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i-try-to-write-stuff · 3 years

Text

Secrets Chapter 17

Lily, the nanny Steve hired came to visit. You chatted with her, wanting to know her experience as a nanny, after satisfactory responses to all of your questions, you left Mattie with Lily and Rebecca. The old room that you shared with Steve before you left had been unrecognizable. The paint, the furniture had been changed.

It looked pretty depressing.

Steve’s absence at the airport had fueled the suspicion that you were about to witness that nothing had changed in the marriage you had left behind. By hiring Lily, Steve had shown that only his opinion mattered and you did not like the feeling of being made an unnecessary accessory in your child’s life.

You went for a shower and went to the dressing room to get clothes. It was a shock to open the closets and find all your old clothes and brand new clothes as well, all of the clothing in your size. Your clothes looked tattered in comparison. Obviously, Steve had ordered you a brand new wardrobe.

Maybe he hated how you dressed and bought new dresses, or maybe he was embarrassed by your dressing sense.

You changed into a blue dress before going to check on Mattie. He was playing happily in the bath with his rubber duckies while Lily watched over him. Lily told you that Mattie had already eaten his evening meal and you returned to the bedroom.

You opened the door and froze. Steve was removing his tie. His tailored suit looked crumpled and almost dusty, his hair disheveled, and a dark shadow of stubble gracing his face. He still looked hot and sexy.

As you studied him, your body reacting with treacherous enthusiasm even as your pride rejected those earthy responses, hot, heady anger

threatened to consume you entirely .

‘I told Gina we would dine alone next door tonight. Give me ten minutes for a shower,’ Steve told you, his eyes roaming down your body, and he was not subtle about it. How in the hell can he still make you feel hot and bothered ……

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You’re too stunning to ignore,’ he told you mischievously.

You were fighting to hang onto your irritation. You didn’t need a mirror to tell you were in a Steve’s magnetic trance...

‘I am such an idiot! Why did I think this time around would be different…that you would make an effort for your kid’ you shouted.

‘What are you talking about?’ Steve demanded. You were blocking out and refusing to respond to the electric atmosphere.

‘I came here a few hours ago. I was confronted by your mother before I even saw you again? Obviously, it never occurred to you that you should have been here for me!’

‘I left a message with my mother for you. You didn’t receive it?’ Steve prompted.

‘Your mother hates me, Steve. Do you really think she would take the trouble to give me a message?’ you fired back at him.

‘I am sorry, it was an oversight on my part,’ he said sincerely.

That cool and reserved response made you so livid, you tried to remain quiet.

‘I hate you when you treat me like this!’ you hissed.

You never wanted to be back here, you hated this gloomy place, yet here you were again, you were moments away from killing Steve, the sole reason for your stay here was Mattie, otherwise you would have never even looked at this place.

‘You don’t hate me.’ he told you.

‘And how do you know that? I couldn’t stand you when I walked out on you and our marriage,’

Steve moved towards you and you backed into the bedroom.

‘But why? Because I found out about your affair with Rick? Or was that because I asked you to explain what happened to all that money?’

‘I left you because you wouldn’t believe anything I said,’ you responded, but Steve frowned darkly.

‘I’m hungry. I want to have some food. I don’t want to get into an argument right now.’

A bolt of rage shot through you.

‘Steve…there’s never a right time with you. Look at what you did to us and our marriage and stop blaming me for everything that went wrong’

‘We should leave the past where it belongs, behind us.’

‘You don’t get to say that to me when all you do throw everything I did back at me!’ you hissed.

Steve groaned out loud.

‘Tell me then’

‘You forced me to live under the same roof as your mother’

‘This place is very large.’

‘It’s not that simple. Donna hates me and she made my life miserable the last time I was here. What did do to stop her?’ you condemned fiercely.

‘How did she make your life miserable?’ Steve said in tone of disbelief.

‘I was treated like a guest, no fuck that, I was treated like an uninvited tenant, if I asked any of the staff to do anything they had to run it by your mother first because she insisted that all requests go through her.’

‘I never got anything I wanted, I could not do a simple redecoration of our room without her saying no and I found that mortifying. She criticized everything I ever did, refused to speak to me unless she was snidely commenting about every flaw that I have when you weren’t there, and insulted me to my face in front of visitors. Ask your sister.’

‘I will check it out.’

‘Great, just fucking great, you can’t take my word on that either?’

‘What else?’ Steve inquired.

‘It’s your fault that I fell pregnant with Mattie and I hated it!’ you shouted.

Steve looked puzzled.

‘You hated that you were pregnant?’ he looked hurt.

‘I did…… when I first discovered that I was pregnant. You were supposed to be responsible, you knew that birth control pills don’t agree with me, but you chose to be careless with protection and I paid the price for it. We had only been married a few months and I was still young and unprepared. I didn’t feel ready for a baby and being constantly sick while I was carrying him didn’t help. It made me feel more trapped than ever but you didn’t understand how I felt, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t, but then again you didn’t tell me, I knew that you were miserable but I thought that was because you were sick.’ Steve countered.

‘And Mattie is not a mistake, he is the most precious gift,’ Steve added angrily.

Your eyes teared up.

‘I didn’t mean that he was a mistake…’

‘Then what did you mean?’ Steve condemned.

‘There you go again…you always think the worst of me’ you accused him,

‘No, I don’t.’ Steve grabbed your shoulders in a sudden movement and pulled you against his body.

‘It’s hard for me to understand how you can love Mattie and still regret the pregnancy.’ he murmured in your hair

You welcomed the warmth he offered.

‘I don’t regret it anymore.’ You replied.

‘You are still accusing me of moment’s forgetfulness we both had.’ He added begrudgingly as he kissed your hair, familiarizing himself with your scent once again..

The atmosphere changed from confrontational to electric,

You could feel your blood pounding, heart racing, and the pull of his body. He lowered his head and kissed you fiercely, his lips taking your breath away. You were not even aware of the moan you let out.

He kissed you until your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. You were left breathless, hot, and bothered no longer thinking straight. You became a puddle of hormones in his embrace, pure carnal desire that was all that you could feel.

You felt him tear your dress in desperation.

You felt it sliding down your body. Steve lifted you, you kicked off the shoes as you both dropped on the bed. Pure desire and hunger were driving you crazy.

‘We shouldn’t,’ you told him weakly, as you stroked his lips with your thumb.

‘Do you want me stop...? because I am in no mood to play games tonight’ Steve said huskily.

You were shocked...

‘What do you mean…?’

Tag List-

@austynparksandpizza

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@electraphyng

@kenequa

#steve rogers x woc!reader #steve rogers x desi!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x desi reader #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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asupernaturalgirl · 3 years

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Engaged to Be Wed - Part 2

Daryl x Reader

Summary: The reader is now engaged to Daryl Dixon and couldn’t be more excited. It’s always been her dream to get married and she’s always had the perfect idea about what she wanted with her wedding, however, the apocalypse raging around her makes things a little more difficult.

A/N: I know some of you all are going to be excited about this one. I’m continuing the series and I hope you all like it! Each part with feature one part of the wedding process. Enjoy!

Warnings: none! Just a good amount of fluff

...

Who knew it would be so difficult to plan a wedding during the zombie apocalypse?

You definitely didn’t.

There were some no-brainers. Father Gabriel would marry the two of you. He immediately agreed as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Maggie agreed to be your maid of honor almost before you could even mention the words to her. As soon as she had heard you and Daryl had been engaged, she was knocking down your door offering herself to you.

The harder parts were the ones where you had to selectively choose what was and wasn’t important. Some traditions were impossible due to the fact that the majority of the world was currently dead and society had collapsed, but others were just impractical. There wouldn’t be music or dancing, no large cake, no honeymoon, no registry.

The hardest part was choosing whether or not to get a dress. You would wear something no matter what, even if it was just a simple dress, but the child in you wanted something bigger, something that made you actually feel like a bride. The danger of going out to find that dress was what was keeping you away. Was a wedding dress worth putting lives at risk? No. At least not in your mind.

There was also other work to do as usual. Alexandria relied on everyone making an equal effort into continuing work for the better of the group. You couldn’t just drop all of your work in order to plan a wedding that didn’t mean anything to anyone except you and Daryl.

You sat at the breakfast table, writing in your notebook. Daryl walked in, pouring himself a glass of water before shoveling some powdered eggs into a plate of his own.

“What are ya doing today?” He asked, taking a sip of the water.

You placed down your pen and began to eat your eggs now that Daryl had sat down with you. This was one way you were able to stay so close to him while you were so busy. The two of you had designated specific times throughout the day that were for you to connect unless there was some sort of emergency. “I don’t know yet. Someone told me yesterday they needed some help in the pantry. You had a pretty big run yesterday, didn’t you?”

He nodded quickly. “Brought a small car and could barely fit everything in there.”

You raised your brows. It was rare they would find a place with that much food left these days, but you thanked god for the times when they actually did. Watching Daryl leave those gates always left you feeling so helpless and anxious, knowing fully well what could go wrong out there. The fact that they had been so successful made you feel a bit better.

“Are you going on another one today?”

He shook his head. “No, Glenn and Maggie wanted to go. I think they just want to get away from everyone for a little bit. Don’t blame them.”

While runs were dangerous, the feeling of freedom sometimes outweighed the risk. It gave you a chance to actually do some of the things you wanted to do, rather than what everyone else needed you to do.

“Did you ask Rick about….” Daryl started.

“Not yet. I’m going to do it right after breakfast,” You stood up, bringing your plate with you to clean. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” He chuckled slightly and gave you a kiss before leaving the room himself to get ready for the work he would do today.

…

Rick was always happy to see you. Judith sat on your lap as Daryl poured you a cup of herbal tea that had been freshly dried. He purposefully made it weak to save the leaves, but it was always better than just plain water.

You played peekaboo with the toddler in your arms as you waited for Rick to sit down next to you. She giggled loudly every time you would scare her. Her laughs filling the room ended up making you laugh as well. Her father smiled as he walked in the room, loving the fact that his daughter had so much support in the group.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Y/N?” He questioned, finally taking a seat beside you.

You nervously set Judith down, motioning for her to go off and play with her toys. You clasped your hands in front of you, trying to build up the courage to finally ask him the question that had been on your mind since Daryl had asked you to marry him. “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

Rick’s eyes softened immediately, a joyful expression crossing his face. He smiled widely. You were surprised to see the small tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “Of course I will, Y/N. I would want nothing more than to walk you down that aisle. I see you as one of my daughters anyway.”

Your heart warmed at his confession. Rick meant everything to you. He gave you advice, he offered you comfort, he protected you when needed. He was the definition of a father figure and you wouldn’t give him up for the world. “It probably won’t be the typical sense of an aisle...and I’m not actually sure how large-”

He immediately cut you off from your rambling, shaking his hand to stop you. “I’m honored to do it. No matter what. I don’t care if there’s no aisle or if it’s just you, Daryl, and Father Gabriel. I will hand you off to Daryl.”

You brought your hands to your heart first and then pulled him in for a tight hug. He patted your back. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’ve grown so much through the years. You deserve to be happy with Daryl.”

“Thank you.”

…

You tiredly walked back from the pantry. Daryl really did get a bunch on the run yesterday. There were buckets filled to the brim with canned good and everything had to be stacked on the right shelf, in the right order. It took you over 10 hours to actually get everything done.

You passed Daryl on the way back home. He was assisting some of the other Alexandrians in repairing a few solar panels. He was nifty, although this wasn’t his expertise. It took him longer than expected, but he told you he’d be home as soon as he could.

As the house the two of you shared came into view, you were surprised to see Glenn and Maggie sitting on the porch swing, a large box at their feet. When they saw you coming, they jumped up, greeting you happily.

“We wanted to go on a run today to try to find you a dress,” Maggie explained, pointing to the box. “After we got the necessary stuff, we found an old bridal shop and picked out a few things. We didn’t want you to have to wear just any old dress on your wedding day.”

This was more than you could have ever expected. Never in your life would you think your friends would risk their lives to find you something for your wedding. You brought your hand on your mouth in shock, looking down at the box. “Thank you.”

“Let’s go try them on,” Maggie said excitedly, pulling your arm inside.

Glenn had left Maggie behind, deciding this was probably an activity best suited for two best friends. Maggie clapped her hands as you walked out in the first dress. It was a tea party style. If it had been a day ago, this would have been your dream dress, but since you had more options now, you were more willing to say no.

As you placed the next one on, you gasped while looking in the mirror. Tears sprung to your eyes. This was the one. It was long, but still practical. This is the one you’d dreamed about as a kid. When you told Daryl about what you had imagined, this was exactly it.

Maggie’s eyes lit up as soon as you exited the room. “That looks absolutely beautiful on you, Y/N.”

You looked back at the mirror, moving around slightly so you could see it from every angle. “This is the one. I love it.”

…

Daryl walked in the bedroom, letting out a loud sigh. He was tired, you could immediately tell. You placed the book you were reading down beside you and waited for him to join you. “How was work?”

He gave a signature Daryl grunt, obviously not wanting to talk about the difficulties of fixing solar panels. He stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers and climbed in next to you while you scooted over to give him more room. You gently ran your fingers along his scalp, playing with his hair just slightly. He would never admit to you that he loved it, but you knew he did. Usually if he didn’t like something, he would squirm away or tell you to stop, but when you messed with his hair, he leaned closer and closed his eyes.

Eventually he laid back and brought you close into his arms. “Glenn and Maggie brought me back some wedding dresses.”

He seemed to already know as a smile crossed his face. Of course he knew. They probably told him that was where they were planning on going during the run. “Did you find something you liked?”

“I found something I loved,” The picture of the dress in your mind made you feel giddy once again. It was rare that you got that feeling these days. “I cried when I put it on.”

“When do I get ta see it?”

“On the wedding day, you dummy.”

Daryl let out a knowing chuckle and ran his hand along your face, gently caressing your nose, cheeks, and lips. He leaned in closer and kissed you softly, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. “You’re gonna look so damn beautiful, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do with myself.”

You kissed him back, deepening it. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you almost on top of him. You pushed the hair out of his eyes as you pulled back. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #one shots #one shot #imagines #The Walking Dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead one shots

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tinydooms · 3 years

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Oh, and Rick and Jonathan, "pub"?

So I changed this to “bar” because I didn’t have an internet connection when I was trying to remember which prompts I’d received, but I think it works all the same:

One Night In Cairo

Cairo, October 1922

Thievery was not the plan of the evening when Jonathan went out that fateful night. He only wanted to get a little jazzed after a stressful and frankly disappointing dig down at the Valley of the Kings. Ordinarily Jonathan enjoyed going on digs; they had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, but this one had been ridiculous from the start, run by an egomaniacal amateur with more money than sense and with an entirely incompetant team of inexperienced posh boys. After only a fortnight in this difficult company, Jonathan had cut his losses and quit, taking the first train back to Cairo. It would have been easy enough to get onto another dig down in Luxor, but the thought of staying put didn’t sit well and so here he was, back in Cairo, turned up at Evie’s little Fort Brydon flat like some kind of prodigal son and feeling just as wretched. Hence, booze.

It hadn’t always been like this, Jonathan thought glumly, sliding onto a stool in a not-quite-seedy bar at the edge of Old Cairo. Before the War he had loved excavation, taking his time cleaning artefacts on his parents’ digs, more than happy to muck in and unearth history. Even after the War, settling down at a table of ancient odds and ends had been immensely soothing. But now that his parents were gone, lost two years ago when their plane went down over the Red Sea, everything had changed. Jonathan had been knocked sideways by their loss. Without his parents there, the horrors of the War were creeping back and it was getting steadily more difficult to focus on work. And Jonathan wanted to work; it was the only thing that brought him peace. But he couldn’t.

Jonathan ordered a double whiskey and knocked it back. The alcohol warmed him; that was better. He ordered another and leaned his elbows on the bar, looking around.

The bar, though just this side of reputable, was teeming with Europeans, all of them probably on the prowl for the kind of run-down place containing mysterious sheiks and veiled maidens and romantic heroes that they read about in the pulps. Rich idiots like Dickie Fanshaw over there mixed with the supposedly lower orders. One of those sat just down the bar from Jonathan, a tall man with overlong brown hair and a glum face who leaned on his arm, spinning something between his fingers, refilling his glass from the bottle of vodka on the counter beside him. He looked as lost as Jonathan felt.

Dickie Fanshaw wasn’t lost. He and his friends were already well-sozzled, though it wasn’t that late in the evening, and were singing school songs at the tops of their voices, uncaring of what the other patrons thought. Some things never changed. Jonathan had known Fanshaw at Oxford; the man was a git. The big man beside Jonathan gave them an irritated glace and poured himself more vodka. Jonathan snorted.

“Bloody tourists, eh?” he said, and the man smiled without humor, a barring of the teeth.

“Yeah,” he said in an American accent, and knocked back his drink. “Assholes.”

“Quite.”

As Jonathan watched, the American spun his toy around again, letting it whirl to a rattling stop on the countertop. Something about it caught Jonathan’s eye. It was a strange trinket, obviously an antiquity, probably New Kingdom by the look of it: a hexagonal box with the cartouche of Seti I engraved on the top, and various symbols around its sides. Jonathan looked over its owner again.

He was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered with a two-day beard, wearing clothes that were old and worn, but had once been of good quality. His tan bespoke of a lifetime out of doors. Some kind of laborer? No, that had been a decent suit when it was new. Sensing Jonathan’s eyes on him, the man looked over with a scowl that didn’t quite hide the misery in his eyes.

“Interesting trinket, that,” Jonathan said, nodding at the little box. “Carnahan,” he added, holding out his hand.

The American raised an eyebrow, but shook. “O’Connell.”

“Are you in the antiquities business, Mr. O’Connell?”

“Not since the War,” the other man said, knocking back another shot of vodka. The bottle was empty; how he was still upright and looking sober was beyond Jonathan. He’d have been unconscious by now.

“Ah.”

So here was another veteran. Not surprising, really; Egypt was full of them. Jonathan raised his finger at the bartender and ordered them a round of drinks. Maybe he could get this bloke to sell him the thing. Evie would like it and maybe it was worth something.

“You were with the American Army?” Jonathan asked when the drinks arrived.

O’Connell shook his head. “Foreign Legion.”

Well, that was terrifying. Everyone knew the French Foreign Legion to be full of cutthroats and brigands, more rigorously trained than any other fighting force in existence.

“That’s where you found that thing?” He nodded at the box again.

O’Connell palmed it off the counter and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “You could say that.”

Not much of a talker, this one. Hm. Jonathan drank more whiskey; the room was beginning to be pleasantly hazy. O’Connell ordered himself another round of vodka and slumped against the counter.

“Fuck,” he said to no one in particular.

“Amen,” Jonathan agreed.

“Fucking War. Stupid, stupid, stupid thing.” O’Connell ran a shaking hand over his face and Jonathan realized that he was well and truly three sheets to the wind. Maybe it would be easy to buy that thing off of the American. Jonathan was only a little tipsy in comparison.

“I say,” he began, and then a lot of things happened at once.

Dickie Fanshaw swaggered up to the bar, calling out for more whiskey. None too sober himself, he stumbled and knocked into O’Connell, spilling the big man’s drink over themselves. O’Connell snarled, shaking vodka from his hands. Fanshaw looked him up and down.

“You bloody idiot,” he said. “How dare you trip me?”

O’Connell raised an eyebrow. “You knocked into me.”

“Don’t be absurd; an Englishman never trips. What do you have to say for yourself, you ignorant lout?”

“Fuck off,” O’Connell said, turning away.

Jonathan snorted into his glass; Fanshaw was a first-class bully and certainly no one had ever dared speak to him like this. For a moment he was speechless with outrage. Then, grabbing O’Connell’s arm, he tried to drag the American from his chair.

“What did you say to me?” he shouted. “What did you say, you great lummox?!”

O’Connell shook him off like a dog with a rabbit. “I said,” he replied, his voice loud and succinct, “fuck off!”

Two of Dickie’s henchmen arrived, standing behind him, waiting to see what they should do. Jonathan drained his glass and sat back, rather enjoying the show. Whatever happened, it was going to be good.

“How dare you speak to your better in such a way,” Fanshaw said, oozing disdain. “I ought to beat you for that.”

O’Connell rose to his feet, slow and dangerous. He stood a head taller than Fanshaw. “You’re welcome to try,” he said.

Fanshaw, unused to being challenged, fell back a step. Unwilling, however, to give ground and with his friends waiting to see what he would do, he curled his lip at O’Connell.

“Look at this great fool, gentlemen,” he said to his friends, “he probably learned this disrespect from his whore of a mother.”

Jonathan felt his jaw drop; that was low even for Dickie, and it was definitely the wrong thing to say. O’Connell’s face crumpled in on itself in rage; in a fluid movement he raised his fist and punched Fanshaw in the face, sending him flying into a nearby table.

“Say that again,” he said, “I dare you.”

In the split second before Fanshaw’s friends jumped at him and the brawl started in earnest, Jonathan slid off his bench and brushed past them, heading to the door. As much as he wanted to see Fanshaw’s arse handed back to him, he wanted to do it from a safe place. And besides, now he didn’t have to spend any money on O’Connell’s trinket. The American hadn’t even noticed it being taken from his pocket.

Fanshaw was screeching, blood streaming from his nose, and his friends were charging O’Connell, who started swearing and throwing them. A table smashed, then another, patrons scattering and the barkeep yelling. From his post by the door, Jonathan cheered O’Connell on, weaving a little with whiskey and bloodlust. Fanshaw had often said rude things about Jonathan’s mother, too, but Jonathan had never quite had the courage to do anything about it.

It was not a fair fight; three against one, but O’Connell didn’t seem to be having much trouble. He swung his fists, screaming, hurling Englishmen around. With a tinkling of glass, Fanshaw went out through the window.

“Serves you right!” Jonathan shouted at him as Fanshaw sat up, groaning.

But it was time to go: police whistles cut through the night, and Jonathan had no intention of getting caught up by them.

“Police!” he shouted into the bar (O’Connell deserved a fair warning) and walked away from the building.

A street away, Jonathan paused under a gas lamp to look at the trinket he’d swiped from O’Connell. Maybe he was drunker than he’d thought, but he couldn’t read the hieroglyphs. Best get it to Evie. Jonathan walked off into the night, never thinking for a moment what he was about to unleash.

#asks #prompts #my fanfics #Rick O'Connell #Jonathan Carnahan

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p-artsypants · 5 years

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Rage Awakened (9)

This chapter was going to be significantly longer, so I decided to cut it in half to get it out sooner.

@chachacharlieco @violetstar-writes

FF.net | Ao3

Saying that Sora was uncomfortable would be an understatement. He was wearing borrowed clothes from Ventus; a red jumper with a white short sleeved jacket over it. Sora continued to tug at the puffy pant legs for some relief, but to no avail. The outfit was just a little too small. His undershorts rode up his backside, and people kept slapping his hand away when he tried to pick at it. Not to mention, his sock was falling down in his too-big shoe. He was pretty sure the jumper was picked specifically so he couldn’t drop trou when he finally got fed up with wearing clothes.

“Red suits you,” Kairi had said when she noticed his discomfort. It had helped, but only slightly.

Currently, they were in the courtyard, having just arrived with the borrowed gummi ship, which they would continue to hold onto until Sora earned his keyblade armor.

He looked around briefly, finding solace in the greenery, no matter how manicured it was.

Then there were brooms. Walking brooms. Living brooms. He stared in shock. It was like something out of a dream, or a far off memory.

He followed the others through the castle, as they were escorted to a banquet hall. A large table was set with all sorts of dishes and silverware, heaps of food and decorations. And there were people talking loudly and quickly. He could barely make out the conversations. Frightened, he stood behind Kairi and tried to hide.

“Sora!” A high pitched voice called out to him.

Still nervous, Sora glanced over to where the voice was coming from, only to find a small creature with huge round ears. He stared in confusion.

“Gosh, you sure did grow up! You remember me though, don’tcha?”

Sora’s memory was good, but very selective. He could recall events and faces, but not names or places. This person, he knew. He was certain he did. One that he never wanted to forget.

But the name was just on the tip of his tongue.

There was something about this place that brought a song to his head. And he began to hum it slowly. And then…”M-I-C-K-E-Y…M-O-U-S-E!”

“That’s me! Mickey Mouse! Master Eraqus said you can’t remember a lot of words right now. That’s okay! You’re safe here, okay?”

He wanted to believe that was true, but it was all just so overwhelming and different. So instead of responding, he just stayed quiet.

Kairi however, thanked Mickey for his concern, and then rested a warm hand on Sora’s arm. “You can trust Mickey. He’s a friend, just like Kairi.”

If Kairi trusted him, then it must have been okay.

He was then re-introduced to two more friends from his past. A duck and a dog.

“Gawrsh Sora, We sure missed you! How’ya been?” Said Goofy.

“Still getting into trouble?” Asked Donald, though it was mostly unintelligible.

Sora thought for a moment, and then parroted Donald perfectly, blowing air out his cheeks to replicate the quacking sound. “Still getting into trouble?”

Those assembled, besides Donald, burst into laughter.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!” Donald quacked indignantly.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!” Again, Sora parroted him, finding it easier to copy Donald than to copy anyone else.

Kairi, still giggling, said, “I don’t think he’s the best person to copy if you want to relearn how to speak.”

“Oh c’mon Kairi, it’s funny as balls!” Ventus choked, as he continued laughing himself silly.

“I don’t think it’s funny at all!” Donald shrieked, hands on his hips.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘imitation is the best form of flattery?’”

“Aw, phooey.”

“Aw phooey.”

“Knock it off!”

When it was time for dinner, Sora was ushered to sit between Kairi and Riku, though he kept his hands under the table, afraid to touch anything. He sat quietly as everyone talked, catching up on all that had happened in the last week. Though most of the conversation was lost on him.

“Wow, Sora! You lived in a tree?” Asked Daisy.

Sora glanced over to Kairi for help, but she urged him on.

“Y-yes…” he nodded. “Big…big tree.”

“That’s amazing! What did you do when it rained?”

He waved his hands over his head. “Leaves…lots. Stay dry.”

“Oh I see! What kind of tree was it?”

He frowned, perturbed to have to repeat himself. “Big tree.”

She simply laughed, and the conversation moved onward.

More brooms arrived, with carts of trays of food. Sora could smell it, and buzzed in his seat with excitement.

But, King Mickey stood on his chair and raised a glass. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Everyone took their glass and raised it as well, including Sora who looked around to make sure he was doing it right.

“To you, the keyblade wielders. For all your hard work this last year. We still have much work to do in order to defeat Maleficent and banish the darkness, but thanks to your efforts, no more worlds will be lost. And that is an incredible accomplishment. On behalf of all the worlds I visited, thank you. And, I’d also like to welcome home: Sora. Someone very important to our cause whom we’ve missed dearly all these years. To us!”

“To us!” The group sang together.

Sora watched as everyone clinked their glasses together in celebration, and then decided it was safe to do the same. Without warning, he slammed his glass into Riku’s, shattering both of them.

Sora yelped out in fear at the sound and Riku’s recoil, and then began to cry.

“It’s alright!” Mickey packed quickly. “Accidents happen!”

A pair of brooms were quick to clean up the mess and get new glasses for the boys. Sora, still feeling ashamed, sat on his hands and refused to touch anything, even when the food was presented.

The assembled dug in, not noticing Sora’s plight until Kairi spoke up. “You okay?”

He said nothing, but stared at his plate and licked his lips.

Rick nudged him, getting his attention. Then he took a fork in his fist, and brought it down to stick into a piece of broccoli. “See? Easy.”

Sora grabbed his fork, just like Riku showed him, and went to stab an olive. It rolled away, and he struck again and again, missing continually, until he stabbed right through the plate with a crack. He moaned in frustration, pushed away from the table and laid on the floor.

“Aw, gee Sora, there’s no reason to be upset.” Said Goofy. “Why, I think you’re doing’ just fine! I break plates all the time!”

This was of some comfort, and Sora returned to his seat, as the brooms cleaned up his dinner. He wasn’t that hungry anymore, but another serving was placed in front of him.

Again, Riku nudged him. When Sora looked over, he made a great show of setting his silverware down. Then he scooped up some mashed potatoes in his hand and ate it.

Kairi saw, and did the same with a handful of peas.

One by one, those around the table switched from fine dining, to eating like toddlers. Sora was immensely thankful, and dug into his own food.

After dinner, the group retired to the library.

“I just want to thank you guys again for all your hard work,” Mickey said as they got comfortable among the couches.

“Your Majesty, it wasn’t that hard. Sure, there were days that actually felt like we were struggling and doing work, but other days sort of felt like a vacation.” Said Terra.

“Yeah,” agreed Ventus, “it was cool to travel all over the place.”

Mickey smiled, “well, I’m glad you guys had fun out there too. Most people your age aren’t fighting to survive everyday, and some go without ever being in a fight at all! So, a thanks is required.” Then he stepped over to his desk. “Now, I have a favor to ask. I have the royal Chronicler here, and I would like to document everything you guys can recall from your travels. Facts about the worlds, people you encountered, everything and anything you can think of. I know it’s a lot, and we won’t get through it today, but it’s a start.”

“I wrote down everything I did in a notebook,” said Kairi. “It’s back at the Land of Departure, but I can bring it next time.”

“Great!”

“Where is the Chronicler?” Asked Terra.

“Over here!” Called a voice from on top of the desk. “Cricket’s the name, Jiminy Cricket at your service!”

Sora was particularly interested in him, coming close to the desk to stare at him. He’d never seen a talking cricket before.

“I’m very fast at taking notes, so you all can take turns sharing stories, and I’ll record it all!”

“Terra, let’s go first.” Urged Aqua. “After all, we were the first ones to see Maleficent in The Underworld.”

“Right, so let’s start there. Are you ready Jiminy?”

As they began their story, Mickey nudged Riku. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Come with me.” He beckoned to the door.

In the hall, the two travelled next door to Mickey’s private study. A small room, with much fewer books. There was a desk with two chairs in front of it, both occupied. A desk lamp was on, as well as a fire in the fireplace. Overall, the room may have been much more cozy than the library, but tonight, it just felt dark.

Perhaps it was the presence of two very powerful individuals that made the room feel forbidding.

“Oh, Master Yen Sid, Ansem the Wise. I didn’t know you were here.” Riku said as Mickey closed the door.

“I’m sorry we were unable to greet you sooner. We took dinner here in the study, as there is much to discuss.” Answered Ansem.

“About what? And why only me?”

Yen Sid stood, offering his seat. “Because, there is a traitor in our midst, and you are the only one we can trust at this time.”

That was startling. “Me? Only me? What about Kairi! There’s no way—“

“Kairi is not a Master, so she will not be burdened with this information.”

“I...I guess...but I still find it hard to believe that Terra, Aqua, or Ventus could be traitors...”

“They are not suspects either.”

Riku frowned, now thoroughly confused. “Perhaps you should explain everything to me...”

#kingdom hearts #fanfiction #kh #sora #kairi #riku #donald duck #goofy #Mickey Mouse #aqua #terra #ventus #rage awakened #tarzan au #feral!sora

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gainerstories · 7 years

Text

Some Twinks Like Twinkies: Chapter 3

Click here to read prior chapters

"Don't forget: Happy Hour @ The General's after work today" read the chain email.

Dylan was reluctant to go out with his coworkers but Jared insisted it would be a good time. He had no choice but to follow suit and rationalized that at the very least some beer and happy hour food would do his belly good. Ever since moving in with Jared gaining weight dominated his entire thought process. He felt fatter ever week which kept his libido livelier than when he was a horny eighteen year old.

It was almost five o’clock and Dylan had finished his work for the day. There was nothing left for him to do at the office, but he lingered around to meet everyone for happy hour. With nothing to focus on, his mind drifted to food and he decided to go to the kitchen to see if any snacks were available. When he walked in, Jared was already seated at the break table chomping down on a wide slice of cherry pie. Dylan felt a hunger pang.

"Great guts think alike," said Jared with a wink. "Come grab a slice cutie."

Dylan plopped his ass down and cut a slice of pie that rivaled Jared's in size. He shoveled it down in a few bites and then licked the every inch of the remaining syrupy goo off the plate.

"Fuck, I'm getting a boner watching that appetite of yours," Jared whispered. "Can't wait to fill you up with beer and pizza before I get you in my bed tonight."

Cathy, a coworker, barged in and exclaimed: "There you boys are! It's happy hour time! Hope there’s some room left in those bellies."

Six people, including Dylan and Jared, made it to the bar. They sat around a circular table on tall stools that were uncomfortable for everyone, but Jared was particularly struggling. His ass noticeably poured over the sides of the stool leaving him feeling like a boulder balanced on a small stick. These seats were not designed for fat men. Dylan, unable to resist Jared’s juicy bottom, covertly fondled a handful of ass fat. Dylan ordered an IPA and some chili cheese fries and Jared followed suit.

"You boys are wasting no time!" Exclaimed Rick, one of their beer bellied coworkers.

"You gotta have a base to soak up the alcohol, right?" Dylan laughed.

"That sorta mentality and you'll be joining Jared and I in the spare tire club in no time," Rick responded.

"I think he's well on his way," Jared smirked and gave Dylan a pat on the stomach.

Dylan blushed and tried to conceal the fact that his cock was growing stiffer by the second.

"These office jobs will do it to yah," Rick said and gave his gut a solid slap creating a riptide effect underneath his shirt. "I was a size 30 waist when I started here, if you can believe that. Needless to say,” he placed both hands on his ball belly and gave it a jiggle, “that wardrobe is a thing of the past. Jared, if I'm not mistaking you were a fit guy too when you started."

“Whoa there!” Exclaimed Cathy. “Hope my body isn’t next up for discussion.”

“I’m just saying, the man clearly likes to eat,” said Rick.

"I can’t argue with that one!” Said Jared. “Now, I wouldn't say I was fit... but yeah, sitting on my ass all day has definitely led to... well, a bigger ass to say the least!"

"You know, I've been eating salads religiously since I started here," chimed in Monique, a slim woman and the youngest in the group. "I'm trying to steer clear of exactly what y'all are describing."

"Smart," said Cathy before changing the subject. "So tell me, what area of town is everybody is in?"

They went around the table and everyone stated their neighborhood. After Jared said where he lived, Dylan awkwardly muttered: "Yeah, same as him... we, uh live together."

"No way!" Exclaimed Monique.

"So THAT explains Dylan's growing appetite. Your roomie's eating habits rubbing off, huh?" Said Rick.

Dylan gave an uncomfortable laugh and adjusted his boner, "Uh, what can I say? The man likes to eat and so do I."

“Rick here seems real obsessed with everyone’s weight,” laughed Monique.

“Well I am the fattest in the office. But if these two keep it up they may be givin’ me a run for my money.”

Jared and Dylan polished off their beer and fries and headed to the restroom. They made out and played with each other’s cocks before pissing. All this talk about their weight was leaving them both flustered and ready to fuck.

“Looks like we can’t hide these fat rolls anymore,” Jared said while squeezing the roll above Dylan’s lovehandle.

“Fuck, I just wanna go home and lick all the sweat from between your folds,” replied Dylan. “All this talk about how fat were getting makes my cock wanna explode.”

“I have an idea, c’mon.”

The two returned to the table and Jared said: "Unfortunately, I forgot that I have a fundraising event in the morning and need to call it an early night. And, unfortunately, Dylan here is my ride home. So we gotta bail."

After a few attempts to get the men to stay for one more beer, everyone said their goodbyes. The two chubs scurried to the sidewalk as fast as they could to make out and grope each other's plumped up bodies while waiting for the uber. It was a short drive home, but the couple realized they desperately needed food. The pie and chili cheese fries were hardly satiating and it was decided Taco Bell was a necessity. Their uber driver begrudgingly pulled into the drive thru so the men could order around $40 worth of greasy fast food. The gluttons were shameless when it came to the verocity with which they ate, inhaling tacos in two bites and sucking the grease off each other's greedy fingers. The Taco Bell was only 7 minutes from their house, but by the time they arrived all of the food was packed away in swollen stomachs that were being affectionately massaged. Jared let out a belch that vibrated the car seats just before they exited, causing the driver to flash them a judgmental glare. They stumbled to the front door, licking lips, and sloppily groping each other's engorged stomachs and cocks.

Dylan laughed as he unlocked the door: "We're definitely getting a bad review from that guy!"

Dylan stepped inside and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting on the kitchen counter was a pyramid composed of an inordinate amount of individually wrapped twinkies.

"What's this?" He queried.

"Well," Jared began, "since you're only two pounds away from officially being the proud owner of an overweight BMI, I thought we should celebrate to push you over that edge. And what better way to celebrate a cute little twink turning into a fat boy than with a mountain of Twinkies?"

"Fuck," Dylan muttered, "but... I'm so full of Taco Bell."

"I'm not gonna allow that cock to cream until you're full of cream, my puffy little twink. So chow down!"

Dylan stared motionless at the monument of fatty treats. On one hand he felt like his cock was going to explode through his pants, but he was also very full. Still, Jared being so assertive left him positively wet and he wanted nothing more than to see the scale jump two more pounds. But did he have space in his stomach for all these treats?

"Go," demanded Jared. "Do what you do best chubs."

Dylan pulled a bar stool up to the counter, undid the button on his jeans, and unwrapped his first Twinkie. He downed it in two bites. Jared had the next one unwrapped and waiting. Dylan swallowed it down and quickened his pace. He realized the faster he ate, the less full he'd feel, and the more he could get down. He repeated this process for fifteen minutes and destroyed about half of the pyramid of sugar and cream.

"I think I'm too full," Dylan mumbled through heavy breaths.

"You're half way there big boy. Think how soft and pillowy these cakes will make your cakes."

"I don't know about this," Dylan said and wiped sweat from his brow.

"Let's get you to the couch tubs," Jared suggested. "If you lie down and stretch out your stomach, you'll feel better and make room for more."

Dylan followed the advice. Jared helped the bloated boy remove his pants and shirt entirely, and massaged his belly a bit.

"I'll feed the rest to you, I want all your energy focused on filling that gut."

Jared held Twinkie after Twinkie to Dylan's puffy lips. The young gainer's abdomen looked bloated to max capacity. Jared continued to gently massage it and give words of encouragement. As they neared the end of the pile, Dylan was taking a whole Twinkie in each go and belting out moans of discomfort and arousal in between each one. His cock was pressing into his bloated underbelly, pulsating, pink, and dripping puddles of precum.

"I don't know. I don't know if I can do anymore."

"There's only ten more my prized piggy. Then you get to shoot that load."

It took about seven minutes for Dylan to swallow the rest of the sugary treats. Jared wasted no time after Dylan had swallowed the last one to hoist himself onto the former twink's lap. As he slowly slid Dylan's cock inside of him the Twinkie-filled twink began moaning in ecstasy. In a matter of seconds Jared could feel cum exploding inside his ass. Dylan fell asleep almost instantly. He let the piglet sleep on the couch for the night and headed to bed.

Jared awoke the next morning with a raging hard on, eagerly anticipating plopping his pig on the scale. He walked downstairs to an empty couch surrounded by Twinkie wrappers.

"Dylan?"

He looked in the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, even the closet. The fattened twink was nowhere to be found.

#gainer stories #twinkies

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sairyn-noc · 6 years

Text

A Fork in the Road

Written for @accol-fics

Harvey didn’t believe in fate. No, he believed in hard work, a strong will, and the balls to do whatever it took to win. That was all the fate he needed. But life has a way of teaching you lessons and proving to you that sometimes it doesn’t matter how much you fight, there are some battles you just can’t win. If someone would have told him that his quick decision to hire some kid off the street seven years ago to be his associate would lead him here, to this, he probably wouldn’t have believed them. Over the years, Harvey battled the various emotions that threatened to consume him when it came to Mike, but it was no use. He still found his way here- watching the man he loved say goodbye.

It wasn’t supposed to happen- not like this. Truth be told, not at all. Love was for fools who didn’t know any better. And Harvey was no fool, at least he didn’t think he was. But that was before. Now, Harvey wasn’t sure. He stared out of the window of his office having slipped out of the party easily, a tumbler in his grasp. The grey skies reflected his mood. In a few hours the city would be covered in snow, the streets empty and cold. Yes, it was a perfect day for clouds. Because soon there would be no sun, no heat, no Mike.

Finish on AO3

Harvey raised the glass to his lips and swallowed greedily, trying to force down the emotions threatening to overload his consciousness. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to go there; not to relive every smile, every laugh, every moment Mike and he spent together. But it was no use. Seven years was a long time, and yet it went by in the blink of an eye. And just like every movie Harvey loved, his mind went back in time to the beginning- the day a very young ‘Rick Sorkin’ dropped a briefcase of weed at his feet. The memory made him chuckle.

Harvey could still recall how much Mike impressed him that day. So much so Harvey did the unspeakable, he hired him. That wasn’t fate; that was just good business. And besides, it worked.

While the first year was an experiment in “what can we get away with”, the second was filled with secrets, compromises and blackmail. It also brought the first inkling that maybe there was something more than just a defiant streak that had him fighting to keep Mike at his side if defying Jessica’s order to fire Mike was any indication. Sure, he had told himself at the time it was because Mike was valuable to the firm, but looking back, he could easily see it was because of something else; something he couldn’t name that made him resist Mike leaving. Little did he know that following year would be the beginning of the end. That was the year he told Rachel the truth.

Oh sure, Harvey was supportive. Why wouldn’t he be? He had plenty of people willing to warm his bed. What did he care if Mike risked everything over Rachel? Apparently, with hindsight being 20-20, he did. How else could he explain the rage over losing Mike to become an investment banker, leaving Harvey’s side? Or better still, the relief of him coming back- where he belonged, his mind ad-libbed. But nothing was more telling than the last year.

It nearly broke Harvey to watch Mike walk through the gates of Danbury- their secret no longer hidden in the shadows. Harvey believed watching Mike get tried, convicted and sentenced to jail, was the lowest point in his life. And then, when he was released, when he was back and tangible and free, Harvey ignored the twist in his gut as he watched him run into Rachel’s arms. It was enough, he told himself; just to have him free was enough. But with each passing day, it got harder. Instead of Mike following him, it was him chasing after Mike. For all of his bluster and confidence, Harvey was a walking, talking, exposed live nerve- and Mike was the spark of electricity. He spent the last year trying to find the solution to his own personal Kobayashi Maru- his very own doomsday scenario. No matter what he did, it didn’t stop his descent into madness, and it definitely didn’t prevent this day from coming. A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I thought I would find you in here.”

Harvey looked to see Donna standing against the door jamb.

“Just needed a break.”

“Hmm, I see, she said walking into the office to stand next to him. “You know if you need company…” Her voice tapered off and Harvey heard the concern or was it fear, beneath the statement.

That was the last thing he wanted. They still hadn’t talked about that damn kiss. Nor did he want too. But apparently, the shit storm that was his life was intent on making another visit.

“Donna can we just not… do this right now?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, disappointment lacing her answer. She headed towards the door.

Shit, he thought. “Donna wait.”

She stopped, her back still to him. He watched her stiffen, bracing herself, before turning around to face him.

“I get it, Harvey,” she said firmly.

“No, you don't” he sighed.

She pegged him with her signature ‘don’t be an idiot’ look. “Yeah, I do. Don’t forget, I know you better than anyone.”

He looked away as if he could prevent her from seeing a truth he hadn’t even acknowledged yet.

“That night I kissed you, I thought that … Well, I had hoped that maybe now, now that…”

Harvey did not want to talk about this. Not. At. All. He gulped the rest of his drink down and slammed his glass on his desk. Balling his hand up into a fist, Harvey did the one thing he knew he did best; disguised his discomfort in anger.

“You thought what, Donna? That after all this time, you would just waltz in here, kiss me and we would fall into some stupid fantasy you’ve been carrying around for years?” His words were biting, and he saw her flinch more than once, but he couldn’t stop.

“What the hell were you thinking? We’ve been friends too long…”

“Yes. Harvey,” she cut in. “Friends. And for years I have watched you run away, ignore and avoid the glaringly obvious truth you seemed incapable of acknowledging. Talk about the elephant in the room! Everyone could see it, everyone except you and possibly…”

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a controlled whisper.

“Don’t what Harvey? Speak the truth? Well, too bad,” she hissed in return.

Donna stalked closer to him, her finger pointed at his chest.

“I spent years wondering if I made the wrong decision that morning, I kicked you out of my apartment with a smile and a promise that we would never share a bed again. But I got my answer, the night I kissed you. Because even then, despite all that has happened, everything that is happening now, I could tell you were wishing you were kissing someone else.”

“Donna!”

She startled at his abrupt outburst, stopping her tirade. They stared at each other silently for a moment, before she schooled her features into a mask of indifference, then turned to walk out. She paused at the door before turning back to face him once again.

“At least I got my answer,” she said flippantly. “…yours is downstairs, getting ready to leave to go and marry someone else.” With that parting shot, she left.

Harvey released the breath he had been holding and slumped into his chair. He would like to believe that her words didn’t affect him, but he refused to lie to himself. Not anymore and especially not tonight. Harvey was in love. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t want it, in fact, he fought it at every turn. But there was no more denying it. Harvey wanted someone.

Someone he couldn’t have.

Someone who was in love with another.

Someone who was downstairs that very moment.

Someone who was Mike Ross. And Harvey never had the balls to tell him.

But I got my answer. Donna’s words ran through his head on a loop. Harvey thought of all the moments, all the wasted opportunities to say something, anything, but didn’t. How could he be- when up until recently, he couldn’t even admit it to himself. Him. In love. With a guy. Never saw that coming, he mused silently. That’s not to say, Harvey had never been with a man. Back at Harvard, Harvey was known for being a switch hitter. He just never saw himself entertaining the thought of settling down with another man. But here he was, wanting just that.

Too bad it’s too late, the voice, which sounded suspiciously like Donna’s, rang in his head.

Harvey got up and poured another two fingers, intending on drinking enough to drown away his traitorous thoughts and forget about the man downstairs who soon would be another memory. Sure, Mike had told them that nothing would change. But they both knew it was a lie. Everything would change. How could it not? New life, new wife, before long a family. No. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t stand by and torture himself like that on a daily basis. It was best to cut the tie now. He had his chance- and he didn’t take it. He lifted the glass once again, surprised to find it empty. Harvey was about to refill it when Mike’s voice filtered into the room.

“Harvey?”

Harvey looked up to see his office door once again occupied. Mike stood there in his crumpled suit pants, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and eyes a little too bright. Apparently, Harvey wasn’t the only one who may or may not have had a glass or two too many.

“I looked around and you were gone. What ya doing up here?”

“What do you think I’m doing. I’m working,” Harvey answered dismissively.

Of course, Mike didn’t take the cue. “Huh. Really? Cause from where I am standing it looks like you’re avoiding a very good party.”

“Then you’re standing in the wrong spot,” he tried again.

Mike walked across the threshold and grabbed a clean glass- holding it out. Defeated, Harvey poured them both a drink. Mike took a sip and sat on the couch.

“I saw Donna a little bit ago. She was leaving, kept saying something about needing her beauty sleep.”

Harvey stayed silent.

“I take it things aren’t going so well between you two.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harvey deflected.

“Really. Considering just a few weeks ago she came to me hinting around about taking a chance and needing to find answers. It seemed like you two were finally getting together.”

“Donna and I are friends,” Harvey groaned.

“Friends. I have lots of friends…” Mike began.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do and don’t interrupt. Like I was saying. I have lots of friends, but I don’t go around kissing them in my office.”

Harvey felt a warm blush creep up his neck. He had no idea that his and Donna’s little ‘tête à tête’ was witnessed by anyone. Especially not Mike.

“Well, then maybe you’re doing it wrong.”

“What? Kissing in my office or kissing my friends?” Mike smirked.

“Both,” Harvey answered, barely suppressing a sigh.

“I’ll keep that in mind for future use. But seriously, Harvey. What is going on with you? Did you guys fight?”

“Mike,” Harvey sighed. “I told you a long time ago, Donna and I had our time. But it wasn’t meant to be. I love her, I will always love her. But not like that.”

Mike took a sip and cocked his head to the side- appearing to mull Harvey’s statement over in his head.

“Meant to be? Does the great Harvey Specter believe in destiny?” he chuckled lightly.

“Harvey Specter believes in Harvey Specter.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, tell me this then, counselor. Why then did I witness the two of you making out.”

“I had no idea you were a voyeur, Mike,” Harvey countered.

The banter felt good, felt right. The ground beneath his feet for the moment was steady, despite the topic.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Mike asked, unwilling to be swayed.

Harvey looked at his once protege. Gone was the shy kid whose off-the-rack suits hung disproportionately off his once-wiry frame. No, the man before him now was confident, polished, and something he never saw coming. There was also something else- a fierce determination even more apparent at his insistence surrounding his question.

“Is this why you left your party? To come try out your interrogation skills with me? Which, I may add, are abysmal,” Harvey fake admonished.

“Hey, my skills are top notch. Louis taught me everything I needed to know.”

“Oh, Louis did, did he? No wonder you suck at it,” Harvey laughed.

“Look Mike, this is your night. Go down there and enjoy your party, enjoy your fiancée, enjoy your life. You don’t need to worry about me. Donna and I just had a misunderstanding. We will be fine. We always are.”

“Are you sending me away, Specter?”

“I could never send you away,” he breathed. If only he could.

The weight of his statement hung between them. Mikes eyes flickered briefly, and Harvey wondered if Mike could somehow read his thoughts and feelings beneath the words.

“Good,” Mike stated before rising. “Because I don’t want to go,” he added. The words were soft as if they slipped out without conscious thought.

Mike caught Harvey’s eyes briefly and for a moment they blazed with the same heat and intensity as Donna’s had earlier. Then he was walking out of the office into the hall.

Harvey’s heart and brain waged battle in the seconds that ticked by. His brain reminded him that Mike was a taken man; while his heart screamed at him to not waste what could be his last chance.

“Mike,” Harvey called out, jumping up quickly from his chair.

Mike, already in front of the elevators, turned to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“You free tomorrow? Movie marathon? See if you’ve learned anything over the last seven years.”

“You’re on,” Mike grinned. “Prepared to be slayed, Specter.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Harvey smiled in return.

In the battle between his heart and his brain, Harvey couldn’t tell if either truly won that round. Technically, it wasn’t as if he professed his love to Mike. But it was something- wasn’t it? Either way, Harvey would enjoy tomorrow. Yes, he was avoiding the inevitable, but for one more day, he could pretend it was just the two of them against the world.

~~~~

Morning came too soon for Harvey. In fact, when he was awakened by the pounding at his door. He was just in the middle of a dream that had him standing in the middle of nowhere. Three roads fanned out before him. The one to his left was bathed in warm sunset hues. On it stood a group of those people and things long past. His parents, an abandoned baseball field, a younger version of himself when he was Assistant DA, Jessica, Scottie, Zoe, Donna and many more loves and lovers who he had shared his time and or bed. The middle road was bright like the midday sun. He could see occasional clouds and storms in the distance but even those had sun streaks behind them, telling him the storms were passing through. This road looked to be his present life. Images of the firm, with flashes of him in and out of a courtroom, and off to the side was a clear-cut snapshot of the moment he met Mike Ross. Behind that, were snapshots of all their adventures- the good (sneaking into Louis’ office while high), the bad (Mike being caught by Anita) and the mundane.

But it was the third path that bothered him- it was forked. One side was obscured by fog and dark skies with intermittent flashes of lightning. The other was clear, cold and desolate. The path of least resistance…. Harvey began to step towards that one. Harvey was not known for playing it safe, but walking into a storm that he couldn’t see through seemed- unwise. What kind of jackass would do that? He told his dream self. Before Harvey could take a step, the pounding on the door returned.

As his consciousness came back online, the dream faded. A quick glance at the clock told him it was three am. He rolled out of bed and padded over, ready to give a good tongue lashing to whoever was at his door. That threat died when he saw the familiar blonde messy hair through the peephole.

“I thought you had grown out of this,” he mumbled as he opened the door.

“Nope,” Mike replied, popping the ‘p’ like he used to. ” You going to let me in?”

Harvey glanced at Mike scrutinizing him. “Not until you tell me why you are on my doorstep in the middle of the night. I don’t see blood or bone. And you don’t look high or drunk…”

“You said movie marathon,” Mike answered.

“Nowhere in that statement meant at three am.”

“I wanted to get an early start?” Mike held up a six-pack of beer and a bag.

“Uh huh… Get in here.”

Harvey stepped aside so Mike could walk by. After a silent prayer to whoever was listening for strength, he closed the door to face his demons head-on. Harvey meandered to the kitchen where Mike was pulling out a couple of bottles.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture,” Harvey stated as he reached out to still Mike’s hand from opening the first bottle.

“…but how about we start with some coffee, so I can stop seeing two of you, and then you can tell me why you are really here.”

Mike lifted both his hands in a gesture of surrender and headed for the couch. Within minutes, the smell of fresh roast coffee wafted throughout the kitchen. Harvey grabbed two mugs and joined Mike.

“Now you want to let me in on what’s going on?”

Mike took a sip and frowned. “Bitter.”

“I swear,” Harvey sighed, walking back to the kitchen. “When will you learn how to drink coffee like an adult?”

“Never.”

Harvey returned to the couch with the sugar. “Here Peter Pan. Don’t come crying to me when your teeth rot.”

“Who else am I going to come to?”

“How about your soon to be wife?” Harvey answered sarcastically.

“But she won’t treat me like you do,” Mike whined.

“I should hope not,” Harvey chuckled.

Requisite amount of sugar added, Mike took a big gulp of the steaming liquid and smiled.

“Happy now Princess?”

“Yes,” he answered easily.

“Good. Now you want to tell me why you are at my door in the middle of the night?”

Mike looked down for a moment, burying his nose in his cup. Harvey was willing to wait. It only took a moment. With a heavy sigh, Mike put down his mug and turned to face Harvey.

“Maybe I just wanted to do something that was familiar. Something that was all mine. With all of the changes at the firm, my decision to cut back and my wedding in a few weeks, I just wanted a piece of my old life. And when you brought up a movie marathon day, well, I found I wanted that more than anything at the moment.”

“I get that, Harvey replied. “But it still doesn’t answer the question why are you here now?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Making the decision to not push any further, Harvey changed direction.

“You want to sleep here, then get started first thing?”

Mike smiled and reached for his bag. “Thought you would never ask.”

Harvey picked up the two mugs and went to the closet to retrieve a pillow and some blankets.

“Here,” he said, throwing and effectively hitting Mike square in the chest. “You know the drill. Whoever wakes first makes pancakes.”

“I’ll take blueberry.”

“What makes you think I’ll wake first?” Harvey asked incredulously.

“In all the years you have known me, have I ever been the first to wake?”

Harvey cocked his head and sighed in fake annoyance. “Fine, blueberry. But don’t think I am letting you sleep all day.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike said, spreading the blankets across the length of the couch.

Harvey retreated to his room and attempted to go back to sleep. But all he could do was listen to the soft noises and rustles coming from his living room. It was maddening to know that Mike was so close and yet still a million miles away.

“Shit,” Harvey muttered into his pillow, before turning over and closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, it was to the sight of the sun streaming through his windows and the smell of bacon. He stole a quick glance at the clock- eight am. Harvey couldn’t remember the last time he saw Mike awake and alert this early without the threat of termination. He had to see this.

“I must have an intruder because I know damn well my soon to be ex-associate isn’t awake and in my kitchen making breakfast. Who are you and what have you done with Mike?”

“Funny,” Mike replied. “Have a seat. The coffee is fresh and bitter. Just the way you like it.”

Harvey grabbed a cup and sat at the counter while Mike flipped the bacon.

“So, what’s your pleasure Specter?”

Besides you? His thoughts flashed. “You making pancakes? Or should I order up something simple like eggs?”

“You can order anything you want,” Mike suggested.

And for a second, Harvey’s brain went offline. “How about chef’s choice,” Harvey managed to mumble. “I’m going to cue up today’s movie fest.”

“Sounds good,” Mike replied offhandedly before turning back to his mix.

Harvey couldn’t get a handle on his warring emotions. His brain was too busy trying to decipher and decode Mike’s strange behavior- which only got stranger. After begging to watch the Marvel movies in order, Mike was asleep before they even got to the first Captain America. Not that it mattered- Harvey still had a collection of original comics and the movies did not do them justice, but something was definitely off with his protégé.

“Mike,” Harvey nudged the man currently drooling on his leather couch.

“Hm?” a sleepy voice answered.

“Wake up.”

“I’m awake.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re sleeping.”

“I’m not sleeping. I can tell you everything that happened.”

“Yes, I am sure you can. With your memory and all,” Harvey chided.

Mike lifted his head and stretched his arms above his head. Harvey did not, repeat, did not, look at the small patch of skin as Mike’s shirt rucked up. Instead, he stopped the film and turned to face him.

“Okay Mike. Let’s have it. What’s going on?”

“I told you, I just wanted a day for me.”

“And you have had one. Now why don’t you tell me why you are avoiding going home.”

Mike sat up and sighed loudly, “I don’t know. I mean, I love Rachel. I proposed, we set a date and then I went to jail.”

“Yes, I was there. But now you are free. You have spent the last year rebuilding your life, the life you want,” Harvey stated blandly.

“Is it?”

“Is what?”

“Is it the life I want?”

And then just like that, Harvey knew the real problem. Mike was having second thoughts. Harvey would be lying if the thought of Mike not getting married didn’t fill him with a certain sense of relief, but his better angels prevailed. So instead of pushing Mike further, he went with reassurance.

“You know Mike. What you’re feeling is normal. A lot of people have second thoughts; it’s called ‘cold feet’. You know you love Rachel and she loves you. There is nothing wrong with being happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

Mike stayed silent, his hands shuffled back and forth through his hair. Harvey recognized the gesture, Mike often did that when he was struggling with something.

“Mike,” Harvey started again. His voice a little softer. He grabbed Mike’s elbow, stopping Mike’s motion. “Mike, look at me.”

Mike turned. His eyes were wide, trusting, and a little frightened. Harvey’s mouth went dry. Once again, he had to swallow his first instinct to reach out and pull Mike into his arms. But Mike wasn’t his.

“Rookie…,” he started again. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“No.” Mike’s voice was small almost childlike.

“Then trust me now. You got this. You and Rachel are going to have a great life together. Promise. Now go home.”

Mike smiled and sighed with relief. Ten minutes later, Mike was packed and walking out of Harvey’s condo. And Harvey? Well, Harvey died a little.

~~~

Harvey spent the next few weeks working like a madman. His relationship with Donna was still strained and Mike was spending less and less time at the firm which was fine by Harvey. Really it was. It allowed him to drown himself in his work. Harvey spent his days trying to rebuild the firm that seemed to be on life support at every turn and at night, making sure Mike’s wedding and everything that went along with it, was perfect. That is what you do for someone you love, no matter how much it hurts. It wasn’t until two nights before the wedding that Harvey got another late-night visit.

When the pounding came, Harvey was on the couch, his bed of choice as of late. He didn’t even bother to look. He knew who was on the other side. Opening the door, Harvey watched as Mike sauntered in- eyes bloodshot, and looking a bit thinner than he last remembered.

“You look like hell,” he said as way of greeting.

“Yeah well, tossing and turning every night will do that to you,” Mike grumbled.

“I thought we cured that the last time you showed up at my place in the middle of the night.”

“So did I.”

“Okay, so coffee or alcohol?” Harvey yawned.

“Neither,” Mike countered, and plopped on the couch.

“What?” Harvey responded surprised, his brain going on full alert.

“I just want to hang here for a bit,” Mike said, as way of explaining.

“Okay. Why don’t you pick out a movie and I will put on a pot of coffee for me.”

“Harvey,” Mike huffed. Can I just crash here?”

Alarmed, Harvey sat back down. “Mike, is there something going on? Did you and Rachel have a fight?”

“What? No!” Mike quickly answered. “I just… I guess maybe I am just having another bout of nerves.”

“Nerves. Okay. Tell me then. Do you love Rachel?”

“Yes.”

Harvey measured his next words carefully. “Are you in love with Rachel?”

This time, there was a pause before Mike answered.

“Of course.”

Harvey had built his career on reading people. Distinguishing truth from lies. And right now, Harvey knew Mike was lying. But this was not his fight, his truth to reveal; so he continued.

“Then why are you here, instead of at her side?”

Mike dropped his head. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with emotion.

“Shouldn’t you…know?”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do since the last time I was here?”

“I don’t know, Mike. What have you been doing?”

Mike’s eyes shone then. “Trying to figure out why this is the only place I want to come when my world isn’t right.”

“Well, I can answer that for you easily,” Harvey said trying to lighten the mood.

“You can?”

“Of course, Harvey countered. “I’m awesome.”

Mike chuckled. “And modest too.”

“It’s not bragging…”

“Yes, yes, Harvey I know, ‘if it’s true’,” Mike interrupted.

“Look Mike, I am not trying to tell you what to do. But did you ever stop to think that you are here, because you don’t want to be somewhere else?”

“That’s all I have thought about.”

“Well, don’t you think you might want to figure out what that means? Preferably before you walk down the aisle.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No matter what, it’s going to be okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Harvey. I mean it.”

“Anytime. So how about you try and get some sleep. I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m going to head out. I need to do some thinking.”

“You sure? It’s late.”

“I got this Harvey. Thanks.”

Mike closed the door with a thunk and Harvey dragged himself to bed.

He would’ve liked to say he went back to sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, his mind drifted back to the first night Mike had nerves and showed up at his place in the middle of the night. Images from that strange dream flashed behind his closed eyelids. What the hell was going on. Up until a few months ago, everything had been fine in Harvey’s world. Well, as fine as losing his mentor and trying to rebuild the firm and his reputation could allow. That was also before Donna decided to play whack-a-mole with their shared past. Now everything was topsy-turvy with Mike. It was like Harvey went to sleep one night and woke up in some strange alternate reality. What he wouldn’t give to wake up tomorrow and have a do-over. Harvey was supposed to be the man with all the answers. But lying in his bed after hearing Mike unknowingly confess that he wasn’t in love with Rachel left him lost. Maybe it’s a sign, he wondered. Although was it really? Maybe the absence of a sign is the sign. This is ludicrous, he told himself and turned over once again.

~~~

The morning of the wedding, Harvey woke to a myriad of texts starting just after five am. The first was from Mike, asking to meet him for breakfast. The others came from the rest of their friends, including a cryptic “WHAT DID YOU DO?” from Donna. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to determine what had happened. Harvey sent a quick text to Mike asking him when and where and grabbed a quick shower. An hour later, he walked through the doors of a little hole in the wall sporting a Best Breakfast 2017 award in the window. Mike was sitting in a corner booth, dressed smartly in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt; his winter coat folded (more like wadded up), next to him on the bench. The most telling sight though was the smile he was wearing. It seemed to brighten the entire room. Harvey found himself smiling in return when he caught his eye.

Harvey saw the two roads from his dream in the ten feet walk to where Mike sat. After everything they had been through, all the moments he chose the path of least resistance and kept silence, Harvey was getting one last reprieve. Maybe it was time to choose differently. Maybe there was such a thing as fate or destiny. Harvey took his seat across from Mike and ordered.

“So…” he started.

“Did you know…,” Mike interrupted, “…that the Greeks didn’t write obituaries?”

Harvey, not knowing where this was going, waited for Mike to continue.

“'They only asked one question after a man died, ‘Did he have passion?'”

“Is this what you have been doing while contemplating your future? Brushing up on the death practices of ancient civilizations?”

“Something like that,” Mike chuckled.

Their breakfast arrived shortly after and Harvey took a sip of coffee. “Are you going to tell me what happened? I mean, I can surmise that we will not be going to the church this afternoon, but the details are a little fuzzy.”

“Nothing happened, per se,” Mike began, after shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “It’s just like you said. I wasn’t with Rachel because I wanted to be someplace else.”

“I assume that didn’t go over so well with her.”

Mike placed his fork down and looked at his plate. “No, not particularly. But it was still the right thing to do. I didn’t want to have the wedding only to have this same conversation weeks, months or years down the road. So yeah. She thinks I am a jerk.”

Harvey felt his heart grow with pride. Doing the right thing wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it hurt. He knew that first hand.

“Mike, I don’t think you’re a jerk. I think…” and then he stopped for a moment, the quotes finally falling into place. He wanted to laugh out loud. “I think you look like a jackass.”

Mike’s head snapped up and he smiled brightly. “And I think…you’re the shit!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Serendipity? Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse.” Harvey laughed.

“Why not? It’s a classic. Besides, you started it. All that talk about 'maybe you’re here because you don’t want to be somewhere else,'” Mike beamed.

He did have a point, Harvey conceded silently. If someone had told him that on the morning of Mike’s wedding, Harvey would make a life-altering choice, he would’ve laughed out loud. But sitting across from Mike at that moment, it seemed inevitable. Fate, destiny, serendipity, or whatever else was out there, waited for Harvey to make his move. Harvey took a deep breath and chose the unseen path.

“Mike, would you like to get out of here?”

“Sure. Any place you want to go?”

“No. Not really. I just know I would rather spend everyday with you than with anyone else.”

#marvey #marveysecretsanta2017 #fix it #hope everyone had a great holiday

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