#I've spent so much time under this tree there is a stain where my back touches it

[imaginalstudio]

[bokutizer]

➵ KAMISATO AYATO

summary : catching flying sakura petals with bloodied hands tags : angst, hopeful ending!, mentions of injury, blood a/n : I've spent way too much time farming handguards for ayato and wanderer..

In the glimmering reflection of the sword in your hands, its blade marred with dirt and scratches, you noticed petals of the nearby Sakura trees flying by. For an instant, your mind traveled back to a few moments prior.

You had been walking beside Ayato, your arm looped around his as you lazily strolled down the natural stairs that led towards the Chinju Forest. It had been quiet, none of you exchanging many words, but rather simply enjoying each other’s company. Especially since it had taken you a lot of persuasiveness to get his workaholic self to neglect his duties for once and instead just relish the calming benefits of a simple walk. 

So how was it that you held this unfamiliar weapon in your hands, feeling nothing like your own sword. This one had surely neither been cleaned nor polished in months, its blade shattered and rusty. The sword was heavy, its grip feeling cold to the touch and portraying its purpose which consisted solely of taking lives.

How was it that you found yourself surrounded by a group of ronin right now? This was not an area where you could easily spot one of them, the main reason obviously being the fact that the Shuumatsuban kept the Kamisato Estate and its surroundings safe and under constant supervision.

Nevertheless here you were, knees hurting after they had hit the ground, though your head held high. Lungs expanding with the oxygen you were frantically breathing in, yet feeling as if you were suffocating. His body was slumped against your own. You felt his warmth along your back. The usual warmth of his chest against which you loved to press your cheek, feel its steady raise and fall, hear the heart that was beating inside-

Right now, the same warmth was the only thing keeping you sane, giving you a reason to not surrender. You did not dare turn around and inspect his injury, too scared that it might smash the little fragment of hope you still had left inside you into tiny irreparable pieces.

"Y/n-" his voice was merely a hoarse whisper as he spoke. It was as if every weak and pained breath of his took away your own ragged ones, the occasional cough and groan slicing like a dagger across your chest and burying itself inside your heart. "You have to leave."

Another slice through your heart. "Wha- No. No, I'm not leaving you-"

"My love-" another cough vibrated through his chest, the blood trickling down the side of his mouth, a sign that you had not much time left. "Just g-go. We'll meet home once I-"

"Liar." your throat tightened as you tried to keep your tears at bay, your attention momentarily switching back to the dozen samurai that were currently discussing their next move. After all, it was not an every day occurrence that you had the Yashiro Commissioner himself and his wife on their knees right in front of you. "I'm sure someone will come soon to look for us." you reasoned, the thought of escaping this precarious situation drawing a small yet hopeful smile on your face. "We've been gone for too long now and you know how easily Thoma gets worried-"

Your voice quietened down at the sudden sound of a thud. Why was it so cold all of a sudden.

"Ayato?" you called- no, prayed as you turned your head, your eyes scanning his lifeless body lying in the grass. His soft skin looked paler than usual, hair sprawled along the ground while the wound on his chest had bled through his robe and stained the white silky material. In an instant, your hands were all over him. The sword you had been holding, falling beside you as you tried to talk to him, keep him awake, look for a pulse- Just anything that would tell that he was okay.

"Ayato, darling, please." You begged him to wake up, you begged the archons for him to stay with you, while everything around you faded out. You couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anyone except the slow and way too weak movement of Ayato's chest as you put pressure on his wound, the wet warmth sticking to your hands making you nauseous. "Please, stay with me." Don't leave me.

"My lady-" And amidst your begging and praying, a shock of blonde hair caught your attention as the person was crouching right beside you, his hands resting on your shoulders. Thoma?

"He'll be alright. My lady, listen to me, we have to get you both-"

As you watched him being taken away from you, your first reflex was to grab that goddamned sword. However, at a second glance you realized that the men's uniforms, that carried your husband away, looked pleasantly familiar. The samurai were all disarmed, some of them lying lifelessly on the ground while others were escorted to a place you knew they'd be taken care of the way they deserved it. He'll be alright.

[muffindaddystyles]

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

Where Harry's five years old bubba gets lost in a park while playing hide and seek. You help her to find her daddy.

Warning: Emotional and whole lot of fluff <3

Pastel tutu frock, a lil bucket hat and shoes that makes 'puch.' 'puch.' noises when she waddles with her adorable toddler gait chasing her father.

It's still early in the morning less people more relieved Harry that he could spent some affectionate time with his lovin' little girl of four out in the park, as a single father he dresses her with more fashion indulgment than any mother could.

Cheeky smug He's. Kinda proud of it.

They were playing hide and seek a bit far from their picnic basket ontop of checkered blanket along her toys. She came all the way from their home to car and car to park sitting on her daddy's shoulders.

"Dawwy! That's cheatin'." She stomped her dainty feet into sodden lush grass underneath and Harry grinned booping her button nose just like his's, "cheeky bugger." He watched her in amusement when she caught his slender finger with her chubby ones, pouting cutely at him.

"Kay. lovie' we're gonna play, again." He assured her raising his palms in air taking two steps back at once, "this time no cheatin', promise." She bobbed her head enthusiasticly running to hide behind the nearest largest oak tree as her daddy told her not to go too far from him ever.

Harry was rounding her from other side when too impatient she went to found Harry on other side, "daw'wy!?" Her flight of run like a dove in sky was startled when she found her tall, curly head daddy nowhere in sight.

She toddled further away even though Harry has instructed her never to leave a certain place no matter what, her daddy would find her at the same spot if something happens.

"Bubba? love bug'?" He frowned as his daughter who just hid behind the same bark vanished. Not getting anxious he strided back to their spot but she wasn't there.

She has come so far away in search of her daddy at first she told herself that "she's daddy's big girl." . "she would get back to him and he'd give her alot of kisses." But then she got scared seeing alot of people here and there. Her ending point of bravery was when some little pal hit her with soft ball.

The pool of tears bursted like rainfall from her soft warm eyes, staining her coral chunky cheeks and she rubbed her glossy eyelids with the back of her hand with series of hiccups making her vision more blurry.

You were sitting under a shade reading a copy of Little Women. Eyes flickering when you poked your tongue out to collect some moist on your finger to turn the paper, right then your eyes fell over the cutest fuzz of a lil girlie crying with painful fat tears waddling her way lost towards the pond and with a loud gasp you left everything running towards her before she was too close to it.

"Hey. hey kiddo." You reached at the mean time quickly scooping her up in your arms and she sobbed out loudly, "dawwy!" You stroked her hair as she snoggled her snotty nose and moist face in the crook of your neck.

"Honey are you lost?" You tried to calm her down by rubbing soothing circles at her back and she nodded with incoherent blabbering.

"Lemme me help you, yeah? Do you know your parent's names." You asked her politely taking her back to where you were sitting under the large tree and she pulled her face out murmuring a tiny, "yesh." You beamed at her giving her a thumbs up.

"You're doing so good, darlin'." You tucked her loose curls under her ear and she tells you her father's name, "Hawwy. S'tyles." She doesn't have her way with 's and t's.' sounds so it was 'yles.' coming from her mouth and you had to comprehend it yourself.

"Honey you know his number?" She counts on her fingers as Harry made her learn his phone number in case of any emergency like this but she's so anxious she forgot, silent tears again spilling out from her struggle. "Sh. sh. lovie'. S'okay, you're okay. you're safe with me." You cooes at her softly wiping her tears and kissing her cheeks gently rocking her on your knees.

"B-but. dawwy!" She hiccups badly and you made her sip water, feeling pitiful for the poor bub.

"Bubs we're gonna find your daddy, yeah? you and me together are a whole power puff team!" You again rock her cheerfully standing up with her on your hip. Taking the challenge on yourself to find her daddy in no less time.

On the other hand Harry was loosing his mind. He pulled at his hair anxiously, worry drowning him into deep. Scared for his bubba. She's so little im this huge park. Harry never lets her dodge from under his wings and now he's on verge of getting a panic attack. He should have never came to park. He went from one person to another showing his petal's picture to them hands trembling as he did so.

"Sh-she's fou'. Little pink hat, tutu frock. Chocolate c-curls in specific." He gesticulated voice wavering and with everyone denying he went absolute crazy.

Tears glistening in his eyes and he's feeling as if he'd stop breathing. Putting his hand over where his heart is he took long strides of the whole park which's too big and in the end he fell on his knees with a thud onto grass when he couldn't find his only life, the piece of his heart nowhere. Sobbing loudly that made him bent outwards.

They live near by so he quickly dialed gemma. When she heard him sobbing onto speaker she abruptly stood up scaring Anne too, "Harry what happened?" She asked worriedly.

"Harry talk to me." She tried in a calming voice and he stuttered even causing Gemma to lost her breath, "d-dovie. lost her gem. fuckin' lost her. Couldn't find her." She was quick to act not telling Anne and assuring her she would in their car ride.

Harry was falling into his mum's embrace when they rushed to security department where Harry's at as the cops assured him that they'll find his daughter safe and unharmed.

He whimpered soaking her shirt. Whole body shaking, "can't lost her mum, she's the only one I've." She tried to calm him getting rid of her own tears.

"S'been two hours I've been searching her like a mad man. I'll fuckin' die if somethin' happens to her." At this Anne scolded him as gemma hugged him reassuring him. "It's m'fault. All m'fault." His tears and emotions were all where and he blamed himself.

"Shit father. never gonna forgive myself." Anne sighed shakily stroking his head. She has never seen her son crippling to this edge.

"She's fine. We'll find her."

Your back sweaty as the sun shines on you mercilessly while you hurriedly walked with Dove on your hip, her head on your shoulder resting sadly while you fanned her continuously with the paper fan and you breathed hunching a little seeing that some security department's few steps away from you. But, it's the one opposite from where Harry and his family are.

You immediately went to first table not waiting for your breaths to get back to normal, "hi. This's Dove Styles. Four. Lost." You informed them and they made you sit at the bench.

She was getting all tired and limpy from the crying. So you took her in your lap tucking her head under your armpit, "daddy's soon gonna come okay dove darlin'? Then he's gonna collect you fuzz baby in his arms." You took out a box of juice from your backpack tapping the straw against her rosy lips and you took in her features thinking how beautiful her daddy must be to her be this cute.

Even though her daddy has sternly taught her never to accept things from strangers but the poor babe's so exhausted she did.

Some cop came cop telling you they've found her daddy that he's at the other security building but you shook your head stubbornly squeezing her near to your chest. Because well you don't trust anybody not even the cops, most importantly not when it's a child.

"Tell her daddy to come take his child from here." The cop grunts at you. "Annoying lady." but you ignored him checking on dove cleaning her hands that were sticky from her drinking juice like how toddlers do.

You were hot on your feet when three panicked figures came rushing inside Dove on your hip and you asked her, "is that your da—" but you were cut off from her yearning cry.

"Dawwy!" It was like sky and ground meeting as Dove latched into Harry's arms, he was too ripped to shreds and with a loud whimper he feel stingingly onto tiled floor firm grip around his dovie's neck, forearm wrapped around her little body protectively. He clutched onto her for dear life, sponging endless kisses to her visible skin.

"Thought I lost ye' bubba...really thought–" He said in between wet kisses his tears smudging her cheeks and the duo's reunion infront of you made you sentimental too. "Never scare daddy like this dove. m'heart stopped." She muttered a 'sowwy.' At his anxious rambling.

"Forgive me, dovie. Daddy's bad." She shook her head. The four year old's too soft from heart to know what emotions are scowling at her daddy with her chubby palms pushing into his cheeks, "no dada." You smiled at her when she glanced back at you.

"Y/n helped mew. She say we were power puff girls." You chuckled that she still remembers ruffling her hair, "see? Told ya daddy was gonna find you." Harry rubs his nose wiping his tears standing up.

"Thank you so much, can't thank you enough." You found his voice so mellow even after hoarseness, "s'okay. She's safe that all matters." Anne and gem nodded while talking to Dove in baby voices telling her how worried they all got.

You were walking outside while talking to Harry, "and thank ye' fo' not trusting anybody you know...and no' lettin' her go." You assured him shaking his hand.

"No problem." You leaned down a little kissing her cheek, "and dove honey never go near to ponds, yeah?" She said a lil 'okie." wrapping herself tight around her father.

"Oh my god, dovie?" He asked her horrid at what could happen taking her chin but you quickly rambled not wanting to make him feel more panicked and anxious.

"She was crying and in haze that's why, she's okay now Mr. Styles."

"I owe you y/n. And please just call me, Harry." You nodded sheepishly now. Muttering a what the hell you fool at yourself and gemma quipped.

"Yes. Please have lunch with us?"

"Pwease?" You laughed out aloud at dove's innocent pleading deciding to let your English class go and bobbing your head at which Harry grinned, "perfect."

.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- tension, again.

When In Paris

The suite at the five star Parisian hotel was far more glamorous than anything Emma had ever experienced, and that was coming after an extensive flight spent on a private jet. The wonder in her eyes was unmatched, and by just looking at her face, Keanu could tell that their trip was her first time traveling in luxury. Something about the twinkle in her eyes made him want to see it more, he wanted to spoil Emma, just so he could hear that, melodic, breathless laugh that she'd emitted when they boarded the private jet, see the way her red painted lips parted in awe when they landed in magnificent Paris and be privy to the way her pretty eyes widened when they entered the suite.

Upon Miranda finding out that a new collaboration with a New York based cosmetic company would have her missing the premiere in Paris, Keanu had found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Partially because he didn't want to spend the trip, and by extension his birthday, tolerating Miranda's constant nitpicking of Emma's methods and the little insults she usually threw the girl's way. But there was another part of him, softer and more cautious about letting its intentions known, that insisted that he was actually relieved because no Miranda meant more time alone with Emma. Keanu knew that he shouldn't have been thinking like that, he was engaged and highly doubted that Matt and Poppy's nanny even returned his not-so-platonic feelings. She was young and would probably be repulsed by the idea of being tied down by a man his age, far less one with young children.

As Keanu settled into his room, the master bedroom right next to the slightly smaller room where the twins would be staying and directly across from Emma's room, he tried to push away the intrusive thoughts, only to be interrupted by none other than the subject of his wandering eyes. "Got a minute?" She smiled shyly, loosely gripping the knob of his ajar door.

"I could spare a few," he grinned brightly despite himself. For her, he'd carve time out of the busiest of schedules.

"Great," Emma blushed, noting the way his gaze roved her form, clad in a snug, white sweater and a simple pair of blue jeans, "The kids, they want to go out. I'd take them on my own, but I've never been here, and I wouldn't want to get lost." Glancing at the floor, she tucked an escaped strand behind her ear, and Keanu didn’t think he could put into words how much he wanted to be the one doing that; his thumb caressing her high cheek bone, her skin soft and warm to touch. “If you don’t have time, then-”

“No,” Keanu dropped the shirt he was holding back into the suitcase, walking around the foot of the king sized bed, collecting his leather jacket and scarf on his way towards Emma. He stopped closer to her than he should have, and with that proximity, she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, “I have time, we could go for a walk and if I remember correctly there should be a great café about a block away. You’ll like it.”

Stunned, Emma blinked quickly, not expecting Keanu to be so readily on board the idea of going out mere hours after they’d gotten to the hotel. She had started to forget how much fun and how carefree he could be when Miranda wasn’t around and even if she knew that her opinion didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, Emma thought she preferred Keanu when he was alone.

Surprisingly, he led her towards the drawing room with his hand on the center of her back, almost weightless even as comforting warmth emanated from his palm. It was almost as if he wanted to touch her, though he knew he shouldn't.

Calling out to the kids, who came running excitedly, both still dressed to go out, Keanu swiped Emma’s camel coat from off the back of the grey, floral patterned cabriole sofa, helping her into it. His fingers brushed her shoulders through her sweater, electrifying her nerves, and when he absently passed his hands over her arms after it was on, Emma sucked in a breath, restraining herself from leaning into him, “Thank you,” she blushed, hoping he wouldn’t see it.

“Of course,” he hated having to take his hands off her and before he could stop himself, Keanu found himself wondering what it would be like if he were with Emma instead of Miranda, surely, he hadn’t known her for as long, but being with her came naturally, and as he watched her kneeling to get Poppy into her pink, fuzzy, petite coat, closing up the large plastic buttons at the front, Keanu couldn’t deny how purely familial it felt; just her, him and the children. No one moaning about how the children should stay back for the evening, telling Matt that he couldn’t wear blue on blue or making snide remarks in his ear about how the nanny was overstepping when she pecked the kids on their foreheads. Keanu liked it when Emma overstepped, when she cared for his children as if they were her own, when she lightened the mood with a joke told under her breath and when she’d, even if accidentally, showed her concern for his own wellbeing, as if he were more to her than just an employer. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready guys?” Emma turned the question to the twins as she slipped her cell into her nude colored shoulder purse, proceeding to stylishly wrap a floral scarf around her neck, adding a pop of color to her cool toned outfit. When they both nodded vigorously, bouncing in agreement, she offered her hand, giggling when Matt went for it, leaving Poppy with him, “Alright, then let's go, lead the way,” Emma beamed, turning to Keanu.

The café that Keanu had told Emma about was right where he remembered, and they were led to a table quickly by the young hostess; perk of being a celebrity. They were tucked cozily in the corner of the patio dining area, where their scenic surroundings were still visible; orange and yellow leaves peppering the sidewalk after having fallen from trees planted along the edges, while picturesque buildings on the other side of the worn brick street added to the view. A small platter of strawberries and cream macarons as well as orange and chocolate madeleines, along with two hot chocolates were enough to get Matt and Poppy settled for a while, talking and giggling amongst themselves. Emma was sitting across from him, occasionally slipping small forkfuls of French silk pie into her mouth as she drank in the beauty of city, “Do you like it?” Keanu interrupted her thoughts, just as she was setting her latte down, her cherry red lipstick lightly staining the delicate china.

“The coffee, the chocolate or Paris?” She held his gaze, tongue darting out ever so slightly to moisten her lips, just before she brought the silverware to her mouth again, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes. She was so, so beautiful, and Keanu had caught himself staring a few too many times.

Smile still evident, he shifted around a sliver of his moose cake, the plate streaked with pink, white and brown, trying not to fumble on his words. Emma didn’t really make him nervous per say, it was quite the opposite actually, Keanu usually felt a comfort and ease around her that was absent in the company of most others, like she was simply encouraging him to be the best version of himself. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t long to be close to perfection in her eyes; say all the right things at the right times, impress her because even if she didn’t make him feel like he had to, Emma made him feel like she deserved it. “All of it, Paris, the chocolate, the coffee,” he quoted in reverse.

“Its…..perfect,” inhaling, a lone shiver ran through her, and she sipped her latte again, “I’ve actually never been out of the states, so this kind of feels…….magical.” There was a childlike sparkle in her expression, something Keanu hadn’t witnessed in anyone other than children in years, at his age, there weren’t many luxuries that he hadn’t yet experienced, and despite their two years together, Keanu had yet to see anything close to that on Miranda’s face. There was a time, within the first few months of them dating where he’d strove to impress her, going any lengths just so she’d be happy with him, but by the eighth or ninth month, it became a daunting, tiring task, and Miranda didn’t seem to care what he did, as long as it was up to her expensive tastes. Emma though, there was an air about her that made Keanu feel special, like he could give her the smallest thing and she’d just be in awe.

“You’ve never travelled?” Keanu frowned, his kids had been travelling with him since they were a year old, and at that point, he didn’t think they knew a life that didn’t involve leaving their home country at least twice a year.

She nodded, tearing her gaze from across the street and casting it back towards Keanu, “Nope, not out of the states,” embarrassed, Emma drew in a soft breath from the chilly autumn air, “First we couldn’t really afford it, but even when I got older, after my mom got us in a good place, she had to save so I could go the college. I don’t mind though,” straightening her back, Emma regained her quiet confidence, “I’ve got a lot of time for that.”

“You do,” Keanu agreed, bringing his espresso to his lips, blowing on the scaling beverage before taking a long sip, “I mean, one day you’re gonna be a famous designer and you’ll get to go wherever you want.”

Laughing quietly, Emma bent her head shyly, wispy dark strands falling over her face, having escaped from her high ponytail, “I don’t know about that,” she dismissed, “I mean, its gonna take a while before I even cement myself in the L.A. fashion scene, famous…..that’s something else. It’s a nice thought though.”

“Its a great reality too,” tentatively, he reached for her hand laid on the top of the wicker table, squeezing affectionately, before catching himself and reluctantly retracting, “I’ve seen some of what you can do, those dresses your made yourself, that purple tutu you made Pop for her recital last month, you can do this Em. I know it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me, but I believe in you.”

“I,” she stumbled on her words, astonished by his faith in her, “It actually does mean a lot to me Keanu,” Emma dragged her lower lip through her teeth, and Keanu shifted in his chair, inhaling sharply, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he croaked, trying to slow his breaths. It was amazing how he could go from being wonderstruck by Emma to being turned on in just seconds. She was truly an enigma, one of a kind. “You know,” he huffed, hoping to change the topic and get them talking again to steer his thoughts away from anything too perverse, “This is my favorite, here, try it.” He offered her some of his cake on his fork, encouraging Emma to lean in. So much for going for something more innocent.

Hesitating, Emma eventually leaned over the table, letting Keanu feed her a bit of the cake, moaning in pleasure at its taste. She could easily see why it was his favorite, the raspberry, vanilla and dark chocolate all melded together in her mouth to create a symphony of flavor, each one complimenting the other perfectly as the moose melted on her tongue. “That’s amazing!” And at that, Poppy and Matt started cheering about how they wanted to try it too, their faces lighting up at how delightfully sweet the creamy desert was.

Dragging his lip through his teeth, Keanu chuckled as he looked on at Emma, “You have a little….” he gestured to the corner of his mouth, only laughing louder when Emma missed several times over. “Here,” he grabbed up his napkin, reaching over the table, “Let me,” dapping the corner of her lips, Keanu eyed the way her cheeks reddened and took a chance at carelessly brushing her skin with his thumb, his ragged breath matching hers. “Em…..” Knowing that the right thing would have meant pulling away wasn’t hard knowledge to come by, but knowing how to just be Emma’s friend and boss certainly was.

Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side and Emma’s blinking slowed, roughness of his touch so inviting that she wanted it to last forever. There was something at the tip of her lips, and Keanu yearned to know what it was, perhaps permission for his feelings, indication that she returned them, but alas, their moment was cut in half when Matt spotted a walking balloon vendor across the street, him and his sister protesting loudly, clamoring about how they wanted balloons. Immediately, Keanu pulled away, collecting his bearings and discarding the napkin, as Emma averted her stare, hoping to find anything more interesting. They’d come so close to crossing a line, and Keanu knew that had they kept going, he’d have hell to pay when he returned to L.A.

One Week Later The premiere had fallen exactly on Keanu’s birthday, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, him being gone for the day meant that Emma would have enough time to put her plan in action, but on the other, it also meant that by the time Keanu had gotten home, they kids were beat and borderline cranky. Thankfully though, Keanu had returned by half nine and neither Matt nor Poppy had fallen asleep in the cute little semi formal outfits Emma had dressed them in. As he’d walked in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the main room, looking tired and a little more down than she’d been expecting, Emma and the kids yelled excitedly, “Surprise!”

Shocked, Keanu jumped, holding his hand to his chest, speechless for a moment. Though, that, fortunately, didn’t last very long, “What is all this?” Second by second, a wide grin split his lips and his eyes scanned the room, landing on their set up on the coffee table; a layered cake, the one he’d mentioned as his favorite at the café, glasses along with a bottle of cider and a few presents, wrapped in cheerful paper with ribbons and bows adorning the top.

“It’s for you daddy!” Poppy was the first to run up to Keanu, grabbing his leg in a hug, followed only second later by Matt, who did the same. And just as he bent over, taking them into his ready arms, Emma stood from the sofa, not wanting to intrude on their moment, “Happy Birthday!” Kissing his cheek, Poppy, was sure to hug him as tightly as her little arms would allow.

“Happy Birthday daddy,” Matt followed suit, clinging to his father, playing with Keanu’s simple, black skinny tie as he hoisted them both on either side of his lips, “Do you like it? It was all Emma’s idea!”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” she admonished lightly when Keanu glanced to her, “I had a couple of excellent co planners,” tentatively, Emma finally approached them, her heels clicking quietly on the cream marble floors, “We just wanted to do something special for you.”

The warmth in his heart was reflected in his expression, and if his arms weren’t so full, he’d definitely lean in to pull Emma in a consuming hug, “Thank you,” it had been a while since anyone put that much effort into his birthday, the older he got, the less he’d want his family to do, and it went without saying that Miranda was never big on getting him anything more than a cushy present. In fact, usually, Keanu would be inclined to spend his birthday with just his children, watching movies with them on the sofa after a take out dinner. The quiet affairs never bothered him, he'd had enough parties and glitzy birthdays in his twenties and thirties, and was wholly ready to continue on with smaller, more intimate ones.

When he set the kids down, Keanu placed a hand on her elbow, still an arm's length away, leaning in to peck her cheek, "This is amazing, I can't tell you how much it means." When Keanu pulled away, despite his efforts not to stare, he found himself doing it anyway, absorbing the way her burnt orange sweater dress hugged every curve perfectly, boasting her legs when the hem cut off mid thigh. Her hair fell in voluminous waves down to the center of Emma’s back, framing her delicate features, and her simple, clean cut make-up accentuated her full lips and dark eyes. “And you,” Keanu stuttered, affectionately squeezed her elbow, “Look beautiful.”

Caught off guard, Emma blinked quickly, her deep burgundy lips moving to form words but never quite making it through any. “Oh!” A wider smile threatened to break through just as the apples of her cheeks unintentionally went red, “Thank you,” she took a step back and Keanu took that as a sign to reluctantly retract his touch. “Uh,” stuttering again, she looked around wildly, not really sure who’d done the initial overstepping but knowing that someone had to put an end to it, “Why don’t we sit? Yeah, you still have to blow out your candles and open your presents.”

“We can’t wait for you to see what we got you daddy!” Poppy jumped excitedly, a few raven strands escaping the braid Emma had put her hair in, falling over her face as she clapped small her hands. Without settling down in the slightest, she grabbed Keanu’s hand, the size of hers almost muted by his larger, rougher one as Poppy pulled her father towards the sofa, urging him to sit before hopping into his lap. Looking on, Emma offered her hand to Matt, leading him to the chair as well, trying not to think of how much she wanted something like that one day. The real deal, not just a pseudo family, where it felt like she was getting paid to play house, but a husband with children of her own who adored her as much as Matt and Poppy did Keanu.

Leaving a healthy, safe distance between them, Emma claimed a spot on the long sofa, chuckling when Matt mirrored his sister and situated himself in her lap, squirming in anticipation. “So,” securing the boy, she wrapped a slender arm around him, gently flattening her palm to his chest so he wouldn’t fall with all the movement he was doing, “What’ll it be birthday boy? Cake or presents first?”

“What do you two think?” Keanu bent forward to look at both his children, laughing softly when they both bounced in their places, cheering that he go with cake first. “Cake it is,” he determined, and soon after, Emma was reaching for the lighter on the table, keeping Matt away from the flame as she lit the tall candles strategically sunken into the cake, among the cluster of raspberries decorating the top. When all five were lit, Emma and the kids sang happy birthday, clapping when he blew out the candles. Afterwards, she cut them each a slice, and between bites, they moved on with presents.

Up first was the one that Emma had helped organize for Matt and Poppy to give him; they had done most of the the work while she’d simply provided guidance and occasionally, assistance. They’d chosen to make their father a picture frame, using popsicle sticks and colorful craft items, and it had turned out wonderfully, the neatly arranged painted, sticks decorated with buttons, cut out shapes made of plastic, and ribbon had a picture of Keanu and the twins on the inside. “I love it!” He hugged them tight, kissing their heads, still staring at his present. Even off to the side, Emma could see the softness in his eyes, the warmth clinging to his features, there wasn’t the slightest bit of untruth when Keanu said he’d loved the gift, and she admired him for it. A celebrity, who could probably buy anything he wanted at any given moment, appreciating a sweet, handmade gift as if the world had been served on a silver platter. “This is the best present ever!” Keanu hugged them again, keeping Matt and Poppy close.

It was only when he’d released them, did Emma present him with her gift, wrapped up in a blue and white polka dot box, held closed by white silk ribbon, “This one is from me,” her shy smile faltered when their hands touched, and she he'd her breath, hoping he’d like it.

Giving the edge of the ribbon a tug, Keanu undid the bow, opening the box. His jaw hung slack in breathless awe, and trying to be as gentle as possible, he reached into the box’s depths, producing an exact replica of the bike he rode to work almost every morning. It had been spray painted in the exact same colors, carried a downsized version of the very same details and even had a tiny license plate with his initials engraved onto it, “Em…” he gasped, running his fingers over the perfectly mimicked details, “This is….wow,” he huffed a chuckled.

Dragging her lip through her teeth, Emma searched his features, “Do you like it?” She probed nervously.

“Like it?” He glanced up at her, his emotions spilling out in just the way he looked at her, “I love it,” he chuckled louder, “Emma,” Keanu set his gift down on the coffee table, reaching for her bare knee with the hand that wasn’t holding Poppy close, “It’s so thoughtful of you.” The smile brightened his rugged, somewhat tired features as he added, "I love it."

"Great," Emma tried not to look him straight in the eye, knowing if she did, she might be wholly responsible for what happened next. His touch, warm on her thigh, squeezing affectionately, sent shivers up her spine and Emma was caught between wondering how things might have escalated if they were alone and thinking that it was time to pull away. "I'm glad you like it," even if she knew she'd already let his touch linger for far too long, Emma placed her hand over his, and faintly, she heard Keanu's breath hitch as his eyes widened slightly.

They both knew that at that point, their position wasn't unintentional, yet, before either of them could act, they were interrupted by Poppy stretching sleepily, admitting that she was tired. In an instant, whenever they were sharing had been broken, the moment was gone. Leaving them blinking quickly, seemingly emerging from a trance, and prompting them to get the kids ready for bed.

That night, Keanu helped Emma out with bedtime rituals, sticking around during bath time all the way through until they informed him that they wanted Emma to read to them before lights out. It was nearly eleven when she finally emerged from the hallway, shoes clicking softly until she finally decided that they were too much noise, nudging them off with her toes and resuming her small stature. “Hey,” she smiled tightly, calling Keanu’s attention as he stood at the floor to ceiling window, nursing something far stiffer than cider, the glittering lights of illuminated the Eiffel Tower casting a yellow glow on his face, the only thing brightening the room after he’d dimmed the lights.

“Hi,” he grinned widely, the way he always did when Emma walked into the room, “Whiskey?” He offered, moving to the mini bar, ready to get her a drink.

“Sure,” in minutes, Keanu was approaching her, offering Emma the glass he’d gotten, their fingers once again brushing during the hand off. That time, they both just huffed shyly, pretending to ignore it as they approached the window, staring in silence for a while, until Keanu scoffed a chuckle. “What?” Turning to him, Emma observed his profile, wondering if people were even supposed to be made that perfect.

“Its just,” shrugging, Keanu punctuated his words with a brief sip of his drink, not even hissing at its strength, “It’s almost over. Another year gone.” He seemed pensive, his thoughts colliding and confusing him; she’d never seen him in that light and all Emma wanted to do was help.

The alcohol burnt her throat as it slid down, and unlike Keanu, it showed on Emma’s face, though, it created a familiar warmth in her belly, one that she liked; even if she was quickly going to learn that it wasn’t just breaking the autumn chill, but also ebbing away her inhibitions. “You sound disappointed,” and when Keanu didn’t offer a response, she gently pressed, “Are you?”

Shaking his head, Keanu downed the rest of his whiskey, wincing slightly and discarding his glass on the top of a nearby accent chest, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned to face her. His tie was loosened at the neck and before the twins’ bath, Keanu had discarded his blazer on the chair nearby. He was striking, even when he was close to disheveled. “I don’t know,” the disconcertment echoed in his tone, “Do you ever think that you’re doing the right thing, but then…...there’s one little change, and suddenly it feels like you’re making a huge mistake?”

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Emma tried to decipher the true meaning behind his words, opting for an analogy when she couldn’t, “When I first started college, I knew exactly what I wanted; I wanted to be a designer,” she smiled wistfully, “And my nana always taught me to go after what I wanted, even if it was silly to everyone else. So I started fashion school, but then the fees started to take a toll on my mom’s finances, and even if I got two part time jobs, it still didn’t save me from starting to sink.” Emma sighed deeply, looking out towards the city again, “The circumstances changed, or maybe I just noticed them for the first time, and suddenly, going to fashion school seemed selfish, like I’d made a terrible decision, a huge mistake. But when I told my nana what I was thinking, she asked me where I saw myself in ten years and……..that’s how I knew I had to stay.”

Knitting his brows, Keanu seemed more perplexed than when they’d started their conversation, “I don’t understand,” his voice was gruff and low and he hung on, waiting for her explanation,

Sighing, Emma’s contemplative soiree softened, “I guess it meant, if you’re sure about something, if you know it’s right in your heart, then even if things get in the way, you’ll find your way back to it. We’re constantly searching for happiness, and what’s right is always so……subjective. But if you know it's right in here,” stepping closer, Emma gently tapped Keanu’s chest, “Then even if it wavers here,” her cool fingers rose to his temple, “You’ll always go back to it.” Like Keanu, Emma finished off her drink, leaning past him to leave her glass next to his, her other hand still on his face, then cupping his cheek.

“What if……” He mulled on his words, letting them rattle around in his mind fitfully before spilling, “What if what makes me happy, and what’s right in here,” he reached out, pressing two fingers to the center of Y/n’s chest, just above her breasts though still where he could feel her heartbeat, “Are two different things?”

A lump had settled in her throat and a minute part of Y/n knew where things were going, while everywhere else screamed that they shouldn’t have gotten there in the first place. Keanu was her boss, her engaged boss. Yet still, she couldn’t find it in herself to tear her hand away from his face, or push him off her. “They’re always the same thing,” sparing the city of love one last glance, Emma shifted her sights to Keanu, stoking the apple of his cheek, marveling at the way he tilted into the softness of her hand and barely noticing the way his hand had slid up to cup her neck. “Maybe you’re confused right now, but they're always the same.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Keanu confessed, closing the final inches of space. They were lost in each other’s stares and at that point, there was probably nothing in the world that could push them apart. With his hand on her neck, she could feel his callouses and his warmth, radiating, doing more than the finest spirits ever could. The cloud of air between them was tainted with the aroma of expensive booze, still clinging to their hot breaths, mingling with the smell of smoked cigarettes and the alluring fragrance of Emma’s perfume. With every exhale, their chests touched, ever so slightly.

“What do you want?” Emma nudged, licking her lips when Keanu’s face drew closer, tilting her head so she’d grant him access, anticipating what would happen next.

“I want…….” He furrowed his brows again, “I want to be happy.”

“Then be happy,” and that was all it took; the final thread snapped and her words were the permission he’d been seeking. And though, all along, Emma sensed it would happen, when Keanu’s lips were finally laid on hers, she was completely and utterly surprised. They started slow, locking and moving in tandem at a most leisurely pace, though as the pair felt each other out, Keanu’s free hand found the dip of Emma’s waist while she clutched a fistful of his shirt, the silky fabric wrinkling in her grasp, the air took on a new heat and their kiss grew steamy. Six months worth of almosts and boiling tension just swirled around them, pressing them together, and when his tongue broke past her lips, sliding over hers, Emma moaned into Keanu’s mouth.

No one had ever tasted like that, like their lips were meant to spar with hers, no hands ever fit so well on her body. Wrapping his tie around her fist, Emma yanked him closer and they stumbled back. By then their longer, passionate kisses were punctuated by shorter, sweeter pecks, and all she wanted was for him to hoist her up into his strong arms and press her against the cold glass.

Then it hit her; the criminality of what they were doing. Miranda already hated her, and she was going to marry Keanu. That make out session alone was putting her job on the line, the job that she so desperately needed. Logic kicked in and without warning, Emma was letting go of Keanu’s tie and pushing him away. He looked just as frayed as she was, and even a little hurt, “We shouldn’t…...this is wrong. We can’t do this,” Her whispered words were more to convince herself, and before Keanu could respond, Emma was apologizing, turning away from him and scuttling out of the room.

“Em,” he tried to call after her, but it was too late, Emma was already gone, and Keanu had a feeling that things had just gotten way more complicated than he could have ever imagine.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[roseyserpents]

“I Love You”

Summary: love wasn't supposed to be a part of you and Sweet Pea

Warnings: like two swear words

Word count: 1,492

A/N: this is based of I Love You by Billie Eilish. I wrote this in literally an hour so don't blame me if it's bad

The concept of loving someone had always scared you both. That's why neither of you had been in a real relationship. That's also why you and Sweet Pea had become friends. You knew nothing would happen because catching feelings just wasn't something you did. It wasn't that either of you were cold, or you didn't love your friends, but loving somebody with other feelings involved and being in a relationship didn't work for either of you. So the entirely platonic relationship between the two of you was the safest bet. You'd known Sweet Pea since seventh grade and you'd been best friends ever since, nothing more ever even being a thought.

It's not true

Tell me I've been lied to

Crying isn't like you

What the hell did I do?

Never been the type to

Let someone see right through

There was a four day weekend due to teacher work days, so you and Sweet Pea took the opportunity to pack up a truck with blankets and pillows and food and head to one of the camp sights on the edge of Sweet Water River for a camping trip. You'd gotten there at sunset and set up everything at your sight including string lights you'd insisted on bringing, of course making Sweet Pea hang them up because he could reach the highest branches. The next day was spent with the two of you swimming and laughing, making food and just relaxing in your time off from school with each other.

The day went by fast, and it was now the second night at camp, both of you lying on a blanket next to a tree by the river. A pillow sat under your head as you stared at the sky freckled with twinkling stars up above and you talked quietly to Sweet Pea as if not to destroy the peacefulness of the night. After about a half hour of small words though you'd noticed your conversation was almost entirely one-sided. Confused, you propped yourself up on your elbow and are shocked into silence at what you see. He doesn't meet your eye, keeping his gaze set on the stars as you stare into his eyes. They practically mirrored the sky, dark and twinkling but instead of with beautiful stars there were sad tears pooling in them. A few had slipped down his cheeks leaving behind streams that glimmered in the warm light from the string lights set up a few feet away. He was bitting his lip probably to muffle a cry that was trying to escape with the tears.

"Pea?" You finally say, lying your hand on his arm. His eyes squeeze shut at your touch, another tear rolling down his cheeks and onto the fabric of the blanket. You were worried. Scared, even. No one had ever seen the Sweet Pea cry, not even you or Fangs or Toni. He didn't let people see what was happening behind the scenes in his head because he put on the act of being big and tough. There was a heavy door for say blocking anyone from getting a glimpse, but here he was, all of his emotions clear as day for you to see. Why was he crying all of a sudden? Did you do something? Say something?

Maybe won't you take it back

Say you were tryna make me laugh

And nothing has to change today

You didn't mean to say "I love you"

I love you and I don't want to

"What's wrong?" You ask as he opens his eyes. He doesn't reply right away, staying painfully silent for another minute though it feels like an eternity before he finally answers.

"I love you." He says, voice hoarse from crying. "I love you and I don't want to."

It's as if everything around you freezes and goes silent. It feels like a hand had gripped your heart and squeezed forcing you to go still. Love. That word scared the shit out of both of you, so why did he say it? That was the promise with your friendship, that neither of you would catch feelings because that wasn't what you did. Maybe in a few seconds he would start laughing and say it was a joke, take back the word that couldn't be possible. Nothing between you has to change, you just stay close friends and the L word never happened. But a minute passed, then two, and then five and he didn't say anything. He didn't take it back, he just stared at the stars that watched the turning point in your relationship with silent watchful gazes.

"No you don't." You said in a whisper mostly to yourself rather than him. "You can't."

"That's what I thought." He says with a small, sad smile.

You stare at him in more stunned silence. He loved you. Love. He had to have been lying. Love was scary and messy and it wasn't what you two had. It couldn't be.

Up all night on another red eye

I wish we never learned to fly

Maybe we should just try

To tell ourselves a good lie

I didn't mean to make you cry

"I thought about it awhile. I wondered why I felt butterflies every time I saw you or every time you laughed or smiled at me. And then it just popped into my head. When I realized what it was I cried for the first time in years. I wished we'd never gotten close enough for it to happen." Sweet Pea says, glancing at you every now and then, but he wasn't able to watch your reaction. He didn't want to see you trying to break away from him. Like he knew you probably were, fleeing from his confessions.

"Maybe... Maybe we can just pretend you don't." You say, small hope in your voice. "Nothing has to change, we just have to lie to ourselves. I don't want you to cry over me."

The smile that you gave me

Even when you felt like dying

Sweet Pea smiles. He smiles even though everything around you, the warm comfortable friendship you'd built with trust and care and kindness and memories came crashing down. He sits up like you and stares at his lap for a moment leaving you to think about that smile. He smiled at you even though you were crushing him. He probably felt like dying for loving his best friend in a way best friends shouldn't, but he still gave you a smile to try to make you feel better. The simple smile confirmed his words much to your worst fears that he was in love with you. What did you do? How did you make this happen? Could you go back and change something and make it so this didn't happen?

We fall apart as it gets dark

I'm in your arms in Central Park

There's nothing you could do or say

I can't escape the way, I love you

I don't want to, but I love you

You pull Sweet Pea into a hug, his arms immediately wrapping around you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm tears slipping down onto your shoulder. He shuddered against you as he held you tighter, his arms giving you a gentle squeeze. You fall apart against each other and try not to focus on it as your bond does the same. Somehow you knew there was nothing you could do or say that could change the way he felt or how it happened. You knew he couldn't just unlove someone because that's what scared you both most about love, how strong it was. You can't escape it and you can't change it. It has the power to destroy friendships and bonds and turn the closest of people into awkward strangers. You don't have control over love because it chooses itself who it associates itself with, and leaves those people to watch hopelessly as they fall into love. Maybe that's why it's called falling. You fall into love because as soon as you slip even if it's only a little bit you go tumbling down the hill, beating yourself up and tearing yourself apart as you go while trying not to let them see. Sweet Pea slipped and now you were seeing him at the bottom from the top, seeing him torn and tears staining his cheeks.

And suddenly, it happens all at once. A small slip and then butterflies. They swarm into your stomach and heart, their wings clouding your thoughts as you physically feel yourself tumbling down an imaginary hill. Twigs and rocks cut and poke at your heart as it speeds up its once even beating. Every where Sweet Peas body touched yours felt hot and clammy, your mind shutting down and setting off distress signals. It projects one more clear thought before going dark, leaving you frozen in fear.

You love him.

Taglist: @batfam16

[grav3yardbb92]

The Mark

Micheal X reader. Also on my wattpad account. BVB-rebel25.

********

It was never a secret, what I am. More like a bedtime story told by my mother every night since I was born. But unlike most bedtime stories, it was true, proven by the mark on my wrist.

Now that, as I was told, needed to be kept secret. If people saw a burn mark in the shape of a pentagram, who knows what could happen. Not that I would get hurt or anything, Satan had a purpose for me. A true, dark destiny, one I am honored to accept.

The ultimate proof of my purpose were the dreams. They started when I turned 16. The night of my birthday, I had the dream. I saw a boy. Maybe six or seven. He pins a dead rat to a wall, watching it's blood drip stains of red. He giggles cutely before running away, into a bedroom, painted blue. I see him lay in his bed, a slowly drift to sleep. In only seconds. The dark night, becomes bright as the sun shines through the window, illuminating his face. The gorgeous, carefully sculpted features of not a six year old, but a teen, about sixteen. He is still sound asleep, but turns to his left side and his soft golden curls are stretched away from his ear. That is when I see it. The burn, similar to mine, but he's no demon. He's the Antichrist.

Night after night, year after year the dreams occur. But they aren't dreams. They are visions, his life. As his chosen guardian, soul mate and future Queen of hell, I get to watch from afar as he goes on his course. I have to be sure he finds his purpose and follows the plan.

According to the plan, I finally met the 'man' of my dreams through my next door neighbor and my mother's best friend and fellow believer in Satan. Mrs, Mead was the only  person, beside my parents and I who had seen the mark, she knew who I was and she addored me. When she was on her way home with him, she called my mother, who had me clean up and doll up, wanting to look the part. I've seen him, watched him, I know all there is to know about him, both sides, human and supernatural being. I know what he wants. I know what he needs. Me.

He simply smiled and waved. When we were introduced. But his expression changed to a smirk, when my mark was brought to his attention. He then took my hand, kissing my mark gently, before pulling me roughly, toward him. In his tight embrace, I could feel it, the tug at my heart, at my soul, and in his deep, blue eyes, I could tell he felt it too. We are one.

******

It's been weeks since Michael and I joined the survivors in outpost 3. The familiar building where he lived for a short time, studying under the warlocks, where he used to sneak me in after dark, just so I can sneak back out into the woods, before he was called to begin his studies. The very same school building, where I joined him in slautering the warlocks.  Every. Last. One.

I am currently pacing the floor and rubbing my swollen, pregnant belly in his old room.the very same room where we spent many nights together. Where we made love, usually covered in our own blood,  after summoning his Father for advice and reassurance.  The same room where we chanted the satanic vows, bonding us in marriage under satan.

There is a party going on just downstairs. A party that I helped plan. The party that I so desperately wanted to observe. The party that is bringing the end of the few final lives here on earth.

I hear the familiar clank of a cane, signaling miss. Veneble and our robotic Mrs Meade approaching our room. They enter and miss. Veneble threatens mine and Michaels lives. I smirk and giggle lightly as Micheal's deep laugh thunders through the room. Moments later, veneble's body is laying in a puddle of blood on the floor. And Micheal takes a moment to clear the intentional fog that blocks Mrs. Meade's programing.

he finishes his explanation and Meade, pulls us both into a warm, familiar hug. The moment is suddenly disturbed by a feeling that I hoped to never have again. I steal a glance toward my husband, who doesn't have to read my mind, to know what's happening. " those damn witches!" +

********time skip*******

An evil laugh escapes my lips as I watch Micheal snaps the neck of that mouthy witch.  We haven't had this much fun since we slaughtered the survivors in the other outpost. He smiles at me, knowing what must occur next. I blow him a quick kiss, before following the other witches toward the bathroom. They think their plan is fool proof. But my Master has a backup plan. ME!

********************

I find a spot in the hallway, just outside the bathroom, where Mallory soaks in the tub, awaiting her full power to appear. I hear Cordelia talking to Micheal from below me, I chuckle at our hidden joke. God isn't the only one who knows what's in the future. I close my eyes, sending a final ' I love you' through my mind. I know he got the message, and I begin my ritual.

I pull my dagger from my leather boot and slice my arm, just as I hear Cordelia curse at Michael before I hear her body thump to the ground. I paint our symbol with my blood as I chant the sacred mantra that I memorized as a child. Within seconds my eyes flutter shut and darkness consumes me.

I come to my senses and sit up, leaning against a tree, for support. I am feeling dizxy and weak, time travel and blood loss does that. And I know that I need to gather my strength for the next step. I rub my belly again, soothing my Antichrist offspring, and I take notice of my surroundings. Just to my left is the infamous murder house, which means Michael is just across the street. My attention turns toward the sound of a door slamming shut, revealing my Michael, well not mine, this one is a few years younger, much younger than I am now, but my spell will take care of that.

I stand up, but stay by the tree to brace myself for the inevitable events. I know what's coming and I also know that I can't stop it, they have to think they've won. I hear the loud roar of a car engine and fight back the urge to push my love out of the way. I know the plan. ' stay calm, it will work' I whisper to myself, my child kicks at the sound of my voice, reminding me I'm not alone as I watch in horror. Mallory slams on her breaks before backing up, crushing Michael not once but three fucking times. Constance notices, but remains still until the car is long gone. I remain in my place as she moves to attend to Micheal's mangled body. " go to hell" she seethes out, dropping him back in the road.

" you first bitch!" I shout as I make my way to him, dragging from the road. I then mumble a curse of sickness and painful death, before I turn my attention to the dying boy before me. I perch on the sidewalk, pulling his head into my lap." Time for rebirth, my love" I whisper, before I recite another incantation while I slowly move my hands across his body. I hear his bones snap back into place, and watch as bloody cuts and even small scrapes vanish.

He takes in a deep gasp for air, shifting slightly, before sitting up completely. He takes a short look at me, before hugging !me tightly. Oh how I missed this, it's only been a few hours since we last embraced each other, but it felt like decades. He pulls away, only now realizing he's hugging a complete stranger.

" who are you? What happened?" He rapidly fires questions at me. My name is Y/N. I saw what happened and needed to help." I respond, waiting for him to ask me how I healed him. " but, how did you? " there it is. " I promise. Everything will make since soon, just trust me, Michael " at the mention of his name, which I shouldn't know, his brows crinkle in confusion, but he doesn't question it " well, Y/N, you did just save me, so of course I trust you." " good" I say, pulling him to his feet. " one more thing" he only looks at me, waiting for me to continue. " you need to kiss me"

He is hesitant at first, but our lips soon connect. After that I feel the same electric pull of our souls that I felt, so long ago, in another life. The kiss ends, but continue to hold him close as the memories of our past life, floods through his head. His eyes widen and I close mine to summon all my strength for last part. Whispering some words, a poem of lost love, before opening them again. Instead of a young teenage boy, I see my husband before me, his long golden hair falling past his shoulders.

He looks down at my belly, and he lightly mesages it. Smiling widely at me, before pulling me into a tight hug. " oh. My demon girl, how ive missed you" he whispers as he ushers me down the sidewalk. I cant help steal glances at him, in all his glory.Now looking the proper age, to father the new Antichrist. I told you our MASTER had a plan.