#and his heart shatters even though he already thought he didn’t have a chance with him

[sejarcus-archive]

Dorothea modern Sejarcus au, in which they were childhood best friends but they fell out of touch, and now Sejanus is a famous dancer traveling across the country, and Marcus watches his success grow from afar, wishing they could still be part of each other’s lives

[sky-is-the-limit]

How Task Force 141 would react to you breaking up with them because of their job:

Captain Price:

He’d take the news like a hit to the chest even though he’d nod as if he’d already accepted it.

The words would catch in his throat but he’d steady himself, holding onto every last thread of composure as he listened, eyes cast down on the space between you.

''I can’t blame you.'' He'd murmur, forcing a small, understanding smile. ''Not for this.''

The sadness in his blue eyes would betray him, though, no amount of practice could keep that pain out.

''Just… if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.'' His hand would linger beside yours, close but never quite reaching.

As you walked away, he wouldn’t move, not for a long while.

He would sit in the dark later that night, staring at the door, almost waiting for you to come back but deep down, he knew you wouldn’t.

Later, when he finally got into bed, he’d let the thought of you be his last and the memory of your smile his only comfort. He’d never say it aloud but part of him was already thinking about retiring.

Maybe this was it, a sign to leave it all behind, to make this mission his last and if he made it back? He’d come straight to your door, ready to give it one more try, no matter how slim the chance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

When you told him, his face would twist with disbelief, hurt, anger all colliding into a storm he couldn’t contain.

''You knew who I was..'' He’d say, his hands running through his hair as if trying to release the frustration building inside him.

"So why now? Now when I can’t fucking imagine my life without you?"

He’d demand answers, his voice rising with each one and the hurt too raw to mask, searching your eyes like he could find a reason that made it hurt less.

In the end, when he saw the finality in your face, something inside him would deflate to leave only silence as he drove you home, his grip on the wheel seeming like it hurts and the weight of each passing second sinking deep into his bones like bullets. If not worse.

That night, he’d take out his anger on the punching bag, knuckles bruising until the pain became a welcome numbness.

After every mission, though, he’d still reach for his phone, typing anyway. 'Home safe.' It was always the same and you wouldn’t respond.

Days would pass but he’d still text, still send pictures of things he found that reminded him of you. Small things. Little pieces of you that he couldn’t let go of. He’d call, just to hear your voice even though he knew you weren’t going to pick up.

At night, in the quiet of his apartment, he’d let himself sink into the scent of you that still lingered in his sheets, imagining what it would be like to have you back even if it was just for one night.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Johnny’s heart would shatter into pieces the moment you said it. He'd try to smile but the effort was weak, failing him completely as his chest tightened.

"I get it, lass." He’d say, eyes full of the pain he tried so hard to hide so you wouldn't feel guilty. "I’d go mad if it was you out there." But that didn’t stop the deep pit of panic from swallowing him whole.

How can he wake up or go to sleep without you?

''I just…'' He’d hesitate, tears threatening to fall. ''I can’t blame you.''

But damn it, he wanted to. He wanted to yell, to scream, to tell you not to leave, that he’d do anything, anything to make it work but he couldn’t. Not like this.

So instead, he’d pull you into his arms, letting himself feel the warmth of your body, the one thing he could hold onto even if it was just for a few more minutes. His lips would find yours, slow and desperate, tasting you like it was the last time.

One kiss would turn into two and another until you both found yourselves in bed, clinging to each other with a desperation that made it feel like the world would shatter and burn when you let go.

By morning, he’d be gone, leaving his cross on the nightstand. The only physical thing he could bear to leave behind.

He’d walk out into the early dawn, each step heavier than the last, knowing he’d left his heart back with you, a piece of himself he’d never get back. Not that he wanted to.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He would expect it. He knew from the start that loving him would only end in pain but even though he saw it coming, nothing prepared him for how it would feel when you finally said the cursed words.

''I always knew it would end like this.'' He’d say, his tone flat but underneath it, there was a world of despair.

He wouldn’t beg nor try to change your mind. He couldn’t, not when he already knew how this story ends. Yet when you asked him to look at you, truly look at you, he’d turn his face and that’s when you’d see the truth in his eyes.

That pain that he’d buried so deep. ''I don’t expect you to wait. I don’t want you to bury me.''

He wouldn’t say anything else after that but you’d feel it in the silence that stretched between you both, that there was so much he wanted to confess to you but wouldn't dare.

He’d drive you to your friend’s place, eyes locked on the road ahead, and when he stopped, he’d glance over, just once and say, ''I’ll pack your things so you don’t have to come back.''

Before you could walk away one last time, his voice would crack just slightly. ''After you… there’s no one else.''

And that would be the last time you’d see him. He’d drive off, the emptiness of his heart trailing behind him and when you were out of sight, he’d finally let the tears fall.

[peppertoastuniverse]

chameleon – geto suguru x reader

contents: geto suguru x gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, lots of internal conflict, suguru calls you love, it's complicated lol summary: still crippled by suguru’s defection 10 years ago, you’re conflicted when he appears out of the blue. after all these years, is he still the love of your life? wc: 1.2k

“so, you don’t get to ask me that question,” you whisper brokenly, resolve crumbling. “i had to leave. I couldn’t just stand by and watch while they –“ you scoff. when was it this hard to talk to him? why was he trying to explain things that you already knew?

you hesitantly swallow the lump in throat. how.. why was he here? he carried himself in the same confident manner, his stride echoing in your empty cavity – a place he once called home, the crime scene of his theft years ago. his smile was different, but in his domineering presence you think that you see something that you’ve forced yourself to forget.  he coos your name as he moves closer to you, emerging from the shadows with a greeting dancing on his lips. the same lips that you memorized.  the sound of your unsteady breathing invading your mind. why was he here? he couldn’t be here.

blinking rapidly, you made a point to avoid looking into his amethyst eyes. if you showed a moment of weakness, if you dared to look into the eye of the storm you knew that there would be no chance for you. you would be swept up in his chaos and you were afraid that you would be tempted to walk in his rain. he easily broke down your walls ten years ago, and deep down you knew that he could carelessly take a sledgehammer to the new ones you’ve build because of his absence.

his cold slender hand finds a way onto your face, gently caressing your chin before using his thumb to force you to look up him.

“ah, have you forgotten about me already?”

he looked so different. his cheeks hollowed out, losing the baby fat that adorned his face when he used to smile down at you under your covers. dark hair once tied up so neatly, now fell in waves behind him. you wondered if he remembered the time where you begged him to braid his hair, suguru giving into you easily as he always has. his frame easily slotting between your legs, your warm fingers combing soothingly through his shattering thoughts, how he’d shyly smile as you’d chatter on about your day. looking at the man in front of you, his frame grew wider, shoulders stronger, body filling out his once lanky height. perhaps his shoulders remembered when you’d cling to them at night, how he would instinctively take you in his arms where you imprinted your heart on top of his.

he looked so different and yet you still recognized him. it’s hard to forget someone when they were once yours.

“hm?” he asks, waiting for an answer, moving to stroke your cheek. suguru always played dirty and with you it was no exception. he flexed his power when he could. the familiar action snaps you back into reality, reminding you of the sound of what was left of your breaking heart.

“you fucking left, geto,” you spit out, slapping his hand away from your face, not missing the way his eyes widen ever so slightly.  geto. he was never geto to you, never. even when you fought, it was always suguru, or baby. he didn’t know a geto when it came from your lips. he frowns in displeasure.

“you left.” lightly shoving his chest with your shaking hands, control dissolving into the night air. “without telling anyone –  even satoru!” moving to beat his firm chest, as if to distract him from the hurt in your voice. “do you even know what you put him though? what you put us through?”

 “all because you left in the middle of the fucking night.” another weighted punch, echoing in suguru’s empty chest. reverberating years of hurt into the dark sky.

“without me.” slap. he has the decency to let his control slip, breathing out a subtle shaky sigh.

“…and you show up, what?” you scoff incredulously, bitterness lacing your words, catching on your tongue, a tough pill to swallow. “ – years later! years. asking if i’ve forgotten about you?” you laugh humourlessly. suguru thinks that the cold sound doesn’t suit you, to him you were his favourite song. the sound of the cicadas in the morning, the sound of mimiko and nanako's laughter, the sound of you confessing your love to him on that night when –

“– like you’re the only thing I think about – that I’ve thought about –  for the past 10 years? even though i’ve tried everything to forget you –“ your voice betrayingly breaks, adding to your frustration. you were breathing heavier now, years of repressed anger running through your veins, possessing you to force out the messy words that you aggressively carved out on your heart every night.

suguru effortlessly catches your shaking hands before they get a chance to land another weak blow to him. holding your smaller hands to rest on his chest, he savours your familiar touch.  ­­­he wasn’t a fool, he knew that you could easily kill him if you wanted to and he would gladly let you – it would have been deserved. “so, you don’t get to ask me that question,” you whisper brokenly, resolve crumbling.

“i had to leave. I couldn’t just stand by and watch while they –“ you scoff. when was it this hard to talk to him? why was he trying to explain things that you already knew? you didn’t want to hear his thinly veiled excuses –  didn’t he know you anymore? you were the last person who would’ve stopped him from his goals, didn’t he know that? you couldn’t help but be offended by his gross oversight. “it would’ve ruined your life if you came with me. you –”

“you don’t get to make those decisions for me –!” “– you don’t deserve that.” “what and you do?”

“that’s different.” “don’t fucking lie, suguru,” you spit venomously at his audacity. “you can lie to yourself all you want, but not to me.”  

“no,” he breathes, “never to you.” his eyes meet yours for the first time. in his eyes, you see it. you saw every emotion that flickered through his mind, years ago he was easier to read but in the dim moonlight there was a diluted familiarity that made your heart lurch. was he still there? you weren’t strong enough, afraid of making decisions in his presence. afraid of your own thoughts, afraid of betraying yourself. you didn’t know that the boy who kissed you so sweetly in the rain had the capacity to be this cruel.

you feel his thumb brushing away tears that you didn’t know were falling. as his arms wrap around you, you close your eyes, afraid that he’ll remember that he could drown you in his breathing. you sigh as you feel him pushing your body flush to his. a waking memory. you relish in the way he feels around you, a perfect fit then. there was a time in the not so distant past where you hoped and prayed for this very scenario, to be in his arms again. you wondered if the space that you created together remained untouched right where he left it. “i thought about you every day, you know? every fucking day.” he mumbles, more to himself than you,an airing of an admission. your breath hitches. he couldn't do this to you. “i needed to see you.” he says, voice barely above a whisper, thick words hesitant to flow, as if he was weighing them carefully. he was already chastising himself for his greed, but he needed this. he neededyou.

it wasn’t good enough, and part of you thinks it never will be. you were an idiot, this you knew. but you couldn’t help but melt at his words, despite everything, despite all the death and destruction, he came back to you. he found his way back to you.

suguru sighs in relief has he feels your hesitant arms wrap around him in return, gripping his robes tightly, as if to strangle him. you didn’t accept his apology, but you accepted him – just like you always have. you meet his eyes, though physically changed by time, he was still yours. was he? “ I hate you, suguru.” “mhm.. i know, love. i do too.”

a/n: missin' my princess! i feel like im always screaming when i write for suguru lol -- dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[valkyrieromanoff]

👻GHOSTLY ENCOUNTER (+18):  GHOST! ANAKIN SKYWALKER X YOU (day 17 of 31)

synopsis: .You move into a house only to discover that the ghost of the former owner may be too charming for a spirit.

warning:  sexual content, dirty talk, masturbation

 a/n: Hello there, so, I had planned to do all the pg oneshots but then I got carried away with this one, hope you like it💖

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ

ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ

ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ

ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴇʀᴀꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

Moving away from your parents’ house had been a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, it felt like stepping into the independence you’d longed for, but on the other, there was the weight of responsibility—balancing work, studies, bills, and the maintenance of your new space. When you found a quaint little house near the college within your budget, you jumped at the chance. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours, and that was enough.

Your parents helped with the move, spending every last second before nightfall fussing over every detail—whether the fridge was stocked, whether you had enough lightbulbs. By the time they finally left, you found yourself alone in the house for the first time, surrounded by boxes. The silence was both exhilarating and unsettling. You ordered pizza, collapsed onto the couch, and tried to let yourself enjoy the quiet.

But that quiet didn’t last long.

It started with little things: doors creaking in the dead of night, an occasional window rattling without wind, a few misplaced items—your silk nightgown draped across the living room sofa, your lace panties casually hung from the ceiling fan. You laughed it off at first, chalking it up to exhaustion or maybe a vivid dream. But each day, the incidents became harder to ignore. You felt watched, though you couldn’t explain it. The house seemed to have eyes.

Then, one night in the shower, that feeling intensified. The warm water streamed over your body as you hummed, your thoughts drifting, until a prickle of awareness ran down your spine. You weren’t alone. Slowly, cautiously, you turned your head—and there he was. A man, or something like it. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and tousled blond hair, wearing what looked like military clothing. His lips curled into a mischievous smile, and though fear gripped you, your pulse quickened for an entirely different reason.

You screamed, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it around yourself, while hurling a shampoo bottle at him. It passed straight through his form, shattering the mirror behind him. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking.

"First time seeing a ghost?" His voice was low and smooth, with a hint of amusement, the Canadian accent making him sound both charming and dangerous. "I’m Anakin, doll."

Heart racing, you bolted from the bathroom, your wet feet slipping against the floor as you fled to the guest room. You slammed the door behind you, pressing your back against it. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some college party trick or a hallucination from too many late-night study sessions. You slapped your face, trying to wake yourself from the nightmare.

“Running away already?” His voice, teasing and intimate, came from the bed. He sat there, casual and confident, his ghostly form stretched out as if he owned the place. “You didn’t even give me a chance to introduce myself properly.”

You stared at him, your breath hitching in your throat. He was more than just a ghost—he was magnetic. His gaze lingered on you, taking in every detail of your expression, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks despite the cool air. How could a ghost feel this… alive?

“What do you want?” you managed to ask, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and something else you couldn’t quite place.

Anakin’s smirk deepened as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you want me to leave?”

The way he asked it was playful, but there was a glint in his eye that made your stomach flutter. You hesitated, and he caught it.

“Nah, I’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper. “I’ve been bored to death, and you… well, you’re a lot more interesting than the last tenants. Maybe you could keep me company?”

You swallowed, pressing yourself further against the door. His words hung in the air, layered with an unspoken invitation. There was something about him—about the way his eyes never left yours, the way his voice seemed to curl around your thoughts. He was dangerous, but not in the way you expected. He was seductive.

“And what does keeping you company entail?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost breathless.

Anakin tilted his head, his smile widening as he stood, slowly crossing the room toward you. You knew you should be scared, that this was absurd. But your heart betrayed you, pounding harder with every step he took. His presence, though immaterial, was overwhelming, like he could wrap you in his energy if he wanted.

“Depends,” he whispered as he stopped inches from you, his eyes locking onto yours. “How much fun are you willing to have with a ghost?”

The air between you seemed to thicken, and despite the fact that he wasn’t solid, you swore you could feel the heat radiating from him. It was intoxicating, the way he stood so close, the scent of him faintly lingering in the air, an odd mix of woodsmoke and something distinctly masculine.

His voice, a low rumble that seemed to reverberate through the very air, sent shivers down your spine. "Why don't you show me just how fun you can be?" Anakin suggested, his smoldering gauze never leaving yours.

You felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment washing over you. Taking a deep breath, you nodded and slowly slid your hand under your skirt, feeling the heat of your body radiate through the fabric of your panties.

"Good girl," he purred, his ghostly fingers trailing along your jawline, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "I want you to imagine me touching you, my hands exploring every inch of your body."

You let out a soft moan, your hips rocking slightly as you began to rub yourself through the thin barrier of your underwear. The sensation was electric, and you could feel the dampness growing as your arousal increased.

"That's it," Anakin encouraged, his voice like honey dripping over your skin. "Imagine me kissing you, my lips tracing the curve of your neck, my tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat."

You tilted your head back, exposing your vulnerable neck to him as you continued to touch yourself. Your breathing grew heavier, and you could feel your heart racing as you lost yourself in the fantasy.

"Now, I want you to picture my hands on your breasts, cupping and kneading them," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Your nipples hardening under my touch, wanting to be sucked."

Your fingers moved faster, the heat building within you as you followed his instructions. You loved the way he was guiding you, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed.

"I'm going to move lower now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to imagine my fingers tracing the line of your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties."

You gasped. "That's it, let yourself feel it," Anakin's voice purred in your ear, his ethereal breath ghosting over your neck and sending tingles down your spine. "Imagine my fingers slipping inside you, stroking that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl."

His words painted vivid pictures in your mind, transporting you to a realm of pure pleasure as you obediently followed his lead. Your fingers worked faster, more urgently, slipping beneath the wet fabric to stroke your most intimate places directly.

"You're getting so wet for me already," Anakin groaned, the sound of approval thick in his tone. "I can feel your arousal, taste it in the air. Your body is so responsive, so eager for my touch."

You couldn't hold back the moans spilling from your lips, the coil of tension winding tighter and tighter in your core as Anakin's dirty talk stoked the flames of your desire. Your free hand gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles white, as you rocked your hips into your touch.

"That's my good girl," he praised, his voice a seductive rumble. "Imagine me lavishing attention on your clit now, circling and flicking that sensitive nub until you're writhing and begging for release."

Your fingers moved in quick, tight circles, matching the rhythm he dictated with his sultry words. Sparks of pleasure shot through you, building to a crescendo as Anakin worked you higher and higher.

"Don't hold back," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. "Let go and come for me. I want to feel your pleasure, see you fall apart."

With a cry of ecstasy, your body seized up, back arching as the waves of your climax crashed over you. Your walls clenched around your fingers as you rode out the intense sensations, Anakin's voice urging you on through every pulse and aftershock.

As you slowly floated down from your tall, chest heaving, you felt Anakin's presence envelop you, a comforting warmth seeping into your bones. His chuckle was his spirit. "That was quite a performance, my dear. You're quite the eager student."

His spectral hand caressed your cheek, the tingling sensation of his touch still lingering even after he'd withdrawn. The memory of his voice and the connection you'd shared in that moment left you feeling incredibly satisfied and more than a little lightheaded.

[clerc16]

gorgeous lies

summary: is it a gorgeous lie, or is it just a dreadful truth?

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: a little angst, open ending i guess? cursing, mentions of a rocky relationship

Normally, you didn’t think about the concept of soulmates. It didn’t cross your mind. Until you met Charles; and that changed your whole perspective.

He was always there with you, for you; and you were always there for him. That’s just the way it was.

Relaxing days off were a necessity in your relationship. Calm days spent tangled between white, crisp bedsheets while small, sweet nothings were whispered and short stories were shared. Both of your lives seemed to stop once these days occurred - you were only thinking about each other while the world went on with their lives.

Honesty was very important, too. Both of your promises and words were always fulfilled. It was like an unspeakable vow; it was never really officiated but it was known.

Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

That’s what you thought, until the day you mistook Charles’ phone for yours. You tried unlocking it, but you realised that the Face ID didn’t recognise your face until it was too late.

“mate just tell her u should take a break. it’s better than to lead her on when u don’t even portray ur real feelings” read the text message. You didn’t even know who it was from - maybe Pierre, maybe Joris, maybe Arthur or Lorenzo - and frankly, you didn’t care.

You left as soon as you could. No explanation, no reasoning.

“my love, is everything ok? i’m here if u need me” Charles’ text said. You read it over so many times you memorised it. The fact he easily called you my love when he was unsure of his feelings. The way he easily made you believe him even when he didn’t believe himself.

The way you were so unbelievably attracted to him, like two opposite ends of a magnet, and all that just shattered.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days. And Charles’ phone never got a notification that you responded.

Naturally, he came over to your house after two very long days. When you saw him on your doorstep, you wanted to slam the door in his face. But you didn’t. Instead, you ‘invite’ him in.

“Are you here to lie to me again?” You stammer. His eyebrows furrow as his eyes look deep into yours.

“What?”

“Or are you here to tell me we should take a break?” You continue. His face contorts as he finally understands what you’re referring to.

“My love, it wasn’t what it looked like-” he begins, but you cut him off as you laugh.

“Don’t my love me right now. I’m not stupid. I’m not a child. Just... get it over with, Charles. Please, just go.” You respond, your voice cracking.

Hearing the evident pain in your voice as it cracked caused his heart to crack, too.

And without another word, he was gone. Forever? Possibly.

Days dragged on like years. Days were spent crying; out of sadness, out of guilt, out of regret. They blended into one another but each one of them stuck out, sharp as a pin.

The one day that stood out the most, though, was the final day of a devastating week. Friday.

A knock on your door caused you to groan as you forced yourself off the couch.

“Is this Ms... L/N?” The man at the door asked. You hummed shortly.

“I have a delivery for you,” he says with a small smile as he places a huge bouquet of your favourite flower on your front door. You thank him as you drag it inside.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was Charles.

Attached to the flowers was a note. You sighed as you opened it and began reading.

“Y/N,

I promise, none of this was a lie. Well, maybe some of it. But none of it was negative, I swear. It may seem like it was all a lie, but it wasn’t. Everytime I called you my love or told you I love you wasn’t a lie. None of it was. Please give me a chance to explain. I owe you an explanation, please let me do it.

I love you, I swear.

- Charles.”

You sigh once more as you fold up the note, the decision already clear in your mind.

thank you for reading! i hope this was worth it, please don’t be a ghost reader :)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Should have told her

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Synopsis: While being secretely in love with you since joining Jujutsu High, Nanami never admitted his feelings to you. Only after you nearly die in a fight and are on the brink of death, he begins to realize how much you really mean to him

Warnings: injury, death, language

This is not fair. You are such a talented jujutsu sorcerer, your abilities even surpass his own. But apparently, not even your skills were enough to save you from getting severely injured.

They said it would be a grade 1, a curse you could eat for breakfast. Maybe a few hours and you’d be back. Yes, absolutely no problem for a grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer like yourself, Nanami knew that all too well and trusted you when you smiled with nothing but determination and confidence at him before leaving.

But it wasn’t a grade 1. A special grade curse appeared. You fought back with all your abilities, ready to die on the battlefield in order to exorcise it and safe over a hundred people from certain death. But that was too much for you. Satoru came just in time before you got punctured and ultimately killed. Yes, he saved your usually so efficient ass from certain death. And now you’re laying here, unconscious since exactly 7 days, 3 hours and 18 seconds. Unconscious and severely injured, on the brink of death.

“You need some sleep, Nanami. (y/n) won’t be helped if you collapse next to her bed”, Shoko suggests, her very own tired eyes filled with concern when looking at your lifeless frame.

She thought you’ll die the second she laid eyes on the severe wounds that almost pierced your abdomen in half. You were lucky that Satoru brought you here so fast. One minute more and you’d be dead by now. God, the look on Nanami’s face when he caught a glimpse of you, covered in your own blood and hanging from Satoru’s arms like you already took your last breath. It broke her heart seeing him like this, completely shattered by sighting the woman who everyone knows he secretly loves since joining Jujutsu High like that.

“It was a special curse. How is that possible, Shoko?”, he groans, head hanging in his nape.

“I should have just gone with her.”

“No one but Satoru would have been able to help her out. You know that”, Shoko reminds him.

“It’s like back then. I can only watch and stare in awe”, he mutters through the towel that covers his face.

Shoko’s heart skips a beat. She knows exactly what he’s referring to. They always knew the incident from a few years ago still haunts him. How devastating it must be for him to go through all of this again, to see you in the same situation, not sure if you’ll make it.

“Unlike then, we can save (y/n) now. I’ll do anything to make her survive.”

Back then, Nanami had no chance to protect Haibara from certain death. You were so devastated when you found out your classmate didn’t make it, the two of you were like siblings. Always confident, constantly optimistic and cheerful. And even though Nanami would never admit it, he constantly admired both of you for the ability to stay positive in a world this cruel and unforgiving. Fuck, he should have told you how he felt, that your smile makes his world stand still and that he adores the way you embrace his left arm when walking next to him, the touch sending shivers down his spine since more than 10 years. He should have told you way earlier that he can’t get you out of his head, not even after he ran away in an office job to escape his feelings. You are the light in his life, one of the striking reasons why he returned to be a jujutsu sorcerer. But right now, this light seems to slowly fade away, without him telling you a single word about his true feelings towards you.

“I should have told her!”, he cries out, jumps out of his chair and throws it across the room.

Maybe it’s too late now. Even when you wake up, you may not be able to recognize him. Or maybe you don’t want to see him anymore.

“Let’s eat some cookies when I return, yeah?”

“(y/n), I certainly won’t waste my day eating cookies with you.”

“Too bad, but more for me. See ya!”

Oh, how badly he wants to eat cookies by your side right now. Nanami would give everything to sit with you on an abandoned bench away from the hustle and bustle of Jujutsu High, hold you in his arms and watch you eat, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. And you loved sunsets, the ones that paint the sky blood-colored.

“Looks like apocalypse”, you always commented, completely mesmerized by the play of colors above your head.

What he would give to hear your voice calling his name once again, nobody pronounces it like you do.

“Nanami, there you are!”

Woah, Nanami, that suit makes you look like a snack!”

“Ohh, don’t look at me with those eyes Nanami, I know you are thrilled to see me!”

If you only knew how thrilled he was.  If you only knew how your words make his knees go weak and the tips of his ears heat up in an instant. If you only knew how your sight alone makes his day better, your warm smile following him into his dreams and chasing away his nightmares.

“I bet she already knew for a long time. And that she feels the same”, Shoko rudely interrupts the train of thoughts that rolled over him.

Impossible. How would you know? After all, he did his best to push you away in order to hide his feelings so well that it seemed like he has none. Surely she only says that because she wants to comfort him. Pathetic. Nothing could comfort him expect that you finally open your eyes again.

“She even looks cute when she’s unconscious.”

Satoru’s appearance in the doorframe catches Nanami off guard. What the hell is he doing here? Oh right, he saved you. And you two know each other as long as Nanami knows Gojo himself. Apparently even Satoru cares enough about you to check on you.

“How’s she doin’?”

“Not much changed. Her heartbeat is stable and her wounds are taken care of. It is up to her if and when she wakes up again”, Shoko briefly explains.

“If? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s (y/n) were talking about! She’s always been a pain in the ass with her determination and unshakable confidence!”

“How are you able to joke around when she’s laying right there, fighting for her life? Don’t you care about her at all?”, Nanami snaps at him.

Pure anger crawls up his veins. How can he? How can he come here and tear stupid sayings when you possibly won’t make it? Even Satoru should be sad about what happened. After all, he knows you since more than 10 years, the two of you were always joking around.

“I know (y/n) well enough to be aware of the fact that she won’t let herself die from something like that and you should too, Nanami. Trust her with this one.”

“I already trusted her with this fucking mission and that’s how it turned out”, Nanami barks back.

Gojo positions himself next to the puny figure of Nanami, a small smile creeping up his face. Kento must have thought he hid his feelings from the world when in reality, everyone at Jujutsu High knows that he adores you. Even if this incident was tragic, there is perhaps something good about it. Maybe he’s finally realizing how much he cares about you.

“(y/n) would never die without bugging you one last time. After all, she loves you too much for that.”

Nanami’s eyes widen at the sound of Gojo’s words in his ears. You? Loving him? You have always been the sweetest woman around Jujutsu High, the students of the past years constantly falling for your charm, beauty and brain. Fuck, sure you could even have Satoru if you wanted. So, why him?

“Stop making fun of me and get your ass out, Satoru.”

“Grr, so rude! But okay, I’ll leave you alone with your sweetheart. Tell me when she’s awake. See ya!”

And with that, Satoru disappears behind the door as fast as he came, alongside Shoko. Nanami signs and slaps the rag on his face away without heeding it. His gaze falls upon your peaceful face, chest rising and falling at steady pace. Gojo is right, you really do look cute. Like you’re sleeping and throwing your tired eyes at him any moment, revealing your most striking smile when realizing that it’s him even though he doesn’t deserve it. But you won’t wake up. And probably your pain is too much to smirk over it.

He can’t help but rest his head on the soft mattress beside your body and grab your cold hand. You simply can’t die on him. Not now, not when he didn’t tell you about his true feelings yet. God, he is so dumb for gatekeeping this shit since 10 whole years. Why did he always shut himself up when his happiness was right under his nose? Maybe because he firmly believes that you don’t feel the same way. How could you, though? He is the complete opposite of you, quiet when you are loud, serious when you are goofy, negative when you are positive. Yes, the two of you are the definition of contraries. And apart from that, a simple man like him doesn’t deserve a striking woman like you.

His grip around your hand tightens, tears start to pool his eyes. Why did all of this happen? You promised everything would be fine, he even bought you a pack of your favorite double chocolate chip cookies. And now you’re laying here, holding onto for dear life. Nanami is no man of tears or sadness, but when it comes to you…You truly hold the most special place in his soul. If you leave, a part of his heart will die too. Maybe he should quit being a jujutsu sorcerer. Working in an office might suck, but at least he won’t have to go through pain like this.

“Where are my cookies?”

He is immediately pulled back to earth, heart beating out of his chest while gazing at you wide-eyed. You are awake. You just said something. Your beautiful but tired orbs are directed towards him, a small grin creeping up your face.

It’s like Nanami forgets how to breathe for a moment when reality kicks in.

“(y/n)?”, he breathes out.

“I told you you’d eat cookies with me. Knew you couldn’t resist a date night with me”, you mumble with unusual weak voice.

There it is. His name out of your sweet mouth, just like usual. As if nothing ever happened.

He can no longer hold back. Before his head tells him to back up, his hands cup your face and his lips crush into yours. Fuck his thoughts, fuck the others. He will never forgive himself if he never did that, never got to taste the sweetness of your mouth, never held your face like that. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering shut while sparks fly around you. God, how often you whished he did that. For years you loved him in silence, accepted the fact that he might not be interested in you romantically. But even though pain seems to eat you alive and your weak senses are still trying to process that you are awake, you are probably the happiest woman on earth right now.

“Don’t ever do something like that to me again”, he hisses into your lips.

“Not planning to.”

“But if it makes you do this…maybe it’s worth another shot.”

God, your breathtaking smile. Nanami can’t remember a single moment in his life that made him happier than this one, tears rolling down his face carelessly. You are awake. You didn’t forget him. You’ll survive. And you want him too. A striking woman like you really wants a man like Nanami.

“Wish you did this sooner. Or maybe when I don’t feel like dying, y’know?”

“Could have done a move yourself”, he mutters into your neck, arms embracing you gently.

“Oh no, I’m way too shy.”

You melt into his touch. It feels so good to finally feel his arms around you and his body against you apart from rough training sessions. Even though you have no idea why exactly your frame feels like it’s on fire or how you’ve ended up in Shoko’s hospital room in the first place, you aren’t able to question it at the moment. You loved Nanami since meeting him all these years ago, attracted by his abilities, brain, sense of humor and looks.

“How are you feeling? The pain must be really bad”, he comments, eyes scanning your body like a professional.

“Can’t say I ever felt worse. My tummy feels like it’s falling apart”, you reply, a hiss escaping your mouth when he pulls the blanket that covers your body down a little.

“Well, it literally almost fell apart. You were sent to a mission, should have been a grade 1. It was a special, though. Satoru came just in time to safe you. If he had come just a minute later, then…”

A closer look at his face reveals that he hasn’t slept for days. Your heart sinks into your chest. He shouldn’t feel this bad because of you.

“Hey, look at me.”

You lift your weak fingers to caress his face gently, tired eyes gazing over you.

“I feel like shit but I’m fine.”

“I thought you’d die. I-I thought that I’ll…never get to tell you that I love you.”

“I would never die without telling you that I love you too. And without another kiss.”

Nanami can’t help but smile down at you. Down to the woman he loves, the woman who never loses her optimism, to the woman who is so fucking strong that she seems to survive anything. He admires and adores you more than his heart can take. And the fact that you love him too…Is this real? Is he dreaming again? He just has to lean down, lips only inches apart from yours. He needs to taste you again, to make sure that this is real.

“You cryin’, Nanami?”

Both pairs of eyes dart up immediately, your eyes light up when realizing Satoru is standing in the doorframe.

“I’ll kill you, Gojo”, Nanami hisses threatening, cheeks redder than ever.

“Hey shawty”, you greet him, completely mesmerized by the pack of cookies he carries under his arm.

“Please tell me those are for me.”

“Shoko actually forbid me to feed this to you. Something about a hole in your stomach or so. Why are you so irritated, Nanami? Did I steal you the show? He’s your boyfriend now, (y/n)? It really took you 10 years to finally kiss the girl you love, Nanami?”

“He’s my husband”, you explain proudly.

“Get your ass out Satoru”, Nanami moans.

You grab his hand and press it mildly, gazing at the man above you with stars in your eyes. Yes, he is yours now. And you’ll do the devil to let him go again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

*The story would be like *Unter the red hood* where Jason sees the reader when he fights Bruce and Dick… I don't know what to add srry

This song got me into the headspace whilst writing this along with Mr Loverman. 🦦also I’m adding the fact that reader knows Jason during his time as Robin cuz I can.

Jason had taken many things into account with his plan but the one thing he didn’t however was seeing you again, and god were you still as beautiful and or handsome as the least time he saw you, a little worn and tired and yet you were still you; Fierce, powerful, kind, sweet, loving, generous, you.

His Achilles heel, now and forever.

He still remembers the times where he would always go to you whenever he got himself injured from crime fighting with Bruce and was too stubborn to accept medical treatment. He always did prefer your approach to patching him up, scolding him for his sheer recklessness whilst still being tender with his wounds, telling him with sarcasm that you much prefer to have him alive rather then dead at your fire escape.

To which he laughed despite it hurting his fractured ribs. ‘You worry too much about me, buttercup. If I didn’t know any better I would start to think that you care for me more than a friend.’ He teased, nudging you in the side with his good arm. You scoffed but you neither denied nor confirmed that you did in fact care for him more than a friend because you genuinely thought at the time that you would have enough time to tell him.

You were wrong…Jason died not long after.

You grieved hard and for so long afterwards, always sitting on rooftops by yourself whenever you missed him more then most days, only to feel your heart break even harder and before you knew it you were crying, crying your heart out in pain, anger and loss at the very city that ruthlessly took him from you until your throat went hoarse or your eyes had no more tears to shed. You didn’t want to believe that Jason was gone, never to come back and greet you on the fire escape with that cheeky smile despite being conceded in cuts and bruises.

Even now you still look out towards the fire escape whenever you heard a peculiar noise coming from there, thinking that this was the one, this was the moment where everything went back to normal, that you would see Jason again and that everyone was lying to you. Only to be disappointed every single time.

So to be stood here now, across from the man known as RedHood, something about him strikes familiarity in you but yet felt forgein at the same time.

‘Buttercup?’ RedHood asked in disbelief and your eyes widened. Only Jason called you that nickname and when he did, it felt like home. So when RedHood said it, it made you feel the exact same way. ‘Jason?’ You whispered tentatively, almost as though you were expecting for that small glimmer of hope that you desperately held onto to be shattered into a million pieces. ‘You’re alive?’ You added.

‘Came just as a surprise to me too.’ He replied strongly, only for his voice to grow soft when he then said, ‘I’m sorry that we never got enough time…I just thought-‘

‘That we would have enough time?’ You interrupted, smiling at him bitter sweetly, already having had similar enough thoughts yourself. There wasn’t a single moment in your life after his death did you think about whether or not things would’ve played out differently had you told him, or how his death would hurt you even more then it already did had you told him that night.

Now that he was right in front of you, it felt as though far was giving you that chance to find out but you were frozen to the spot. You knew this man was Jason, he was practically telling you with his body that he was but he was too different from everything that had happened to him, he’s been through things that you could only being to imagine.

He was your Jason but he also wasn’t.

‘Yeah.’ Jason said defeatedly, wishing to go back to the night where you first met, two young and naive kids who had no clue of what the future held for them and how it would tear them apart in the worst ways, only to bring them back together in the most unlikely circumstance but this time on opposing sides.

Silence befell you both, allowing for everything to sink in but it didn’t prove in making anything that happened before your fated reunion any better, it didn’t take away the hurt and the grief you felt nor did it take away the pain and the anguish that Jason felt. Seeing each other again didn’t magically heal either of you, if anything it made you incredibly numb to anything and everything that could possibly come next.

‘Nightshade, any visual on the RedHood?’ Bruce asked through the intercom and just like that the peace was shattered and the reason why you were here in the first place was revitalised. ‘Negative Batman. I lost him after he blindsided me.’ You replied, eyes still locked onto to Jason as you headed Bruce’s next chain of command before switching off your intercom, consequences be damned, you’ll deal with what’s to come later; As for now all you wanted to do was ingrained this version of Jason to memory before you were destined to part ways once again.

‘You should go, I’ve given you a brief window to escape but it won’t be long before he figures out somethings amiss.’ You told the vigilante, just about getting ready to leave when he desperately grabbed at your arm. ‘That’s it? You’re just going to leave after finding out I’m alive? Do you even care?!’ Jason roared and it was enough for you to snap because how dare he think that you didn’t care about him when he was all you ever thought about after his untimely death. ‘I always fucking care about you Jason!’ You exclaimed. ‘No! I fucking loved you but you died! You fucking died. I told you that you’d get killed one day and but you didn’t listen! You never listen! Do you know how much i grieved for you, mourned for you!? I became a vigilante IN YOUR MEMORY! So go ahead and claim that I don’t care for you when all I ever done was care for you, you stupid boy because I was stupid enough to fall first!’

Jason froze. You loved him? Since when and why didn’t he know? Why did you tell him? But most importantly, why him? He’s broken, he wasn’t worth your time.

You smiled weakly at his silence and quietly slipped from his grasp and left to meet up with Bruce and Dick, knowing it was for the better. Silently hoping that you would get to see him again but you weren’t exactly holding onto any form of hope.

[formulapookie]

💛💛

Under the cut to read on Tumblr, here to read on Ao3 ch1; ch2; ch3; ch4; ch5; ch6

Les fleurs du mal ch7 rosquez, 3,2k words

The flight is not worth any kind of notice, the air inside the plane feels heavy, as if someone just put tons and tons more worth of weight on Vale’s shoulder just to keep him anchored to the floor and not let him fly away.

The hostess passes by a few times, asking if he wants anything, Vale barely acknowledges her presence, shaking his head and saying he’s ok.

It’s still half an hour to Barcelona. From there it’s less than an hour drive to Cervera.

God he’s really doing this. He’s- what the fuck is he even doing?

They won’t let him near the body, or the fucking funeral for that matter, let alone close to his grave.

But he needs to see him.

Even if it won’t be sunny, happy Marc he’ll look at, but this strange version of him.

Still in his selfishness Vale wants. He thinks he’s owed that. To see Marc. To look at what he did, because he thinks it’s a suitable way to pay for his actions.

He wants to be the one in the front row saying his last goodbye, wants to be the one carrying the casket, it should be him.

Not Lorenzo, not Dovi, not Pedrosa, not Alex.

If he could, if he only could, he would carry him into the church and from there to the graveyard all alone.

He’d cry. Beg for Marc to come back probably. But at least he’d be close.

Unbeating heart next to warm skin.

Vale doesn’t cry often, before this the last time he cried was for Marco.

God how much had he cried for him.

Uccio and his parents tried to get him out of his room for days, he refused to eat, or drink for that matter. He thought about staying locked in there until the same fate that got Sic got him too, so that they could still ride together in the clouds, like he said Marco to be doing.

Only Luca had managed to get him out, shake him from the dark and rotten place he caved himself a shelter in, and bring him back out, but it was a long and difficult task.

Marco, he. He never fully agreed to the version for which he died before. The one saying that the moment he fell and slid on the track without his helmet he was already dead.

No.

He barely agreed to the one publicly accepted, which is that Marco was there, 50/50 with a chance of never recovering and he just sped up the process.

The fact is he believed and still secretly believes to this day that he killed him. Ran him over, snapped his neck, and killed his best friend. Because maybe he would’ve survived, maybe he could’ve gotten better, maybe they’d have raced again.

For what concerns Marc there aren't even alternatives or sets of opinions about what happened, or whose fault it is, or if it could’ve ended in a different way.

He killed him.

And even if he did it unintentionally he feels like he did it on purpose. Revenge, what a sick fucking felling.

It makes you think and act in ways you didn’t think were yours.

He feels his skin itching, cutting into his muscle and he wants to tear it off, but doesn’t move in the slightest, he wants this to hurt.

Pain is a way to punish himself, though not slightly comparable to the one Marc felt, but it keeps him there, tied to reality and unable to escape the fact he hurt so many people just by being an asshole.

He thinks about the night after Sepang. It’s not a good idea.

He gets up and runs to throw up in the toilet, the alcohol and the few bites of food he’s digested are now out of his system, and he cannot think about eating anything right now.

The image of Marc standing before him, pleading and begging for a chance to be them again.

He remembers the almost-tears in the boy’s eyes, those same eyes looking at his souls trying to get a hold of it.

The image of them two makes its way in Vale’s mind.

If someone had walked in, he would’ve seen a 20 something kid getting his heart shattered, trying to pick the pieces up from the ground as Vale kicked them around, smirking with that sick fun he proved that night.

How could he treat the person who loved him the most like that? Leave him to the wolves as if it had always been like this.

Then a memory from Valencia comes up.

The one moment who revealed to him what Marc was going through.

“You like helping him uh? You sucked his dick too? Did you go to him and let him fuck you as a thank you for letting him win? Did he fuck you well Marc? I bet you enjoyed his dick so much given how you ran to me immediately after to suck me off”

“Stop it Vale please”

“Ah stop what? I’m having fun here aren’t you? Does he know how you like to be treated like the whore you are?”

Then Marc had thrown up. Those petals, horribly yellow and blue.

“I’m sorry”

But sorry doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t fix the hole in his heart shaped like a shot wound.

Sorry doesn’t bring Marc magically back and places him onto his plane, sorry doesn’t give him the chance to tell Marc he loved him still.

Sorry doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t even make him feel better. The only thing that could brighten his day is Marc’s smile.

Or a kiss from him, a hug, holding hands. An action that told Vale “I’m here, I’m here with you”

The only noise is the signal that tells him to fasten his seatbelt because they’re landing. No laugh, no “Vale you want me to hold your hand? I know you’re scared of flying”, no little yelp Marc did when they started taking off.

Vale never liked flying. Not private, not commercial. He doesn’t like lots of factors, height, pressure, danger, noise.

He hates taking off and landing most of all.

And when he’s alone he always grips the seat so fucking tight he had to replace armrests more than once. The jet company had told him he should be sure if he wants to have something so fancy he’s so scared of.

He hadn’t cared.

“Vale? Are you ok? You look a bit - a bit pale. Have you eaten? Do you want me to take you something from the bag?”

Vale shook his head, put on a reassuring smile and sat in his seat, Marc beside him smiling so much Vale though it had to hurt.

“Are you excited? For our holiday?”

Vale had gone overboard that time, something he never did for his past girlfriends, not for anyone but Marc. Marc. A shooting star that came into his life to stay.

He planned a 12 day holiday in the Philippines, just the two of them, in this apartment far from the rest of the world, where they could be just themselves without the fear of being discovered.

“I already told you amore no? Really excited, we’re gonna be in this very beautiful house surrounded by nature and near the sea for twelve days, and most importantly I get to have you all to myself for twelve days. I have already planned a few things I’d like to do once there, you know?”

Marc had blushed, looked away.

Of course he “planned” a few things as well, they were completely alone for more than a week, having sex is the most expected thing there.

And he really wants to spend at least two days straight without getting out of bed. Vale’s tension hadn’t worn down during their small chat, Marc could see how he kept on looking outside the window, and how the armrest of the seat Vale was on looked like a wild cat attacked it.

“Vale, are you nervous?” “Uh? No no I’m ok don’t worry baby” “You look strange” “No no I just am really excited about going there with you”

Marc had watched him again, until a particularly sharp noise came from the plane’s engine.

At that, Vale had shut his eyes and his mouth morphed into a thin closed line, even with his eyes closed Marc could feel the fear.

“Vale, are you scared of flying?” “No” “Amor I won’t judge you, but are you?” Vale opened his eyes, the plane was ready to take off. “Yes. I don’t like it” “Ok then uhm I can maybe hold your hand? To make you feel more secure?”

Vale also doesn’t like to ask for help, or make it obvious he needs it, but the way Marc was looking at him moved something in his chest, it made him vulnerable, but in a pleasant way. A sweet kind of it.

“Ok. Yeah yeah ok you can just-“ “Yeah I solemnly swear I will never tell Valentino Rossi wanted me to hold his hand because he’s scared of flying”

They had laughed, and Marc had brought him a kind of warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt in any other moment of his life.

Right now he’s alone. There’s an enormous emptiness beside him. An obvious lack of warmth and doe eyes looking at him with love.

Those eyes, God. How many times has he looked at them, how many times has he seen them open at the first lights of the morning in creamy white sheets they shared, how many times has he fell in love with them.

The memories are almost enough to distract him from the impending touch with the ground.

Maybe the plane will break, or crash. Save the others and leave him a carcass twisted below tons of metal sheets, unrecognizable at the sight.

Maybe this would be the right way to pay back Marc. Maybe just this could be enough. Dying of a horribly painful death, like Marc did. Alone. Cold.

The plane lands, and there’s no explosion or collision. Valentino is alive, and painfully so.

He never understood people who said they wanted to die until now. Because there’s something about thinking that it can all be over, that he can get away with it without having to face the others.

Lorenzo, Dani, Dovi.

They will be at the funeral. They will be on track. And they will know it was him.

The hostess comes up to him, tells him they’re securely landed and he can climb off the plane.

He gets up, a hoodie and a pair of du glasses on. Phone in pocket and some cash in the other.

He doesn’t need anything more, he reserved a car during the flight, it’s already there waiting for him.

He gets off the plane and in the car as fast as humanly possible, fingers tapping uncomfortably on the steering wheel, a tightening sensation in his throat.

He’s crying once again, at this point he’s surprised there’s even tears left inside him.

He stays there for ten whole minutes, then convinces himself he has to do this. He has to go.

He starts the car and gets out the airport, he doesn’t need a navigator, he knows the route by heart, him and Marc made it lots of times.

Once he’s twenty minutes away from destination he feels worse and worse about what he’s doing.

How will he even hide himself? Cervera is not a big town, and he’s not sure Marc’s family chose to have an open doors funeral.

He’s going there blindly, in the vague hope he’ll get to cast a glance at his body.

The graveyard won’t be as much of a problem, he can confuse himself with people who will want to say their goodbye. He’s sure he’ll find a way to sneak in, stay far from the family as he too mourns with them.

The town is packed, as he expected, tons of people gathered there to give their last farewell to Marc.

There’s flags,  cardboard signs, sheets, all in his honor. In the honor of the rider he was. They are mourning the icon, the sportsman he was. Not the man, the wonderful person he actually was.

And it hurts.

To them it’s an idol that died, an inspiration. To him and his family it’s a person, a brother, a son, a friend, a lover.

The square before the Church is barely noticeable, a sea of orange and red combing it whole.

Then he sees it, the side entrance Dovizioso in suing to get in. He can do it. He can get in somehow.

He squishes himself through the myriads of people waiting for Marc to come out, waiting for the men dressed in deep black to carry him out in a coffin.

But Vake knows they’ll never come out from the front door, no they’ll come out the side one, take another car with the corpse and go to the graveyard.

And he’ll find a way to follow.

He doesn’t manage to surpass the barriers tho, he has to just wait, wait until the function is over and he can follow them to the place where his love will be buried forever.

Once he notices the funeral procession, he’s the fastest he’s ever been, running back to his car and quietly following the one with Marc in it.

It feels shady, and it is, but that’s all he can do.

He parks fairly far from the spot where he knows they’ll place Marc, climbs down the car and makes the rest of the way by foot, quietly in the December freezing cold.

He’s lucky, he knows he is, he could’ve arrived too early, or too late, or be recognised and probably publicly executed.

The graveyard is gray, gloomy and unsettling. He can see Alex from this distance, and a priest reciting something.

He wants to be there.

He’s hidden behind a tree, a bit closer now, he can hear the sobs coming from the people there and the incomprehensible words said by the priest.

Alex is holding their mother, their father is just a few centimeters to the left, heavy eyes filled with tears.

Other family members gathered around the coffin crying as well.

Their colleagues stand a bit further, crying as quietly as they can, Dani especially seems broken, hiding his face in Lorenzo’s chest, while he strokes his back gently, Dovi has marks on his knuckles, red and blotchy.

He must’ve punched something at the news.

Once the person Vale supposes to be Marc’s grandmother moves out of the way he can see him.

Soft, pale and pure skin. Frozen, unable to move. Restrained in this position for eternity, It’s a sickening view, it’s unnatural for Marc to be like that.

He wants to come out of his hiding spot, under the soft and cold light of the December sun.

Walk to the coffin, say goodbye, say sorry, cry, beg for him to come back, then accept the truth.

He can’t think of leaving a flower, not with the way Marc died.

And now that he pays more attention he can see little flowers growing out of his mouth.

He’s heard of people whose ribcage got broken by roots and flowers growing out of it, and he’s glad Marc’s situation is not like that.

The unmistakably bright yellow being the only thing of his still attached to Marc.

He makes a small mistake, a little movement and Roser turns around.

He got caught.

Roser just saw him at Marc’s funeral and now he truly is doomed.

Vale begins walking away, wants to run between the graves and go back to his car. Once he’s almost out he feels a hand on his back. He stops and turns around, ready to face a blood thirsty Alex.

But he just sees Roser, eyes red and glassy.

And he feels even worse for it, feels like a fucking cancer once again. There’s hatred in her eyes, rightfully so, and anger, and so much pain. “Take the glasses off”

He doesn’t expect that, but it’s not a punch in the guts, so he takes them off. Icy blue eyes matching with the surrounding atmosphere, eyes Roser notices to be filled with so much more than she thought.

“Why are you here?”

Her English is tentative, broken, but it can transmit all her emotions well enough. Vale can’t answer, he wants to burn a hole into the ground and fucking disappear inside it.

Words are dying inside his throat, he just looks up at Marc’s mother to feel something close to that hate he has for himself.

And there is a lot of it. But there’s also - compassion?

Or at least something that is not just pure pain and anger.

“Rossi. My son loved you” “I know” “You not” “I did. I do now too. I came here to see him I - I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry”

The last part he speaks Catalan, which shocks Roser.

Valentino Rossi, the rider, the legend, the man who hurt her son so much is now crying in front of her, knees against the icy-cold soil of a graveyard, speaking her language, saying he’s sorry.

She would want to be strong enough to just leave him there. But this man is crying like a kid lost in the woods looking for someone to help him.

There’s anger in her heart, obviously, lots of it. There’s hate. But she will never not have compassion in her heart too.

The tears, the eyes, the words, they all seem genuine to her.

“estimaves el meu fill?” (did you love my son?)

“sì. no tant com es mereixia” (yes. not as much as he deserved)

“però ara ets aquí” (but you’re here now)

“ja és massa tard. ell és mort”  (now it’s too late. he’s dead)

“ell mai va deixar de pensar que hauries tornat per ell” (he never stopped thinking you would’ve come back for him)

“ho sento” (I’m sorry)

And vale just stays there, crying, but without a sound, Roser standing in front of him. And he wants her to do something, maybe call for Marc’s father, or for Alex, or the other riders.

Instead he receives pity. And a hand on his shoulder.

“Go away before they see you, if you want to speak to my boy you should go to Church, ask for forgiveness, ask for him to be well”

And then she leaves. The mother of the boy he killed leaves. Lets him go, as if he didn’t commit the most atrocious and horrible act towards Marc.

He gets up from the ground, dirt and grass staining his jeans, the cold has made its way inside his bones, under his skin, pointy, stingy. He puts the glasses back on, tears don’t stop falling when he does, the sensation of being observed doesn’t fade.

The ride back is monotone, gray, and silent. The radio doesn’t work, and if it did Vale would turn it off anyway.

He gets to a lay-by and stops, he can’t hold it anymore, he gets out the car and vomits, it's almost just bile, maybe some alcohol still, no food. The image of Marc laying like that is too much.

It accompanies him until he reaches the airport again, leaving the car where he found it, it accompanies him while he climbs on the plane and when it takes off.

It fucking follows him to the bedroom door once he's home.

[scekrex]

Adam X Male Reader. Who's been cheated on, in the past and is slowly starting to trust Adam more as time goes on.

Okay okay okay hear me the fuck out: they both struggle bc both Lilith and Eve left him and they both had something with Lucifer (Eve presumably cheated - in this fic it's implied that both cheated on Adam to spice things up a lil)

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt, cheating (mentioned)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam decided to play a role in your silly little afterlife and you realized that you wanted him in a way that you’ve only ever wanted one person before, the sweet taste of your platonic relationship soured. You had developed feelings for the first man, that you couldn’t deny any longer, but you hated yourself for it - because who were to promise you that he wouldn’t fuck with someone else while dating you like your ex partner had done? The only person who could do so was Adam, yet you had learned the hard way that many promises people made - winner or human didn’t matter - were empty.

They told you what they thought you wanted to hear to simply get their way and while you wanted to trust Adam, and maybe your heart already did trust his sugar coated words, your mind strongly disagreed and doubted every little promise spoken by him - not just by him though, your mind told you that every promise was just a bunch of empty words, that way you were keeping yourself safe, you protected yourself from getting hurt again.

Adam, on the other hand, felt similar. He had been cheated on twice, back in his early days as a human, back when he had blindly trusted Lucifer’s and Lilith’s words, back in Eden when Eve had promised him that she and Lucifer were just friends. But they had been so much more than just that - just friends weren’t fucking each other. The two women that had been created for him and only him had turned against him and chosen someone else, why shouldn’t you do the same? God had never truly intended for Adam to date guys, hadn’t he? Yet you were there and Adam wanted nothing more than to call you his. But surely a person who wasn’t even meant for him would leave him just like the women did that God had created for him. They had been meant to love and desire him, but they hadn't done so. They had crushed Adam’s heart, shattered it into pieces and stepped on the shards until it had been nothing but dust. And then you had been so quick to glue the tiny pieces back together, you had fixed something deep inside of him without even knowing it but there was the risk of losing you again - he told himself that if he’d keep himself distanced, it wouldn’t hurt as much. That was bullshit though and deep down he knew that.

And then there was Lute, she was not only Adam’s lieutenant and best friend, she was also the self claimed couple therapist Adam and you desperately needed. So when the three of you sat in the living room of the house you and Adam shared, and Lute waited for one of you to begin talking, you took that chance, “What if his promises of staying forever and not fucking someone else are empty?” You felt a little bad, voicing your thoughts so harshly with Adam sitting right next to you and you noticed how he flinched a little at your words, how his wings rose a little to hide himself behind them. Lute tilted her head a little, “Why would they?” And to that you had no answer so you remained silent while Adam’s curious eyes were watching you carefully from the side. “I’ve known Adam for a long while now,” Lute continued, she gently placed a hand on your knee and your eyes met hers. There was honesty in those golden orbs of hers, honesty and made your concerns seem so unwarranted. “He has never looked at someone the way he looks at you,” you turned your head towards the first man, the man mumbled something inaudible but nodded - he was not used to being so vulnerable, to talk about his fears openly. “What if he fucking finds someone like Lucifer and decides to fucking drop me like those whores of ex-wives did?” Lute sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Look at him, he’s seen your crybaby tantrums and yet decided to stay - he’s not gonna leave Adam.” And while Lute’s words were true and both of you logically knew that the other wouldn’t cheat because they know what it’s like to be on the other end of it, it wasn’t that easy to change an entire mindset.

It would take a lot of time and work, even more energy to fix the both of you. But you and Adam were willing to work this through. Together, side by side and hand in hand. And maybe one day the both of you wouldn’t have to struggle with that fear anymore, today was not that day though.

[blaisenova]

a little drabble i shat out teehee. super experimental, super angsty, super shorter than usual. i wouldn't have it any other way.

as always, ao3 link is in the reblogs.

no warnings for this one other than the usual messed up relationship bs i don't think, but let me know if i missed anything and i'll tack it on

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A heaving breath disturbs the dust that has gathered on the bright red scarf that hangs on a bent nail sticking out of the wall. Once, perhaps, it would have reminded you of someone else, but all you can see now is a warped version of yourself that clung to both it and all of the memories that it held despite how much it hurt him. 

And, that was the problem, wasn’t it? 

That he was too much like you, only broken in different ways. Like looking in a mirror that had been shattered, seeing a distorted reflection that might have been you if the light had shone at another angle, or if the ones that had broken you both had done so more similarly; if there weren’t parts that had been removed; replaced; rearranged. You were imperfect echoes of one another, simultaneously too alike and too different; warped by the way your sound bounced off of the walls.

In the end, it hadn’t really mattered that you both wanted the same thing; to be seen, and to be loved despite how ugly the view was.

You had always known that you weren’t something worth seeing – weren’t convinced that you could be seen – and he’d been convinced that not seeing every part of him all at once, all the time, meant that you didn’t see him at all. 

You’d feared him just as much as you’d adored him; he’d hated you almost as much as he’d loved you.

And, that was the problem, wasn’t it?

You both had held on to things that would only ever hurt you, and neither of you had known how to let it go until you were already so thoroughly intertwined with one another that you had to rip and tear at the thorns that bound you so that you just might have a chance at escaping. You’d thought, at some point, the bleeding might stop – now that his binds weren’t tearing open your body just to be certain that you’d still bleed at his command – but, even though your soul is no longer connected to his, the thorns remain, and you are an open wound; a bleeding heart; a walking haemorrhage.

Nightmare wouldn’t like that you were staining his carpets so.

You weren’t sure you could bring yourself to care.

Gently, you rub his scarf between your fingers. It’s thin and threadbare, and some part of you finds kinship in that fact. The feeling is rough – unpleasant – but familiar.

Does familiarity have to be a good thing?

“I miss you,” you confess to no one, because something about the admission makes you feel filthy. Thick tar falls from your sockets and stains your cheeks, and terror lances through you as you realise that maybe you never will be anything more than this ever again. 

Your breathing comes quick, and you hold your breath so as to not disturb his dusty remains any further than you already have; and, you wonder why you treat him with a reverence that he would never return.

You wonder if he could ever understand just how terrified he made you – of being nothing more than this; wonder why it matters so much to you that he understands; know he can’t possibly, when he is the one making you so afraid.

What were you, before? What are you, now?

Pieces and parts of yourself: removed, replaced, and rearranged. 

You think of a story you read, once, long ago. The books you managed to get your hands on before were worse for wear – yellowing pages that were putrid and warped from the journey they’d taken when they were discarded and forgotten; nothing like the pristine, well taken care of books that you had access to now, though something about that made them mean less – but you absorbed what they had to offer you with an appreciation you were sure they’d never been granted before. They spoke of gods, and humans, and monsters, and they wondered in ways you’d never wondered before; ways you wonder now.

You think of the story of the Ship of Theseus.

Pieces and parts: removed, replaced, rearranged.

Is it the same ship? Are you the same you? Now that you’ve been rebuilt – removed, replaced, and rearranged – are you still the person you once were? Can you be rebuilt again? Or, are you stuck like this, now that the one that was constructing you is no longer around to restore your weathered parts? Are you trapped, half-finished and without a purpose? A boat built with perforated wood? 

Water rushes in the gaps, and, through the same rifts, your blood pours out. Because, despite being free of his ties – the thorns are gone; you ripped them out; you tore out their roots, so they can’t possibly grow back, right? – you still tear yourself open just to be certain that you can still bleed, should he command it.

He’s not around to command you anymore.

Somehow, you feel you still need to be prepared for it.

“I miss you,” you confess to yourself, and something about the admission makes you feel vile. Thick tar falls from your sockets and drowns you, and you’re horrified because, even now, you’re still exactly how he reconstructed you – removed, replaced, rearranged. You fear you’ll never be anything more than this.

Can you be anything more than this?

You weren’t rebuilt to be a person. You weren’t remade to have desires or needs. You’re not sure he knew how you were meant to function, when his hands were deep within your very mind; your very soul. You’re not sure he knew how thoroughly he was stripping you of the programming that kept you alive. You’re not sure it matters whether he knew, when the result is the same.

His hands left you, coated in oil, or tar, or blood – whatever it was that flowed through you – and he’d wiped sweat from his brow – smeared you across his forehead – after a job well done.

Pieces and parts of you: removed, replaced, rearranged.

Refashioned to please a person that can no longer reap the rewards.

The fabric between your fingers grates on your bone and wears you away. The feeling is rough – unpleasant – but familiar.

You wonder if familiarity is ever a good thing.

“Killer,” a voice calls, and you numbly raise your head to meet a bright cyan eye with your own two empty ones. His sockets are half-lidded, and his expression is tight. When he speaks, his tone is harsh. “You serve no purpose, serving someone that no longer exists. Come back to me. Let him go.”

Again, your gaze falls back down to the red on your hands, and you wither at the sight. You feel light and heavy, all at the same time. “How?”

He sighs, and the sound makes you flinch; apologies taste bitter as you swallow them back down like bile. In a way that is certainly contrary, he kneels before you – pulls your chin up with his hand in a way you know is uncharacteristically gentle – and smiles; wider, when you smile back. His hand outstretches towards you, open and empty. “Let me help you.”

You stare at the offer, gripping your grief in closed fists, and, carefully, you allow your fingers to fall open. Uncertainty shakes you as you reach for his hand, and you’re careful not to make contact when you deposit your soul – heart-shaped; unstable; ugly – within his grasp. Your fingers dart away from the construct before you can change your mind.

“Good,” Nightmare praises, but you wince as he draws your soul up and away, right before his face. His eye watches its shifting form in fascination, and, this time, his smile almost feels real. He looks back at you, and you already feel the oncoming sting. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll fix you.”

“I miss him,” you confess, and the admission makes you mortified. Thick tar falls from your sockets, and you can’t breathe.

“I know,” he says, “but you won’t.”

He brings your soul to his teeth, and a choked sound of agony catches in your throat as he bites down and consumes you. For a moment, panic locks you in place – punctuated by the way your breath stutters with each excruciating soulbeat – but the feeling disappears as quickly as the rest, and you’re left with nothing but the pain that serves as the cost of numbness.

As you barrel towards apathy, laughter pouring from your chest – you’re not sure why you’re laughing. It’s not funny – you think that you can never be more than this.

Pieces and parts of yourself: removed, replaced, rearranged, always in someone else’s name.

[zyxwvutbackwards]

I wanna write down some initial thoughts about it, so Day 3 Mushroom Oasis spoilers under the cut!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OH MY GODDDDDD/POS

It was so good!!! And Mycheal got so much scarier 😭 Maybe it’s just because I was watching horror last night, but I felt like he was actually gonna hurt us at one point!!! His attitude change totally makes sense given that he thinks he’s having the one thing he wants in the world, companionship, taken away, but GOD it got to me!! If I was Mc I’d have thought he was starting to hate us given how much we asked of him - and for what in exchange? Fortunately I have the power of Access to Meta Knowledge, so I know what that is, but I really feel for Mc lmaoo!

Genuinely, though, I didn’t expect him to get so irritable 👀 for some reason I’d expected him to just get sad, but tbh it makes sense! He’s been trying so hard to get Mc to stay, so, SO hard just to prove to himself that they were different, and to show them that they should stay - plus constantly having to work to maintain that image and it failing regardless! I can’t imagine he’d internalize it healthily either - “they’re leaving because I did something wrong/because I’m not good enough/because I’m a monster.” That image is only set aside when Mc makes plans to visit! Even then, though, it can’t be fully shattered - unless something miraculous happens or they reject him, I can’t imagine he’s going to stop feeling that pressure anytime soon.

Also, I was genuinely shocked I got the good ending on the first try! Usually when playing through VNs, I do what I think I’d actually do irl and see how it plays out - which means that, in this case, I made the Mc stay suspicious. Which usually means that I get a bad (or good depending on how you look at it) ending - I can’t believe Mycheal puts up with so much distrust from someone he barely knows 😭 The kitchen scene was so awkward!!! And so was the forest scene!!! The walking in silence turning into arguing was 😭😭 my heart hurt - yet for some reason he was relatively chill about it later on?? I guess it showcases his desperation for connection, poor guy :( It does make me wonder what sort of behavior or person would push him past his limit, though. So far the only real line he’s drawn is that we have to not insult him and/or be terrified of him? His self-esteem is really low and he’s really lonely, so I think it’d have to be something he perceives as really bad for him to decide that A. He’s too good for this person and/or B. Being alone is better than keeping them around. Or, perhaps, C. The person actually doesn’t like him because their action was so atrocious that they couldn’t have possibly done it if they even tolerated him. Maybe this action has to do with his privacy - like, if Mc went through his box while he slept? Even then I have my doubts. All this said, I think it would be much easier for him to decide that he didn’t want someone around if they were never kind in the first place - so my speculating is all about once he’d already grown attached. Given he likes the Mc because of their kindness, maybe blatant cruelty would be enough? Especially towards people he’d already grown attached to. Probably, actually! I could totally see him kicking someone out who was cruel to his chickens - who wouldn’t kick someone like that to the curb? They’re his chickens! Who couldn’t love them? I digress.

The bad ending hurt ngl 😭 I hated calling him those names and I hated making him react that way. It was really hard to do, especially when we didn’t have a chance to take it back. And even after all of that he gave us gifts? His love language?? He still cares about Mc???😭 Rubbing salt in the wound there!! I wonder if he understands that Mc rejected him because of his actions not because of who or what he is. I wonder if he thinks there’s a difference at that point! He clearly feels guilty

Also!!! Several mysteries!!! A. The box?? First of all, he decorated it with mushroom stickers, that’s adorable, but second of all!! Very very curious about what was in it!! And B. The not mushrooms?? What are they??? Very curious about them and their origins.

Finally, other stuff!!! When it wasn’t awkward because he was upset about/with Mc, it was adorable 😭 we got to hear him talk in his language in two of the routes, and that was amazing!!! I want to hear what he sounds like irl so bad! It just reads like it would sound really unique and beautiful. Ough I love him so much!

Also - Vida reminds me so much of Alma, I genuinely thought it was them for a minute lowkey still wouldn’t be surprised if it was, but I’m gonna feel really embarrassed if I come out all confident that they’re the same person and find out I’m wrong so I’m keeping this in the margins 😭 They kinda look like them, and they even said “lift your spirits” at one point! Also their dog was adorable 🥹

Speaking of - THE ANIMATION??? LORD I didn’t expect it!!! When Mycheal grabbed Mc’s hand I was so taken aback!! It was so smooth!!! And so good!!! And the dog wagging its tail was so cute!!! The art was amazing as always, very comfy cozy, and the new backgrounds were gorgeous!! Plus the new sprites!! He’s so cute when he isn’t scary! And still so caring when he is!! Well, he’s caring when he isn’t trying to manipulate Mc into staying, that is. This wouldn’t be a yandere blog if I didn’t love that side of him as well though :D He’s so awesome

Anyways, I’m sorry if you read all this brain vomit, it doesn’t have any sort of nuanced thought or overall conclusion other than that I’m obsessed with MO, I just needed to ramble about the game for a bit 😭 Mycheal is such a well written character and I am so so so excited to learn more about him. I loved this update and I’m so grateful for the creator for their work. Thanks for reading if you took the time to and have a lovely day!! 💞

[mynameisjag]

Jean and Scott being alive and investigating the rumors of a familiar face running around, it leads them to an apartment with a person they had only dreamed of seeing again.

“Didn’t take the X-men to be ghost hunters.”

The voice was the same…

“Because that’s what your doing, right now.”

He looked…younger…

“You're hunting a ghost of a memory.”

Logan was standing in front of him, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and frowning…looking just like the picture that Scott had framed back home.

Jean was gripping his arm, he could feel the slight tremors in her hands as she clutched onto him, her eyes wide, “Logan?”

“I’m not him, I'm not…I’m not your Logan.”

Course he wasn’t…not when Scott himself had came across the dug up remains, shattered and scattered around.

They hadn’t moved…the body…when they had found it…out of respect…thought it would be safer there…

They were wrong…

Scott cried…Jean…Jean was a fury…if she ever found out who was responsible…

Speaking of Jean, she had finally released his arm to take a step toward the man in the apartment doorway, steps were slow, measured, eyes trained on the other as though if she even chanced a glance away, he would disappear.

She was less then a foot away now but she had stopped, just to stare at him, “There were rumors that…you…were here…we had to see, to know…”

They wanted desperately their friend…their Logan back…and it had felt like there was a slim chance that maybe, just maybe the universe would be kind…only for it to pour more misery in their already overflowing cup.

He can see the way his wife’s hands twitch, wanting to reach out and touch, to make sure the person in front of them was real and not another hallucination brought about by grief.

“We missed you…”

“No, you miss him, not me. You miss what could have been and then regret the should have taken chances you’ve thrown away…I know…because I’m the same way too.”

Logan looks…sad…broken hearted as he stares at them…

They could fix that now that they have a new chance.

“Can we come in?”

“Not my place to invite you into.”

“Logan.”

“Jean.”

The smirk sent her way was almost the same, almost…it fades away into a gentle sad smile, “We are strangers with familiar faces, we share bits and pieces of history but our memories do not match. You are looking for someone you know is gone and I’ve…I’ve lived every day haunted by ghosts that were almost you.”

There is a noise from behind him.

He glances over his shoulder, a sigh escaping him as he waves whoever he is looking at away.

He is not alone…but they already knew that…this was his new beginning, a new life…it hurts they may not be part of it.

They want to be part of it…

Scott takes the chance to move forward, next to Jean, closer to Logan, “You can stop by the mansion at anytime, we’d love to have you…we’d love to get to know you, this you.”

Logan glanced back again, eyes taking in whatever scene is going on behind him, he looks…soft...

When he turns back towards them, there is gentleness to him only tainted by the sadness their presence brings, “We’ll see…”

[jjtheresidentbaby]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Night In ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

|| mike schmidt x vanessa shelly

warnings: little!vanessa, cg!mike, established mike/vanessa both romantic & regrssor/caregiver, they live together, slight angst, vanessa’s insecure about her regression, nicknames

Mike chews the inside of his cheek as he drives down the long stretch of empty road back towards the Schmidt house, it’s far too quiet in the car, and while the car is usually a little quieter without Abby in the backseat, this is almost eerie. They’re driving forty minutes home from the hotel Abby is staying with Ness at- he’s become a trusted babysitter and had offered to take the girl to an upcoming convention for some show they both watch - Mike honestly doesn’t know how a nine year old and a twenty something year old waiter can be this excited about the same show but he was happy to get the alone time with Vanessa.

After everything that’s happened it’s been hard to find time for just them, Mike’s working a new job, Vanessa’s been doing double time since getting out of the hospital, they’ve all been going to therapy- life has been busy. Thankfully much more settled, but some time for tlc is always appreciated, and the longer this car ride goes on the more Mike thinks Vanessa really needs it.

She’s been shifting in her seat every five seconds with a twisted up look on her face as though she can’t get comfortable and her eyes have been looking anywhere but at Mike. It’s worrying him to the point he contemplates pulling over to figure out what’s wrong- but he’ll hold off and start with just asking, trying to remind himself that jumping to conclusions only leads to him getting anxious which is the last thing he needs if Vanessa’s already having a bad time.

“Nessa? You okay?” He drops his voice soft and caring, glancing at the blonde girl only to be turned away from.

“I’m fine.” The response is quick and pitchy, almost nervous sounding, she’s chewing on her thumb nail and staring out the window like she’s never seen anything more interesting in the whole world.

“Are you….feeling small?” Mike hesitates as he asks it. While he’s always eager to take care of Vanessa when she’s little and he loves to be able to help her heal from her horrid childhood; he knows Vanessa isn’t always keen on going small or even admitting she may need to/already is.

“I’m sorry…” The girl mumbles back and Mike swears his heart shatters to nothing. Screw it- he’s pulling over.

“Mike? What are you doing?” A surprised squeak leaves Vanessa when Mike swerves over to the side of the road, a little more chaotically than he thought it’d be.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. But, Nessa, you don’t have to apologize for going small.” A saddened look falls to Vanessa’s face as Mike turns in his seat to face her, reaching to take her hand carefully.

“We’re supposed to be having a romantic night to ourselves, not-.” Her eye flick away from Mike, a wetness to her lashes and her teeth dug into her bottom lip as if she’s keeping back sobs.

They have reservations for a nicer restaurant that’s a few towns over, Mike ironed his dress shirt before they left and he knows Vanessa was going to wear one of her dresses, but none of that is more important than her being comfortable. Not to Mike anyways.

“That’s not true, we’re having a night to ourselves, romantic or not. We could go home and clean the entire house if we wanted to, or drive around until I run out of gas, or hell- we could go running through the woods in the pitch black if we really wanted to. The only thing that matters is that we’re together, okay?”

“And I’d hate to miss a chance to see my best girl.” Mike moves his free hand to brush his thumb against Vanessa’s cheek, smiling when she blushes and giggles at the touch. The nickname ‘best girl’ started after Abby realized Vanessa didn’t have a version of her own nickname ‘sweet girl’ that Mike’s been calling her since she was still a baby.

“You sure? Don’t wanna ruin the night.”

“You’d never ruin the night, ever.”

-

Eventually the two make it home in much better spirits, Vanessa had started to sing along to the radio loudly while Mike was driving and she’s still humming as she bounces up the walkway to the front door. Mike’s more than relieved that Vanessa seems to be enjoying her regression, he always hates to see when she’s upset and small, it’s a different type of hurt.

“What do you want for dinner? We just went shopping so we still have options.” A grin breaks over Mikes lips when Vanessa comes to wrap around his waist where he’s bent to look into the fridge. There’s still leftovers from last nights dinner but there’s still plenty of fresh ingredients for Mikes to cook something new.

“Pizza!”

“Pizza? That’s the one thing I can’t make!” Vanessa giggles as Mike comes to scoop her into his arms, placing her on his hip with a playful squint when she pokes at his nose with her pointer finger.

“Pizza. With pepperoni.” He pretends to think it over for a moment- they both know he’ll cave- but he still likes to watch Vanessa’s eyes go big and puppy dog like as she waits.

“Okay, okay, enough with the eyes. We can get pizza.” Both Vanessa and Abby know giving Mike puppy dog eyes will get them just about anything they want, and judging by the smug smile on Vanessa’s face she definitely knew it’d work with this.

“With pepperoni.”

“With pepperoni.” He confirms with a kiss to the side of Vanessa’s head.

A night of pizza and cartoons honestly sounds better than going to some fancy restaurant where he’d have to wear uncomfortable clothes and eat overpriced food while pretending he didn’t feel completely out of place in the restaurant. Holding Vanessa to his chest as she steadily chews on her hoodie strings is also better than seeing her wearing a tight dress - which she looks absolutely stunning in- but he knows bothers her with how stiff it is. They don’t need some expensive dinner or anything like that, they just need each other.

[vhagarlovebot]

WHAT WENT WRONG.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: prince aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: you and aemond promised to send each other letters when you left king’s landing five years ago, but he didn’t keep his promise. now you’re back ready to find answers but aemond is no the same he used to be and you might not like what he has to say.

content contains: pure angst, no happy ending.

note: if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

YOU HAVE NOT SEEN prince aemond targaryen since you left for dragonstone five years ago. the last time you saw him he was trying to hold his tears, waving goodbye after promising to send each other letters. you did send letters but aemond never replied. after three years you stopped writing, it hurt you to know you were that easy to forget. but you also knew how life in king's landing is, specially for a prince. you were fifteen and should have known that was going to happen, but you liked to dream, always hoping for the better.

although being hard at first, you moved on. until the invitation to aegon and helaena's wedding came.

"are you nervous?" helaena asks, walking arm in arm with you. she’s smiling even though it’s been a exhausting day with all the final details on the wedding.

you arrived two nights ago but haven't seen aemond yet. of course you are nervous, helaena and her mother have told you how much he has grown, how different from that sixteen year old boy he is now, and that doesn’t make you feel any better.

“not at all.” you smile and she believes it.

but you are a bundle of nerves with a urge to throw up when the doors in front of you open, revealing a large table and a few people standing around it.

you can see your mother and daemon talking in a corner, your brothers in the middle of the room, you can also see aegon at the opposite side of the table talking with a serious and very tall aemond.

you don’t look at him much longer, walking with helaena to converse with your brothers. but it doesn't matter how much you ignore aemond, you can feel his piercing gaze on you, following your every move.

it feels strange being in a room with aemond again, you never really thought about that possibility, not after you decided that aemond targaryen never existed.

"niece!" aegon's voice resonates in the room, drawing everyone's attention. you sigh, closing your eyes and trying to keep your composure. "won't you come say hello?"

you turn around, a big fake smile on your face. you know what he's doing, you know he wants you to react and embarrass yourself.

walking to them, you try to only look at aegon, but it is almost impossible since his brother is standing behind him.

"uncles," you bow your head and, after five years, you finally make eye contact with aemond targaryen.

you can see he's taller, his jaw is sharper, and his stance is different. if you didn't know him, you would feel intimidated. but you know in the inside he's just the same boy you grew up with.

aemond is the first to break the eye contact, and it hurts you to see the look of aversion and annoyance on his face.

"my wife-to-be is calling," aegon says with a mocking smile, already walking away, not giving you the chance to make an excuse.

you look everywhere but at aemond, fidgeting with you necklace.

"can you stop doing that? it is annoying." it's the first time you are hearing him talk, and his voice is soft and velvety even when he speaks with such disgust.

“you are annoying.” you know it’s childish but he’s acting so indifferent that all you want is to get a reaction from him. “that’s how you greet me after not seeing me for five years?”

“what do you want me to say?”

“did you ever read my letters?” there’s hope in your voice, maybe he did send you letters but got lost in the sea–

“yes,” he says, nodding. and a new piece of your heart breaks, shattering on the ground along the other million more. “what about that?”

“what about our promise?” you manage to say, holding back your tears. “i thought–”

“you thought wrong, princess.” he says, calm, smooth, like those letters— you, don’t matter to him. you sob, your hands immediately covering your mouth as you run out of there.

you imagined your reunion for a very long time, there were a million different scenarios in your head, but never one like this. you never thought aemond could be so mean.

you go to the only place you know you can find some peace, that’s how you end up in the godswood. however, there’s someone there. someone that stands up the second he sees the mess you are.

“my princess,” he bows, taking a few steps in your direction. “is something wrong? is someone chasing you?” he looks to the corridor but finds nothing, his gaze falling on you again.

“pardon me, my lord, it was not my intention to disturb you.” you wipe your tears, mortified at being seen like this.

"i will go get som–"

"no! please no…" you catch his arm and he stops, his big grey eyes looking at you hesitantly. "pardon me,” you let go of him, taking a couple of steps back, your gaze fixed on the ground. "i know how inappropriate this is."

"do not worry about it, princess."

you clear your throat, looking at him again. “i am being very disrespectful, this is not like me.” he chuckles and your blush hard, feeling embarrassed.

“are you sure you don’t need me to call for someone?” he really looks worried and that makes you smile.

“i am sure. but you… i would like some company, if you are comfortable with that.” he nods and hold his hand out for you. and is only then that you see the big and warm fur coat, a very characteristic pin on his chest. “you are a stark.” you state as you take his hand.

“i am.” his radiant smile tells you how proud he is of his bloodline. “cregan stark.” lord stark guides you to the bench he was sitting on when you interrupted him with your crying.

you feel like a fool, your mind was too clouded with thoughts about aemond and what happened earlier to recognize him.

“could you tell me what is it like to live there?” the smile plastered on his face contrasts with his imposing figure.

“oh, it is absolutely beautiful–”

“i am sure it is.”

your smile instantly disappears while lord stark stands up abruptly, like he had seen a ghost, and bows his head. but aemond doesn’t turn to look at him, his eye doesn’t leave your face, making you nervous.

“leave us.” he says harshly, his hands resting behind his back and the wind in his hair. he looks majestic and intimidating.

cregan stark turns to you, a look of concern on his face. you feel bad he’s not smiling anymore, it gave you a certain calm.

“do i need to repeat myself?” you sigh, nodding to the lord, letting him know that you will be okay. the last thing you want is a confrontation.

“i look forward to seeing you again, my princess.” lord stark holds your hand and kiss it, and you forced yourself to look away to hide the blush on your cheeks. “prince aemond.” he nods to him one more time before walking away.

there is just a minute of silence before aemond is walking towards you, grabbing your arm with slight force.

“have you forgotten your place?” he’s angry and you’re hurt, and that is not good for neither of you. “do you really are this stupid? you know what would happen if someone caught you alone with that man.”

his words hurts you, eyes filling with tears because of him for the second time in one night.

you pull away, refusing to look him in the eye. “the same thing if someone sees us right now.” all you want is to be alone and cry yourself to sleep, forgetting all about this day.

straightening your clothes and holding back the tears, you start walking in the same direction you came, but aemond blocks your way. he lifts your chin up with two of his fingers, his touch soft and gentle, the exact opposite of the look of anger and disgust on his face.

“there is a big difference between him and me,” he says, looking intently into your eyes, like waiting for something. “i know what men want and your lord stark is no different from them.” aemond brushes a strand of hair out of your face, feeling it between his fingers. “believe it or not, i’m looking out for you.”

“you have a funny way of showing it.”

“i am being sincere.” aemond shrugs, taking a step back and taking his initial stance. “we grew apart, things happen.”

“i did not want for this to happen! i waited three years for a letter… just one letter.” you blink rapidly, the last thing you want is to cry in front of him. “and when i ask you can’t give me a proper–”

“i am to marry one of jason lannister’s daughters.” he says and your whole world falls apart. “two moons after my brother’s wedding.”

you thought aemond was there to pick up the broken pieces of your heart and glue them together, when in reality he was ready to break them into tiny million pieces more.

aemond doesn’t look at you, instead he just looks behind you, and it makes you angry, sad and confused at the same time. you heard him loud and clear but you don’t understand what it means, he throws this big rock at you but doesn’t say anything else, waiting for you to give them meaning. is this his way of saying ‘sorry for not replying to your letters’? it can’t be because those words can mean a million different things that you are not ready to face. not today and not in this moment at least.

you try to act normal, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you.

“congratulations, prince aemond.” you smile through the pain, something you’ve mastered because, in reality, it feels like a slow and painful death. “i wish you a long and happy marriage.” you walk away with your head held high, smile faltering and legs trembling. you barely have time to go up the stairs leading to your bedchamber before falling to your knees, a sharp pain in your heart that has you gasping for air.

[sinnamonrolle]

[the little moments] ♡ Barbatos

9 - That moment when Barbatos froze time

✿ part of a series! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

“Thank you for inviting me. I really needed this.”

The sound of crystallization twinkled around you, gently melding with the waves from the lake. It almost resembled music, if not for the organic pacing. There was no rhythm or beat, just the creation and breaking of crystals according to the laws of nature. They would form in clusters, then, as if pushed over an edge, they would shatter and fall into the water, yet moments later, a new bud would grow, undeterred by its flexible and flimsy surface.

“Of course, I’m glad I could provide you with a chance to rest. It isn’t easy to live with the brothers.”

The gazebo was small, neat and tight against the edge of the lake, but it was beautifully designed and sculpted with elegant frames curving upwards to support the glass roof. If it weren’t for Barbatos telling you about it, you wouldn’t even have known there was a roof to begin with. Although it looked like it came straight from a fairytale, you felt a little out of place, like you were too mundane, too simple for such an elegant place that held so much history. 

Looking up, the eternal Devildom sky and its many stars winked back at you. You felt like some sort of royalty sitting at this expensive table, sipping your drink like you owned everything in this garden, despite the true owner sitting across from you at this very moment.

“Your drink is delicious too,” you said, looking at the round, lowball glass in your hands. Your eyes traveled up a little further, past the snow globe sitting at the center, and then reaching Barbatos’ hands—empty.

He smiled at you when you met his eyes.

“Where is your drink?” you asked, realizing how empty it was on his side of the table. Even though he carted over a whole tray of various sweets that, after taking a closer look, you found were all your favorites, he merely interlocked his fingers and watched you.

“I’ve already tasted it,” he said simply. His expression unchanging, he reached over to set one of the sweets next to you. “I believe this dessert goes extremely well with this drink. Why don’t you try it?”

You refused to look at it. “That’s not the point, Barbatos.”

“Oh?” Barbatos, who was in the middle of leaning back into his seat, paused, and turned to you, making such intense eye contact despite how mild his expression was that you forgot to breathe for just a second. So mild, so unreadable, you could only begin to guess at his thoughts. “That’s not the point?”

“No, no it isn’t,” you said firmly. “The point is that I can’t be the only one eating and drinking here, especially since you are the host. You’ve already done so much for me.”

Even if you felt just a smidge like royalty, that didn’t mean you let it get to your head.

As you began to push some of the sweets towards him, he laughed—a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter more than it should have, and what made it worse was the gloved hand that covered yours as he stopped you. Even through the fabric, you felt the heat seeping through, and you stilled, now focused entirely on the shape of his hand.

“While I did invite you so that you could have a break, I actually had something to ask of you as well,” Barbatos said, again with that same smile you’ve seen so many times before. You bit your lips, eyes flitting between his hand on top of yours and his dark olive eyes. “It’s nothing serious, just a curiosity of mine.”

“What is it?”

With his free hand, he took the snow globe sitting at the center of the table and pressed it into yours, clasping your hands along with the snow globe.

Barbatos… his hands… holding? Mine??

Pulling away with a soft squeeze, as if he could sense how distracted you were, he chuckled and called your name. “Do you know what this is?”

Yes, this is called “holding hands!” you almost blurted out, but if you did, not only would he be disappointed in your intelligence, he probably would never hold a meeting with you again, much less your hands. Whatever remained of your rationality kept your mouth tightly shut. 

You peered into the transparent globe. This snow globe was relatively simple in terms of decoration, having only a small pink sheep curled up in the middle that slept peacefully among the snow. But because it had been picked up earlier, some of the snow flew up and was now settling down again, covering the sheep with sprinkles of white.

It was such an adorable snow globe, you couldn’t help thinking. You wondered where Barbatos got it from, and if you could get one as well to put on your desk. 

“It’s just a snow globe,” you said, handing it back to him. “Why do you ask? These are pretty common.”

When he accepted the globe, the warm fabric of his gloves skimmed across your skin. You froze. The itchy sensation tickled your heart, as if urging you to act on whatever thoughts you had in your mind. You doused it with a big sip of your drink, letting the fruity taste distract you from the thoughts bouncing in your head. 

If you keep touching me, I’m going to go insane! This is worse than the brothers!

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, again with that same smile that seemed to never leave his face. You looked away to start cutting the sweets on your plate, putting maybe just a little too much force on the fork than you should have. “I’ve always found them intriguing.”

Tilting your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “What’s so interesting about them? They’re just snow globes.”

“It’s just amazing how humans, the majority of which are unable to use magic, invent their own form of magic,” Barbatos said, slowly spinning the globe around with his long, slender fingers. The agitated snow flew up again, covering everything inside in a flurry of white. Yet despite the commotion, the sheep slept ever so peacefully. “Demons may be powerful with all sorts of magic at our disposal, but we cannot compare to humans’ creativity.”

You watched the storm rage around the small sheep, as if the blizzard was a sort of barrier, or protection against the world beyond it. But to the sheep, that was its world. Was it trapped in this small glass? Or would it be better that this small world was all it had ever known, this paradise of eternal snow?

“We’re just desperate,” you said slowly. Your gaze landed on the lake beside you, just in time to see a cluster of crystalized magic fracture and fall apart, returning back to where it started, only to repeat the same process all over again. Unhurried, it bloomed at its own pace, as if time did not exist. “We spend our lifetime wishing for things. Those who want it bad enough just take matters into their own hands, and some end up more successful than others.”

Barbatos hummed, the low timbre of his voice tickling your ears. “It’s not so bad to be desperate,” he said. “As a result, you managed to create something so beautiful, similar to our time magic. It’s wonderful to see.”

He tapped on the snow globe, the muffled sound catching your attention. His eyes were narrowed with a playful smile that had you nervous but also surprised. It was rare for Barbatos to display anything other than an unreadable expression, smile included, on his face.

“Would you like to learn?” he asked, and of course you could never refuse when he’s the one asking you. How could you when he’s asking so nicely? Even though he was busy with his duties, he still offered his time and attention—this meet up, too. You could barely grasp how long the desserts he’s been stuffing you all this time took him to make.

The stuffy feeling in your chest curled up just like the edges of your lips. “Of course, I would love to.”

For a moment, he seemed satisfied. His lips were set softly, and his eyes were warm, gentle, indulging, as if the moment you asked for anything, he would do it for you without hesitation. As if you asked for the moon, he would also give you the stars, and he probably wouldn’t even sweat doing it.

“Perfect,” he said, getting up from his seat. He offered a hand to you, pulling you up when you accepted it. “Why don’t we save it for our next meeting? For now, shall I demonstrate?”

It wasn’t a question, because then, a wind blew, ruffling your clothes, and the temperature dropped, evident in the puff of fog that left your lips when you exhaled. It was currently summer in the devildom, so you were nowhere near prepared for the sudden temperature change. 

But of course, Barbatos, ever so thoughtful, set a hand, the same one that had helped you up earlier, on your arm. It fought away the chill biting away at your flesh, but it also increased your heart rate way too much for it to be healthy or normal. Not like you let it show.

He was just casting a spell, you told yourself, mentally smacking your face. Just casting a spell. 

“What do you think?” Barbatos said. Despite the magic being applied, he didn’t take away his hand, which slid down to cradle your elbow. Even through the spell, the warmth of his palm stood out, like it was burning wherever he touched.

Distracted, you almost missed his question. It took you an embarrassingly long time to gather the words scattered in your mind. He probably thought you were an idiot, but you didn’t let that stop you from answering.

Taking a look around you, you saw how the previously green leaves of the tree had now turned a deep red, tinging into purple at the edges. They slowly fell off with the wind blowing by, blanketing the ground with their regal crimson. Some even drifted onto the walkway. Although, at a certain point along the path, the autumn leaves stopped entirely, as if there was an invisible wall preventing them from going any further.

“How does this work exactly?” you asked, turning to Barbatos. “You didn’t only change the season, right?”

He regarded you softly with a smile that you had never seen on him before. It was a small smile, not unlike his normally polite ones, but it reached his eyes in that they crinkled so gently at the edges, the love bands underneath his eyes scrunching up in fondness, and if you squinted, there seemed to be a hint of pride lining his eyebrows. 

“You’re so observant, my dear,” he praised, and you felt your heart soar in your chest, expanding and expanding until something that you could only describe as a mess of warmth and gooey tenderness was the sole thing you felt coursing through your body. Nothing could beat compliments. Especially when it came from someone that you cared about. “Your observations are exactly right.”

He gestured at the scenery before you with his free hand, his white glove a stark contrast against the vibrant vegetation. “Although time magic has varied applications, this type is the most common in art. If it makes it easier to understand, the closest analogy is precisely the snowglobe.”

As if someone pressed the two times speed button, the leaves coating the ground withered and dried into scratchy piles of dead greys and muted oranges. Dark clouds soon rolled in after, followed by a gust of wind that, thankfully because of the spell, skimmed right over your skin. You looked up through the glass roof. Breathing out a cloud of fog, you saw that it had begun to snow.

“This technique isolates space,” Barbatos continued. “The isolated space has a separate flow of time decided by the caster. It could be sped up, slowed down, or completely stopped. Anything goes, which makes the art created with this technique so interesting.”

“I can see why,” you said, laughing. “I never knew the garden looked so pretty in winter.” 

With the snowfall came a sort of quiet that only a dark winter night could bring, a kind of chilling hush that fell over the land and slept softly against the white expanse of snow. It was something you didn’t know you missed until this moment. How long had it been since things were this peaceful? 

Barbatos’ grasp on your arm tightened. “You should visit more frequently,” he said in a light voice, watching the snowflakes flutter down. “I don’t see you very often.”

Nothing changed, but something felt different from before.

You reached out a hand. As if it had been summoned, a single, tiny snowflake, one among the indistinctive many, arrived and landed on your palm. In a second, or maybe even less, it melted as quickly as it came. It barely left anything behind, like it had just simply vanished, disappeared into the darkness from where it came. 

There was an itch of guilt in your chest.

“I should,” you finally responded. “I’m sorry, Barbatos.”

He drew nearer. If he was close before, he was closer now, to the point where he could wrap his arms around you in a hug if he just extended his arms. It was such a fragile distance. 

“What is there for you to apologize for?” he asked, his other hand coming up to softly clasp yours, the one the snowflake fell on. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You attempted a smile, but you didn’t think it was particularly convincing. “Maybe I’ll move into the castle. That way I can see you more,” you joked, but you knew it would likely never happen. Diavolo probably wouldn’t mind, but then what about the brothers? What about the rest of the Devildom, the ones that saw you as nothing more than some human? 

What right did you have?

Barbatos leaned towards you, his head just shy of touching yours. He looked intently at you. “My dear,” he said slowly, softly, as if he was afraid that you would miss his words if he went any faster. “You can have anything you want. As long as it is what you truly desire.”

“...Anything?” you whispered.

“Anything,” he promised, and that was enough.

There was something in your throat, something sour that stuck around and refused to come out, and you didn’t know whether to cry or smile, so you did an odd combination of both where it came out more like a wince with your furrowed eyebrows and curled lips, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Your vision blurred, and you guessed that your body chose to cry after all.

You tried a laugh. “You’re so silly, you know,” you said with a trembling voice. “Promising me ‘anything.’ You can’t go back on your words, okay?”

“What kind of demon would I be to go back on my words?” Barbatos said, but you’re pretty sure he was joking. He smiled, and you found that you couldn’t really say anything back when he smiled like that. “Let me give you a gift.”

When he looked down at your hand, you followed his gaze only to see a snowflake in your palm. You thought another one had landed until it melted and crystallized and melted again, all within the span of a couple seconds.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “It’s your snowflake now. It’ll be with you until the end of time.”

You almost couldn’t believe his words. Who could lay claim on a singular snowflake? Yet he had clearly done so just now, so nonchalantly, so casually as if it was something normal that anyone could accomplish and give as a gift.

“What if I lose it?” you choked out, staring worryingly at the timeless, ever transforming droplet of water. “It’s so tiny.”

Barbatos chuckled quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Fondly, he said, “You won’t, my dear. Why don’t you take a closer look?”

Following his words, you studied the snowflake closer, tilting your hand this way and that, when suddenly, the light caught against something around the snowflake. You tried again. A sparkle glinted back at you, and you realized it was from a thin layer of something resembling a plastic film wrapped around the snowflake, encasing it, isolating it from the outside world. A notch stuck out at the top, like it was meant to hook onto something.

It had become… a pendant.

You looked at Barbatos, incredulous at how he came up with an idea like this. He met your exasperated look with a calm smile and gentle, olive green eyes. But at that moment, you fully realized the weight of his words, that he had already begun to fulfill his promise, that his gift meant more than a mere gift.

Anything, he said. Anything. 

If you wanted the moon, he would even give you the stars.

“Barbatos,” you said, and he responded with an attentive hum. “If you ever go back on your words, I think I’ll cry.”

Finally, finally, his forehead rested against yours, as if he had finally allowed himself to do so. The fragile distance between you two had closed. But even though he was so close that you could see the bright green specks in his eyes, you still couldn’t figure out what was going through his mind. Would you ever?

Maybe, the day you find out would be the day you would be able to give him anything he wanted. 

“Please, don’t cry,” he said, and suddenly his voice was so loud, so firm against the swaying snow. His hands were so warm. “I may be a demon, but I’ll always be your demon.”

A cozy feeling tickled your heart.

-------

im sorry this is so late OTL

but don't worry, this series will eventually be finished!

Masterlist!

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction ~ Every Rule

Non!Idol AU, forbidden love tropes!!!! 

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN: “When your lips brushed against my skin, all I wanted was to let you in. I wonder if people will notice” 

The small closet you were standing in didn't give you much space between your bodies, your chests were rising and falling in sync with one another as you stared into Chan's eyes.

"You look so good tonight." He whispered, running his hand over your cheek and stroking his thumb over your skin. Your heart felt as though it was about ready to explode right out of your chest, it had been far too long since the two of you had gotten to be alone together and even now it was a race against the clock.

"C-Channie," You stuttered out, whining when you felt his lips kissing down your neck your body reacted to his touch instantly as you melted into his touch.

"We don't have long," You reminded him, your fingers gently moving to run through his hair as he held you close to him too afraid to let you go because he knew sooner or later you'd have to go back to pretending not to know one another.

"I wonder if people would even notice." He whispered slowly pulling away and looking into your eyes and you felt your heart leap into your throat. Forbidden love was always written out to be either tragic or the best love in the world but no one describes how earth-shattering it was to see the love of your life have to be with someone else while the two of you wanted to be with one another.

"You wonder if people would notice you sneaking into a closet with someone you're forbidden from seeing?" You teased softly and laid your head on his chest, enjoying the moment you had with one another.

"We could run away," He smirks, running his hands up and down the small of your back. This was what the two of you would do whenever you got a chance alone together, fantasise about the life you could have if you just ran away from this one. Away from family obligations and expectations you knew you were supposed to meet but never could.

"Pretty sure your future wife would be pretty annoyed at that one," You reminded him and it was as though someone had poured ice over the two of you. Pretty soon there would be no more running around and sneaking to meet with one another, there would be a wife for him and a husband for you something the two of you had known about for months now but was only just becoming a reality.

"You know I only want you, right?" He questioned, forcing you to look at him as you let out a shakey breath and nodded your head.

"So let's go. Let's go and get married right now," A deep frown made its way between your brows as you stared up at the man in front of you,

"What?" Your heart had practically stopped beating at this point as you listened to him, marrying Chan would be incredible in an ideal world.

"Fuck it, they can't make us marry someone else if we're already married...They won't be able to do anything if we're together," His mind was racing at 100 times a second but he didn't care, this was the best idea he'd thought of all night.

"Really?" You stuttered out a little, staring at him and making sure he was serious about this.

"I'll meet you outside in my car, go right now. Don't wait, don't tell anyone...Let's just go," He whispered, leaning down and kissing you deeply you giggled a little nodding as you rushed out of the closet and tried to rush down to his car without being seen. 

It was going to be the beginning of a beautiful future for the two of you but a hard reality for your families, they'd be forced to deal with their differences since their heirs were married to one another.

MINHO:  You were with somebody long term and I was with somebody else as well 

Your eyes met Minho's from across the room and you smiled a little, a blush crept onto his cheeks as he made his way over to you sneaking his hand into your grasp. There was a time the two of you could never be seen together like this, not in a million years and yet here you were at your wedding and holding onto one another in such a public setting. If someone would have told you months ago that this was where you would be right now you never would have believed them. You probably would have laughed in their face for trying to fill your head with false confidence.

"I never thought I'd get a moment like this with you," He told you as he gently lifted your hand to his lips and left a small kiss on the top of your palm making your whole body heat up. It was something so simple and sweet but being so open about your love for each other made your whole body heat up.

"I never would have imagined getting this life with you," You said as you made your way over to the main table the two of you were sitting together at, all eyes on you both as you spoke quietly to one another. Your love story wasn't a cute and romantic one, it was full of sneaking around and pretending to hate one another while you were secretly in love.

"You were with somebody long term and I was with somebody else as well...But we made it work," Minho smirked as you looked at him. The two of you had been in long-term relationships when you met one another but neither of you had been happy up until you met each other. Minho was in a loveless relationship for the sake of his family while you were in one due to blackmail on the man's end. 

"But we're together now and that's all that matters," You smiled a little as you glanced in the direction of the doors. All night long you'd been worried about his ex storming into the reception and ruining everything but nothing had happened. Not since the last time she'd tried to make a scene at least,

"She's not going to come," He reassured you, running his hand over your shoulder and rubbing softly as you smiled weakly doing your best not to think about it but it was hard when the whole thing consumed you.

"We're together now, what was going on before us is over...It's just you and me," He promised as you cuddled into his side, taking in a deep breath and smiling to yourself as you realised you wouldn't have to hide anymore, no more sneaking through each other's windows or making up fake appointments to be able to see one another. It was just you and him against the world.

CHANGBIN: We know its wrong, but it feels real fun. Sneaking around, falling deep in love

"Changbin?" You called out into the darkness, your phone clutched tightly into your chest as you looked around in the park for Changbin. It was dark as hell thanks to it being almost 2 in the morning and the park having little to no lampposts around to light the way.

"Yn!" He yells out, waving his torch above his head and chuckling when he saw you sprinting over in his direction, your cheeks flaming when you saw what he was doing in the park.

"A picnic at 2 in the morning?" You giggled, slowly sitting down beside him as he nodded at you wrapping you in a blanket to make sure you were warm enough. The small picnic blanket was set up with all kinds of warm foods, including a thermos that Changbin had made sure to prepare with your favourite hot drink inside.

"Only the best for you," He teased before kissing your cheeks softly and making you laugh a little. It was wrong for you to be sneaking out of the house so late at night but Changbin always made it feel so right for the two of you, doing romantic things like this. Just last month the two of you had gone on a spontaneous 1 am trip to the beach so you could be together alone for a while. 

"If your parents knew you were seeing me, they'd kill you." You reminded him as he smirked at you, winking at you as he pulled you close to him and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"That's part of the fun, sneaking around together." You whined at him and pushed him away from you a little before taking the food and starting to eat. The two of you had been doing this for months now, you knew your parents would never approve of a relationship between you but you couldn't stay away from each other.

So the two of you had been reduced to sneaking around and pretending not to know one another whenever you saw each other in public or whenever your families would attend the same parties. Changbin stared at you as you eat the homecooked food and he felt his heart swelling, before he could even stop the words from coming out or even realising what he was saying,

"I love you," You stopped eating mid-chew and turned to stare at him, there was kimchi running down your chin and he smirked at you wiping it away with a napkin.

"I love you too," You whispered, you'd been so afraid to say it at first but hearing him admit it made your entire body ache for him and he chuckled at you.

"Eventually we'll have to tell people," You reminded him as he nodded at you, bringing you to sit on his lap as he fed you more food.

"I know," He chuckled as you stared at him, you weren't intentionally trying to put him off just trying to remind him of what would happen now.

"And that means having to face each other's families." You told him as he nodded, kissing you deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"If it means keeping you, I'm fine with facing your mum." He said making you giggle a little, he had always been more afraid of your mother than he was your father and for good reason too.

HYUNJIN: Cause I know it’s unfair I’m hurting someone else instead. I’m breaking every rule for you

Hyunjin stared at you as you paced back and forth in front of him and he bit down on his lip a little. It had been ten minutes since you started pacing in front of him and mumbling that this was the last time you were ever going to see each other. Though you had said this the last time you were together and he hadn't believed you then and he didn't believe you now.

"You said it was the last time, the last time we were together," He reminded you as you run your hands over your face, your heart racing as you shook your head at him, what the two of you had was pure connection and love but at what cost? You were both in relationships with other people and yet here you were running around behind your partner's back and cheating on them.

"We shouldn't be doing this," You breathed out as he stood up and stood in front of you, stopping your pacing in your tracks and forcing you to look at him.

"I know," He whispered, holding your face in his hands and gently running his thumb along your skin as tears began to build up in your eyes. You'd never wanted to hurt anybody but your connection with Hyunjin had been too strong to resist.

"It's unfair to them," You whined as he nodded, kissing away the tears that were beginning to run down your cheeks and pulling you close to him as you sniffled.

"Breaking every single rule when it comes to relationships and I'm doing it for you." You looked up at him as you spoke and he smiled weakly,

"I'll end it, tonight." He promised you. The only reason he hadn't was that there were too many expectations from his family about his relationship, he needed to be with her to make some business deal go right but he didn't want that life. He wanted you and you wanted him and that should have been the only thing that mattered.

"Tonight?" Your heart was in your throat as he nodded his head, smiling down at you as he promised he would make everything right between you both. No sneaking, no hiding, just the two of you out in the open with nothing coming between you.

JISUNG: You’re breaking every rule for me, I’m breaking every rule for you. But I gotta say I want it this way. These moments set me free

Nothing could beat the moments like these when there was nothing else going on around you, just the two of you together with no one else being able to dictate what you could or couldn't do. The moments when you felt free to be whoever you wanted, to be WITH whoever you wanted and not have to worry about what everyone else around you thought.

"You look relaxed," Jisung smirked when he turned to look at you, the two of you were lying on a beach together out in the open. Free to be together because not a single person on this beach knew who you were and they certainly didn't care that you were dating your father's rival's son.

"I am," You giggled turning to look at him through your sunglasses and smirking at him. The two of you were breaking every single rule together by being here but neither of you cared, it was what made you feel free. You didn't care about your parents having some argument years ago and never making up for it, all you cared about was having one another close and forgetting the rest of the world. What your parents did should never have come between you and Jisung in the first place.

"You know, I was thinking before we go back to the hotel later we should go to a nice restaurant and have a date in a public place, somewhere we don't have to run from if we're seen too close." He smirked, inching himself closer to you as you cuddled into his side. The thought of going to a restaurant in Seoul would have been preposterous but being here together was something you could do whenever you wanted.

"We should just pack up and move here," You giggled, resting your chin on his chest and looking into his eyes, his hands gently running up and down your back.

"I totally would. I have the savings for it, early retirement at 23 sounds good," He smirked at you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. While you knew you'd never do it, it was nice to have something to dream about, somewhere to escape when the two of you could no longer stand being away from each other.

"We could buy a house on the beach front," You whispered, your eyes slowly shutting as you yawned a little, imagining your life here with Jisung while he agreed.

"Doing whatever we wanted with no fear." He whispered, looking down at you as you hummed tiredly and nodded your head and he smiled to himself, seriously thinking of doing just that.

FELIX: Cigarettes up on the balcony. Wrapped in nothing but sheets and we know that it’s wrong, but it feels fun

Felix smirked at you as he saw you coming out onto the balcony wrapped in nothing but a thin white sheet from the hotel bed and he couldn't stop the blush from forming on his cheeks. You looked absolutely beautiful like this, all his and with the freedom to be with you however, he wanted to be.

"We could get into a lot of trouble for being up here together," You reminded him as his smirk continued to grow on his cheeks, chuckling softly as he looked at you.

"Isn't that part of the fun," He leaned closer to you, kissing your lips softly as you let out a small whine at him. The two of you were alone at last after a month of not being able to be together and you were going to spend the entire weekend at this resort for as long as you could. No one here knew you or your family rivalry. You were free to be wherever you wanted here - under the careful watch of your bodyguards who were doing their best to keep your secret after all, they were together anyway.

"I was thinking tomorrow we can go to the waterpark," Felix said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head down against yours, smiling as he pressed his lips to yours.

"We're alone in a resort and instead of wanting to spend every second in bed you want to go to a waterpark?" You arched a brow and smirked.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you." You giggled kissing him and ran back into your room to find something you could wear for tomorrow, Felix chasing after you in a rush.

SEUMGMIN: In the morning we got coffee. Acting like strangers and told no friends, it wasn’t easy to pretend

 Your hands were shaking a little as you held onto the cup of coffee in front of you, trying to warm yourself up as you sat across from Seungmin who - for all intents and purposes you'd never met before in your life.

"It's so great that we have so many mutual friends! I can't believe you guys have never met before." Sana cried out as she looked at Seungmin and back at you, you refused to meet her eyes as you stared into the coffee in front of you. It was so wrong for you to be here but you had no choice in the matter, Seungmin and you ran in close circles with one another but you had to pretend as though you had never met before. If anyone found out about your secret relationship who knows what could happen you were pretending, pretending to have met for the first time and acting as though you weren't madly in love with one another.

"Is the coffee okay? Did I order it wrong?" Sana suddenly panicked when she noticed your apprehension to drink. You'd not told her your coffee order and she'd just ordered for you all which was super sweet of her.

"She likes it with sugar-" Before Seungmin had realised what he said he froze and looked at you, your eyes widening a fraction before returning to normal as you looked at him. You hadn't said a word in the line to Sana and your heart began to pound.

"Oh...How did you know?" Sana frowned looking at Seungmin as he raked his brain for some kind of explanation. If people found out you were together it could be disastrous for his job, he was training to become an actor and relationships were strictly off-bounds to him,

"That's what I heard Yn say in the line, you must not have heard her." He quickly shot out before Sana frowned but nodded her head, seemingly going along with what he said and you looked down at the cup again. It was going to be hard to pretend not to know one another but as soon as your friends saw you together once as nothing more than friends things could go smoother, hopefully. 

JEONGIN: Straight away, we started falling. Conversation never boring

"Hey! That's mine," You whined as Jeongin took your food and ate it for himself, smirking at you before winking playfully and tickling your sides flirtatiously.

"Sharing is caring baby," He chuckled making you roll your eyes at him and shake your head. The two of you were once again sneaking off to the back of the party and talking among yourselves.

"Do you think either of them notices?" You questioned, glancing over in the direction of your boyfriend who was standing very close to Jeongin's girlfriend - almost too close. His hand rested on her lower back as they exchanged secret and stolen glances with one another, something you'd noticed when you first met Jeongin.

"No, they're too busy lost with one another." He chuckled and dragged you closer to him. The two of you had known of your partner's cheating on you for a while but you'd done nothing about it since you'd done the same with Jeongin, it was wrong and unfair on everyone involved but neither of them seemed to notice and if they did they didn't care.

"From the moment I met you, I fell for you," Jeongin whispered as he looked at you and you knew it was all true. The two of you had met at a party just like this one, your partners had snuck off together leaving you alone at the back of the room to talk and right away there was chemistry between you and the conversation never stopped and it was never boring.

"Innie," You whispered feeling his hand snake around your waist until it was resting on you so casually, the two of you had been hiding your relationship which was more than you could say for your partners who hardly made an attempt to hide it. They were co-workers in the acting industry which meant they had to pretend they weren't together and instead had other partners which were where you and Joengin came in. Playing the dumb partners who "had no idea that the actor was cheating on them" when in fact, you knew everything even if they didn't know you knew.

"Just...Just one kiss, I miss your touch." He chuckled looking around at everyone around you, no one was paying attention to you they never did so you smirked, leaning into him and kissing him quickly and softly pulling away right as a waiter walked past you both.

"I'll see you later, she'll probably sneak out in the night so you can come by then," He said before slipping you the spare key to his hotel room, winking at you as he got up to go and make conversation with other people.