kinger kept the six puzzle pieces they had collected in his. So far, the pieces presented sections of very colourful oblong shapes.

Kinger read over the clue again, "'circular eye of the carnival. Red.'"

"It must be the Ferris Wheel, right?" Gangle turned to look at him. Kinger nodded, walking off ahead of her through the crowd of NPCs.

Looming above them was the Ferris Wheel. Its frame was a plain white, but each carriage was painted a different colour of the rainbow. At least fifteen carriages were suspended.

"We have to wait for a red one," Gangle said. As if on cue, a red carriage stopped before them. Kinger stepped aside and put his hand out to his left.

"After you." He gestured to the door.

Stepping inside the carriage, the two looked around. Under the seats, over the seats, and between the bars; they found nothing. Until Gangle grabbed onto the seat itself and tried to pull it up. It worked, revealing the next clue of the game and puzzle piece.

Kinger congratulated, "Oh! Good work, Gangle. Now, we better get going." Turning to exit the carriage, he found the door slammed in his face. Gangle gasped as he paused for a moment. "Oh."

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, I guess we just wait for the ride to be over," he replied. Sitting down, he looked out the window as the ride jolted to a start, swaying the two back and forth.

Outside, they could see the lights of the carnival below. Yellow and warm, they filled the atmosphere of the digital world with a strange yet familiar feeling. Different food stalls of different colours were busy with customers, the scents of their products wafting through the air. Up above them, the fake stars shone and twinkled.

Kinger sighed.

Gangle looked over to him, asking in a timid voice, "what's wrong?"

For a short moment Kinger didn't reply. Instead, he continued to stare out the bars of the red carriage, out into the sky. Finally, he spoke up.

"I like the colour red," he said.

"What?" Gangle responded.

"I said, I like the colour red."

"What--what about red?"

Another moment of silence. She looked between him and his view of the stars.

"My wife was red," he said. "I like my wife."

"Oh...Um..."

He continued, "she liked the carnival, too. I remember I took her here on our first anniversary."

"How--how long had you been together?"

"Oh, many years." He cocked his head back with an unseen eye-smile that quickly faded. "I don't remember much about what we did now." Leaning against the bars, he looked up to get a better view. "It was a night just like this. Lots of stars."

An awkward silence passed. Or, Gangle thought it was awkward. To her, she could not tell what Kinger was thinking. All he did was continue to stare, not a single discernible emotion in sight. Yet there was still a sadness to him. She fiddled with her ribbons.

Kinger sighed again, "Queener loved the stars. She had the stars in her eyes that night."

The Ferris wheel was nearing a third of the way through its rotation. Deep down, she wished it would end sooner. The silence was deafening. So much so, she mustered up all her courage to ask a question.

"What was Queener like?"

"Queener was great." He didn't look back at her. "She was all work, no play. But she was nice." Another pause. "I miss her."

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"May--maybe we should focus on something else." She looked down. The carriage was at its peak.

"I think that's why she left," he said. Gangle looked over at him quizzically. He didn't need to look at her to know her expression. "She couldn't remember anything. It's hard not knowing your name, but then she forgot what she looked like, and her family, and our pets..."

"You had pets?"

He smiled with his eyes again, replying, "oh, lots of them! I don't know what they were, though." The smile disappeared. She could definitely see tears in the bottom of his eyes.

"Oh."

"But...Queener was always too hard on herself. She always thought she was too strong to ask for help," he gave a sad chuckle. Twitching his eyes around, he tried to stop himself from giving in as the tears slowly dropped down onto the floor. "I think she didn't want to talk to me because she didn't want to hurt me."

"I think--"

"I didn't talk to her, either. I didn't want to stress her out. I...I thought maybe she'd be okay if she just had time. I thought--"

"Kinger--"

"I...I miss my wife, Gangle!" he sobbed. The tears were full-flowing as he cried into his hands. With her ribbon, Gangle tried to put a reassuring hand on him.

"Kinger, I...I--"

"It's my fault!" he wailed. "If I--if...If I had just said something, then she would've still been here!"

Gangle didn't say anything.

"I loved her and it's my fault she's gone!"

She shook her head, saying, "no, it's not."

"It was!"

"No, it wasn't. I don't...I think...Nobody really--nobody really gets out of here." She shook her head. Kinger looked over at her. His wailing had stopped for a moment, replaced with red eyes and sniffles.

"What?" he asked.

She said, "I don't think it was your fault. We all go eventually." The carriage halted again. Looking down, she could see it was near the end. She continued, "we don't--if she was...Someone would have left anyway." Tears were streaming down her own face.

Kinger didn't say anything. He simply looked down at the floor where the pool of his tears was. As the carriage reached closer to the ground, the light became brighter. Soon, they were both flooded with the yellow warmth of the lamps.

Kinger dried his eyes with his hands. Standing up, the Ferris Wheel came to a halt as he picked up the puzzle pieces. Meanwhile, Gangle took her broken mask and the new clue. Watching him intently, she could see him staring down at the ground, seemingly unresponsive to his environment as he walked out the carriage door.

#amy's writing #⚜️ anon #50 follower event #the amazing digital circus spoilers #tadc spoilers #death tw #mental health tw #memory loss tw #angst tw #guilt tw #self blame tw #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc kinger #tadc queener #kinger x queener #tadc headcanon #tadc gangle #tadc abstraction

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pinknightsinmymind · 2 years

Text

【 mascara - ellie williams 】

ellie williams x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

content: angst, hurt-comfort, wife!reader, arguing, swearing, SPOILERS FOR TLOU2, mentions of death and grieving

summary: ellie returns from santa barabra, but she's not the same. you reminisce on how she used to be and where this all started in order to understand what got her to this point.

a/n: i was inspired by "mascara" by deftones to write this bc of the angstiness and moodiness i love angst its so delicious i want to eventually turn this into a full length fic that really fleshes out the whole story so lmk in the replies if you want to be on the taglist for that <333

Ellie had started to change the moment Joel passed away; there was no question about it. However, even after that shattering blow to the girl’s life, it didn’t completely destroy her. Not yet, at least. Joel’s death had fragmented her into pieces, but you could still see those pieces within her. Whenever you looked into those green eyes of hers, you saw her, and you knew she was still there. On the way to Seattle you could catch those glimpses of her every time you looked at her, and when your hands wrapped around her waist, the horse jostling you two as you journeyed, you felt her there. You felt Ellie. During and after Seattle, it was as if that small fragment of her that was left fractured in half. She had lost yet another piece of herself, and it was as if she had shrunk in size. Despite noticing this change, she was still your Ellie, and you’d do anything for her. You knew she was grieving, that she was going through a hard time, but you still did your best to comfort her.

You thought the distance and time would help, but the reality haunted her even in her sleep. Sometimes she had episodes and you’d find her screaming. It was hard to watch her go through this, but you still did everything you could for her. You were her wife, after all, and that’s what you were there for. Ellie had asked you to be her wife after things had calmed down from the Seattle trip. It had been at least a few weeks before she asked, and when she did you took it as a sign that maybe things would change for the better. She said that’s what she wanted. She wanted to change, to move forward, and for a while it seemed like they did. Yet the past continued to haunt her, and you saw the light in her eyes dim more and more.

The turning point was when Tommy meddled in your lives and told you both he had found Abby. You were angry with him for doing that, for disturbing your home, and for putting those thoughts in Ellie’s head again—but once it was done there was no undoing it. Once the cogs started turning you couldn’t stop them. Ellie was stubborn, and no amount of pleading was going to change her mind. She was just like her father. You stayed up late with her that night in an attempt to talk about it.

“Please, just think about this," you pleaded with her. “I need you. I need you here. With me. Don't do this again. We barely made it back last time.”

“And what about Joel? So she just gets to live and he doesn't?"

“Ellie, I miss Joel, too. I know how much he meant to you, but would he really want this? For you to abandon everything for her?”

“He'd want me… to finish what I started.”

“Goddammit, Ellie.” You didn’t know if it was the physical or mental exhaustion, but you were so tired. "Baby, please. Let's just go to bed." Ellie closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She nodded her head and grabbed your hand, leading you to your shared bedroom.

“Let's go to sleep, love,” she said quietly. A wave of relief washed over you as the two of you settled back into bed, her warmth comforting you as you slept. But that only lasted a few hours, because you woke up cold that next morning. You looked everywhere around the house, only to realize that she really had left anyway in the middle of the night.

At first you were angry. She lied to you and left you in the farm house all alone, even after the two of you talked it out. You felt betrayed. The two of you were supposed to be a married couple who worked together as a team, but it seemed she completely disregarded that. Your anger festered for a few hours until it was completely washed away by something else. Once the anger disappeared, it was replaced by fear and sadness. Ellie may have been tough, but she’d be completely on her own. Who knew when she’d come back, if ever, which is what scared you even more. You began to weep after that, the tears cleaning away whatever resentment had been growing initially.

After Santa Barbara is when you felt Ellie change completely. It was like the final piece of her left inside finally disintegrated and disappeared like dust on the wind. It seemed as if she lost herself completely in her mission and fell apart at the seams.

You stared in horror as you saw her coming up the steps. Her messily chopped hair was pasted to her forehead with sweat and Lord knows what else. The tank top she wore was dirty with grime and dried blood. She clutched her side and she walked slowly with a limp. The blood on her clothes seemed old because the only thing coating her skin was sweat and the occasional dirt. What happened out there? you thought. As much as you wanted to scold her, to cuss her out, to be angry with her, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you rushed towards her and pulled her in. She was alive, and she had come back to you at last. She awkwardly wrapped her arms around you, but it felt almost reluctant as she grasped you weakly. You led her inside as fast as you could while she stayed silent. You questioned her as soon as the door slammed shut.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Everywhere,” she said. She didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood right now. You held her hands in yours and inspected her arms, finding a new bite on her and old cuts that were barely starting to heal. You eyed the tattoo of hers you knew so well, the one you’d trace with your hands whenever she held you. It was then that you noticed the two missing fingers on her left hand. How will she play her guitar? you thought. She just stood there as you looked at the old blood and dirt on her body, but the real horror was her side. She winced as your hands trailed down to the darkly stained side of her shirt. She lifted up her top and you saw the dirty bandages wrapped around what seemed to be a large wound.

“Do you want to take a shower?” you asked her. “Then I can take care of these?” She nodded. She walked away from you as if she was in a trance to the washroom. You started to pace around the house when you heard the water start to run. You didn't know what to say to her or what she was feeling. In fact, you couldn't read her at all, not anymore.

Ellie entered the downstairs area of the house in fresh clothes as soon as her shower ended. You hadn’t seen her around the house in months, and it felt almost foreign. It felt strange, almost like she was a guest. She took a seat at the dining table expectantly in front of the first aid kit you had taken out. You slid out one of the chairs and sat in front of her before beginning your work. You pulled up the green cotton shirt she wore and immediately sanitized the wound. Ellie grit her teeth and let out small hissing sounds here and there, but other than that she remained completely silent. Once you were done cleaning the wound you applied ointment and fresh gauze. The silence was killing you. This had been the girl you could talk to for hours about anything, who rattled off corny jokes, who would tell you all about space and her comic books. You didn’t know this quiet woman before you.

“I’m… glad you’re back,” you said in an attempt to fill the silence.

“You are?” she whispered. Her surprise caught you off guard and made your heart swell in pain.

“Of course I am.”

“I thought you’d be angry with me.”

“I was at first, but you getting home safe was more important to me.”

“You should hate me,” she said sadly. “You shouldn’t be this patient. I’m a piece of shit.”

“Don’t say that.” You finished wrapping up the bandages and started to clean up your supplies from the table. The silence hung in the air again, and you both knew why. The elephant in the room—the unanswered question: did she do it? After you finished cleaning the table you looked into those green eyes that you used to know so well. What happened to the light that used to be inside them? They used to feel like the sunlight that drifted into the forest, but now it was as if the sun had set and you traveled through a dark forest all alone.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. She was still as perceptive as always.

“Did—did you go through with it?” You fidgeted with your fingers nervously. You looked at her, and it was as if dark clouds gathered in her eyes.

“No.” You didn’t know why you were shocked, but you were. She hadn’t gone through with it? Why? What had happened in Santa Barbara? Yet, even despite all your shock, you don’t know what you would’ve thought if she did go through with it. “Can we go to sleep?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” The two of you walked to your old bedroom awkwardly, but when you felt her next to you in bed, it was as if it all melted away. She pulled you in close to her, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as she breathed in the scent of your clothes. She had missed this—missed you—but she didn’t know how to say that. She hoped you could tell by the way she held you.

Sleeping next to Ellie again brought two fears forward for you: one, that she’d wake up and leave again, and two, how bad her night terrors would be. Ellie stirred a few times in her sleep, speaking and moving around a bit, but no screaming. Your other fear didn’t come true, either, because when you woke up in the morning she was still holding you.

Ellie was a vision when you first laid eyes on her, and as much as she still is, she's different now. Something broken and dark has settled within her, and you don’t know what to do about it. The first few days she’s back home are awkward and quiet. You only spoke to each other when you needed to as the silence made itself the newest member of your family. While you stayed inside the house reading, cleaning every now and then, sleeping to pass the hours, Ellie stayed outside. She tinkered with things that needed fixing around the house, took care of the animals, watered the plants, anything to not be in the house. She would hardly look at you, and the only time she touched you was when she held you to go to sleep. It was like you didn’t exist. In some way you found that to be more painful than having to deal with her absence while she was away. You didn’t know what to do. You felt so hopeless and alone despite having Ellie back. She made you feel like an unwanted guest. She wouldn’t say anything about what happened either. The mystery of those events haunted you. You started having nightmares of all the things that could’ve possibly happened to her, each one more frightening than the next. However, what you wanted to know more than anything, was why she didn’t go through with it. She had made avenging Joel her life mission, and then she discarded it? Why? It’s not that you were disappointed and felt she needed to exact her revenge, you were just confused.

That night you had gone to bed earlier than usual as you stared up at the ceiling lost in thought. You heard her footsteps on the creaking floor before she entered the room, the covers rustling as she climbed in them and tried to pull you close. You pushed her hands away and turned around to face the other direction which seemed to confuse her.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” you asked. “You won’t even look at me, and this is the only time you touch me. It makes me feel like a pathetic lost puppy just waiting for you.”

“Look, I’m just trying to sort through my thoughts.”

“And that justifies you ignoring me?”

“I’m going through a tough time right now,” she said defensively. You sat up in bed and faced the wall, staring at the chipping paint. You couldn’t believe her right now.

“You’re going through a tough time, Ellie? Really? You’re so fucking full of it.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so goddamn needy. What are you going through, [Y/N]? Huh? Tell me. What is it that’s going on in your perfect little life that’s so bad?” You whipped your head around to look at her.

“You left me in the middle of the night! You left without a goddamn word to hunt down Abby in another state for months. I never knew if I was gonna see you again while I was stuck here on the farm all alone.” You were so angry with her right now. You tried to be understanding, you tried to be there for her, but you could only do so much for a person who didn’t want to accept your kindness.

“That’s your fucking problem, [Y/N],” she spat venmously. You saw her eyebrows furrowed together, and that’s how you knew she was really angry.

“Yeah? What is it? Tell me since you know every-fucking-thing.”

“You are just a stupid lost puppy. You’re not as smart as you think you are and you have no backbone. If you were smart you would’ve left me the moment I disappeared.” You knew she was just saying that to hurt you and get under your skin. She used to do that in the past. This was her way of pushing you away: her favorite defense mechanism.

“I stayed because I love you, Ellie. I couldn’t just leave.”

“That’s your other problem,” she said. “Loving me is another mistake you made along with marrying me.”

“How could you say that?” you asked her. “I just want to be there for you but you don’t make it easy.”

“Because I don’t deserve your kindness. I don’t deserve any of it. Nothing. I’m a disgusting, awful human being and I have no place to expect anything from the world or you.”

“We’ve all done terrible things, Ellie.” You shook your head as you stared at her. Her cheeks were flushed from her rage, but more than anything she looked tired. It hurts you to see her like this. Who was she? Where was the girl you used to know? The reality of it all made you tear up.

“Not you,” she said. “You’re nothing like me. I don’t want to ruin you with how—how dirty my hands are.”

“You won’t.”

“You weren’t there. I don’t know who I was in Santa Barbara; Seattle was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“So why don’t you enlighten me then?” You were tired of the back and forth with her. You just wanted answers, and she slowly provided them. She told you about the Rattlers, about Abby, the fight, how she lost her fingers, all of it. When she got to telling you about the fight, that’s when she broke down.

“And I saw her there, carrying that kid, and she—she looked just like Joel. Goddammit, she looked just like him. All I could think about was how she probably looked the way Joel did when he protected me.” She wiped the tears away from her eyes, but they kept streaming down her cheeks. “And if I killed her? That fucking kid would just come after me. It would be endless.” She broke down into sobs, and it was then that you had enough. You scooted over and pulled her into your arms. She cried into your shoulder as you moved your hands through her hair.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” you said to her. “It’s okay. You did the right thing.”

“I know,” she sobbed. “I know. It’s what Joel would’ve wanted me to do. I miss him. I miss my dad.” She continued sobbing, her tears soaking up your shirt.

“I know, baby.”

“I just don’t want to lose you like everyone else. I just love you so much.”

“I know, honey, I love you, too.”

“Please tell me you forgive me. I want things to be the way they were before. I want to be the person you used to know. I know I’ve been so horrible.”

“I forgive you. I always do.”

“Marrying you was the best thing I ever did. I’m sorry I said those things.”

“You’ve always done that sort of thing as a defense mechanism. I saw through you, but you still pissed me off. You’re so hard headed, I bet you’re half-rock.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “What would I do without you?”

“Be so hard-headed that you turn into an actual rock.”

“I’m gonna beat your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m gonna get you some water, then we’re gonna go to sleep, okay?” You felt her nod her head against your shoulder before pulling away so you could get her water. You took a look at her face and saw how red and puffy her eyes were, but she was still so beautiful. You leaned in and placed a small kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes and accepted the gesture before opening them as you pulled away. You went down the stairs carefully to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest glass and filling it with water. When you returned to the room you found her still sitting on the bed waiting for you. You handed her the glass, and she accepted it willingly. You slid into bed beside her and rested your head on her shoulder. This time she gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Come here,” she said, placing the glass on her bedside table. “I’ve missed you so much.” She pulled you into her arms quickly and ran her hands all over your body. “I love you. Always. I’m so sorry for the mean things I said. You’re so patient with me. I don’t know if I even deserve that.”

“I think you do.”

“I’m tired,” she said, then pulled you to lay down next to her.

“Hey!” you said in surprise. She held you so close like she never wanted to let you go. You shifted to try and lay down in a more comfortable position, but she just squeezed you even tighter.

“No. Don’t move. Just lay with me.”

“At least let me lay down comfortably.”

“Fine,” she said. She let you out of her arms just long enough to get comfortable before pulling you back in again. “Do you remember that night we had that dance in Jackson?” she asked.

“I do. How could I forget?” you replied. Your head may have been buried in her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat, but you could tell she was smiling.

“I thought about that night whenever I needed strength. It kept me going. It’s one of my best memories, and in that moment I knew I was gonna marry you one day.”

“You’re being quite romantic.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” she said. You laughed at that.

“Well, your wife wants to go to sleep now, so good night.”

“Good night,” she whispered, petting your hair to lull you to sleep. That night you slept better than you had in months.

#tlou #tlou2 #tlou x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #the last of us ellie #the last of us #the last of us ii

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20forty9 · 1 month

Text

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter III - Sisyphus

Summary : Suliman makes the spirit realize something about itself and the curse it bears. You find yourself feeling more down than usual.

Word Count : 5.3k

Warnings : Suicidal ideation, uncomfortable touching because it's Suliman, lol.

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : Hiya! Back with another short chapter. I'm posting this one early because I'll be away next week and won't update for 2 weeks. I'll be active on Tumblr as always, though! As an apology for my going away, you get more Satoru and Suguru this chapter! Enjoy, please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love reading your comments and they motivate me. (I see your comments ladies, and they make me smile - I'm lurkin' and I'm stalkin' when you least expect it-) (please someone get this reference, I'm embarrassed now)

Sometimes the curiosity can kill the soul but leave the pain. ~Alice In Wonderland

Even after two or three weeks of back and forth blood tests, physical tests, psychological tests and even more tests , the initial shock that the spirit’s heart no longer belonged to itself didn’t wear off. It seemed that it checked its pulse every alternating hour, just to confirm that it truly wasn’t there. And each time without fail, there would be a lack of thumping underneath its shaky fingertips.

The missing heart didn’t seem to stop any normal biological workings of its body, however. Sweat still formed underneath its palms, blood still pumped throughout its body, but it was a mystery as to how. Even with all the lingering questions at the back of its mind, the spirit was too afraid to ask, scared that there would be a possibility that it would learn something it would rather not know in the first place.

It spends most of its time looking outside the window of its locked room. With every day that passes, it starts to resemble a prison cell more and more. The spirit would never imagine it would long for its old life, shrouded in naivety and unknowing of the current horrors it now faces. It feels melodramatic as it reminisces; stop complaining, you got what you deserved, a nasty voice says at the back of its mind . Why didn’t it just stay with its kind instead? Why did it have to wonder what the other side looked like? It spends most hours chastising itself for how stupid it was for shaking a dirty human’s hand.

Said-dirty human unlocks the door to the spirit’s room, a small smile playing upon her lips. Dreading that Suliman is gathering it for another test, it cowers into the furthest corner of its bed, shoulders raised up to its ears as it tries to make itself seem as small as possible, as if it could make itself vanish into thin air, but the glare it sends her is deadly.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she says, sitting down on the bed, hands neatly folded over her lap. “I come bearing good news.”

What you consider good news is terrible news for me, it thinks to itself, teeth grinding together.

“You’ll be allowed outside today,” Suliman wistfully looks outside the window, peering down and observing the garden outside.

That makes its eyes widen by a slight margin. It doesn’t remember the last time it felt the sun on its bare skin, nor the soft breeze enveloping it with a soft caress. Hell, it doesn’t even recall when it last smelled fresh air.

It realizes a moment too late that it gave too much of a reaction to the woman in front of it. She squints her eyes as the smile on her face grows, unnaturally so, pleased with herself. Too trusting, too expressive. Get a hold of yourself.

“Follow me,” she beckons it to follow as she gets up from the bed, taking slow steps out of the doorway as she leads it down the dimly lit hallway.

The spirit notices that there’s a new painting adorning one of the once-empty spaces along the wall; a picturesque illustration of a landscape made up of yellow sand and brown dead grass, with short trees with skinny stumps and lots of foliage. It can’t help but wonder where this location is. Its eyes scour the small details of the painting, noticing each brushstroke and dot that the artist left behind in their wake. The oranges and blues of the sky mix together, creating a beautiful sunset. At the bottom of the frame sits a golden plaque.

South Malawi… it reads the words in its head. Wonder where that is.

A shove to its shoulder from one of the men standing behind it pulls the spirit from its daydreaming, and begrudgingly, it continues to follow Suliman from behind. It knows it shouldn’t take the opportunity to go outside for granted, but it can’t help but think this is another one of her big schemes that will only cause pain and grievance.

The small group makes their way to the impressive greenhouse, and though it has passed through it multiple times by now, it still can’t help but admire the humongous banana plant that nearly reaches the top of the archway of the glass ceiling. It can see that it is flowering, the pastel pink of the flower’s petals contrasting against the vibrant green of the plant’s huge leaves. The spirit doesn’t know if it’s Suliman who takes care of this herself, or if she has a team of gardeners for it, but either way it holds a small smidge of respect to whoever upkeeps the greenhouse.

Right before they reach the exit of the greenhouse, Suliman stops and turns to face the spirit.

“I expect that you’ll behave and listen to what I tell you to do,” she says, eyes boring into its own. “If you don’t, I’ll be very disappointed.” Code-word for ‘I have no problem tossing you back into that room where you first woke up and letting you rot.’

Anxiously, it subtly nods that it will obey her. As badly as it wants to turn tail and run, the spirit knows that there is a high chance that whatever plan it tries to pull will inevitably backfire on it.

With that, the shaman smiles again with an air of satisfaction before she opens the doors.

Immediately, a small breeze brushes against its face, as if the wind is welcoming it back outdoors. The spirit inhales deeply, the smell of dewy grass hitting its nostrils – the garden must’ve been recently watered. It’s early in the evening, the sun barely starting to set, so most people are inside preparing dinner, leaving Suliman, the spirit, and her small group of men to themselves. There are a few small bats starting to fly haphazardly from tree to tree, the afternoon light casting cool shadows along the ground.

Suliman leads it through the gardens, her hands brushing through the neatly-trimmed foliage and stroking delicate flower petals. If she were anyone else, the spirit would think that this is the image of pure innocence, of embracing the natural beauty of the world, but in reality, it is anything but. Instead, this is the image of despicable ugliness, manipulation that can rot someone’s bones deep to their core.

They arrive at an expanse of land that remains untouched by the gardeners, void of trees and any shrubbery. With a wave of her hand, the group of men stop walking, hanging back and staying still along the path of the gardens. Their cold eyes stay locked onto the spirit, analyzing each breath it takes.

Meanwhile, Suliman continues to take a few steps forward, putting a fair amount of distance between her and the spirit. Her lips move as she moves her hands to form a symbol that it doesn’t recognize, familiar dark and wispy tendrils that once covered its arm being erected from the ground.

It immediately takes a few steps back, arms raising defensively in front of itself, fists clenched in case the shaman tries to attack it again. Instead, a smirk plays upon her lips, and with another quick motion of her hands, the tendrils move to wrap around themselves, slowly shaping into what looks like a scarecrow; black and purple shadowy arms outstretched with skinny stump-like legs to keep it standing upright.

When the weird scarecrow doesn’t show any sign of moving, the spirit’s shackles slightly lower, but its muscles are still tense in unease. It casts a confused look in Suliman’s direction, who approaches the spirit and steps behind it, her hand coming up to move its right bicep to raise again, this time to aim at the tendrils. Her other hand wraps around its waist, making dread and nausea pool in the familiar pit at the bottom of its stomach. It swallows down the rising bile at the back of its throat, eyes trying to focus on the scarecrow in the distance. Her touch makes its skin crawl, and it's almost considering ripping it off.

Suliman hooks her chin over its shoulder, gaze boring into the side of its head. The hand resting on its waist trails up the side of its rib, making goosebumps erupt along its skin, before it latches onto its chin, turning its head to face her. Her unnaturally soft skin seems like sandpaper against its own, making it swallow back the uncomfortable amount of spittle gathering in its mouth. When did it become so powerless?

“I want you to destroy that,” her eyes flit over to the scarecrow. “Use your fire.”

With that, she retreats to observe from behind, hands clasped together in expectation.

Its eyes drift back to the target in front of it. It knows from previous experience that if it tries anything with its other abilities, they won’t reply to its first initial pull until it does it again, but that only results in agonizing pain. What’s to say this won’t be different?

The spirit takes a quick glance back to the shaman looming behind it. Her eyes are almost closed from the large grin that stretches across her face. Everything about her is just… wrong. Unfortunately, it can’t afford to piss her off unless it wants to get locked in that cellar once again.

It takes a deep breath to steel itself, thumb pressing against its middle finger, closing its eyes to focus on singling out the cursed energy that surely must be enemating from the tendrils. Strangely enough, it feels nothing. Attributing it to its nervousness around Suliman, the spirit tries harder to concentrate, but there’s still a lack of cursed energy in the air. Very strange; a woman of her power should surely be exuding large amounts of it, especially the offsprings of her unintelligible technique, but there seems to be a void instead. Her control must be absolutely phenomenal, it thinks to itself.

No matter – after countless years of being deaf, its other senses have become impossibly more refined. Its eyes can pick out details that others cannot see from long distances, and for its ability to actually hit anything, it must know precise measurements. In the case of the scarecrow, it stands exactly fifty-four meters away from the spirit.

With a quick snap of its right hand, sparks emerge from the tips of its fingers, a hot beam of fire emerging and darting towards the target at high speeds, engulfing it in bright unnatural blue and cyan flames. When the flames and smoke dissipate a few seconds later, all that is left is a pile of ashes laying in the grass.

The spirit felt absolutely no pain.

But…

“Isn’t it amazing, what a blazing fire can decimate in a matter of mere seconds?” Suliman immediately invades its view, interrupting its slowly dawning horror. “You are gifted with such immense power… you could destroy anything that stands in your path.”

The insinuation that she has something else on her mind isn’t lost on it, but the spirit quickly backs away from her, trying to put a safe amount of distance between the two. Another snap of its fingers, and it summons a small flame on the tip of its index finger. Blue and cyan. It gets snuffed out as quickly as it came.

The nausea seems to take over again; the flames aren’t as hot as they originally used to be and are a completely different colour. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to manipulate fire that feels like it doesn’t belong to itself, like the element knows its own existence is wrong. Hot white anger pulses through the spirit, teeth grinding together as its jaw clenches painfully hard. How dare she reduce it to this? How dare she manipulate its very being this way? She’ll pay. It will destroy her and everything she’s worked for. The spirit still has its fire, it will make sure it decimates everything here. She’ll fucking regret the day she met this spirit–

Searing pain courses from its left arm and spreads throughout its entire body, making it double over, heaving and gasping shallow breaths of air. As it tries to recuperate itself, it sees Suliman crouch down to meet its eyes, tilting her head as if to taunt it further.

“Sorry, did I forget to mention…?” She says, grey eyes lighting up in morbid glee. “You better learn how to control that anger, spirit. What is it that Mark Twain said… oh, I know! Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. Or something along those lines– honestly, he never interested me very much.”

Her gaze trails down to the spirit’s left arm, and its own follows. Underneath the short silk wrap, it notices that the curse mark has peeked through the fabric. Did the fabric move when it snapped its fingers…? Wait, no–

“–It’s spreading,” Suliman finishes its thought process.

Just when it felt a flicker of hope at the prospect of being able to use its fire to ruin this god forsaken place, it all comes crumbling back down. There is no winning against this cruel shaman and whatever demented curse that has been placed upon it.

“Well, that’s enough for today. It’s getting late,” she says, waving a simple gesture at the men on standby. They immediately make their way over, surrounding her and the spirit as they force it to walk forward back towards the greenhouse. “I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.”

As the sun sets behind them, the spirit can’t help but think it would rather die than be here.

It yearns to let itself rot in the ground and let go.

It’s been about a week or so since you have seen any of the other students around campus. You would like to assume it’s the higher-ups doing it on purpose, trying to isolate you from the rest of them, but in reality you know that it’s you doing this to yourself. You’ve barely left your dorm room, spending your days moping in bed instead. For some reason, the nightmares have been getting worse. Though you used to be able to go for days without sleep, it doesn’t seem to apply to you now.

Your hands tremble, muscles weak and face dripping with sweat every time you wake up violently from whatever nightmare you were having. It’s enough to drain you for the rest of the day. Instead of going outside and training or doing anything else to distract yourself from it, you stare at the wall in front of you, eyes unfocused and mind anywhere but the present.

The lack of sleep makes the pain in your arm more bothersome than ever, but you can’t find it in yourself to care enough to take the shitty medication Yaga gives you. It sits untouched on the nightstand beside your bed.

It doesn’t help that you’ve also barely eaten, only having a few snacks that you keep in one of the drawers in the room and some water when you feel like you can stomach it. You had just enough energy today to take a shower for the first time in nearly a week, so maybe you’ll be able to actually eat a meal this evening.

You currently lay down on your side, back facing the doorway and gazed fixed upon the blank wall that the bed is pressed up against. Your hair is still damp from the shower you took an hour ago (you couldn’t be bothered to dry it), strands of hair staining the pillowcase with water. Your arms are left uncovered, clean bandages laying on the floor, exposing the curse mark and old scars that run along the length of them.

It felt like just when you thought things could start to look up, life always threw you in for another loop, no matter how hard you tried and continued to try. There were days where this bothered you more than usual, and some days where you just didn’t care enough, feeling completely numb. At least when you pretended to be happy, putting on a nice smile and ignoring the constant nagging voice at the back of your mind, you could imagine what it would be like to feel normal for once.

There’s a sudden large palm that gently touches your back, making you suck in a deep breath and flinch away, quickly turning your head to face whatever was disrupting your peace. Wide eyes lock onto dark brown ones, the familiar sight of Yaga greeting you instead of an enemy.

“ Sorry,” the teacher signs, immediately retracting his hand, opening his mouth to speak. “I tried to grab your attention, but you weren’t responding . ”

Immediately, you break eye contact and shake your head.

“ It’s fine, ” you move your hands lazily in reply.

Yaga takes in the sight; messy unkempt hair sticks up at awkward angles, your eyes are impossibly sunken in, and there’s a shake to your hands when you sign. The brunette sighs out deeply, disappointed that he didn’t catch onto this sooner.

“Come with me, let’s get you out of this room,” he says.

You can’t look directly at him, but you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips, either. I don’t want to, you think to yourself, I don’t want to go out there right now. I want to stay here. Leave me alone.

“You can’t stay in here and rot in bed all day, it’s not good for you. At least come with me to prepare some tea,” Yaga refuses to leave you alone in this state of mind, having become familiar with it by this point. There are bad days, and then there are worse days.

Empty, droopy eyes look back at him, not a single trace of emotion across your face. You know he won’t leave until he gets what he wants – you remember the time Yaga dragged you out of the room by the feet as you threw a tantrum – and resolutely shuffled your body to get out of bed.

Satisfied, Yaga stands up, extending a hand that you don't accept. Instead, you take the bandages laying on the floor and wrap them around to cover both arms individually. Though they’re loose, you don't want to be touched by anyone right now. Even though it’s not cold enough, you take an oversized hoodie and put it on, the loose sleeves barely touching the bandages. You’re already wearing some soft baggy sweatpants and fuzzy socks on your feet.

Without exchanging any words or signs, Yaga leads you out of the room after you put your shoes on. You don't bother looking up, either, too wrapped up in your own self-pity to really care enough about what he may have to say to you.

There’s a communal kitchen in the dormitories, and the teacher must’ve passed through before visiting your room because there are already two mugs full of piping hot green tea set on the table. Slowly, you both sit down across from each other.

For a solid twenty minutes, you don’t talk. Both of you slowly sip on your tea, letting the taste comfort you. You feel your muscles start to loosen up, though you can’t tell if it’s from exhaustion catching up or from the relaxed state the drink puts you in.

Yaga doesn’t ask any questions about what is running through your mind, knowing he won’t get an answer. When you are in this state, you tend to keep everything close to your chest; whether it’s because you want to, or because you don't know where to start or what to say is unknown to the both of you. For lack of a better term, you shut down.

Instead, he decides to take your mind off of things.

With a tap to the table to grab your attention, Yaga puts his cup down.

“I got approval from the elders to send you out on a mission with my students,” he says.

Your eyebrows lightly raise in surprise. You weren't expecting them to fold that quickly, even though it took a few weeks.

“They’ll be sending you all out tomorrow,” he takes the last sip left of his tea. “I want you to be very careful, don’t unleash anything that will make them lose their minds.”

You nod, feeling the swell of determination blossom in your chest. “ I won’t let you down. ”

Yaga slightly tilts his head to the side, the corners of his mouth quirking up very subtly.

“When have you ever?”

You look down at your empty mug. Just now? When I could barely manage to get out of bed, like usual? I let my emotions get the better of me again, I’ve become weak. It’s an endless cycle. I’m so tired.

Instead of acknowledging any of these thoughts anymore, you look back up at your friend, sending him a tired smile, one that you hope comes across as genuine.

“Nevertheless, stay alert and please take care of my students for me,” the teacher says, rising from his chair. “And go take a walk before the sun sets today.”

He doesn’t see you rolling your eyes behind his back as he walks away – he acts too much like a father sometimes. However, you decide to listen to Yaga anyway; a walk will do you some good.

After putting your empty cup in the dishwasher, you stuff your hands in the pocket of your hoodie, making your way outside. It’s more cloudy than usual today, the sun barely peeking through the dark clouds, but that doesn’t deter you. You take slow steps as you try to enjoy a leisurely stroll around campus. There doesn’t seem to be a single soul around today, probably staying inside just in case it starts raining.

It’s been a long time since you have lived in isolation away from everyone besides the man who took you in, so you don't feel lonely as you walk down the pathway by yourself, but you have to admit that it feels like something is missing. Though you had only interacted with Yaga’s students a handful of times, they had a certain energy they brought to the room, one that couldn’t be replicated on its lonesome. Geto, Gojo and Shoko always freely joke around each other, complimenting each other’s personalities perfectly.

You find yourself yearning for that connection that they have with each other.

You look up ahead, feet dragging along the ground as you notice a figure sitting underneath the shadows of a large tree, lost in their own world. The pure white hair is unmistakingly Gojo’s, who seems to be alone for once, not surrounded by his entourage of friends. He seems to be looking down at something in his lap, and you decide to approach him.

Gojo hears your footsteps on the pavement before he sees you, peering through his glasses to look at you.

“Wow, you look like shit,” he says.

Direct to the point as always.

You simply nod in reply. Too exhausted to think about Gojo’s discomfort surrounding the cursed spirit situation, you sit down next to him, back pressed against the thick trunk of the tree. Your shoulders are nearly touching, but you make sure to lean back just far enough once you notice the proximity.

You observe Gojo’s face from the side for a moment, noticing the furrow of his brows and the tired look in his eyes hiding behind the pair of sunglasses. If you were in any other state of mind, you might say that the white-haired man looks sad , but you quickly shake that thought out of your mind. Him, being sad? He’s the most arrogant and extroverted person here, always surrounded by someone. And yet…

Gojo closes the book resting in his lap when he notices you trying to take a subtle peek at what he was reading. There’s a strange leaping sensation in your throat as you see the cover.

Why is he reading a book about sign language?

The white-haired man tries to shuffle the book out of your sight, putting his large hands over it and turning to face you slightly.

“Can I help you?” He asks, and shit, you can’t tell if he’s joking or being sarcastic now that his eyes are covered by the pitch-black sunglasses.

You shrug awkwardly, shaking your head no.

“Wait, no, try signing instead,” Gojo says, turning his body slightly to face you more. You raise an eyebrow, but obey him anyway.

“ Seemed like you could use some company, ” you sign.

Gojo stares at him for a moment, brows furrowing, before he shakes his head, looking absolutely stumped. “Nope, I got nothing.”

Not entirely surprised, you point from the book to him. Why do you have this in the first place?

He huffs, sunglasses dropping down to the tip of his nose, bright blue eyes averting to look anywhere but at you.

“I gotta know when you’re talking shit about me,” he says, crossing his arms. “Plus, sensei seems to be super keen on trying to get you to join us for missions, so I have to understand you somehow. You can’t fight and write in that dumb notebook of yours at the same time.”

Though you can’t speak in the first place, you find yourself speechless. Or motionless, in this case . Gojo was so rude on your first meeting, shackles raised and ready to fight you at any moment, yet here he is now, determined to try to pick up sign language faster than any other person you have ever known… though he words it in his own strange way.

Unable to formulate a reply, you give him a soft smile, one that you know you don't need to fake.

The white-haired male doesn’t speak any further until he looks down at the book, moving his hands off of it to open it again, then looking back up at you, whose eyes are already on his lips.

“Teach me how to sign my name.”

So, for the next twenty minutes, you teach Gojo how to fingerspell his name, the latter catching on rather quickly. Of course he’s naturally good at sign language , you think to yourself somewhat bitterly.

Gojo’s blue eyes are uncovered at this point, sunglasses resting on top of his head as he brings his entire focus to the lesson at hand. He seems strangely invested, nodding his head vigorously as you sign your own name, then a common greeting.

His attention is finally diverted to something behind you. Gojo waves at the person with a small grin stretched across his face. Curious, you turn around, seeing Geto approach the duo.

“Hey guys, what’re you doing over here?” He asks, taking a seat in the grass in front of the two of you, legs crossed. He notices the book in Gojo’s hand. “Sign language?”

“Yeah,” The latter shrugs nonchalantly.

Geto grabs the book from off his friend’s lap, flipping through the pages. Wondering what the pictures look like, you move over to peer over Geto’s shoulder and take a glance at them. The raven-haired man tilts his head slightly to the side to allow for a better view, pausing at a specific page.

“Ohh, look, they have signs for animals,” he smiles.

An image of an unhealthy black betta fish sits right next to another of a pure white one with healthy fins. There’s a smaller picture of a red and white koi fish underneath both of them, rolled over on its back. Next to the images are illustrations of hand signals, with the names and meanings written next to them.

“This is how you sign fish, right?” He asks, turning to look at you. You suddenly notice how close your faces are to each other, but neither of you make a move to change that as you nod, pointing to the black fish.

“Sad fish, ” you sign, then point to the other one. “ Happy fish. ” Then, the red and white one. “ Dead fish.”

All three of you suddenly deadpan.

“Did you seriously pick up a kid’s book on sign language?” Geto turns his head up to look at Gojo.

“They didn’t have any other available books, sue me!” He immediately exclaims in defense, yanking the book back. “There weren’t many sign language books.”

“Kinda morbid for a kid’s book, don’t you think?”

“It’s never too early to learn about mortality!” He says with a gleeful smile spread across his face before reading through the pages again.

You huff in amusement before you get nudged by Geto’s elbow, who looks at you expectantly.

“How do I sign my name?” He asks, the look in his eyes so soft that it makes you nervously look away for a second.

Another ten minutes pass as you teach them both how to sign each other’s name. You’re just about to move onto Shoko’s name when there’s a large flash of light that explodes from the dark grey clouds in the sky. Immediately, it starts pouring. Thick droplets of rain cascade and puddles are already forming in the divets in the ground.

“Oh shit – let’s go inside!” Gojo exclaims, lifting his shirt up to hide the book underneath it to protect it.

“Run, run ! Go!” Geto laughs, grabbing your wrist and heaving you up off the ground, the three of you immediately dashing through the storm to the dormitories. Your converse are completely soaked when the raven-haired man accidentally makes you run through a large puddle, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. The cold rain is so refreshing as it hits your skin, waking you up more than your blistering shower did this morning.

You look back at Gojo, who frantically scrambles behind the two of you to slam the door shut as the wind picks up, blowing rain into the entranceway of the building.

The three of you exchange looks with each other, taking in each other’s soaked appearances. Then, the two young men burst into laughter, you silently laughing, eyes crinkling as the smile spreads widely across your face. You can see Gojo and Geto’s shoulders shake from their sniggering.

Your clothes are anything but dry, sticking awkwardly to your skin with mud covering you head-to-toe, but it’s so amusing that you all just keep chortling at the situation.

“Wh– wait– what happened to the book?!” Geto asks his friend through bursts of chuckles.

Gojo reaches underneath his soaked shirt, pulling the book out; all the pages are crinkled, water dripping down the spine of it. He pouts, realizing it’s completely ruined.

“Aw man,” he whines. “It’s totally done for.”

Reluctantly, he throws it in the trash bin near the front door, knowing there’s nothing he can do to salvage it.

“Well,” Geto says after catching his breath, looking at the two of you. “Guess we gotta go dry off. I’m gonna go take a warm shower, that rain was freezing .”

Gojo’s already running back to his own room, waving a simple goodbye to them and leaving a trail of water in his wake.

Geto awkwardly throws a smile in your direction. “See you tomorrow, I guess?”

You nod in reply, grinning and doing a sideways peace sign. “ See you later.”

As the raven-haired man walks in the same direction that Gojo went, you steal a quick glance at the trash bin. You make your way over to it, peering inside, and hesitantly reach an arm inside of it, grabbing the book that was thrown away just mere moments ago.

You hold the book close to your chest, heading in the opposite way from where the two men disappeared into to go back to your own room, feeling a weird sense of satisfaction in the back of your mind.

#jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x male reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x female reader

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thecooler · 4 months

Text

Background Music at the End of the World

Two weeks after GLaDOS unleashes her attack on Aperture, Rattmann finds comfort deep in the facility's cold, uncaring walls.

Words: 1,276

Relationship: Doug Rattmann & Companion Cube

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations

Written for @creativepup and @portal-secret-santa ! The prompt was: Doug and the Companion Cube share a nice moment together. I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Mirror

Doug wondered, as he made his way down a flight of rickety, old metal stairs, if anyone was coming for them. The odds of anybody having gotten out was low, nearly non-existent. He’d been close to the center of the facility when it all began, so he couldn’t know for sure, but he suspected that she had locked the exterior doors right off the bat. She’d always been bright, even before everything, and now she had infinite tools at her disposal. He hadn’t known Cave Johnson for long— had arrived at the tail-end of his life and had only been an intern, at the time. But still, he wondered how Cave would have felt, about what his project and partner had become.

Even now, long after his death, his face and voice lived on throughout the facility. It made the whole place feel haunted, and adding Caroline to the mix certainly didn’t help matters.

And so, Doug was in a haunted house, alone, unsure if anyone even knew he was here. If they did, would they even have the resources to help him? There was so much bullshit happening right now, with Black Mesa, and with the steady collapse of international politics ongoing since forever.

But there were still families, loved ones whose photos his coworkers kept in their wallets or the inside of their work lockers . It had been, judging by the tally marks on the wall of his den, two full weeks. He didn’t call his mom often, but she’d start to get worried soon. At least he hoped so. It might take another week. He thought, distantly, that maybe he should have been a better son, but that hardly mattered now. His neighbors certainly wouldn’t notice his absence— he’d never been the neighborly sort. He thought he’d talked to one of them once, when they needed someone to water their plants, and he was about ninety percent sure those particular neighbors had moved some time ago.

But he had coworkers with partners, with children. He couldn’t think of that for too long— if he did, it made being awake unbearable in its melancholy. Fuck, he’d met some of his coworkers kids, at take your daughter to work day last year. He remembered reminiscing with Chell about how her first time at Aperture had been at one of those events.

And now here they were: him, in the unseen back rooms of a dead facility, and her, waiting in cryosleep for GLaDOS to get bored. And then they had hope— delicate and wavering thought it was.

He settled down next to the Companion Cube and dropped his scavenging pack on the floor next to them. Several cans clattered onto the hard pavement and rolled away.

Doug sighed and rolled a can of beans back over with his foot. It made a satisfying little rattle as it bounced over bits of loose gravel. He reached forward to pick it up and began to rummage through his pockets for his can opener.

Then, the door above slammed.

Doug’s entire body tensed. The can slipped from his hands a clattered loudly onto the floor. Wide, dark eyes stared up the way he’d come, only to find the door there half open, just as he’d left it. His breath came in short, painful bursts, and as he slumped back against the Companion Cube, he reached back in his mind to find those old regulation techniques his former therapist had taught him. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

It did very little to sooth the tightness in most of his body, but it relaxed his lungs enough that he felt like he wasn’t about to suffocate, which was something.

Behind him, the Companion Cube began to vibrate. It started off at an even, consistent rumble, gentle and soothing, almost like a cat’s purr, except this cat didn't make his eyes itchy and watery. As his breathing became more regulated, though, the Cube changed its tune, literally, to something that felt— sounded— familiar. Doug squinted and shuffled to look at his companion, who stood still , benevolent as ever.

He began to hum along, and it didn’t take long doing that to figure out where he recognized the tune from. A soft, small smile spread across his face, and he said, “Is this Staying Alive ?”

The Cube paused for a few seconds, then, as though in affirmation, began playing the tune again. Doug chuckled and turned around to rest his arms and chin on top of his dear companion. Like this, he could feel the vibrations of the song rolling through his entire body.

Staying Alive, Staying Alive—

There was no getting through this without a sense of humor, he supposed.

“ Do you do other songs?” He said, “because I’ve got requests if you do. I left my phone in my locker, and it’d be dead by now anyway.” There were outlets back here, but many of them were old, and didn’t look like they’d been installed right. He thought if he tried to plug anything in, it’d be like an old cartoon, where his hair would sit up in all directions and he'd become a spiky blob of black soot. And then, probably, GlaDOS would figure out where he was and finish the job with neurotoxin. This thought made the whole situation feel less fun.

Staying Alive eventually petered out, and after a short pause, the Companion Cube said, “ I do requests, by the way, since you asked so nicely.”

“You’re a real gem,” Doug laughed.

“Not a gem. A cube.”

“Yeah, yeah, a real clever cube.” But it was more than that now too, wasn’t it? The Companion Cube was all he had— his closest and only friend and confidant. He reached back and brushed his hand gently against the surface of the Cube. When they’d first met, that horrible day, weeks and a lifetime ago now, it had been smooth and warm to the touch. A buzzing warmth still radiated off the surface, but it was also covered, much like his own skin, in a layer of grime and dust and rusty dried blood. Any soap he’d scavenged (and he’ d scavenged very little), had gone towards washing his hands. He knew he had to prioritize that, but that knowledge didn’t prevent guilt from creeping up in his gut.

“I should try to see if I can find some supplies to wash you. Window cleaner might work— not perfectly, but,” Doug worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

The Companion Cube rattled out a sound that was like a laugh— only not real. It was as though someone had heard hundreds of laughs, but had never done so themselves, and so wasn’t sure how to do it. It sounded choppy and harsh and strange. “That won’t be necessary,” the Cube said, not unkindly. After a short pause, it added, “Come on, enough moping. Give me a song to play.”

Doug thought for a moment, “Okay, but you won’t laugh, right? It’s kinda silly.”

“I don’t have the context with which to judge your music tastes.”

“Now, see, I don’t think that’s true.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Doug sighed and slumped back again, allowing his body to relieve some tension for the first time in— well, he didn’t need to think about how long it’d been. He said, “Do you know Dancing Queen , by Abba?”

The Companion Cube didn’t say anything to that, but after a moment, the familiar rhythm of the song began to echo around them.

Doug smiled softly to himself as he leaned back, closed his eyes, and listened.

#portal #portal 2 #doug rattmann #portal secret santa #writing tag

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peach-comix · 7 months

Text

The Beast Beneath [fem!Tav X Emperor, slight NSFW]

this fic is NSFW but it is not smut 👍 the sex is for PLOT RELATED REASONS and is symbolic (btw act 3 spoilers)

Also crossposted on AO3.

—

“Is there any part of your body that is not perfect?” She asked, her fingers trailing from his scalp down to his face, and her thumb finding its way to rest beneath his chiselled jawline.

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied with a sly smirk, voice weighted with reverence and depth: touches tender and almost… devout.

As for him, the monster hiding under her bed (or, hiding under the face of her lover in this moment), who knew what he thought of her?

But in this fleeting moment, she felt… loved. She felt seen. And so she closed her eyes and continued the fairytale.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Since their first night together, Tav and the Emperor have fallen into a routine together. Perhaps it is genuine lust for the being who was only conjured to seduce and tempt her, or perhaps she has fallen in genuine love with the beast beneath. But for now, at least, Tav has been summoned back into the Astral Prism, that her protector might pay his toll for her loyalty and subservience.

Too bad for Tav that she was always a sucker for a man in armour…

When they would crash into one another like a powerful wave hitting the shoreline, she could run her hands up and down his torso… up his strong neck, through his tousled locks… and almost imagine that she was cradling that gallant knight in resplendent armour.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

[[Perhaps you would prefer my… other form?]] He’d asked, the first night they shared. The night in which he’d come to her, having abandoned his usual armour. She had been peering through his tentacles, and trying to find a mouth she could plunge her tongue into… Treating him too much like a human being. She’d only seen those sharp rows of teeth, reminiscent of a shark’s maw — and her mind could only conjure unsettling visions of them rending through her skin and tissue asunder. He seemed to sense her confusion and… perhaps, her revulsion. [[It might be more familiar for you to navigate.]]

She had found some solace in that. He was far from human: his digits too foreign, head too alien. Mind flayers hailed from realms beyond, she recalled reading, and now she understood it. As she gazed into the dim glow of his amethyst eyes, shimmering admist the ethereal haze of the astral plane, she sensed a stark absence of… emotion. In that suspended moment — airborne with him — the undeniable reality struck her. He is not human. And maybe that was visually obvious. But even down to his very core: he had been human, once, but now the man he’d been was gone. Far, far, far gone.

He was no gallant knight astride a noble steed, asking her to “let down your hair!”. He was an eldritch horror, asking her to claim for him a crown.

She felt the air beneath her feet and felt her lungs empty of breath.

No, he was no dashing knight. He was a beast. A horror.

And yet, as she looked into those eyes, she could see the knight she had dreamed of before the honour guards’ attack.

With a breath that quivered in the astral air and words that lingered with a profound weight, she finally answered. “Yes, please.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

And the monster was gone. Leaving behind a figure straight from the pages of her cherished novels. Even now, a few weeks into their strange… arrangement, he remained an amalgamation of every man she had ever found attractive; every feature she had ever held in admiration. A canvas painted with strokes stolen from her memories of desire, adoration, and affection. A hauntingly beautiful visage, embodiment of divinity and boundless allure, that seemed… beyond reach. Unattainable. As though her very touch - a touch from such a mortal, limited, and imperfect being, might somehow sully this wondrous creation.

Perched atop him, her thighs astride his large form, she delicately combed her fingers through his hair. Soft: a texture akin to the finest cashmere. Or silk. Even his very touch - even the texture of his hair - was tailored to her preferences. Her nails glided over his scalp, his long tresses billowing out beneath him: cascading like a lush flowerbed onto the astral ground.

He gazed up at her through his eyelashes. A sight designed to bring forth tenderness only elicited a wry smirk from her. Every single eyelash, every strand of hair upon his head, he had meticulously crafted solely for her pleasure.

This was their dance. It was the toll the beast paid, every other night, for her continued loyalty.

She felt his hands distinctly, their presence acute as they nestled in the curve of her waist, fingers tenderly resting on her hips. They glided along the gentle dip of her abdomen; reverently over the dip of fat protecting her womb. And the thought conjured lustful images in her mind, images that he must have felt, of this perfect knight filling her womb with a child… a child made from them. (Images she cast aside as quickly as they had come. And she told herself this was love for the knight and not the beast underneath. Definitely not. Could they even have a child together?) His hands traced the contours of her body, embracing every curve and contour; every rise of fat or lean muscle….

“Is there any part of your body that is not perfect?” She asked, her fingers trailing from his scalp down to his face, and her thumb finding its way to rest beneath his chiselled jawline.

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied with a sly smirk, voice weighted with reverence and depth: touches tender and almost… devout.

Her lips tightened in displeasure. She knew the truth. You don’t mean that. She had seen his true face. And his ilk felt no sexuality: no earthly desires, neither love nor lust. He was as incapable of loving her as he was of lusting for her. The beast beneath was indulging her lust, not out of affection, but to better unsheathe his prized sword when she would be needed.

But here, in this moment, there was no monster. There was only her knight in shining armour, the one who had rescued her from her tower and carried her across his shoulder. The one she had prayed for in the darkness of her childhood: a good man. An honourable man, kind with even kinder eyes, hair gleaming like the first light of dawn, and eyes a starry night sky. A man who could only exist in the realm of fiction: somebody who loved her, who cherished even her greatest flaws and still regarded her as perfection. Whose touches were more befitting a priest to his holy book.

As for him, the monster hiding under her bed (or, hiding under the face of her lover in this moment), who knew what he thought of her? As he stood now, in the centuries (or however long it was) after ceremorphosis, he was a being beyond her comprehension, transcending the limits of human understanding. Could he even feel, she wondered? And if he did, what did he feel for her?

But in this fleeting moment, she felt… loved. She felt seen. And so she closed her eyes and continued the fairytale.

He had vanquished the dragon and ascended her tower… He told her she was safe now and carried her to refuge… And when they found solace, she had eagerly stripped him of his armour, tearing it away like a predator rending tendons from its captured prey. She initiated it, and he had desired it, not out of base lust like a man with lowly urges, but as an act of love. Because he loved her.

Because he was a man from fiction, and therefore a good and honourable man.

In a world marred by darkness and horror, where virtuous men were often punished and rejected for their good deeds - she could find sanctuary in his warm and stable embrace. She could pretend they were together because of love: because she loved him, and he loved her back. Their connection wasn’t imposed by fate; here, he was not a necessary evil but a well-deserved sanctuary.

His purple silken garb draped over his broad chest, exposing one of his breasts, and she cupped it like a precious delicacy.

They met eyes, and she could unmistakably feel his arousal rising beneath her.

“I love you,” she sighed into the crook of his neck, bestowing kisses onto the skin there.

He smiled kindly.

She guided herself onto him: a position that usually took the reins, but even in her position of control, he remained in charge. (And she told herself that it was not the creature lurking beneath, with his insatiable hunger for control even in her fantasies, but simply the manifestation of safety. She didn’t have to bear responsibility; here, she could let go and be secure.)

His strong arms enveloped her, drawing her closer, and every thrust was perfectly timed and aligned, hitting her just right in the way she’d wanted. (It was not the creature reading her thoughts, desires, and expectations, she told herself. It was the man, who was remarkably experienced and skillful. Yes, that was the one.)

His large hands continued their reverent exploration of her form, cradling her with unwavering stability as their rhythmic dance persisted.

“I love you,” he murmured gently back to her, his voice an oasis of serenity amidst the fervent urgency of their union. His voice was too calm and settled despite his desperate and starved thrusting.

But here, at least, when she had coaxed the creature under his disguise, she felt safe. At least with him under this face, she did.

—

hope you guys enjoyed feel free to tell me if you did and any thoughts on this and also requests (im kind of open to them rn)

also please word vomit at me about the emperor I LOVE HIM!!!! HE IS A CUTIE!!!

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #bg3 emperor #the emperor #bg3 the emperor #bg3 mindflayer #mindflayer #tav #bg3 tav #bg3 tav x emperor #tav x emperor #emperor x tav #the emperor bg3

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bubblefina · 1 year

Text

No Puppet Strings Attached 4

Summary: When Katsuragi brings a puppet back to Tatarasuna, saying that he found him wandering the shores, the village and blade smiths took him in as their own. Something about the puppet struck a young girl's heart. Despite him not having a heart of his own, the puppet felt something that would seem to be impossible for someone like him to feel.

Pairings: Scaramouche x f!reader

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Often in this world, strangers tend to meet on different paths of their life. Unlikely that they will stay with each other, but they will remember each other. Through their eyes, they reminisce of what once was. That is the truth of this world, no one knows the meaning of love, but they can feel it.

Niwa had already told her about the boy being a puppet. She had known before they kissed, but it didn’t stop her from pursuing him any less. They of course went home after their kiss, but the next day there was no need to go out and think about what happened, they just went to each other.

Y/n always visits the smithy, but never with this big of a smile on her face. Not even her brother saw her smile this brightly, it's as if she was reborn.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” Niwa asks.

“Nothing, I’m not here to see you silly. I’m here to see…you” she kisses Kabukimonos cheek, which makes the rest of the blade smiths jaws drop. They were flabbergasted at the sudden affection she had shown the boy, mainly because she didn’t show that kind of affection to anyone.

“I’ll bring over some of the tea you like during your break, so don’t get too full, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll look forward to it.”

Ignoring the questions that were thrown at them, y/n gave a quick peck on the boy's lips, which just makes the surrounding air that much more heavy.

“You…you!” Katsuragi stares and watches.

Y/n giggles and walks out of the smithy. The blade smiths stopped what they were doing and crowded around the boy.

“And what happened between the two of you?” Niwa asks.

“It’s as you’ve said Niwa, I’m just as human as everyone else.” a small wink was aimed towards Niwa, who immediately got the message.

“You sly dog,” Niwa wraps his arm around the boy, “So it’s official then? Both you and my sister are together.”

“When did this happen?!” the other blade smiths said in union.

“A few nights ago.” He replied.

“And you sound so nonchalant about it, too.” Katsuragi says.

“I guess the initial shock of it is gone, perhaps I lost myself in this feeling without even being aware of it.” The boy stops and stares at his reflection in the sword.

“And what feeling is that?” One of the blade smiths asks.

“It’s love.” Niwa answers for the boy, a soft smile on his face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Have you ever felt as if the world had become brighter? The flowers bloomed more often, the sun felt warmer, the wind felt as if it swept through your soul. That’s what love felt like to both Y/n and Kabukimono.

They spent every other passing moment with each other, to the point where the boy was a frequent visitor for dinner. Niwa had gotten used to having him around at home, but one thing he could not accept was allowing y/n and the boy to be alone in her room. Perhaps it was just him being an older brother, but he forbade it unless the door was open.

It didn’t bother y/n too much, because she could just go somewhere else. It wasn’t that they wanted to do something perverted with each other, but just bask in some private time.

Their favorite place was a little green area surrounded by flowers and trees. They’d go there at least once a week and just lay down to admire their surroundings, and of course each other.

Y/n took the liberty of laying herself on the boy's lap, it turned into one of her favorite things. He’d take the time to pluck flowers from the ground and decorate her hair with them. Carefully tying the stems of the flowers around each lock of hair.

“I feel bad for taking the flowers out every night, you put so much effort into placing them into my hair.” she says, sulking.

“No worries, if the flowers run out here, we’ll have the rest of the world's flowers to use.”

“Hm, now that you say it. A flower from each nation would be nice now wouldn’t it.”

“You would put the flowers to shame, they would already enhance the beauty you possess.”

“You…shush!” she begins to act flustered, which he found adorable.

During moments like this, he leans in closer to give a peck on her lips, just to see her flustered more. Her usual reaction is to hide her face behind her hands, refusing to remove them unless he stopped laughing, which he did, eventually.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Another one of their newly found interests was music. When Y/n was out harvesting things, she’d hum a tune, which eventually caught on with Kabukimono. So whenever she’d start humming the tune, he’d synchronize his whistling with the song she hummed.

She of course joined in, now whistling with him. They’d do it whenever to let the other person know that they were close by. The other villagers eventually caught on with them, eventually naming the tune “the ballad of lovers”.

“Did you hear both of them going at it again?” one of the villagers says.

“You mean that whistling the both of them do? Of course, it's quite catchy if you ask me.”

“It’s more of a mating call if you ask me.”

“Mating calls or not, the both of them…never a dull moment between either of them.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Not all days were happy. There were rumors of the nobushi now growing in numbers, the villagers began to worry if they’d invade the village. The anxious feelings spread throughout the village, to the point where the elders told the residents to not stray too far from the village itself.

This meant that neither y/n nor the boy could go to the special spot that they both loved so much. During the village meetings, when the elders spoke of the nobushi getting closer and closer, looking as if they were to plan an invasion, y/n gripped onto the boy's hand tightly.

During the last nobushi invasion, both her and Niwa’s parents were killed. She was still fairly young, shielded from the sight of seeing her slaughtered parents in their home, but Niwa had witnessed it all. He vowed that he’d protect his sister no matter what, and he intends to keep that promise.

The boy caressed her hand that shook with anxiety with his thumb, reassuring her that everything will be alright. He might not have the strength or power of the other men, but he too would do his best to protect her to the best of his abilities.

The next few nights were calmer, no movement spotted from the nobushi, so the villagers moved on with their daily chores. It wasn’t until a foggy early morning that things seemed eerily quiet.

Normal activities were occurring, but a few select people stopped what they were doing, then the village became completely silent.

It stayed like that for a few moments until an arrow was shot out from the fog, hitting nothing but a wooden pole.

“We’re under attack!” one of the men roared.

The villagers scattered, the women, children and elderly all ran to safe areas designated for the villagers who weren’t fit to fight. In the midst of the running, Niwa had grabbed hold of y/n, telling her to stay with the rest of the villagers who were running for safety.

She was reluctant to go, not wanting to lose another family member, but he promised her that he would come back. With a heavy heart, she fled. Niwa had also found the boy, who was handing out swords and other weapons to the men who were ready to fight.

“I need you to go with the group who’s staying at the safe house.” Niwa says to him.

“But why?”

“I need someone there with y/n, someone I can trust. If something happens to me, I need you to be there with her, can you do that for me?”

“Niwa…if she loses you, she will be crushed. I’m not even sure I can console her if that were to happen.”

“I’ll do my best to make it back, but I need someone there with her.”

With no hesitation, the boy left for the safe house. The rest of the men stayed behind and did their best to ward off the nobushi, who came in hefty numbers. Luckily the villagers knew their village the best, all the best ambush spots, where to set traps. The fighting went on for not too long before the nobushi knew that they were outmatched.

The kairagi within the group managed to do great damage before they retreated. Not even they could last forever on their own. The group of bandits was smaller, so eventually they’d grow tired and weak. Before taking a chance to surrender, they dispersed as quickly as they came.

A few men went back to the safe house and retrieved the group of people who remained out of the fight. They were just as disheartened to see what came of their village. There was damage all around.

“We barely managed to recover from the winter, now this?” One of the older men complained.

Most people rushed back to their homes to see if anything had been stolen or damaged. Others scurried around the village, trying to scavenge anything that was left of the food supply. By the time y/n had made her way out, she immediately ran to find her brother, embracing him when she finally spotted him.

Tears spilled out of her eyes, relief overwhelming her. Niwa held onto her tightly, tears threatening to leave his eyes all the same. He held them back, wanting to be strong for his family.

“Are you hurt?” she asks.

“Not much, I was more on the defensive side. The frontmen are being taken care of right now, or are about to.”

The boy appears from the crowd, looking worried. Niwa ushers him over and embraces him for a hug as well.

“Thank you for looking after her,” Niwa whispers in his ear, “I’m glad you’re safe too.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

A few hours after the attack, y/n found herself at the spot where she and kabukimono spent most of their time. The flowers, the trees, the grass…everything had been burned to bits.

There wasn’t a sliver of life left within it. Y/n fell to her knees when she saw it. The boy put his hand on her shoulder to console her.

“No need to worry, they will regrow.” he says, swiping his thumb along her cheek.

“I know they will, but…it hurts looking at this. We made so many memories here, and now everything is so bleak.”

“The damage is horrible, and it will take a long time until the trees grow and flowers bloom once more.”

Noticing the now more gloomy look on her face, the boy tilts her chin upward and kisses her lips.

“But I’m sure the next time this area is filled with life again, it will be full of even better memories.”

Y/n nods her head, resting her face against the boy's shoulder. Both of them sat at the very top of the hill, looking down at the scorched field. They may have lost the flowers and serenity of their favorite place, but they still had each other.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Months had passed as the village continued to try to get back onto its feet. The nobushi had seemed to leave the village alone, as they were nowhere in sight. Most likely traveled to another beach and set up camp there.

The other villagers didn’t seem to care, as long as the nobushi didn’t bother them, they didn’t care where they went.

The weapon forgery was also hit hard. Since many of the blade smiths were injured during the raid, work was slow. Making and selling weapons was one of the village's main source of commerce, and without the manpower to continue such a task, many orders, and commissions fell behind.

The blade smiths who were able to work became fatigued from not getting any breaks. They themselves still had injuries, but were still required to go to the smithy and continue to work.

It went on like this for what seems like forever, but on one peculiar day. A man with white hair, dressed in red, visited the village. From the look on his face, anyone could tell he wasn’t an Inazuma native.

He introduced himself as Escher, from Fontaine, and he has the perfect solution for the smithy’s smelting and weapon crafting problem.

#Genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche imagine #wanderer #wanderer x reader #fatui #harbinger

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likesunsetorange · 3 months

Note

https://x.com/llumi_ii/status/1749483411385827672?s=46&t=6gibj1UxMbLn0YGDvwIicw

OUR PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED

bodyguard au drabble # 3

OMG YES I SAW!!!! that’s literally so her i love it so much this mirror palais collection is so bodyguard au mikasa!!! and lia really blesses us with mikasa in the cutest outfits, i always look forward to her art when she posts 😭🩷

i'm sorry this took so long to reply to but i really wanted to write something for this, so i hope you enjoy!!! :)

also slight nsfw warning? lol!

While they weren’t necessarily sharing a mutual dislike for one another anymore, they weren’t necessarily friends either. But Eren also wouldn’t say they weren’t not friends either—it was complicated, but it wasn’t—he was her bodyguard whom she happened to live with, but there was something a bit more there—or at least he thought.

In the weeks since they had come to a truce of the sorts, they had developed a routine of the sorts. He would accompany her on her daily errands (as he was supposed to), but she welcomed his company rather than Mikasa feeling as if Eren was an unwanted presence. It was almost as if they were spending time together rather than Eren doing his job. Even when she spent hours trying on clothes, or trying to choose between (what Eren deemed was the same) lace ribbons, he found himself with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Once they were back at her house, they would disperse amongst themselves until later in the evening when they would often cook together or watch whatever movie Mikasa picked for them.

The peace within the house was nice, and he found himself appreciating the little things a bit more. When she wasn’t busy throwing insults at him or criticizing every little thing he did, she was actually quite sweet. It was ironic to Eren how a lot of her personality was reminiscent of that first initial encounter—before she drugged him—leading Eren to believe maybe all of it hadn't been as much of an act as he had initially thought.

Today, much like any other day, after a day of various errands and a shower, Eren found himself preoccupied in the kitchen, but rather than cooking dinner like he usually would, he made himself a bowl of cereal, much to what he would assume would be Mikasa’s displeasure. Mikasa had him running around the entirety of the city, somehow managing to go through multiple burroughs (which he didn't even think was possible in NYC) for all of her menial errands, and he couldn't be bothered to make anything, so cereal would have to do.

He had made it through his second bowl of cereal when he heard Mikasa's voice on the phone, approaching. Her figure came into view, her hair damp and clinging to her back and her bangs pinned out of her face with little heart clips. She was wearing one of the many pair of pajamas she owned, today, these ones pink with little red hearts.

There weren't many things Eren allowed himself to indulge in when it came to Mikasa—he tried to keep those thoughts few and far between. But there was one thing that would plague his mind from time to time, no matter how hard he tried. It came in bouts of small moments when he was reminded that at the end of the day, he was a man living with an objectively attractive female who paid no mind to his presence, prancing around her house like she still lived alone.

It came in the form of Mikasa and her abundance of exquisitely crafted satin and silk pajamas—something that to the normal person, was seemingly harmless. Initially, it was. Eren found himself a bit endeared by her seemingly neverending collection, almost looking forward to which pair she'd wear every night—some patterned, some solid, some adorned with little embellishments or details of different fabrics.

But then, for reasons unbeknownst to him, the seemingly cute matching button-up shirts and pants turned into tiny shorts and slip shirts. So the thoughts that Eren tried not to allow cross his mind, ran rampant. When her clothes highlighted the curves of her body, accentuating every dip and crevice, leaving little to his imagination, and the dusking of her nipples against the smooth satin (since Mikasa refused to turn off the AC despite always being cold), it was hard for Eren to think anything but unholy things.

His mind ventured to places of how her skin would feel against his, if her sweet demeanor was applicable elsewhere, and if her smart mouth was good for other things too. And surely Mikasa, who at one point Eren had been sure was Satan incarnate, wasn't all that innocent either—with her sultry looks and sly touches—which only fueled his thoughts further. But Eren allowed these to only exist in his brain in brief glimpses, and would quickly tuck them back into the deepest crevices of his brain where they belonged—for the sake of his sanity and his pride. He would resume his gaze from her very nicely crafted body to her equally pretty face, pretending that he hadn't just imagined multiple ways he wanted to fuck her.

When Mikasa's gaze finally met Eren's he made it a point to keep his eyes on her face, which is exactly how he noticed her face turn from her usual blank expression to a pout as she hung up the phone to whoever she was talking to.

"Are you... eating cereal?" She asked as she walked toward him.

Eren raised a brow quizzically, "Yes, is that an issue?"

"Oh," she huffed, her pout only intensifiying. "Well, what am I gonna eat? You already ate—we normally make something together."

Eren shrugged nonchalantly, knowing she could order takeout like usual when she didn't feel like making something. But it was obvious what the actual problem was—Eren was a bit too oblivious to realize—she just wanted to spend time with Eren.

Eren knew he would probably make her something, always giving in to her, but now that they were a bit more amicable, he enjoyed his fair share of riling her up to compensate for the months of borderline verbal abuse she put him through.

"Last time I checked, I was your bodyguard, not your personal chef," he replied blankly, but the faintest hint of a smile gave way to his teasing.

"You know, sometimes I think I liked it better when you didn't talk to me," her voice dripping with the attitude that Eren had been accustomed to at one point. She glared at him as she walked past him towads the fridge, Eren stopping her before she could make it all the way.

He tugged lightly on the bottom of her shirt, Mikasa swatting as his hand in response. "Mikasa, I was kidding. What did you want?"

"I don't want anything—I can make it myself," she responded, crossing her arms. She glared down at where he sat on her bar stool, Eren trying to maintain his gaze at her face and not her body, which he was at eye level with. He found himself particularly enamored with these little heart pajamas—finding them endearing, but also for the little slivers of skin they showed—but not only could he give Mikasa the satisfaction in knowing that, he couldn't allow it for his own pride.

"Why are you like this? You're a brat sometimes, you know that?"

"And you're annoying," she bit back, but despite her snarky remarks, she seemingly admit defeat, taking a seat, nonetheless.

Eren released a pained sigh as he stood up, knowing he only contributed to her behavior, being the one to constantly indulge in her. He took off his sweatshirt, leaving him in just his t-shirt , not wanting to get it dirty. He almost threw it into the chair before he had half the mind to shove it over Mikasa's head, Mikasa face shocked as he helped her put it on (not bothering to care whether she had wanted to or not), his sweatshirt almost swallowing her tiny frame whole.

"Here, I can see you shivering," he said dully, though he knew it was only an excuse for his own sanity's sake.

"Oh, thanks," she replied, her cheeks flushing the tiniest tinge of pink. "And thanks for making me something to eat, Eren," she added a few moments later as Eren turned on the stove.

"Yea, yea. It's my job, right?" A smile on his face as he rolled his eyes playfully.

And as he sat there a while later, watching Mikasa happily eat the grilled cheese he made her, a smile on her face, while adorned in one of his random sweatshirts, he realized he had royally fucked himself. If he thought seeing her in her clothes did something to him, seeing her in his clothes—combined with her long inky hair splayed across her shoulders, a rare sight to see; the same doe-eyed face that had got him that night just months ago; and her rare but sickeningly sweet personality, that made his heart do a double take—was only so much worse.

#bodyguard au #asks #vic’s drabbles #i had almost finished and then my app crashed and i wanted to kay em es i wont lie lol but luckily half was saved as a draft lol but i was #committed so i retyped the rest again the things i do for eremika. i was fighting demons to post this the demons being myself lol #sometimes im like am i putting these in the fic? idk LOL these might just be tumblr only scenes based off our collective discussions/hcs lo #anyways eren is so down bad for his little boss

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yuriko-mukami · 10 months

Text

The Eternal Flame and Blood

The Wedding Ceremony at Kozima Inari Shrine, April 23rd 2023

Yuriko had visited this pavilion only once; when she and Ruki had checked out the place with her great-grandfather, Kozima Kenjo, a few weeks ago. Yet, now it looked totally different in her eyes. The red of the pillars was brighter and the wooden floor sang under her feet as they walked toward the altar table on which were spread out three sake cups, a candle, a bowl, and a piece of paper along with two tiny boxes.

Even with the ancient court music playing in the background, Yuriko could hear the shrine maidens and masters, and guests behind them, but there was no way she could have peeked around with her wedding cap that blocked everything other than the front view.

Which was a good thing. For Yuriko would have probably fainted if she had seen the faces of everyone right now.

Had the air been this heavy during the last visit? Yuriko couldn’t tell. Her heart was bouncing faster with each step. Was it possible to mess up your own wedding? The ceremony would have so many different parts, and with some of them, she would need to use her kitsune skills accordingly. Of course, she had practiced, but would that be enough? She couldn’t fail Ruki now, not on this important day of their lives.

As the couple stopped in front of the table, Yuriko tried her best to smile at the man before them. Looked like he was in his fifties, but she knew he was about 200 years older. Kenjo nodded to his white-haired head with red strikes to his great-granddaughter and her fiancé.

Fiancé. Soon-to-be husband. Yuriko played with the words in her head.

Kenjo’s face was unreadable. Yuriko remembered their first meeting clearly. Never had she thought she would have living relatives in Kaminashi City until her brother Yuuto had told her. Now, she had gotten back her great-grandparents but also three cousins who would be attending the wedding too.

For Yuriko, Kenjo seemed like a father figure. Gentle and wise but a bit old-fashioned and tired of the world. But today the man had straightened his spine, wearing the priest outfit and radiating the aura of authority around him. As Yuriko reminisced about the past months she realized that the man had already spoken the welcoming words. Blinking, she tried to focus. No time to linger with the past, since this was the definitive moment for Ruki and her.

Clearing his throat, Kenjo began to speak, not to the couple but to someone else. Yet, this was not a surprise, because Yuriko had witnessed the same thing also at Yuuto’s wedding with Nalia. Kenjo’s words echoed in the pavilion with a strong, almost magical vibe that captured Yuriko’s attention once and for all.

“...your blessing for this couple on this day. They wish to join their hearts along with the flame and blood under your blessing arms.”

A brief wind brushed through the pavilion, making the corners of the tablecloth dance as a tall figure appeared behind Kenjo. Not quite visible and still very much so with hair longer it was possible to imagine and kimono with a complex embroilment on it. The being was ethereal and their presence filled every corner of the room, slithering its way into Yuriko’s very heart as well. She couldn’t help but bow her head in front of this divine being who honored her wedding by appearing.

It would have been possible that the kami wouldn’t have shown up, for all the vampires we have here… The corners of Yuriko’s mouth curled up. The kami’s presence was a good omen for the wedding, right?

There were rustling and quiet gasps behind the couple. Again, Yuriko couldn’t peek but she could easily guess that not everyone in the room would be used to the otherworldly energy that filled the space. She wasn’t either but at least she had experienced this a few times already.

Squeezing Ruki’s hand, Yuriko tried to steady her jumping heart but kept her gaze on the kami.

“For my child has come with her loved one beside her, wishing to join their hearts, I give my blessing to them.” The kami’s words vibrated in the air… or maybe they spoke directly into everyone��s minds. Yuriko honestly couldn’t say but she knew it wasn’t only her ears that received the message.

“With this, the bond between a Kitsune and a Vampire is strong. Her flame will burn brightly for both of them, and their shared blood will tie them together,” Kenjo continued with a smile. As the kami faded invisible without losing the feel of presence, he kept talking. “For confirming the blessing, the bride and groom will now drink the blessed sake that ties their destinies together.”

Behind Kenjo, a shrine maiden arrived, carrying a sake bottle. The room stayed quiet as she poured the liquid into one cup only, handing it to Ruki with a bow. While Ruki sipped three times, Yuriko curled her fingers against her palms and opened them again. A way too soon, it was her turn.

One cup, three sips. As simple as that, yet Yuriko almost couldn’t stop her hands from trembling. It took a while before she was able to lift the cup on her lips and take the sips. The soft taste of the alcohol embraced her tongue, sending a sense of security and peace through her cells. Suddenly it was easier to breathe as if the sake had magically soothed her heart and mind.

Two more times the same was repeated. Each time, Yuriko felt how warmth spread through her, swaying her into mushiness that eased the tenseness from her muscles and made her spirit sparkle. The love she had gathered in her heart was growing more still, filling her from the tip of her head to her tiny toes.

“The couple has been blessed with the sake too. It’s time for the candle and blood. With them, the tie between the couple will last forever.” Yuriko had difficulties keeping at the pace of Kenjo’s words, but the meaning sank slowly into her head. “Please, rise.”

With slightly shaky legs, Yuriko stood up and turned to look at the table and the candle that was waiting for her. But even though she could feel the inner quivering, at the same time she was oddly calm as she reached her hands and took the candle between her palms, placing in it front of her chest.

Closing her eyes, Yuriko breathed steadily. She had practiced this, melting several candles in the kitchen of the Mukami manor until she had finally mastered the right amount of heat and the correct size of the flame.

Seeking her inner fox, Yuriko focused. Tingling ran through her body but she let it be, for she wished for something else. The fire that seared in her very being. Calling it towards her hands, Yuriko opened her eyes. Pushing all her concentration into her palms she guided the tiny flaring into the candle, to its heart. With a sizzling sound, it kindled as the blue-shaded flame appeared.

Bless our marriage and give us happiness. I’m sharing my soul with the love of my life and wish to grant him bliss and stay by his side as long as I’ll walk on this earth. With her prayer, Yuriko lifted her gaze and met the eyes that always caught her in their storm. Yet this time the storm had settled and clouds sailed away, revealing the ocean-deep glimmering blue.

Holding out the candle, Yuriko waited. Would Ruki accept it and show his willingness for this union?

But was that really a question? Yuriko already knew Ruki wouldn’t leave her, no matter what. He had made it very clear many times, starting with the day when Yuriko had finally agreed to give him her blood without fighting back.

And without a sign of hesitation, Ruki accepted the candle. He moved it to the candle holder on the table, bowing together with Yuriko right after.

“Ahem… And now follows the final part of the heart-tying ritual.” Yuriko noticed a slight edge of Kenjo’s voice. It had also been there when she had talked about the wedding with her great-grandparents. While they both had finally come to accept her reasoning, they probably weren’t happy with her decision.

But this was something unnegotiable. The marriage with a Vampire couldn’t start without the ritual made for them. So, without questioning it, Yuriko had agreed to add this part to the Kitsune ritual… even though it had stirred trouble with the family.

Ruki nodded at Kenjo before taking Yuriko’s hand. He lifted her arm, pushing the kimono sleeve down at the same time. For once, there weren’t any bite marks on the skin that was revealed. Yuriko was probably more unblemished than she had been in the whole past year.

Picking up the bowl from the table, Ruki smiled. Yuriko locked her gaze with his as he raised her wrist to his mouth, sinking his fangs through her skin ever-so-gently. Even with such a careful bite, Yuriko gasped slightly. The pain was not unfamiliar, for the very same fangs had pierced her over and over again, but this time the pleasure that followed was painted also with a bliss of knowing how important that bite was for the rest of their lives.

My blood…

Ruki turned Yuriko’s arm a little, letting the blood drip into the bowl. Just a few seconds later, he licked over the fresh wound, closing it but leaving the mark of their bond. Yuriko couldn’t help her shivering as she felt the cool tongue sliding over her skin before Ruki handed the bowl to her.

Now it was the time for the other task Yuriko had practiced over and over again. Yet doing this in front of everyone, made her tremble inwardly. She closed her eyes, focusing on her center.

Teeth… She needed to allow her fox teeth to surface.

Calling again her inner fox, Yuriko concentrated. Only the teeth, nothing else. Focusing… focusing… She could feel a slight ache in her mouth. Her canines stretched and sharpened slowly until they were beastly enough to break through thick vampire skin. She opened her eyes, taking Ruki’s arm and lifting it. She moved his sleeve aside, revealing the skin she had never dared to bite like this.

There was the first time for everything. This would be the first, the last and the most important bite mark Yuriko would ever leave on Ruki’s skin.

Warmth ran up Yuriko’s cheeks when she laid her lips on the cool skin, feeling how Ruki tensed. Slowly she opened her mouth and touched the barely visible vein with the tips of her canines. She could hear all too clearly the gripe of skin breaking as she sank her teeth through. Metallic stickiness hit her tongue, numbing everything else for a moment.

His blood…

The liquid of undead life rushed into Yuriko’s mouth. Hastily, she pulled back and set the bowl under the gash, letting the blood drip into it before the wound closed itself, the bite mark slowly disappearing. Yuriko let Ruki’s wrist go and held the bowl in front of her heart, lifting her gaze and meeting unreadable ocean eyes.

Ruki settled his hands over Yuriko’s, frowning as it was his turn to focus. Like he couldn’t have lit the candle for them, Yuriko wasn’t able to use vampiric magic that set the blood on fire. As the black flames started to dance in the bowl, her heart jumped. Ruki had done it!

I’ve never actually drunk blood… Yuriko eyed the bowl. Their combined doze of the life’s elixir looked almost black now and wafted an odd scent of the Vampire and the Kitsune to her nose. Ruki lifted the bowl as they held it together and pushed it toward her. There was only one way to go; Yuriko parted her lips, allowing the blood to flow into her mouth.

Warm. Sticky. Metallic. Not truly tasty at all.

But Yuriko swallowed every drop that met her tongue without complaints, licking even the last driblets from her lips as shivers speeded down her spine.

The taste didn’t leave Yuriko’s mouth but she raised the bowl now for Ruki, pouring the other half of the mixed blood onto his tongue. His eyes narrowed for a moment in distaste. But he said nothing and swallowed. The tip of his tongue glided over his lips in a manner that was familiar to Yuriko. How many times she had witnessed this gesture already?

It mattered not.

Something sparkled in Yuriko. The blood settled in her, giving her a part of Ruki, binding them together even stronger than before. Yuriko wasn’t able to see it but it was almost like she could feel how the red thread of fate grew from her heart towards Ruki, tying them both with an everlasting bond.

Yuriko lowered the bowl to the table.

The sake. The candle. The blood.

Three bonds for the three parts of them: human, Kitsune, and Vampire. All that tied into a knot that probably even the kami couldn’t pull apart anymore.

As if knowing Yuriko’s thoughts, Kenjo coughed. “The bride and groom have now tied their hearts with the sake, flame, and blood. Now, it’s time for the vow.”

Ruki nodded, picking up the paper on the table, staying silent for a moment.

“On this great day, before the Okami, we are sincerely thankful for this ceremony. Going forward, we will love each other, trust one another, share the good times and the bad, and swear that this will stay unchanged throughout our lifetime. In Kaminashi City year 2023 April 23rd.” Ruki’s voice was clear and steady as he looked at Yuriko. “Husband.”

“Wife.” Yuriko smiled.

Returning Yuriko’s affection, Ruki put the paper back on the table. A shrine maiden stepped closer, handing two branches with green leaves to the couple. Taking the branch assigned to her, Yuriko lifted it in front of her head and leaned her forehead on it.

Let us have a happy life and see many times to come and go. Let us walk together endlessly and love each other eternally. Yuriko put the branch on the table and bowed at the same time as Ruki, wondering if he had said his prayers too. She knew he didn’t believe in these matters but with a kami standing in the same space with them… Perhaps, perhaps even Ruki had to believe in that. Yuriko clapped her hands twice and bowed again, hearing Ruki doing the same.

“And now, the couple will continue with their personal vows,” Kenjo said.

Were Ruki’s hands trembling? Maybe Yuriko imagined it since she could feel the quivering raising in her again as their gazes connected and Ruki linked their fingers, his thumbs rubbing her knuckles.

“Yuriko, my angel. A few days ago you said something to me that made me think. Something that makes me see things differently. It took me a while to understand the deeper meaning of your words. But now everything is so clear…” Ruki squeezed Yuriko’s hands slightly. “Before we met, I was a stubborn iceberg whose immortal life had no meaning or significance. Unable to harbor any romantic feelings, I wandered around like a ghost. Plagued by boredom, hoping to kill some time by reading, I forced myself into the school library on that fateful day. Again and again, I went through each shelf. At first, it looked as if there would be nothing suitable for me there. Disappointed and lost in thoughts, I stared at the spines of books. But then I suddenly found it.”

Ruki stopped for a moment and swallowed. “The book that completely captivated me. That book changed everything. The book that gave my life meaning and significance.” He grinned with a tiny chuckle. “Heh, this book literally stumbled into me.”

With a serious look in his eyes again, Ruki continued to speak. “Blinded by my dark past, I couldn't initially see the beauty of this masterpiece. Only the intoxicating fragrance of the fragile-looking tome caught my attention. Curious, I decided to give this piece of writing a chance, opened it, and began to read. I discovered that the story wasn't complete. Empty pages that wanted to be written jumped at me. Over and over again I stared at the blank paper and wondered what was missing here…” He took a deep breath. “While I was doing this, I unwantedly got into unpleasant situations that made me constantly lose my composure. Never before had anything like this happened to me. And never before had I questioned myself over a seemingly meaningless nothingness. Though it was neither nothingness nor meaningless.”

Again, Ruki swallowed, making Yuriko repeat the gesture.

“It took me a while to understand. When I finally opened my eyes and looked properly, I could suddenly see everything clearly. This book was the story of my life and it had just begun.” Ruki offered a smile. “Together with you, I will write on the blank pages and tell my story—”

Shaking his head, Ruki took a moment before continuing. “No. Our story.” He cleared his throat. “Yuriko, this book, this precious treasure... It is you. Without a doubt, my favorite. My great love. My fate.”

A silence. Ruki closed his eyes for a moment, then blinked, yet Yuriko was still able to see the glimmering in his eyes. She couldn’t help but flutter her eyes as the corners of her eyes began to burn at the same time as her lips curled into a smile.

“I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat. Would I breathe and my heart beat, those would be the words I'd utter every time I drown in your eyes.” Once more, Ruki’s Adam’s apple went up and down. “Existence, after losing her, would be hell. You are the air I need to breathe. Without you, I'm suffocating. I can no longer imagine my life without you.”

Letting go of one of Yuriko’s hands, Ruki wiped the tears. “You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought. You are my light in the dark. The one who saved me. To me, you are the most precious existence of anyone or anything.” Pausing for a little while, Ruki blinked. “You are my very own Yuriko.” He took her both hands again and smiled. “I vow to make you happy. I vow to work on myself and to be the husband you deserve. I vow to love you unconditionally and cherish you. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, I vow that I will stay by your side.”

Squeezing Yuriko’s hands, Ruki quoted: “Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.” He made another pause to wipe away the tears. “No matter what... My love for you will never change. Let's be together all times and live by each other's side. Let's fill the blank pages of the book together.” He brushed Yuriko’s cheek. “Yuriko. It was you. From the very first moment. And it was and will always be you. My very own. Forever. I love you, my angel. From the bottom of my heart.”

The silence lingered in the ceremony room for a while as Yuriko gathered herself. She linked her fingers in between Ruki’s, locking her gaze with his. She had practiced these words already so many times, yet she couldn’t completely hide the trembling in her voice.

“Ruki… I… I… when we met, I didn’t imagine this moment. My days were dark, I was running in a labyrinth without a way out. Honestly, I don’t even know if I was looking for one anymore. More than living my life, I seek another from the realm of literature. And then I stumbled on you.” Gasping slightly, Yuriko took a moment before she could continue. “I can’t say our beginning was easy. It wasn’t a soft and sparkling story, nothing like sweet romances but something almost ominous. Yet… the first time in ages, I was needed by someone. Even if it had been only because of my blood, I knew that it was better than being ignored, a forgotten tool in the back of the toolbox. Even just for that, I was ready to take your offer.”

Squeezing with her fingers, Yuriko leaned a bit closer. If only she could have written her wow as well as Ruki had done but she wasn’t that skillful with choosing the right words.

“But you promised me the new world and your love,” Yuriko continued. “Slowly, by pulling me into your darkness you showed me the light. Or perhaps… we found it together. It was always in you, deeply hidden, but still there. It might be that it was in me as well, buried down with shadows of my heart. How I see it… we needed each other to kindle that light once more.” Hot rivulets ran down Yuriko’s cheeks but she didn’t bother to fight them. “And ever since that flame of our light has only grown stronger. I can see it whenever I look into your eyes. I can feel it every time you take my hand in yours. With every gaze, every touch, every spoken word pull our hearts closer and there are times when I don’t know where I end and you begin. That will be even truer from this day on, for today we have tied our hearts and destinies with an eternal bond of flame and blood.”

Yuriko bored her gaze into the storm of Ruki’s eyes. “With this tie, I belong to you in every possible way, I’ve become fully yours and wish nothing more than to stay like this. For you changed everything and showed me the true meaning of love. Ruki, you set me free. Finally, I can be who I was always supposed to be. With you.”

Shifting a little, Yuriko cleared her throat. “I wish to love and support you always. In good or worse, in rain and shine, no matter what the world offers us, I wish to face it together with you. For you are the piece that made me complete.” She leaned in and lifted her hands, touching Ruki’s cheeks and wiping his tears away before retaking his hands. “Ruki, I am forever yours. I love you. With the flame of tenderness and searing passion. Eternally.”

When Yuriko stopped talking, Ruki’s hands left hers only to reach for her face. The cold fingertips slid on her cheeks as he tried to dry the tears, yet glimmering was already pooling in his eyes too.

“Yuriko…” Ruki coughed. “And I am yours. Forever. Let’s keep the flame burning together.” He smiled. “Our eternal flame.”

“Our eternal flame.” A mere quivering whisper but it didn’t matter for Yuriko knew Ruki was able to hear her words.

Ruki caressed Yuriko’s cheekbones with his thumbs for a little while before reaching for a tiny pillow. Faint light sparkled from the white gold and diamond that was placed between two lilies. “This ring has no beginning and no end. No matter how many times you spin it, it's endless. Like my love for you. I will give you this ring as a sign of my affection and devotion to you.” He took Yuriko’s hand in his and slowly pushed the piece of jewelry on her finger. “My very own wife.”

“Your very own…” Yuriko picked up another ring. “Umh... as you said... The ring has no end or beginning. It is eternal and endless. We are different, very much so... but we are also the same. So, my love for you is also endless. And I will give this ring to you as a sign of my promise, my wishes, and my devotion to you.”

Taking Ruki’s hand, Yuriko pushed the simple white gold ring on his finger. “The love of my life. My husband.” Still holding him, Yuriko smiled until a cough poked her ears, making her cheeks flare. Hastily, she turned together with Ruki, bowing to end this part of the ceremony.

“Congratulations.” Yuriko’s great-grandfather offered the couple a tiny smile. “You have now tied your hearts alongside the flame and blood. Now, we all shall drink the sacred sake to bless this matrimony again.”

“Thank you, Kozima-sama.” Ruki’s words made Yuriko glance at him since they weren’t supposed to talk right now. “I sincerely apologize for the following rudeness. But I have to do this…”

Ruki turned his eyes to Yuriko. The storm was gone and replaced with something Yuriko could only call the blue flame that burned deep within her.

“My angel…” Ruki cupped Yuriko’s cheeks and leaned in. As his lips met hers, she gasped against them. She curled her fingers around his wrists, holding him while catching his bottom lip into a tender smooch. She could hear distant wheezing but also clapping, all the sounds that didn’t belong at this moment, yet they fit perfectly.

“That’s the fuckin’ spirit!”

“Ruki! You wolf!”

“Ruki… just broke… the rules… for real…”

“Cool! I said he is cool!” Yuriko’s cousin’s voice bounced through the air on top of everyone else. “Ouch! Don’t kick me, Toshi-nii!”

Not minding the reaction of the others in the least, Ruki brushed Yuriko’s cheeks while enjoying the moment. His fangs grazed her soft petals, not breaking them, only teasing sweetly.

“I love you.” A vibrating whisper stumbled on Yuriko’s tongue from Ruki’s lips, making her giggle.

“And I love you.” She finally let his wrist go at the same moment he released her from this tormenting prison of smooching. Yet, she wished to be imprisoned right in this instant again.

“We can continue.” Ruki chuckled, gazing at Yuriko’s great-grandfather again. As Yuriko peeked at the man she couldn’t tell if he was mad or impressed. With a stiff nod, he went on as if nothing at all had just happened but the rest of the ceremony blurred in Yuriko’s mind for she was hazy from the kiss, from the sake… from everything else. Perhaps from the simple fact that now she truly was fully Ruki’s.

Eternally.

The edit is made by me with help from @eri-talks. Thank you so much!

The story is based on a private wedding RP with @ruki-mukami-dl. Gosh, that was such a beautiful day. I cried a lot, and now again when I read this final time before publishing it. Thank you, honey, for this wonderful and meaningful moment. I will never forget it.

#ruki mukami #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fanfic #yuriko mukami #diabolik oc #rukiko #rukiko wedding #ruki mukami dl #rukiko arts

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