#have a sweet man who's trying to hide his depression

[gilbertscurls]

Down Bad ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, panic attack, suggestive, 12k words

Matt had no idea how he got there, how he found himself sitting in the living room, and Y/N, his ex-girlfriend cuddled up on the opposite couch with her new partner. He felt like it was some cruel joke when he came to visit Madison, his good friend, and he suddenly was met with the girl he was so in love with sitting there. And someone else had his arm wrapped around her.

When he walked in, and Madison came to greet him, his gaze immediately landed on you and… Vinnie Hacker. Matt didn’t think he’d ever felt such a painful pang in his chest before. He must have looked like he’d just been stabbed as he stood there staring at you. His jaw went slack and his heart dropped, and for a second, he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. Vinnie had an arm wrapped around you, and you were leaning against him with a smile.

He was standing there watching someone else touch you like it was no big deal, and he thought he might throw up. He suddenly felt like he’d been punched in the chest, and he could barely even breathe. Nick and Chris were behind him, and he was painfully aware that they were watching his reaction to his.

Finally, you stood up to hug his brothers hello, before you found yourself right in front of him. “Matt.” You nodded, not sure how to greet him.

He froze for a second.

She said my name, he thought.

You’d just said his name in that same sweet, soft voice, and he suddenly forgot how to talk.

You were standing right in front of him, only inches away.

“Hey,” he managed to answer weakly.

He desperately wanted to touch you, to grab you and pull you against him and hold you like he’d done dozens of times before…

“You, uh…”

His eyes were still fixated on Vinnie, who was just behind you the whole time.

“You look good,” he told you lamely.

You nodded. “Thanks. You too.”

He could tell you were a little uncomfortable, and it killed him. He wished you were wearing anything other than the skintight, low-cut dress you had on now. It looked amazing, but he could remember all the times you’d worn that around him, and seeing you in it now was driving him crazy.

He was still staring at Vinnie, fighting the urge to punch him in the face.

“Hey, man.” Vinnie reached to shake his hand, standing by your side.

Matt wanted to snap Vinnie’s wrist, but instead, he forced a smile as he shook his hand.

“Hey,” he replied.

His eyes darted between Vinnie and you, watching the way Vinnie put his arm back around you, and he felt like he was going to explode.

“Um…” you mumbled awkwardly. “Vinnie, this is Matt, my… My ex. Matt, this is Vinnie, my, um… Vinnie.”

Matt didn’t miss the way your voice caught on the words “my ex”.

He heard the awkward pause.

He heard you call Vinnie your Vinnie.

And he wanted to rip Vinnie’s other arm off when Vinnie pulled you against him as you talked.

Matt clenched his jaw and forced a smile, but he wanted to smash Vinnie’s face.

Nick and Chris were just watching this entire exchange from behind him, and Matt did not want to know what they were thinking right now. He was doing everything he could to make a polite conversation with a massive knot in his chest.

He was forcing himself to look at Vinnie’s face and ignore the fact that Vinnie was holding you against his chest, and he was trying to think of something to say.

He was feeling even more sick to his stomach.

You were so close to him that he could smell your perfume, and he could remember the way you’d smelled every time he’d buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent.

He could see the smooth, milky white skin of your neck and shoulders just a few inches from him, and he remembered how it tasted and how it smelled the first time he’d kissed it.

But then, hiding right in the corner of your cleavage, something piqued his attention.

You had a hickey on your neck.

The second he saw it, he felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest.

He was frozen in shock for a second.

Someone else had marked you.

He felt a rush of jealousy and rage and heartache and possessiveness all at once, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Vinnie was right there, holding you against him and holding you close, and Matt knew exactly how that hickey had gotten there…

Matt swallowed hard as he stared at it, and he felt the jealousy, anger, and hurt rush through him all over again.

You were his. You’d belonged to him, and someone else had marked you.

He stared at the hickey and wondered exactly how many times he’d done the same thing to your neck.

He tried to count, remembering the times he’d left love bites on your beautiful skin.

You’d always worn them proudly for the next couple of days, and he’d always liked reminding you that you were his.

He could almost hear his voice in his head again, whispering to you that you belonged to him every time he’d pressed his lips to your skin.

He’d tell you how beautiful you were while he left little love bites on your collarbones, and he’d always loved the way he knew they were still there the next day.

And now, as he stood right beside you, someone else had left a hickey on the same spot he’d claimed as his.

He’d marked you as his dozens of times over the past months, and now you were wearing someone else’s marks on your gorgeous neck…

Finally, Vinnie took you back to the couch, sitting so close to you. And Matt almost lost his mind.

He sat right beside you again, and Matt’s hands reflexively clenched into fists. He was watching Vinnie put his arm around you again, and he was watching you snuggle into him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Matt just stared at the way he was holding you, holding you so close, and he was fighting the urge to rip his arm off.

“So… Come on, sit with us,” Madison urged awkwardly, not sure how to cope with the situation.

Matt knew he had to sit down, even though he was desperate to avoid it. He forced himself to move, and he very carefully sat down on the loveseat across the couch. He didn’t want to make eye contact with Vinnie, and he didn’t want to keep staring at you either.

They were all sitting around just chatting now, and Matt felt like he wanted to throw up. He kept glancing at the hickey on your neck, and he kept watching the way Vinnie held you. He had his arm draped over your shoulders, and he was rubbing your upper arm with his thumb and touching you like it was no big deal

Matt wanted to grab him by the throat, and he was forcing himself to keep his hands balled up on his thighs instead. Every few seconds, he would glance at the little red mark on your neck, and he would feel another twinge of jealousy and possessiveness every single time.

Suddenly, Chris said something, and even though Matt didn’t catch any of it, he was grateful, because he could not have made conversation right now.

Vinnie smiled and ran his hand over your shoulder, his fingertips brushing your bare skin.

Matt clenched his jaw. He wanted to bite his tongue until it bled, and he wanted to scream and punch something.

He didn’t understand how Vinnie could be touching you like that with such a smug look on his face, and he wanted to murder him for thinking he had the right to put his hands on you.

He watched Vinnie brush his fingertips over your shoulder and trace along the edge of the fabric of your dress…

You were sitting there completely comfortable while someone else’s hands were on you, and Matt thought that might be even more upsetting than the hickey itself.

He was the one that was supposed to be touching you, holding you, rubbing your skin with his thumb like that…

Nobody else was supposed to have those privileges. Nobody.

Chris and Nick were chatting with Madison about something, and Matt was painfully aware that he should be engaging in the conversation. He kept his eyes on them, making sure they were distracted, before finally stealing a glance and you and Vinnie.

You were facing each other now, and he watched as Vinnie touched your cheek with his hand. He was touching your face, and he was doing it with such affection that he might as well have been declaring himself as your boyfriend.

Touching your face was the single most personal thing that Matt had ever done with you, and he wasn’t going to tolerate someone else daring to touch you that way.

He watched Vinnie put his hand against your cheek and slide it down to the side of your neck… He almost lost it when he touched the spot he’d just been staring at. He heard you giggle as Vinnie touched the hickey and he wanted to throw up.

“So…” Nick suddenly couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Are you two, like…?”

Finally, the question was out there.

Matt was desperate to know the answer.

He watched you and Vinnie share a look, and his heart was in his throat as he waited for the response.

You seemed to be communicating with the look.

You were just looking at him, and Matt could see a hint of nervousness on your face…

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he might have seen you bite your lip slightly.

A few more seconds of you just sitting there silently passed, and Matt realized that he was holding his breath.

You were both looking back and forth between each other and back to him and back to each other, and he was desperate for one of you to finally say something.

“We, um…” You let out a nervous chuckle. “We’re… Talking.”

Matt’s heart sank.

Somehow, hearing you say that was a million times worse than if you’d just said, “Yes”.

Talking.

You and Vinnie were discussing what you were to each other. Like you were deciding if you were dating.

He suddenly wanted to rip his hair out.

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

You had a hickey on your neck from Vinnie, and you were telling him that you were deciding if you were dating…

He suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, and he wanted to smash Vinnie’s face into a wall at the same time.

Talking wasn’t dating, and Matt felt a small flicker of relief that you hadn’t just told him that you were officially a couple yet.

But you had a hickey on your neck.

If his official boyfriend status still wasn’t established, how had that happened?

He glanced at the hickey again, his eyes tracing over the little red mark on your skin.

There was no way you’d just let someone else mark you if you didn’t think he was going to be your boyfriend…

And now you and Vinnie were discussing it, and it felt like he’d been stabbed straight through the heart.

But even if you weren’t dating, you were sleeping together. And that killed him.

Matt was staring at you, but his vision was starting to go blurry, his chest was getting tighter, and it was getting harder to breathe and he was so upset he felt like he was going to vomit all over the floor.

Somehow, he heard himself say, “You mean like… Dating?”

You licked your lips nervously. “We're... Seeing each other. Casually. For now.”

Casually.

His heart was beating so hard that he felt like it was going to burst through his chest, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

The idea that you’d decided to date casually was horrifying.

He couldn’t believe you’d just jump from an intense, passionate relationship with him to a casual dating scenario with Vinnie.

His first instinct was to protest… To say that you couldn’t do that… To tell you that you needed to break it off with Vinnie right now because you couldn’t make the transition… Couldn’t start casually dating someone right after the crazy, passionate situation that you’d just had with him…

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

He glanced down at the floor as he swallowed thickly, his mind starting to race with the new information.

“How long have you guys been seeing each other?” It was all he could think to ask.

His voice was raspy and cracked, but he needed to know. He had to know just how much he’d missed out on, how long you’d been with someone else instead of him.

"About a month," Vinnie answered with a grin, almost proudly, hugging you a little tighter.

Matt’s heart ached at Vinnie’s answer.

Three months. They’d been broken up for three months, and you’d been seeing Vinnie for a month. That meant he’d spent a month missing you—wishing he could be the one holding you like that, wishing he was the one to put his hands all over you like that—while someone else got to do it instead.

And now you were letting him do it, and you were even giggling about something while he was whispering into your ear and touching your skin with his fingertips.

Matt was starting to feel like he was underwater.

He was trying to take deep, steady breaths, but he felt like he was breathing in mud or something, like someone was holding his head under water and his lungs were filling up with something poisonous.

It had been three months of him missing you, of him crying over you, of him thinking of you.

And this was what you’d been doing instead of being with him. Of you dating someone else—someone so much worse than him—and of you letting someone else hold you and touch you like that.

He hated the way Vinnie’s hand was stroking your arm like he had the right to do that.

He hated the way your body was curled into his like you felt comfortable being so physically close to Vinnie.

But more than anything, he hated the way your hand was on Vinnie’s thigh, so casually… Like it was an everyday occurrence for you to touch someone else.

His eyes kept catching on that damn hickey, and he couldn’t help but stare at it again.

You were letting someone else give you love bites, and it made him feel like he might throw up.

Because how Vinnie could ever truly satisfy you? Did he really even know you? Did he know your needs? Knew what you liked? How you sounded? How you looked?

Of course, he didn’t know those things. And if he did, he couldn’t know all of them…

There was no way that Vinnie knew how to satisfy you like he could.

And that just made it all so much worse.

The fact that you were letting someone else touch you and claim you and make you giggle and make you smile and make your body sing and oh God, he was going to explode, he was going to scream, he couldn’t take this pain, he couldn’t breathe…

He was gripping his thighs so tightly now that his knuckles were white, and his chest was so tight that he couldn’t take deep enough breaths.

He could feel panic closing in around him, and he was just trying to fight the urge to grab you, and pull you away, and shake some sense into you.

He wanted to shake you until you realized that you didn’t belong with Vinnie, that you belonged with him, and that the way Vinnie was touching you was a crime because you were his, and his alone…

He didn’t care if Vinnie was more famous or more rich or more muscular or anything like that. He just knew that he knew you the best. He knew you the most intimately, and his love for you was more intense than anything Vinnie could offer.

He was the one who would have done anything for you, and he was the one who was so, so incredibly deeply in love with you that it was tearing him apart at the seams. He was the one who had taken the most care to learn your body and your needs specifically.

He couldn’t believe you’d let someone else touch you like that. He couldn’t believe you’d let someone else mark you like he had the right to claim you like that…

He knew he’d be gentle with you, and he knew he’d be soft with you, and he knew he’d be so, so damn passionate every time he put his mouth on you.

He knew your body and he knew the spots that made your toes curl and he knew the way you sounded when you came.

He couldn’t understand how you’d be satisfied with casually sleeping with Vinnie.

He could see you leaning up against Vinnie, laughing at something he was saying, and he felt like he was dying.

How could he be making you laugh like that when it was Matt who made you laugh so hard it sounded like the sweetest music on earth?

How could he be making you feel so casual and comfortable when the things Matt did to you made you melt into a puddle?

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He just couldn’t stomach watching you lean up against Vinnie and let him laugh and touch you and whisper into your ear and do all the things that Matt had been doing to you for months.

He knew he had no right to be feeling these things, and he knew that you didn’t belong to him anymore…

But goddamn, it still hurt.

He’d tried as hard as he could to contain himself, but he couldn’t do it anymore.

He suddenly shot to his feet and turned so fast that his head swam, making his way out of the room as quickly as possible without breaking into a run.

He managed to slam the bathroom door shut behind him, immediately lurching forward to catch himself on the sink.

There was a ringing in his ears, and his vision was still swimming a little from how fast he’d stood up, and he suddenly felt nauseous.

He gripped the edge of the sink so hard that his joints felt like they were threatening to pop, and he was struggling to pull in deep enough breaths.

Everything was just crashing into him all at once: the fact that you had a hickey on your neck, the fact that you’d been seeing someone else, the fact that it had been a month and he’d been missing you the entire time…

He suddenly felt like he was on fire, and he reached up to grab at his hair before doubling over, his stomach suddenly turning in an intense wave of nausea.

He hadn’t eaten much all day, and he was suddenly very dizzy, and he didn’t think he’d ever experienced this level of emotional pain in his entire life.

It was like he was being tortured: his entire body was aching from how much it hurt to experience this level of anguish.

He was gripping the edge of the sink so hard that he was surprised the porcelain didn’t crack under the pressure, and he was breathing so hard that he wondered if it was possible for a person to die of heartache.

His chest was agonizingly tight, and he was suddenly wondering if it was possible for a person’s heart to actually break.

He was gripping the side of the sink with one hand, and bracing his other one against the wall, and he was struggling to control his breathing long enough to force himself to inhale and exhale and stay standing.

He was bent over so far that his forehead was almost touching the cool countertop of the bathroom sink, and he was struggling to stay conscious and keep taking deep breaths…

For a second, he thought he was hallucinating when he heard a knock on the door.

It was like his mind was playing a trick on him, trying to convince him that there was someone on the other side of the door because he was so damn close to passing out…

Before he could realize it, he was already being helped to sit down on the cool bathroom floor, but everything was so blurry, that he barely could register anything.

He tried to focus, but he felt so disoriented.

The room was shifting in and out of focus, and his head was pounding, and the world was suddenly spinny and fuzzy and just… Wrong.

His vision focused for a few seconds, and he finally recognized who was helping him, and he suddenly couldn’t help but wonder if it might be better if he did pass out…

He stared up at you, his eyes searching your face.

Everything kind of slowed down as he looked at you, and it was almost like he was seeing you for the first time.

He took you in slowly as if he was suddenly memorizing every millimeter of you.

Your hair was a little rumpled, and your cheeks were flush, and he couldn’t tell if your eyes looked worried or concerned or both.

He was suddenly aware of the fact that you were leaning over him, studying his face, and he realized that you were holding him.

“Hey… Hey, can you hear me?” you asked but your voice sounded like he was underwater.

He tried to swallow, but he didn’t seem to have enough saliva in his mouth to make his throat move.

He suddenly remembered that you’d asked him a question, and he was trying to form some words, but he felt like his tongue didn’t work either.

He couldn’t figure out how to make any sounds.

“Breathe, okay?” His hand suddenly found itself pressed against your chest, feeling the steady beating of your heart. “Feel my heart. Try to match my breathing.”

He could feel the steady thumping of your heart under his palm, and he suddenly felt like he wanted to crawl inside your chest so he could burrow himself right up against your heart.

It was a steady, reassuring thump thump thump, and even if he couldn’t control the rest of his body, he at least seemed to be taking breaths in time with the beating of your heart.

You were always so good at helping him with his anxiety, with his panic attacks. You knew exactly what to do to make him calm down. But it didn't help much when the reason was you. You and your new lover.

He couldn’t help but remember a time when you’d been helping him through a panic attack in your bed… He couldn’t help but remember the way you would press your chest up against his back, and the way you’d whisper in his ear to try and soothe him.

It was just another thing that he’d taken for granted, and he’d been so damn clueless to not realize how spoiled he’d been that you’d done things like that for him…

And he suddenly wanted you to stop helping him, because even though you were being so gentle and careful while you talked to him, and even though you were holding him like he was the most valuable thing in your entire world, you weren’t his.

You were Vinnie’s, and he had never felt more painfully aware of that fact than he did at this very moment.

He tried to swallow again, and suddenly it was a little easier, and he almost had enough saliva in his mouth now.

And just like before, he could feel your heart thumping under his hand, and he suddenly didn’t want you to stop holding him, because it was the closest he’d been to your body in months, and even if you weren’t his anymore, he couldn’t get himself to stop craving you.

His hand was still pressed up against your chest, and he could feel your chest expanding against his palm every time you took a deep breath.

It was reminding him of the way you’d hold him when he was feeling particularly anxious. You liked to have him rest his head on your chest so that he could feel the movement of your breathing and mirror your breathing pace.

He suddenly realized that you were probably doing that on purpose, because you knew that it would help calm his breathing even more, and he wished that you’d just stop caring about him like this.

He loved the way you always knew exactly what to do to help him, and he loved how familiar you were with his anxiety, but it just made you leaving worse, because he knew that no one else could help him like you did.

He was suddenly reminded of the first time you’d ever helped him with a panic attack, and how you’d learned quickly to recognize the signs that he was starting to freak out.

You’d known what to look for in his body language, and you’d gotten so familiar with the way he tensed up, how his eyes unfocused, and how his breathing escalated whenever he started to struggle.

You noticed that he left suddenly, and you noticed that he was probably losing control, and you abandoned Vinnie to come and comfort him, even though he didn’t have any right to your comfort.

But you came anyways, and you knelt down and you held him the way you always did, and you were being so damn soft and so damn gentle with him, and he ached with how much he missed you…

“Are you okay?” you whispered suddenly.

He felt like that was such an awful, stupid question that it almost would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t asked it.

Because the answer was so obviously no, he was not okay.

He was so far from being okay that he couldn’t even see “okay” as a distant speck on the horizon

He was drowning. He was dying. He was breaking from missing you. From still loving you. From having to watch you with someone else.

Matt suddenly felt like he wanted to scream out how not okay he was, but he was worried that if he opened his mouth, the only sound that would come out would be a strangled whimper of pain.

His chest was aching with the way he still loved you, and every time he breathed, it felt like his heart was getting crushed.

He knew there was a certain amount of “emotional pain” that a person’s body could endure before it became literally intolerable, and he was suddenly wondering if a person could die of heartache.

He had this sick, twisted thought that maybe dying would be easier than dealing with the sharp, intense, overwhelming pain he had whenever he saw you.

Whenever he saw you smiling at Vinnie. Whenever he saw you laughing with Vinnie. Whenever he saw you leaning into Vinnie, with that look in your eyes…

“Please, I'm really worried.” He suddenly heard your quiet voice, full of concern.

He heard how worried you sounded, and he suddenly wanted to reassure you that he was fine.

He wanted to tell you that you could go back to Vinnie and that you didn’t need to worry about him, and that he didn’t want you to worry about him, and that he wanted you to be happy with Vinnie…

But he suddenly felt like he might start sobbing from how not fine he was if he tried to speak.

He tried to take in a deeper breath, but he knew he was on the verge of a really bad panic attack, because every time he tried to inhale, it got harder and harder for his chest to expand.

He was drowning, he was dying, and he suddenly couldn’t think of any way to make you stop being so goddamn concerned and worried about him right now.

He wanted to scream at you to go away, to stop being so soft, to stop touching him like this, and to stop making him remember all the things he loved about you.

But he could only focus on the movement of your chest under his, because every time you breathed, your chest gently expanded against his palm, reminding him of the way he’d sleep with his head on your chest at night.

“Matt, please, breathe…” you whispered desperately.

He was trying to breathe, but he suddenly felt like he couldn’t even remember how, and his chest felt so tight, and he didn’t know how to fix it because it suddenly felt like his body was rejecting every attempt he made at breathing and the more he tried to force himself to get a lungful of air, the worse it seemed to get.

He felt his heart rate speeding up again, and he felt like he was starting to hyperventilate, and he was terrified that he was going to pass out again, and he suddenly started to struggle to control his breathing even more.

And then, when nothing else worked, and he was on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen… Your lips suddenly were on his.

Every thought suddenly vanished from his mind, and all at once he was so overwhelmed with how perfect your lips felt against his that the only thing he could think about how good it felt…

He suddenly completely forgot about everything else, and he only focused on how it felt to have your breath mingling with his, and how it felt to have your lips working against his.

Your lips were so soft on his, and he remembered the way your mouths always seemed to fit so perfectly together and he felt like he’d been starving this entire time, and you were the only thing he’d been craving to fill the aching void inside him.

When you pulled away, he’d leaned up to follow you, and he’d almost whimpered at the loss of your mouth against his.

But he was breathing.

He was still struggling to get enough oxygen, but every breath was feeling less constricted than it had a minute ago.

He suddenly wanted you to kiss him again.

He wanted to feel your mouth on his for longer than the few short seconds you’d just given him, because he’d almost forgotten how much he’d craved something as simple as your kiss, and he suddenly wanted to beg you to kiss him again because at least if you were kissing him, you weren’t kissing Vinnie.

“Is that better?” you whispered, your voice still full of worry.

He could only nod because his chest was still tight as you looked at him with that worry-filled expression on your beautiful face.

He suddenly wanted to lie to you and tell you that he was fine and that you didn’t need to worry about him, and that you could go back to Vinnie without any guilt, but he’d never lied well enough to fool you before, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fool you now.

His chest suddenly ached from loving you so much.

His entire body ached from the desire he had for you, because his skin suddenly buzzed from how much he wanted to touch you, and he felt like he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching up to touch your face, or touch your hair, or run his fingers down your bare arms.

He was suddenly very aware of just how much of your skin he could see right now, and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from studying your body and remembering all the memories he harbored of what your skin felt like against his palms, or under his mouth.

He tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, but he suddenly couldn’t keep his attention away from the bare skin of your thighs, and he suddenly couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like underneath him, in the way he hadn’t had the privilege to do in months.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you’d look like on top of him, straddling his waist in the same way he used to hold you, and he suddenly felt like he could practically taste your skin in his mouth as he struggled to breathe around the desire he had for you.

“Matt, talk to me,” you said pleadingly.

He couldn’t talk to you, because if he’d opened his mouth, he was going to say something awful, like how he still loved you, or how he didn’t want you to be with anyone but him, or how he didn’t want you kissing anyone but him.

He suddenly didn’t trust himself to keep his tongue from spitting out the truth that he was dying inside because he still wanted you to be his.

Matt wanted to ask you why you kissed him. He wanted to know if you did it because you wanted to make him feel better, or if you just did it out of reflex.

He loved that you still seemed so worried for him, and he loved that you’d come to his aid, but he suddenly wished that you hadn’t done something like kiss him, because it just made loving you harder.

And as if you could read his mind, you explained. But then again, you always knew him better than he knew himself. “You couldn't breathe. And when… When I kissed you, you held your breath. I… I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack.”

He hated that you were right and that you’d probably read that somewhere, because he hated that you could fix him when he didn’t even deserve your help, and he suddenly didn’t trust himself to hold his tongue back any longer.

He suddenly felt like he had to let you know the truth, and he suddenly didn’t know how to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“I miss you.”

The words suddenly slipped out before he had the chance to stop them, and he sounded so desperate as he said them, and he knew that you hadn’t missed how helpless and lost he truly was, because you knew him too well now.

Your face suddenly fell, and Matt was almost sure he saw the exact moment when your heart broke.

He could see how those three words had clearly hurt you, and he hated that he caused you pain, in any form, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring into your eyes and telling you the truth.

“I miss you, all the time.”

He suddenly felt like if he said those words out loud, you might understand just how badly he was aching from missing you, and how he couldn’t get through each passing day without hurting from how much he still longed for you.

“Matt…” You sighed, your voice broken.

He loved how soft your voice still was when you spoke his name, and he ached with longing for you, even as he stared into your eyes.

“I miss you every night when I go to bed,” he suddenly blurted out, because he couldn’t hold anything back from you now.

He didn’t have the power to hold his tongue back anymore, because you were staring at him with your big, beautiful eyes, and he was drowning in how much he missed you.

“I sleep on your side of the bed because it still smells like you,” he whispered, the words rushing out like he couldn’t stop the truth from leaving his mouth now.

He felt like he was confessing his deepest, darkest secret to you now, but he felt like he just needed you to know how much he was aching without you, and how badly he was struggling without being able to curl up against you.

“I’ve taken your pillows and your blankets, but nothing is as soft as you are,” he confessed in a voice that he couldn’t control anymore.

He felt like he was spilling his soul into your hands, opening up about the small details of how he’d been coping without you, and how he’d just been aching and struggling and missing you every single night.

“All day, every day, I just miss you,” he got out in a voice that sounded strangled.

He felt like he couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat, and he felt like he wanted to beg you to come back to him, and to stop making him so damn lonely all of the time…

“I… I can’t eat,” he blurted out, and his voice sounded thick, raspy, and choked up.

Matt suddenly felt like he didn’t want to admit to you how he’d lost weight since you’d left because he didn’t want you to be so worried for him, but he suddenly needed you to know, so that you knew how badly you were affecting how he was taking care of himself.

“I skip meals,” he got out in another confession because he could tell you were looking worried for him now, and he suddenly had to get it out before you could start fretting about him. “I don’t mean to, but when I think of eating, it makes my stomach hurt. And when I try to force myself to eat, I get sick to my stomach, and I feel like I’m gonna puke it right back up.”

Your eyes were full of tears, and you were covering your lips with your hand, but you were listening.

“I can never sleep for more than a few hours,” he whispered next because he suddenly felt like he needed you to know just how much restlessness haunted him now. “And… And whenever I go too long without sleeping, my anxiety gets worse.”

“My chest gets really tight, and I have nightmares,” he confessed because he knew that you needed to know how much his mental health was deteriorating without you because you always seemed to be the thing that grounded him from spiraling into anxiety attacks or breakdowns.

He wanted you to know every little detail of how he’d been struggling without you.

“I have these nightmares every night, but… But they feel like they could be real, and they make me so scared to go to sleep because I dream about losing you,” he admitted because he felt like he had to explain just how scared he was of losing you altogether.

He suddenly wanted you to understand how his thoughts consumed him, without you to help him stay focused.

“And when I’m awake, I can’t stop thinking,” he blurted out. “My mind is racing all the time, because I can’t stop thinking about you, and I can’t stop missing you, and my mind just won’t stop screaming for you. All. The. Time…”

“And my head hurts. My heart hurts. My chest hurts. My stomach hurts. I ache everywhere without you. And, and, I just need you…” he admitted in a voice that sounded like he was broken.

“Matt…” you whispered once again, your voice breaking.

“I need you,” he repeated, and he was desperate for you to understand how badly he was struggling without you. “I can’t… I can’t sleep without you. I can’t eat without you. I can’t shower without imagining you’re with me, because I just need you all the time. In every way.”

“And it hurts so badly,” he got out in a raspy voice, finally admitting the aching he’d been suffering through for so long. “It hurts so badly that I can’t hug you, or touch you, or… Or, or be with you. I can’t stop missing you. I can’t stop craving you. I can’t stop loving you…”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you continued to silently cry, not even sure what to say anymore.

He suddenly couldn’t keep himself from confessing his thoughts to you.

“And, and it’s been hell without you, imagining you with another guy,” he blurted out, unable to keep himself from admitting how much he hated that you were with someone other than him.

“And, and I keep thinking about how he’s kissing you, and touching you, and taking you, and I just— God, how I hate him,” he got out in a strangled voice, and he felt like he was going to be sick…

“It just makes me so, so, so sick, thinking about how he gets to touch you now. How he gets to kiss you, and touch your bare skin, and taste you, and— God, I just— I just fucking hate it,” he whispered in a voice that still sounded broken, aching, and desperate.

“It’s driving me crazy to think that he can touch you, and taste you, and be with you when I want you so badly I can’t see straight.”

Matt knew he sounded possessive and obsessive, but he couldn’t help it, because he had been wanting you so badly for so goddamn long now.

“It hurts so bad to think about you with him. And how he gets to have you… I can’t stop thinking about you in bed with him. And— and— I just—” he suddenly trailed off, because he felt like his heart was throbbing inside his chest

“I just… God, I just want you back,” he whispered in an aching voice because he felt like he’d been dying inside without you. “So badly… I’ve just been wanting you so damn badly, and I just… I just can’t stop…” he repeated, and he suddenly felt like he’d never stop aching for you.

“You're the one who ended things,” you reminded him in a broken whisper.

He suddenly felt like a knife plunged into his heart as you reminded him that he was the one who had ended things between you.

Of course, he knew that he was the one who had walked away from you. Of course, he knew that his reasons hadn’t been the best ones and that they hadn’t been good enough to justify his decision.

But God, hearing you say those words to him, it felt like you were reminding him that he was to blame for his suffering now.

His eyes suddenly blurred from unfallen tears, and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I…” he whispered faintly, trying to form a response to explain himself, since you still didn’t know exactly why he’d ended things with you.

“I…” he suddenly whispered again, because he felt like he was drowning from how badly he’d missed you, and from how he’d just exposed how broken he was.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and he could hear how raspy his own voice was sounding, and he felt his throat suddenly closing up on him now. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“I was waiting for you for over a month,” you whispered, your voice choked. “And you waited until I started to move on to say anything.”

He felt like his throat was going to close up on him, and he felt like it was impossible to even swallow as he remembered how he’d just let you wait for him.

God, he’d been such an idiot for making you wait for him this entire time, and he knew it had been wrong of him, and now you were moving on, and it was his fault.

“I… I was… I was scared,” he confessed because he didn’t have the heart to lie to you.

He just couldn’t hold the truth in any longer.

“I was scared to reach out again, even though I’d been missing you the entire time,” he whispered because he knew you’d been right. He’d waited too damn long.

You sighed shakily. “Vinnie… Is a really nice guy. He treats me really good, Matt.”

His entire body suddenly felt like it stung from how badly he didn’t want to hear how you were with a nice guy.

“Yeah?” he whispered, but he didn’t care right now how you were being treated by someone else.

He suddenly didn’t care how nice he was to you.

He suddenly didn’t care how much you probably liked Vinnie.

He suddenly only cared about what he wanted from you, and how badly he missed you.

“Does he hold you tight?” he blurted out, suddenly desperate to learn everything he could about you now that you were with another guy. “Does he touch you?”

The words were rushing out of him before he’d even had the chance to stop them.

Your eyes widened as he caught you off guard, but you answered anyway, “Yes. He does.”

His heart throbbed at your answer, and he suddenly felt sick from learning that you let another guy touch you the same way he used to touch you.

“Does he kiss you?” he whispered desperately, unable to stop himself from learning the answer.

“Yes,” you whispered shakily.

His stomach churned and ached as you admitted that you’d been kissing someone else other than him.

“Does he… Does he make you feel good?” he whispered, and suddenly he just had to know if this guy was giving you everything he’d used to give you. He felt like his entire body was throbbing from how badly he wanted to know if you liked doing those things with this Vinnie guy. “Does he… Does he please you?”

“He does.”

He felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest, and he felt like he’d been punched as you admitted that this Vinnie guy was pleasing you just as well as he used to…

He didn’t know how the hell to respond to that information, as he felt like he’d been stabbed, but he just couldn’t stop himself from asking another question.

“Are you… Does he, um… Does he make you, um…” Matt tried to ask you another question, but suddenly couldn’t get it out of his mouth, because he felt like he was choking at even just the thought of this guy touching you in any way.

But you understood anyway, your voice being a broken whisper. “Yes.”

His heart stung and ached even more as you confirmed his suspicions that this Vinnie guy was… He was giving you what you needed.

He could feel himself choking at that realization.

He closed his eyes, and he suddenly was trying to take a deep breath, but his entire body was aching so badly now, and his chest was so damn tight…

Matt suddenly didn’t even really have any more words, because there wasn’t anything else he could say to you. He’d gotten the answers to his questions, and he’d learned that he really was too late to salvage anything between you.

He opened his eyes and looked at you once again, and he suddenly had to swallow down a thick lump in his throat as he gazed at your face. Your eyes were sparkling faintly, probably from tears, but he didn’t know if they were tears of happiness or tears of sadness.

He didn’t know if you were happy with this other guy, or if you were still just as miserable and lonely as him.

He just wanted to know if he’d lost his chance at the only thing that would ever make him completely happy.

“Are you… Do you love him?” he whispered because it was the only question he could think to ask now.

Your eyes widened before you averted your gaze, not answering. The first question you didn't answer.

His stomach churned and ached at your silence, and he took a shuddering breath as he realized that her silence was a much louder answer than you knew.

But he still wanted you to say the words, just so that he could know for sure.

“Y/N,” he whispered, and his voice was raspy from how badly he was aching from this. “Are you in love with him?”

And then, his world came to a halt. Because you said, „No.”

Matt felt like his heart skipped a beat, and he felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he heard the word ‘no’ come out of your mouth.

He stared at you for a few seconds, and his head suddenly started to spin at what you’d just confessed to him…

“W… What?” he choked out, his voice strangled.

“Not yet, at least,” you clarified quietly.

Not yet. Yet. Meaning you weren’t in love with him right now, but someday, you could be…

Somehow, that little yet was the worst thing you could’ve said to him, because it gave him some kind of sickening hope that maybe, somehow, he still had some kind of chance with you.

He felt a fresh wave of nausea as he thought about it.

Someday, you could end up falling in love with this guy.

And someday, you could end up marrying him.

All of these thoughts suddenly swirled in his head, and he felt like his whole world was closing in around him now, like he couldn’t breathe…

He was overwhelmed by the idea of that, of you someday falling in love with this guy, of you someday marrying him, and of you someday doing all the things that you’d once said you’d only do with him…

He couldn’t breathe, and his body was suddenly shaking so badly that he thought he’d fall if he wasn't already sitting on the floor.

Matt closed his eyes because it was all too much.

It was too much, to think about you someday doing all the things you’d once said you only want to do with him with someone else.

It was too much, to think about you falling in love with anyone other than him.

He suddenly felt so, so alone, more than he’d ever felt in his life.

Matt heard a strangled sound come out of his own throat, and he realized that it was a strangled sob and that the tears had finally started spilling over his eyes.

“Please,” he heard himself whispering, and he felt so desperate now that he was so on the edge. “Please don’t fall in love with him…”

“Matt…” You sighed shakily.

He suddenly heard his own broken voice begging you.

“Please, please, please, don’t,” he pleaded, and God, he could hear desperation in his voice. “Please don’t fall in love with him, because… God, I just—”

He cut himself off, feeling like his heart was breaking all over again at how utterly hopeless this was.

His shoulders shuddered with a sob, and hot tears burned his throat and his eyes as he stared at you, still begging you not to fall in love with him. “Because, and, if you love him, then… then I… I…”

He stopped as his breath suddenly caught in his chest, because he felt like saying what he was about to say would just break his heart again, and he wouldn’t be able to survive it this time.

But no matter how awful and sickening it would be, he knew that he had to say it.

“If you fall in love with him, I won’t—“ he blurted out, his voice shaky, cracking, and breaking, “I won’t be able to survive it… I already can’t breathe without you…”

“I've waited… For you to call, for you to text me… For two months. And you didn't,” you whispered. “And when... And when I decided it was time to move on, you… You say all that.”

He felt a new wave of nausea at that, knowing just how badly he’d screwed up for you to say those words to him.

Of course, you had to move on. He hadn’t given you much of a choice, now had he?

The last three months had been hell, and he’d been so damn scared and hopeless.

And now, he was hearing the bitter truth that he’d driven you straight to another guy’s arms.

Matt let out another strangled sob as you pointed it out to him, because God, it was just too painful and horrible to hear out loud.

“I… I waited too long… I know I did…” he replied, in a strangled voice. “I just was so… so scared to reach out… because… I didn’t think you’d even want to hear from me…”

He squeezed his eyes closed, and he pressed a hand to his chest as if he were trying to slow his racing heart. The pain and the heartache of these last three months had been nearly too much to handle, and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from admitting it to you now.

“I… I didn’t think you’d even want to see me…” he whispered, and his voice broke, and he suddenly wasn’t even capable of keeping the tears from flowing down his face now.

Matt looked at you again, seeing the pain on your face, and feeling another wave of nausea at being the cause of it.

Jesus, he’d really, really done a number on you by leaving you…

He swallowed hard because he didn’t know what else to say right now, and he was trying to force himself to breathe because he suddenly didn’t even feel like he could right now.

He took a few more shaky breaths, trying to still his racing heart, because God, he was just so overwhelmed and overcome by seeing you and talking to you right now, and by learning that you were with someone else, and by admitting that he’d nearly driven himself to utter depression by leaving you.

“I just… I need… I need to know one thing. Are you happy?” he suddenly asked, and he didn’t even know if he wanted to know the answer, because it had been torture to think about you being with someone else, and it had been hell to think about you being happier with someone else.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. There was a clear conflict in your eyes. And you didn't answer.

Matt suddenly felt like he was being punched in the stomach by how silent you remained, how you weren’t saying anything.

He felt utterly sick at your silence because it was so obvious now that you weren’t… You weren’t happy. He’d always been able to tell when you were really, really happy, and he hadn’t seen that look on your face when you’d been talking about that guy.

No, you weren’t. You were miserable.

It hurt more than he could express just hearing it in your silence.

It hurt like hell to know that you weren’t even happy with someone else…

“God,” he whispered, as the anguish of your silence suddenly hit him full force, and his shoulders started to shake again. “God, I feel so sick…”

He pressed a trembling hand to his mouth, trying to hold back another strangled sob from escaping his throat as he felt sick to his stomach just thinking about you being miserable and alone while still being with someone else.

He’d put you through this… He’d put you through hell, and he’d made you miserable…

And that made him feel like a piece of utter scum.

His body shuddered with another sob, and tears were falling freely again, and he felt so utterly helpless and hopeless at how screwed up this situation was.

“Jesus, please… I don’t want you to be miserable…” he whispered, and his own heartbreak was practically written all over his face now. “Please don’t be miserable…”

“I'm not miserable,” you whispered shakily. “Just… Not as happy as I used to be.”

He felt like your words had just stabbed him.

Hearing that you weren’t as happy as you used to be was so much worse than finding out you were miserable… Because you used to be utterly happy when you’d been with him.

“God, I… I can’t…” he whispered, and suddenly another strangled sob escaped his throat. “I can’t stand hearing that you’re not as happy…”

He pressed a hand to his mouth and shuddered again, trying to suppress the sudden, overwhelming urge to throw up right now as the grief just kept piling up.

You’d been so happy when you’d been with him. It was so obvious. He’d seen how happy you’d been. And now… now, you were just… not.

He suddenly had a flashback to your face, to you laughing and smiling and having fun with him, and his heart ached as he remembered how you’d always looked when he’d been with you…

“God, you used to be so damn happy,” he breathed out, and his voice was strangled. “You were so damn happy when you were with me…”

“I was,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He let out another strangled sob at your reply, because hearing that you’d been happy when you’d been with him, and hearing that you weren’t anymore…

It was so much more horrible than anything that you could’ve said to him.

“I’m such a dick…” he breathed out, and he felt fresh tears burn and fall from his eyes.

He felt like he’d been sucker-punched because he knew that it was all his fault… He was the one who’d left you and hurt you, and his leaving was the reason why you weren’t as happy as you used to be.

“God, I hurt you…” he whispered, and he pressed his hands to his face now, trying to muffle his sobs.

He felt like he was drowning now, like the weight of this guilt and depression and regret was just pulling him further and further underwater.

“I’m so sorry…” he breathed out, and his whole body shuddered again as he tried to breathe. “God, I’m so sorry…”

You curled up against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest. Matt let out a strangled sob at the sight of you like that.

Jesus, you’d always curled up like that when you’d been sad or upset and he’d always held you… And you’d always laid your head against his chest and he’d held you so tightly.

God, how he suddenly longed to hold you again…

He longed to hold you in his arms, comfort you, and tell you how sorry he was.

And he longed to tell you to leave that guy and leave that miserable life and come back to him…

He looked at you, and his whole chest ached as he saw you were almost in the same position that he’d held you in a hundred times.

Jesus… He couldn’t stand this…

“Please come here…” he whispered, and the words left his mouth before he’d even realized what he was saying.

His whole body was aching with the need to hold you, and this situation was so screwed up and his emotions were so all over the place right now that he couldn’t even think straight, and he suddenly heard himself pleading to you.

“Please… Please come here and let me hold you like I used to…”

You were shaking and you knew you shouldn’t, but… You did it anyway.

Matt felt a fresh wave of nausea as you did actually comply and started shuffling over to him. And he tried to ignore the fact that you were wearing that tight, little dress.

He couldn’t resist the urge to touch you now, and he reached out to grab you. He reached out and pulled you so that you were settled down between his legs, your back was pressed up against his chest, and your head was resting just under his chin.

And he realized that it felt so good, so right, to hold you this way again…

He reached one arm around you and pressed his whole body up against yours, and he suddenly shivered, because he forgot how good it felt to have your body against his.

“Why, Matt?” Your body was trembling from surpassed sobs. “Why did you leave?”

He closed his eyes at that and held you even tighter as he heard the pain in your voice. His heart ached again as he realized how badly he’d hurt you, and it ached to hear that pain in your voice still, even after three months…

“God, baby…” he whispered, and his voice was choked again. “I left because I’m stupid…”

He turned his face down and nuzzled his face into your hair, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“I left… Because I’m a dumb jerk… And an idiot…” he whispered, his voice breaking again. “And because I’m a coward… And a fool…”

“It’s not a reason,” you reminded him in a hushed whisper.

He breathed out a shaky sigh because you were right. Those reasons didn’t matter… They didn’t matter at all…

It had still been such a complete mistake to leave you.

He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to break down again, and he started to admit the real reason: the true reason why he’d left.

“I left you because I was scared,” he whispered, in a choked voice. “So goddamn scared…”

“Scared of what, Matt?”

His shoulders shuddered and his breath hitched in his throat as he finally admitted it: the real reason why he’d left you… The thing he’d been running from for months…

“I was scared of everything,” he whispered. “I was scared of losing you… Scared that you’d get sick of me and leave me… Scared that one day you’d wake up and decide you didn’t want me anymore or that you wanted someone else… I was scared that you’d…”

He suddenly couldn’t say the words.

Because, God, thinking them had been hard enough, but saying them was practically impossible.

Hearing them out loud would be unbearable…

He swallowed hard again, forcing himself to say the words that would just wreck him.

“I was scared you’d… You’d stop loving me…”

Your eyes squeezed shut and another wave of tears spilled down your cheeks.

He felt his throat closing up again as he heard you crying now.

God… He realized how horrible and selfish and shitty this all sounded.

He felt an urge to just keep talking and just keep pouring out all this shitty and awful and screwed up stuff because he suddenly felt like he just had to get it all off his chest.

“I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realize that I’m just a nothing,” he blurted out, and he suddenly felt like he was falling apart again. “That…”

He swallowed hard and let out another shuddering breath as he felt a fresh wave of tears start to fall from his eyes again.

Jesus… He was in so deep… He was such a mess…

“That… T-that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered, and his voice was shaking, and he was crying again…

“You… You were scared that I’d leave…” you repeated. “So you left first?”

He closed his eyes, and his shoulders trembled as he let out another strangled sob as he realized just how stupid and shitty and awful that sounded…

Because, God, that was what he’d done, wasn’t it?

He’d been scared that you’d break his heart so the idiot that he was had gone and broken yours first.

“God…” he managed, his voice was still choked. “Jesus… Yeah. I left you… B-because I was scared I’d get left first…”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” You sobbed out.

He flinched a little at your words because he knew more than anything in the world that it was bullshit and that what he’d done was horrible and completely irrational and so goddamn selfish and wrong.

“I know…” he whispered, and he started to apologize again, because even though he’d said it a hundred times already he still couldn’t stop saying it. “God, I know. I know it’s bullshit… I just—“

He breathed in and had to fight back another strangled sob as he felt like he was drowning just talking about this.

“I’m just so stupid…” he whispered, and his heart and head were such a mess, and the words just kept falling from his mouth. “I’m a dumbass, and I’m so self-centered… I should’ve known… I should’ve known that you would never leave me… I’m just…”

He let out a strangled sob again, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

God, he’d been such a dumbass: he’d really left you because he was scared…

He’d left the most perfect girl he’d ever met because he’d been a dumbass and he’d been a sucker and a coward and so goddamn scared.

“And what do you want me to do now, Matt?” you asked quietly.

He swallowed hard, his heart aching in his chest.

“What do I…?” he murmured, and his heart leaped into his throat as he realized what you were saying. “God… baby, you don’t…”

And there was a desperate hope that was building inside of him, and his mind was racing as he tried to process everything: were you really about to have this conversation… Were you really about to ask him what he wanted… Did you really want to know if he still wanted you?

He held you even tighter, and a strangled sob escaped his throat. God, he just wanted to beg you, to just blurt out what he wanted and pray that you’d say yes, and pray that you’d take him back.

“I—” he choked out, his words falling like a desperate waterfall, “I want you. I want you, and… and I want you back… God, I just want you, baby…”

His heart was racing, his body was shaking, and his mind was racing as he tried to find the words to explain how much he wanted you.

“Please,” he found himself saying, tears starting to spill again, and he was pleading now. “Please come back to me. Please. I… I just want you again so bad, and it hurts so much being without you, and… God, I need you…”

“It’s not fair,” you whispered shakily. “Not to me, not to Vinnie…”

He felt his heart clench at the mention of that name.

God, he forgot that you were seeing that guy…

He swallowed hard, and his shoulders shook again, because he did realize that it wasn’t fair of him to be begging like this and asking you to come back when you were with someone else, and that… That he was the selfish one, and he was the villain, and he suddenly just wanted to stop and shut up and not ask you for anything.

But then he realized that he couldn’t just stop. The words just kept spilling from his mouth, and he couldn’t hold them back.

“Please… I know it’s not fair, I’m…” he whispered, and another sob escaped his throat, and his mind was going a million miles a minute, and all he could do was plead, “I’m trying, and I just… I need to be with you so badly… god, I miss you…”

He felt the words falling out of his mouth and he realized that he couldn’t stop talking, because all of the things he’d been feeling for three months were just racing through his mind, and he kept just spewing things out like a goddamn dumpster fire.

“Please… Please forgive me and just… just be with me. Please… I’m begging you…” he choked out. “God, I’m begging you, baby, I will do anything…”

There was a clear conflict on your face, you felt torn between your loyalty to Vinnie and your love for Matt despite everything.

He hated himself more than ever, because it was written all over your face how badly this was hurting you: you were conflicted and you were tearing up, and it was all because of him.

And his entire body ached because he didn’t want to hurt you anymore. He didn’t want to be the selfish, awful, evil villain in this situation, and… And he wanted to just shut up and tell you to stay with your boyfriend.

“So, what do you want me to do? Break things off with Vinnie?” you croaked out.

He closed his eyes again.

His body was on fire, and he wanted so badly to just say yes, to just tell you to end things with your boyfriend and come back to him, but…

He couldn’t do that to you.

He couldn’t, because that would be so damn selfish and so wrong and so unfair, and that’s exactly what he’d done months ago, and you’d begged him to stay and he’d just… He’d left anyway.

Matt suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

Please, God, just let him do the right thing.

Let him be good and kind and fair enough to just tell you to stay with your boyfriend.

He opened his mouth, and for just a moment, all he wanted to do was to say “stay”, but then he started talking and the words just started falling from his mouth, and he couldn’t stop them, because his heart and mind were racing, and he was so, so scared you’d say no…

“No,” he whispered, and the word just slipped out before he could think clearly, and he realized it was the absolutely worst thing to say.

He felt bile rising in his throat, and he started pleading all over again, his voice so desperate he could feel how pathetic it sounded.

“Don’t. Don’t… I didn’t mean that. I’m… I’m an idiot. Ignore me, just… Just forget I said anything, don’t… Please… God, please don’t…”

“Because I will,” you told him, your voice shaking. “If you just tell me to.”

He felt like his chest was collapsing now.

You were actually going to do it… You were going to break things off with your boyfriend and come back to him if he just told you to.

And part of him wanted to say it. God, how he wanted to say it…

But he knew he couldn’t… He just… He couldn’t… He couldn’t, because that would be so selfish…

But despite how wrong it was, he felt like he was going to die without you. He already almost spiraled into a depression in the span of those three months since the breakup, he already couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't live.

He suddenly felt a choked, strangled sob rising in his throat, because he felt like he was going to die: he felt like if he didn’t have you, he wouldn’t be able to live, and his whole body ached and stung because he loved you, he loved you so damn much and he needed you…

God… He felt so desperate that he couldn’t stay quiet. He felt like he was begging for air at this point, and he just… He just had to blurt out what his body was screaming.

“Please… Just… Oh, god, please come back,” he sobbed out, his voice choked and full of pleading and tears again now. “God, I’m begging you, please just… I’m begging you to give me a chance. I’m so… so sorry, and I just… I need you. I need you. I can’t live without you, baby, I… Please…”

You gently took his hand in yours, feeling just how much he was trembling, and you pressed a soft kiss on the back of it. “I will.”

A strangled, gasped sob escaped his throat, and everything went white.

He didn’t believe it… He was hallucinating…

No… No goddamn way… He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming, because there was no way that you just said the one thing that he wanted more than anything else in life.

But then you kissed his hand, and the feeling of your lips was so real and so familiar that he realized it wasn’t a dream.

[twstedstoryshop]

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him. 

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

[madamechrissy]

Meeting Mr. Nanami -

A Silent Serenades oneshot

Preview/taglist for the new LONG oneshot set in the regency era, the love story of Nanami Kento in Silent Serenades and a new reader. Recommended to read after part Twelve, but if you're going to read it as a standalone, here's a:

Summary- Mr. Nanami had been cautious and careful all his life, until a certain Duchess came into it. He'd fallen, and given his everything, but her heart lied with Duke Gojo, Nanami hated him for a time, but now he's just trying to exist. Work, home, work, home, repeat. But then, something shakes him out of his depression when he's at a boxing match- you. You've snuck out to place your bets, rebellious and very clumsy, which lands you right in his strong arms. Just who is this handsome man, and what lies behind his sad hazel eyes?

CW- will be a LONG oneshot- over 10k, EMOTIONAL, not rly angsty, cute and sweet, and ofc it's gonna be SMUTTY at the end so MDNI! If you wanna get tagged when it drops lmk!

preview :

Two months, it’s been two months since Mr. Nanami Kento had said goodbye to the woman he fell for, the Duchess, Duke Gojo’s wife. Though Nanami should have thought better than to entangle himself in such an affair, he couldn’t get her beautiful broken face out of his damn mind. He knows she is with him now, that she is happy, but it didn’t make it any easier for him.

He wishes she was there, baking with him in the afternoon, wishes he could brighten his home with her fragile little smile. Wishes he could kiss her lips once more, to show her she deserved everything when she did not know she did, but when she broke his heart in that alleyway for good? He knew she was never his at all.

An illusion, he does not think he even understood her, now he’s hiding his pain by fighting in the ring again, he must get this frustration out, he must focus on anything that’s distracting him from the pain of losing her. Right when he thought he could have her, she slipped through his fingers, back to Gojo.

Nanami thinks it’s best that way, but it didn’t lessen his sorrow for her, though now he really wonders, were his feelings love? Or were they affection, lust, trying to save her? When she said he didn’t truly know her, when she gave him her sad smile with tears when she said farewell, perhaps she was correct. Perhaps he loved the illusion of her, of her perfection.

Nanami his entire life has been cautious, he’d been precise, when it came to business, when it came to fighting even, every aspect of his day was down to the moment scheduled. He’d wake up, he’d get ready for his day with his coffee, he’d work hard, to the point of exhaustion, he’d come home and clean up, then he’d do it all over again.

Wake up, work, go home.

The Duchess flipped it upside down, but now he wonders, just what has he been missing? He’s preparing himself for the ring now, raising his arms, his muscles flexing, bare chested in his boxing shorts. His opponent was this Irish fellow, but Nanami Kento was quite bigger than him, he worked hard on his body, and it reflected surely, as the women around in the crowd point to him, waving their fans.

He doesn’t see women anymore though, how could he?

Until you.

You run smack dab into him, arms flailing as you lose your balance, Nanami stops you by your shoulders, you’re gasping as you look up at him, and something happens to Nanami Kento that day. Something about how you look at him, at your beautiful eyes, and your lips parting just so. Something about his hands on your delicate shoulders.

His heart beats again.

And something happens to you that day, you’re a proper lady who has snuck out of the house, deciding to place bets on boxing, and here you are now, being held by the most handsome man, shirtless and glistening. Your eyes dart to his, they’re lazy and lidded, soft warm honey with flecks of green, something so inviting to them, offsetting the harsh planes of his chiseled features.

Kind eyes, sad eyes.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the contact, his big rough hands gripping your upper arms, bare where your puffed sleeves cut off, and you’re suddenly vividly aware of it, aware of everything. He stays there a moment too long, before he lets you go, clearing his throat, as do you, brushing a couple stray hairs behind your ear.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr…”

“Mr. Nanami.” His husky voice does something to you, along with his chiseled body, strong pecs and abdomen, you’ve never seen a man like this, not up close. “Are you all right, darling?”

Darling?

You gasp, backing away now. “I am so clumsy, I am so sorry, just… standing here like… I…”

“It’s alright, you seemed to have lost your footing.” His lips turn up just a bit at the corner, breaking his serious look now, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I did indeed, thank you for catching me. A gentleman.” He laughs without humor then.

A gentleman?

Mr. Nanami did not feel like a gentleman, was he still one?

He eyes you now, struck momentarily when you actually come into focus, like clearing of a foggy morning, your beautiful eyes, your flushed cheeks, your mouth so tantalizing. You’re wearing a gorgeous little green gown that makes your smooth skin just that much prettier, your body showcased where it cinches in.

You’re beautiful.

Nanami didn’t even know he could find another woman beautiful anymore, but here you are, something so shy and awkward about you, endearing him without having said a handful of words. You’re nervously fidgeting with your hands, averting your eyes just so, but he catches them on his body, he feels them like a physical touch.

Who are you?

Tagging ppl I know wanted to see a Nanami spin off so far! @lemonsupernova @makingtimemine @jjknanamin @aldebrana @plimplimmeiododoi @nanasukii28 @baizhoobies

Coming Soon! Taglist open. You could read it w/o Silent serenades- just know Nanami is a stock trader/boxer who bakes cookies and was down bad for Duke Gojo's wifey lol

[autumnywinter]

Yandere Elliott Headcanons (Stardew Valley)

TW: Yandere behavior, suggestive content, insinuated threatened suicide

Yandere!Elliott is the pinnacle of an obsessive yandere. Of course he has some possessiveness and protectiveness too, but above all he is obsessed with you.

He's a tad bit delusional, but does occasionally have some self-awareness. He's fully aware what he's doing isn't normal, but he truly believes everything he does is for you, and his intentions are all that matters. Love is a complex thing, right?

Though he isn't the type to murder unless completely necessary in his eyes, he will do many other things "in the name of love".

Will send glares at anyone who he thinks is taking up too much of your time (when you could be spending it with him) or gets too touchy with you.

If he thinks someone is a little too interested in you, he'll gently plead as your beloved friend that they're bad news. If that doesn't work, he'll personally confront the person in question, claiming that he has blackmail, whether he's bluffing or not.

Of course, he does send love letters from a "secret admirer". Sings you constant praises and confesses all the horrible, shameful thoughts he has. But while writing in his exquisite cursive, you'll notice when it becomes more sloppy, a telltale sign he got a little too excited confessing his infatuation with you.

Stalks you very often. Whenever you're sick, there's a basket with medicine, snacks, and flowers at your doorstep, all gifted to you by your devoted secret admirer ♡

He isn't very good at hiding his obsessive tendencies. After all, who else in town writes with such delicately scripted words?

When you're deep in your friendship with Elliott, it becomes even more obvious. His face is bright red, and he has an almost drunken smile whenever you're near him. Buries his nose in your hair and inhales, always commenting how heavenly you smell, how right you feel in his arms.

Sneaks into your house while you're gone or asleep. Won't do anything but watch you, even if he's tempted to do more. Just viewing your such peaceful, serene state is enough for him. Sometimes.

Other times, he takes your belongings. He returns them--most of the time--but of course he keeps a few keepsakes, too. Underwear, lipstick/lip gloss, toothbrushes even. Despite being vanilla, this man is a freak.

Will take his time building up your affection. As much as he'd love nothing more than to sweep you off your feet immediately, he can be patient. As long as you keep being your incredible, sweet self to him.

He'd much rather not have to resort to kidnapping. He wants you to adore him as much as he adores you, and he has some self-awareness that if he kidnaps you, there's a good chance you'll hate him forever. The mere thought makes him feel terrified.

If you confess your love to him first, he won't cry, but he will be on the verge of it. This is all he could've ever wanted! He can now be as flirtatious and romantic as he'd like with you now and not be seen as creepy!

Him confessing his love first would be planned out very carefully. He'd try to seem like his usual charming and smooth self, but you'd notice how he'd occasionally stammer a little, and how his entire face is tomato-red.

Only when you're married will he seem to tone it down. He's even more obsessive than ever, but he doesn't follow your every movement as much. Not unless he grows suspicious of you. He'll be more heartbroken than genuinely angry if he finds out you've been cheating or have fallen out of love with him.

Before he met you, he was depressed and believed everyone had a soulmate but him. You are his reason for living, without you he is nothing. And he likes to think you think the same way vice versa, deep down.

Never would hurt you, but can be a little scary. He switches between loving, to hysterical, to eerily cold. Will insinuate and say terrible things when you've been distant to the point he thinks you might leave him.

"...Dearest? You know I love you, right? If you were to leave me, I really don't think I could live with myself."

"If I had it my way, you wouldn't need to ever leave the house. In fact, you don't need to. I can provide for us both. Is there any reason you insist on leaving me all day?"

"Sometimes I'm tempted to tie you up and keep you all to myself. Not that I'd actually do that, haha... maybe one day."

Just make him believe you adore him as much as he adores you, and everything will be fine! :)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.  

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part four

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru has an announcement to make to the royal court. you don't think you could've ever prepare yourself for what it could be. the two of you see each other after months of no contact and the result is bitter sweet. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive flirting, heated make out, cussing, depression symptoms, misguided anger, jealousy.

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 4,323

𝜗𝜚 an: there is a surprise guest from the jjk cast being introduced.. heh. dw he is just for the story and holds no interest in reader.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

“How do you like kitchen duty, my dear?” the Queen asks, the royal blue wallpaper of her study behind her head seems to shift like the ocean waves; rising and falling - dancing in the reflection of your pupils as your tea is poured for you. With a wave of her hand the Queen’s servant is dismissed and it’s just the two of you alone. The silence is unsettling as much as it is intoxicating. The kitchen is noisy - pots and pans clanging together, the repeated motion of knife hitting cutting board, and the bubbling sounds of a roiling boil. But then there is your room at night; the bed you climb into is decently soft and the covers keep you warm enough but you’re missing the noise of Satoru’s words. Before everything changed you would lay awake and replay every conversation with the Prince; your heart would pound remembering every brush of his hand or intense gaze he didn’t bother to hide. Instead now even your own thoughts have quieted, leaving your night void of any stimulation. 

“It’s been pleasant,” you respond, blowing on the hot tea you’ve brought to your lips. You don’t try very hard to sound convincing but if the Queen notices she doesn’t comment on it. 

“I’ve heard you have been getting pretty close to one of the men in the kitchen,” she wiggles her eyebrows, like you’re her girl friend and she’s genuinely interested in your potential love life. You’re not entirely sure where she got such information from; but it’s been clear to you for a while now. She has eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Forgive me, I’m not quite sure who you are referring to,” the tea is hot as you sip it, burning the taste buds you’ve barely been using these days. 

“Well, Nanami, of course,” she takes a moment to sip her own tea. “He’s handsome… quite burly too for working in a kitchen,” she’s smirking describing the man like it's the most entertaining gossip in the whole world. You guess it's not the worst thing she could potentially hear about you. All though, the worst had already been said. 

“He’s knowledgeable,” you tell her, stoic and devoid of any real emotion, “I enjoy learning what I can from him,” it’s a boring answer but your life is boring now. She frowns, almost a little disappointed that you won’t bite and indulge in ‘boy talk’ with her, but she continues on anyway. 

“That’s how your parents met, you know,” another long sip of her tea, “your father used to volunteer in the kitchens just to see your mother,” she’s obnoxiously giddy again and you can’t fight the sour taste of disgust. It feels more like she’s describing a silly little romance novel and not real people’s lives. It’s almost amusing knowing that as soon as your ‘silly little romance’ got too close to her son it was no longer exciting to her. You kept silent - having nothing worth commenting aloud as you waited for her to get to her point. She didn’t invite you here to gossip, your life had hardly been entertaining since 3 months ago when you were banished from Satoru’s presence. Her lips purse for a moment before she talks, “Well that’s not why I invited you here anyways,”

No shit. 

“I wanted to say thank you. I’m sure you’ve heard of our upcoming event in which Satoru will announce who he is courting,” you could have choked on air if you were not incredibly aware of yourself around the Queen. Instead you sucked in a quick breath. You had obviously been preparing for the event seeing as it was tomorrow and everyone in the kitchens scrambled around to get everything set for it - but you missed the part where it involved Satoru and his new potential partner. “I was incredibly worried for the future of our kingdom, and I appreciate your diligent work in securing that,” her words danced around the true meaning - but you weren’t a dunce. She was thanking you for hurting Satoru - and yourself in the process. A truly noble sacrifice indeed. You had to fight the desire to strangle yourself in front of her.  

“Of course,” is all you muster, not bothering to put on a brave face. 

“Remember the blonde Princess I talked about all those years ago?” she says, observing her pristine nails, “I knew Satoru would warm up to her if he tried,” your tea was gone by the end of her sentence and you lacked the stimulation now required for this conversation; your uneasiness eating away at your insides. 

“I’ve heard she’s lovely,” your throat is dry despite downing an entire cup of tea. 

“Oh more than lovely, if you could even imagine. I’ve never seen Satoru more at peace than when he’s listening to her playing piano. She’s quite the pianist!” 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru did indeed enjoy the times she played for him. The melody left no room for chatter. It was the only moment the two of them were together that he could close his eyes and rest; shutting down after hours of struggling to be present. He didn’t need to pretend to listen to how her day went or care about her childhood. He didn’t need to make up details about his day or share stories of his own youth that he struggled to edit you out of. He could just be. And that’s how Satoru preferred it. 

You would never know about it because ‘how could you?’ - but Satoru was a new man. Gone were the days of acting out or scoffing at his lessons. Gone were the days he preferred fencing to etiquette lessons. He now spent his time indoors because that’s where his bed was closest. His new favorite activity was painting. It was quiet and kept his mind occupied. He enjoyed painting with the new Princess the most - she would play while he would paint and as her hands created beautiful melodies Satoru’s created melancholy works of art

She peers a glance at his canvas over the piano, eyebrows furrowing as she notices the brooding blues, “You do realize this song is meant to elicit joy?” she inquires playfully, and Satoru apologizes. 

“Forgive me, I don’t have much experience with music theory,” his brush dips into the blue oil paint before dabbing it onto the course fabric. 

“Blue seems to be your favorite color,” she comments, her hands walking over each other as the keys come alive from her touch. 

Satoru nods, “I do enjoy reds too. Deep reds,” he murmurs. 

The color of his bleeding heart. 

𝜗𝜚

When the King and Queen announce a new ball, Satoru already understands the reason without being told. He had to fix his blunder - the one where he abandoned his duties and prioritized the pleasure your presence gave him. He hadn’t seen you since that day - but he was sure your face would bring him anything but pleasure nowadays. He was agreeing to the expectations of this new event without listening. It didn’t matter to him anyways. His life wasn’t his - this was a fact he could no longer be gullible about. 

That’s why he stood there in the center of the ballroom, fingers interlaced with the Princess as he smiled down at her like she meant something to him. Because his life wasn’t his and there were worse women in the world to be arranged to. The Princess really wasn’t all that bad. She was intelligent, respectful, charitable and incredibly humble. She knew there was more to life than her appearance all while being a sight for sore eyes. Satoru couldn’t have expected anyone more perfect for the role of his wife. With his heart now out of the picture - there was no better option than her. He could see that clearly now.

She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, hiding her blush as Satoru talked about the first day they met to an inquiring older man and that is when you finally see the two of them together. Surprisingly, you’re allowed out of your metaphorical cage - the King and Queen now fully entrusting you in the same room as Satoru after you successfully stomped out his light. You’re with the kitchen boy, Nanami, who was the Queen’s new show pony she liked to trot around; insisting he was there to describe the new hors d'oeuvre he created himself. Neither of you were entirely convinced the Queen thought that highly of the dish - rather than the idea of having such an esteemed cook now residing in her royal kitchen. Your jaw drops seeing the two of them next to each other. You had only seen paintings of the Princess, and even those did not prepare you for the intensity of her eyes and the silkiness of her hair. You were right all those years ago; next to Satoru wearing his family’s signature blue - she fit perfectly. 

And Satoru. Your Satoru. He looked so sorrowfully beautiful. His jaw was sharper and his eyes were darker but he was still Satoru and that fact alone made it impossible to look away. You had no right - but your watery eyes threatened to spill over watching the Prince hold hands with the Princess. A pitiful feeling fell over you once you realized you couldn’t read his expression. There had never been a day that you couldn’t skim his face like the pages of a book and pinpoint exactly what he was thinking - but now being in the same room with him after so long - you realized you were no longer privy to his thoughts like you used to be. Perhaps that ability was now reserved for the woman who held his hand. If it wasn’t so devastating you might have considered thanking the Queen for what she made you do. You had to have looked so silly beside him seeing the Princess in front of you now - appearing to be a piece of the same puzzle by his side. 

“Are you doing okay?” a deep voice prods your ear and you turn to see Nanami, standing by your side with a look of worry. The Queen wasn’t entirely wrong when she spoke of rumors that the two of you were close - you were in a lot of ways. Just not in the way she found most interesting. Nanami taught you a lot of skills in the kitchen. He showed you the best ways to cut vegetables and the importance of never looking away from milk boiling on a stove top. He told you stories of his travels in search of the best ingredients and his experience being raised on the country-side of a faraway nation whose people were dying of hunger. How his life as a child shaped him into who he was to this day: a seasoned cook who the highest of society paid a pretty penny to grace their kitchens. For some time you spared him the details of your life and he took it well - waiting for the moment you decided he was someone you could trust - and once you did it seemed to flow out of you and never stop. He knew all about your childhood with Satoru and how things became the way they are now. He didn’t scoff at you for daring to imagine yourself next to a Prince or gawk at the audacity it must take to delude yourself into believing your life could possibly be different than those before you. He just listened while he prepared a snack for the two of you. It was cathartic being around someone who carried as much baggage as you. The two of you were stronger than ever by each other’s side, and that is why you stood with him while he talked to the snobs he couldn’t stand and he stood with you while you watched the Prince make his love interest known to everyone. “Go take a moment for yourself, I’ll cover for you,” he offered and you shook your head.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone with these assholes,” you say, earning a chuckle from the blond man next to you. You look up at him and all though he’s laughing his eyes don’t contain humor - more concerned for you while witnessing the same display you had to. He knew it couldn’t be easy.

He leaned in once more, “Well if you change your mind, I won’t be mad,” you smile at him, grateful that you weren’t entirely alone in your new reality. 

𝜗𝜚

Just like the two of you could see the royal couple they could see you too - if they knew what to look for. You caught the Prince’s eye while he took a sip of his champagne, using it as a moment to take in the scene around him until he spotted you. He didn’t know what to expect when he first considered the possibility of running into you again; you two inhabited the same estate and though it was big you had your whole lives to bump into each other. Originally he thought his anger would get the better of him once he finally laid eyes on you. Or he considered that given enough time had passed, looking into your eyes wouldn’t elicit any kind of emotion in him - completely indifferent to your role in his life, like all other servants. What he didn’t expect was for his heart to fail him, the once slow pace now jump started with adrenaline. His heart rate was wild and his pupils dilated. The bubbly drink that usually burned on the way down had effortlessly passed his throat and entered his stomach that grew weak with just one look at you. If he wasn’t careful the Princess beside him would take note of how he completely removed himself from their conversation - but careful he could not be. He wanted to curse his cheeks for warming up at the mere thought of breathing the same air as you… how could he be present? Satoru wouldn’t have even noticed the man standing next to you if not for the way his tall form towered over you, blocking you from the Prince’s view. That’s when Satoru began to grow just a little more aware of his surroundings - or more so your surroundings. While he repeated the words you said to him that day like it was a prayer he couldn’t help but retell before bed - lest he forget - he still fought the logical side of him begging him to accept your words as fact. But he couldn’t because he couldn’t accept your own interpretation of your feelings while you shook and sniffled in the stables. He believed you wanted nothing more to do with him - but he thought the pressure of fighting for your rightful place in his life was one you could no longer stomach. That was what caused him the pain he felt each passing moment. That you lost your fight because Satoru wasn’t worth it. But how could he believe you lost your fight when you had no one in your life pressuring you to move on like he did - yet there you stood seemingly cozy next to the tall man beside you. Perhaps the thought of you giving up on Satoru hurt his heart less and that was why he settled on that thought, instead of the earth-shattering possibility that you could have actually wanted nothing to do with him.

So why would you have kissed him?

𝜗𝜚

It was a quiet afternoon when the two of you decided to stroll through the garden’s after Satoru’s tea break. You often found it beneficial to have Satoru spend time outside inbetween his lessons - he would have a new found focus when given the chance to allow his mind to wander in the cool air that the spring time offered. His fingers would busy themselves with the petals of a flower and you would walk in silence beside him, listening to him ramble or letting him bask in the tranquility nature offered. 

That day was one of those times Satoru pondered silently and you let him, enjoying the unique flowers the Gojo’s had planted from all across the globe while you walked by his side. His face was scrunched in thought and his hands were busy with the stem of a lily, using his thumbs to pry the plant open to feel around its sticky insides. You two were deep in your walk, the garden trail extending surprisingly far on the Gojo’s lawn. The estate was now hidden by the yards of thick bushes that separated the trail from other parts of their extensive property. Satoru let out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and you turned to look at him. 

He seemed anxious, the tips of his ears were deep red and his face was scrunched with worry. “Did you get a sunburn, Satoru?” you ask him, stopping him in his tracks to get a better look at his ears. They were hot to the touch as you inspected them but he was antsy rather than in pain from the grip you had on his cartilage.

“What do you think about kissing?” he asked, his cheeks turning as red as his ears. You giggle at him, not because it was random - no that was normal for Satoru - but the topic was a bit suspicious.

“Why do you ask?” you all but flirt - finding the confidence to since you had the upper hand.

“I don’t know… it just kept coming up in the book I’ve been reading,” he puts simply, trying to end the conversation he brought up. It was rare for Satoru to embarrass himself like such, and it was going to be hard for him to get you to ignore it. 

“You've been thinking a lot about kissing, haven't you?” you continue to tease, and he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No!” he scoffs, “Just.. nevermind,” the flower he was dissecting was discarded for a new one - his fingers plucking the petals before tearing into the ovule roughly. 

“I don’t know what I think about kissing, I’ve never kissed,” you answer his original question, engaging him back into the conversation. 

“Me neither,” he responded, defiling the poor flower a little less since you had his attention. ‘What do you think it’s like?” It’s your turn to blush and he definitely realizes his newfound control over the conversation - turning the tables on you as he begins to poke you about it. “It’s probably wet, right? Well if you used tongue,” you’re a blushing mess listening to your best friend describe something such as tongue-kissing and he’s smiling at you. His pearly white teeth sparkle under the sun while he continues his torture, “I’d imagine it’s warm too - and soft. Your lips look soft,” he comments and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back your bashful reaction. He knew how to work you up just like you knew how to work him up. Unfortunately he was a little bit better at it than you - or you were just more susceptible under his gaze. He comes in closer to you - you think just to tease you further and get your heart to racket against your chest and you’re not entirely wrong. It’s hard to focus when his broad shoulders contrast yours and when you feel the palm of his hand touch your sternum to feel the pounding of your heart - you can’t fathom how you’re still standing on your own. “Your heart rate is fast,” he comments, pretending he has no concept as to why that could be. 

“You flirt too much, Satoru,” you grumble at him, trying and failing to steady your heart beats with him so close. His breath smells sweet like the candies he eats and you can’t protect your nose from the pleasant musk that clings to his skin. 

“I’m not flirting. I’m just asking you a question,” he’s somehow closer and his hand won’t leave the spot between your breasts. 

“Yeah. Kissing is probably warm and wet and whatever else you said,” you mumble, desperate to crawl away from him while simultaneously scared of losing physical contact with him. 

“Maybe we should test our hypothesis,” he’s still smiling but his eyes don’t match; half lidded while he observes the twitch of your lips at his words. You gulp, unable to keep yourself from looking at his own pair of lips. You note that they look soft too, even when he bites at them upon noticing you’re doing the same as him. “It can just be a quick one,” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince you now like he’s already convinced himself years ago. Unbeknownst to him you needed very little convincing. 

“Just a quick one,” you all but breathe out, and the two of you are leaning in without realizing it until your lips meet. Your lips feel plump against his, soft like the pillow he lays his head on at night and he doesn’t want it to end. His hand meets your jaw, holding you still while his lips get used to the feeling of yours against them. Your hands come up to grip his shirt, bracing yourself while he slowly deepens it, testing the waters by slowly poking his tongue inside your mouth. You pull back, yelping at the unexpected intrusion. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, voice sultry and deep and you nod at him, going back in for more. He starts slowly again, pecking your lips softly before working his way up to prodding his tongue cautiously against your sweet lips. You let him in and he all but groans, gripping your waist with his other hands so he can feel you pressed up against him. You both have no idea what you’re doing, teeth and tongues hesitantly clashing as you explore each other’s mouths. His pulse quickens when you let out a weak moan muffled by his mouth hot against yours. His hand on your jaw slowly works its way down your neck, across your collarbone, before hesitantly stopping at the start of your breast. You’re both clouded by the haze created between the two of you, unaware of your surroundings until you hear the scurry of an animal. You both pull away - scanning the area with no luck of finding the creature that caused it. You clear your throat and try your best to pull yourself together - but it’s hard when his eyes are so dark and his lips are so red and glossy from your spit.

“Let’s get back, Satoru. Your teacher will be expecting you soon,” and off you go, with Satoru trailing behind you.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru had never felt the foreign concept of competition in regards to you. It must be the reason he felt such vitriolic jealousy seeing you next to another man. He had no time to consider himself a fool. He wanted nothing more than to see his nose smashed in and your eyes on him again. 

But Satoru had to remind himself he was different. He was no longer the old Satoru whose emotions reigned over his logic. While the new Satoru was born through pain, it would do him good to act on the new things he learned; like patience. 

And patience he needed when later that night he found himself wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water - expecting the room to be empty and overcome with shock when he saw you there. You’re not alone either. The man from earlier guided your hand as you two fileted a fish. And what an odd sight it was - seeing your back pressed up another man’s chest as he carefully guided your knife against the belly of a salmon. Nanami notices the Prince first, respectfully removing his guiding hands and you look up, mouth agape at the sight of the unimpressed Prince in front of you. “Prince Gojo,” you both say, bowing respectfully at him. “How can we be of service?” Nanami asks, still stuck in his bow to Satoru. For the first time in your life you see Satoru ponder his next words and it is almost as shocking as being in the same room as him for the second time after going no-contact all those months ago. You aren’t used to him thinking so long about what to say; you’d always known him to speak his mind unfiltered. It made you incredibly uneasy.

“Are they aware you two occupy the kitchens after they’re meant to be closed,” he asks and you’re even more confused. Satoru? Becoming a stickler for rules? Your jaw hung open just for a moment when you remembered to pick it back up. 

“We’re very sorry, your royal highness. We will be sure to clean up and head off to bed,” Nanami is nothing short of respectful but Satoru still can’t hold back a scoff, turning his head to glance your way. His eyes miss their softness you’ve always been used to and you cower under his eyes, keeping your gaze on the ground until he finally turns around and leaves. 

𝜗𝜚

That night is the first night you let yourself think about Satoru again, now having many things to think about as you lay awake in your bed. 

He looked… almost disappointed in you? You try to fight the idea of him caring what you chose to do, chalking it up to your hopeless wanting that he was as stuck on you as you were stuck on him. But you saw him tonight with the Princess; getting close to her like he only ever did with you and you know you can’t let yourself get caught up in misguided optimism - Satoru had moved on and did exactly what you needed him to do… So why did that realization have to be so unbelievable to you?

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┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful. 

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger. 

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected. 

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples. 

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him. 

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub. 

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more. 

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'. 

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked? 

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in. 

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands. 

Another blonde, huh? 

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)" 

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla. 

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber. 

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing? 

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll." 

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?" 

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[anitalenia]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 ₊˚⊹♡

⋆˙⟡♡ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦. ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡. 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹ the beginning of how it started. a part detailing how Batman initially treated you and handled the relationship.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹ how Batman fell in love with you and all the things that happened leading up to it. all the signs and actions that made him love you.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹ how Batman handled the reality of being in love with you and all the things he did to try and hide from it. better yet, his confession.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹ yours and Bruce’s relationship and how he was with you. some relationship headcanons for fun.

⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ battinson x fem!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ CONTENT INCLUDES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mentions of sex, mentions of fighting and threatening, rough kissing, mentions of sad!Bruce / undertones of depression, mentions of alcohol & insomnia, bad words, sweet kisses, tears, hair pulling, love confessions, not really a whole lot of sexiness just headcanons mostly

⋆˙⟡♡ WARNINGS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mature content, emotionally tortured Bruce Wayne, maybe not my best story telling :(, mentions of blood and fighting cuz this is Batman, alcoholism

⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ thanks to @diavolosbaby for requesting this!! Hope you enjoy and it lives up to your standards 🩷

OTHER LINKS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ He told you what this was before he even started it. Told you this was strictly business, no feelings involved; you knew who he was during a chance encounter and you were the only one he could really come to after that. It was simple, straight forward; you needed his dick and he needed your pussy.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce came to you a lot, which was a little odd compared to how you perceived him to be. You thought he was a very busy man, always fighting crime or hiding away in his mansion, always too busy to bother with someone as unimportant as you. But no, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was there at least three times a week, standing by your window in that black suit of his with his cape blowing with the wind, waiting for you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always quiet, head filled with whatever torturous pain lingered in the shadows of his mind, brimming with the secrets he never told you and you never asked for. He never spoke, unless it was a command spoken in a gentle gruffness. He never smiled, tried not to grunt or make too much noise, but some nights he couldn’t contain himself and the sounds just escaped him. Those were the nights he was particularly frustrated.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never let you take off his mask at first, he’d leave it on and you were left grasping at leather and air. He didn’t like affection, having you touch his scars and his body, it was too vulnerable, too intimate, for his liking. So, naturally, he didn’t stay to cuddle afterwards. The business was over, your job was done, he’d slip out the window as you’d bask in the aftershocks.

⋆˙⟡♡ His heart was cold but his body was warm, always warm. He was like a furnace when he’d be flat against you, fucking into you with his head in your neck and his hands gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs. You’d always get so hot, craving his warmth like a bug to a bonfire.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never bothered to ask you anything about yourself, but you had a suspicion he had to have done some research on you during those long lonely days in the darkness of his home. He was too cautious not to, too curious. And he did. He found out everything about you but didn’t share a single detail about himself. He was Bruce Wayne, rich son whose parents died by day, and then Batman, vengeance personified by night. That’s all you needed to know.

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman only came to you in the middle of the night, sometimes bloody and beaten, your fingers running over tender bruises that would make him grimace. A part of him liked the pain, figured he deserved it. Sometimes you worried for him on the nights he was particularly beaten up, but he didn’t give you time to ask questions before he was shoving you against your dresser and pressing himself against you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t like being in the light, being too seen. He liked it with all the lights off, your room glowing with the dim light of the moon and the streetlights, your face pressed into his neck or shoved into a pillow so you couldn’t look at him.

⋆˙⟡♡ In the beginning, he liked it when you just submitted to him; he mostly cared about his own pleasure at first as he told you what this was, why he was doing this. That didn’t stop him from making sure you came at least once though. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want you to feel completely used.

⋆˙⟡♡ You noticed he always had this way about him when he touched you, almost like he yearned to hold you closer but knew he shouldn’t. His hands were rough, long fingers and hot palms, lingering on your skin before he’d move them away, never touching one place too long before he’d move on. It was almost a tease.

⋆˙⟡♡ He spied on you, a lot actually, would watch you from his spot on a roof top, stare at you through your big office window. He didn’t know why, just bored and curious, he always told himself. He’d see you stress yourself out, fill out paper after paper while your boss did nothing but throw more at you. You took it anyway and Bruce was confused by why. But he never asked, didn’t want to make a connection with you and risk losing you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He remembered sneaking into your house, waiting for you, but you were late coming home from work and he wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He felt wrong about it, but he looked through your photos and your notebooks, saw a glimpse into your real life outside of him and work and he quickly put everything back the way it was and left. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see you as anything different than what he already did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would lie to Alfred about where he was going at night, why he would be so late coming home. But Alfred knew he was lying, he wasn’t sure about what exactly, but Alfred knew Bruce would come to him in time.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce tried hard to keep his and yours personal lives outside of your mutual situation, he really did. He didn’t want to know you, hear you talk about your problems and your dreams and fears and learn what made you you, from your own words. He was alone and knew he was meant to be alone, planned on being alone forever. Being with him would only put you in danger, a bigger target on his back he didn’t need. It was for your own protection, for the sake of both your lives and both your hearts.

⋆˙⟡♡ He vowed to himself to keep it that way, strictly professional, a hobby almost. He really didn’t plan to fall in love, he really really didn’t…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Your living room was dark when you came home from work, later than usual because of your infuriating boss; he was lazy, relied on his employees to do his work while he sat in his office and ate his donuts. You hated him, loathed him, absolutely couldn’t stand him, but you understood he was just another obstacle, a milestone you needed to get through before you reached where you needed to be. So, you didn’t make a fuss, you didn’t complain, didn’t speak up. You did what you were supposed to as you were supposed to do it, just another hamster circling the wheel of business over and over until you finally got the balls to break the cycle.

Unfortunately, your ambition was almost too much for you sometimes, tonight was evidence enough.

You set your keys in the ceramic bowl by the door with a tired sigh, soft rain pattering on your windows, furniture lit up with a dim orange glow from the street lamps outside. All twisting shadows and rain drops. Your nose tickled with the scent of vanilla bean and raspberry, remembering the candle you had forgotten to blow out before you left. Oops.

Your hair was damp, gray suit littered in dark spots from the rain outside. Your limbs were sore and heavy, eyes burning and fluttering for a semblance of rest. Your heels were sore from the heels you’ve been prancing around in all day, your whole body exhausted in general. This was normal for you though, you always came home lagged and tired. You regretted being such a hard worker, but knew it would ultimately pay off in the future.

You walked to your bedroom, your heels clacking on the floor unevenly, dragging on the wooden boards as you navigated your way through the darkness. You held your purse loosely in your left hand, a shiver crawling up your spine as an unexpected gust of coolness swept up your legs and down your neck.

Your foot stuttered, lingering by the doorway in your bedroom as the rain seemed louder, less dull, wind whistling your black bed sheets. You furrowed your eyebrows at that, knowing you left your window closed before you left. Your eyes strained to see anything in the darkness as panic blared in your chest like a fire alarm, trying to make out any figure in the shadows of your room. You slowly crept forward, preparing for the worst, your exhaustion melting into hot fear that made your bones go stiff.

You swallowed, eyes immediately going to the open window to see the empty street below, the sound of a car alarm in the distance overpowering the rain that seemed to just pound harder. Your window was wide open, sheer purple curtains flapping from the breeze like a set of violet wings. Your eyes narrowed at that, hearing nothing but buzzing silence ringing in your ears. Then, it just hit you.

You couldn’t describe it exactly, but you felt a sensation of calmness wash over you as you let out a hefty breath, fear gradually melting away as your body relaxed and hands unclenched. It was like your body knew it wasn’t in any real danger, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows besides what was supposed to be. This was all too familiar to you; a setting you’ve come home to many times before. The open window, the darkness, the buzzing calm.

You felt excitement spark through you in recognition as you felt your neck tingle, a barely there whisper of a breath wash over your neck and tickle your hair.

You felt a smile quirk on your lips, turning around slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when you were met with the large bulking figure of the man in black standing just an inch away from you, a shadow hiding in shadow as he stared down at you with those black soulless eyes. He was big, a thing you liked about him, dirt encrusted on his suit and so out of place in the cozy warmth of your home. He was big and bulky, comically large for your small bedroom.

You looked back up at him, your purse dropping to the floor as instinctual arousal flooded your belly at just the mere sight of him. You couldn’t help it, your body knew what he was capable of and yearned for it. Your throat became dry, you swallowed once more as his eyes, those dark blue gems of his, looked over your face with a certain pained look in them, calculating and tortured, covered in black face paint that hid the beauty of his raw skin.

His pink lips were set in a firm frown, a faint scratch on his chin, breaths slow and even, calm. That damned mask of his covered his face, the fluffiness of his brown hair you seldom ever felt run through your finger tips. He always wore this expression, always so serious and somber like he was going through a dreadful ordeal every second he continued to live. You were always curious as to why, but knew he’d never answer, nor appreciate your nosiness.

You let your thoughts drift off, looking back up at him with a false confidence.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight…” You mumbled quietly, losing any conviction in your voice as he took a small step forward, closer to you, his heavy boot thudding on your floor. You took a small step back, crumbling under him way too easily, as always. He always loved to completely invade your space, but never let you do the same to him.

You looked up at him, he looked down at you, breaths mingling together as a dark look washed over his oceanic eyes, his strong jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over your face like this was the first time he’d ever seen you. You felt your thighs tighten at the look in them, at the way he looked at you.

You were being honest though, you didn’t expect him tonight. You had seen him two nights ago, expecting not to see him for another few weeks at least.

“Shhh…” He shushed you gently, voice gravelly but gentle, tired but awake, undertones of desire.

He leaned down towards you and you found yourself holding your own arms back from wrapping around him and taking him already, just as he always took you. His gloved hands reached for the edge of the dresser behind you, trapping you between his strong arms and chest, completely invading your senses as your eyes looked into his, almost begging. His cape flowed down his shoulders and shrouded around you both until all you could see was black, the heady smell of smoke and rain tickling your nose, captivating.

He pressed himself against you, a brick wall, the mahogany’s edge digging into your lower back as your breath stuttered. You found yourself looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his closeness overwhelming you as you couldn’t figure out where to look, your skin feeling hot and stuffy, the confidence you had previously now a pile on the floor as your stomach twisted.

You could see the rain on his black suit, dripping down all his gear and heavy armor he wore and down to his waist, some falling to the floor in soft drips. You licked your lips, minding the mess, feeling lightheaded and fluttery as you looked back up at him with sparkling eyes.

He cocked his head at you, dark eyes running over your lips before looking back into your own, “Take your hair down.”

He always used such a gentle, tired voice, like he didn’t want to scare you and he could never find enough sleep, but the demand was obvious in his tone, eyes dark and predatory as they stared down at you intently. He didn’t need anymore command, knowing you’d do as he said just like you always did.

You didn’t dare disobey, sensing his need sizzling in the air just as strong as your shared want. You managed eye contact as you brought a hand up to the back of your head, taking out the black hair clip holding your hair together, the rain pattering on your roof almost too loud in your ears. He stared as your hair fell down your shoulders, cascading down your back in silky waves and framing your face. You swallowed, feeling the need to clear your throat as you put a hand through your hair and brushed it over your shoulder.

You saw his eyes run over your hair, the way it fell around your cheeks, his jaw clenching once more. He brought a hand up, big and heavy, running your locks through his fingers, imagining the softness of it as the sweet smell of apricot and citrus filled his nose, the signature flavor of your favorite shampoo.

You sighed at the pleasurable sensation on your scalp, head titling back as your eyes drooped, your hair clip falling to the ground noisily as you brought your hands up and grabbed his forearms. You might’ve been a little dramatic at just a few touches, but you were so needy, needy for this dangerous man you knew absolutely nothing about besides the obvious. He was a stranger in a suit, a stranger to you, but he somehow knew how to touch you better than any man you’ve ever been with.

He took note of your reaction, his own body twitching to touch you as he noticed the look in your eyes. He felt an intense need spark through him, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. He remained calm looking, but his eyes gave it all away.

Your head was yanked back, a pleasurable gasp leaving your lips as you squeezed his arms, looking up at him with your lips parted and breaths heavy. Your head stung, hair being pulled on in just the right way that had a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs, your body buzzing alive with feeling.

Bruce looked down at you, pressing the broadness of himself against you even harder, your breasts smushed against his suit, completely at his mercy. He looked down at you with an unraveled look in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards him.

He kissed you then, rough and hot, groaning into your mouth as his tongue played with yours, teeth clashing and breaths hot against each other. You couldn’t help but moan against him as he finally granted you what you’ve been wanting for so long now, scalp burning from his hold on your hair as your hands flew up and gripped at the leather of his mask, arms wrapped around his neck.

He was forceful and rough, his other hand crawling around your waist and lifting you off the ground with such ease it almost caught you off guard. You gasped into his mouth, his hand tightening on the hold in your hair as you grimaced at the pain.

You didn’t break the kiss, stuck on him as your heels fell off your feet and hit the floor. In two big strides you were suddenly lied flat on your bouncy mattress with Batman himself between your thighs, still holding your waist and head against him as he kissed you fervently.

Your skirt slid down around your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him, pressing him harder into you as all you wanted was him, him everywhere and him all over you. You moaned against him, helpless and desperate, as the ridges in his suit dug into your stomach, his lips movingly hotly against yours as he grunted against you. His cape flowed around you, thick and smooth, trapping you underneath until all you could see was blackness, unable to discern the space between his body and yours.

You knew this was going to be quick; he was too rough, too impatient and needy. It must’ve been a bad night for him, but you didn’t pry no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much the questions bubbled in your throat and ached in your chest you knew you were in no place to ask. A part of you liked it that way, liked that this was strictly this. You liked that you didn’t have to answer to him, that you weren’t bound to him and he wasn’t to you. It was just simple, secrecy for a night of shameless lust-filled sex in return.

You both got what you wanted and that was enough. You appreciated that he didn’t go beyond that just as you didn’t. Outside of this room he was Batman, a dangerous vigilante some trusted and some hated, he was Bruce Wayne, an orphan child with more money and pain than he needed. But in the shadow of your bedroom, under the covers with you, there was no identity, no obligation, just two strangers seeking each other out in search of the one thing they both wanted, blessed with none of the other drama that followed a relationship.

With Bruce on top of you in this very moment, his hands gripping your body for no reason other than pleasure, you knew he would be gone before the night was over, and you’d be alone in your bed with bite marks and handprints on your skin to serve as a reminder of the man who gave them to you. You knew he would silently leave, slip away when he thought you were sleeping, you knew he wouldn’t talk or tell you any of his problems. He’d give you what you wanted and then slip into the shadows… you had to admit, It was the most perfect arrangement.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman didn’t plan on ever falling in love with you, but when he did, it had happened after a couple of months of doing what he did with you. But before he did, things had been going so well. You never intervened in his life and he never intervened in yours. Just as he expected, just as he preferred. It had been perfect, but somewhere along the way he had gotten too involved, started to trust you without even realizing it.

⋆˙⟡♡ At first, it started with him staying in your bed longer than he used to. You didn’t argue, comfortable with the heat his body gave you in the coldness of the night. He found himself dozing off after you would, your fluffy blanket soft on his skin and the mattress like a cloud for his broken body. He’d always be gone before you woke up though. You didn’t want to say anything about his little sleepovers, scared you’ll frighten him and he’ll stop. So you let him do as he pleased, enjoying his company albeit his silence.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never cuddled with you though, ever (don’t worry, he lets that slip too). Always stiff like a board on his side of the bed, expression crumbled with pain and peace. Sometimes he’d flinch, nightmares you never questioned him about but always noticed. Still, he’d wake up after about an hour, slip out your window, but not before giving you one last look, seeing how the moon shined down on your soft skin…

⋆˙⟡♡ Then, it was following you home after work, making sure you got home safe on those dark nights where it seemed like every shadow was following you. He’d be on the rooftops, claiming he was just curious and bored, cape flapping in the wind, when in reality he just needed to make sure you got home safely.

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t know, but he was watching you much more than you’d ever suspect. He watched your home on the nights Gotham was quiet, his body knowing you were so close but oh so far. He thought about you when he wasn’t thinking about you, thought about the routine he had found in you, the unfamiliar closeness, the comfort he had found between your body and your bed sheets.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started kissing you more, flinching less when your fingers would graze his back. He let you look at him, look deep into his eyes when he was inside you, have your hands touching his face and his back without the security of his suit to hide him. You loved when he did that, feeling him under your hands, skin to skin as it should be.

⋆˙⟡♡ He let you see his scars in the light, didn’t care when he took off his suit and your bathroom light was on, shining down on his body and the sculpted muscle of it. He had learned you wouldn’t judge him, but he was still hesitant, suffering inside when he looked down at the floor as you gazed at him in awe… you thought he was so beautiful.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would watch you when you worked, watch as your boss would storm in and demand more from you. Bruce didn’t like that, would clench his fist and grind his teeth when you’d get scolded like a child, told to work harder when all you did was work. He’d have to control himself when your boss would walk past him on his way home every night.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started conversing with you more, holding you against his chest when you two were done. He’d ask you profound questions as you two stared up at the ceiling, you’d tell him your answer. He didn’t talk a lot, just liked to listen. It would be intimate, almost romantic. He’d listen to what you’d have to say and he’d learn, learn more about who you were, where you came from, and he’d find himself not wanting to leave, a dull ache in his chest every time you’d fall asleep and he’d have to slip out your fire escape.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never admitted it to himself, but he started to look forward to seeing you, found comfort in your small bedroom and the absence of life’s problems that came with it. He started to enjoy the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry from those candles you always forgot to blow out before work. He started to pick up on your little quirks.

⋆˙⟡♡ While gradually falling in love with you, Bruce would deny, deny, deny. He acknowledged that he was starting to feel things he didn’t want to, and he’d be incredibly disturbed and moody, more than usual. Alfred would even be a little peeved with him.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would find himself asking you how work was. He would be concerned about the bags under your eyes and the wrinkles in your clothes, not outright concerned but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to hear your voice.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would be very hesitant around you, scared he was doing too much when he’d touch you now. It wasn’t like before, when he would just grab and control. Now he was really touching you, trying to feel you, every dip and curve of your skin under his fingertips.

⋆˙⟡♡ He had gotten way too comfortable with you now, even he knew that. He relied on you and the comfort you gave, a feeling he’d been without for so long. He was like a cold soul lost in the woods, searching for something, anything, hollow, a warm body to bring him back. He found that with you, and he didn’t even realize it until he started to feel pain when he wasn’t around you, a pain in his chest like a knife was stabbing into his heart. He missed you but he didn’t want to…

⋆˙⟡♡ He stared at your face a lot, too intensely for your liking, thoughts behind those dark eyes of his he’d never tell you about if you confronted him about it. He just liked to look at you, watch you giggle and smile. He’d do it without realizing how intimidated it made you feel, how you’d have to blush and look away, pretend you didn’t notice. He just liked to look at you, soak in your expressions before he’d leave again.

⋆˙⟡♡ The signs were all there when you thought about it. The lingering touches, the admiring stares, the countless nights he’d watch over you. He felt like a creep, following you around so much, but he couldn’t help it. You were a pleasant distraction and he was a fool, easily succumbing to those feelings he had for you without even knowing it. They had been growing inside of him like a blooming vine… they started out small but grew into so much more, and he ignored it, until he just couldn’t take it anymore…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a quiet night in September, it had been raining for days and the coolness of autumn had just started to blow into the city. The trees danced with orange and red leaves, strewn all over the road and sidewalks, getting stuck under peoples rain boots and car tires. Your window was cracked, letting a cool breeze into your room that made you shiver, the savory smell of someone’s cooking wafting into your noses from the apartments across the way. You looked at your tv, black screen shut off but reflecting the blurred forms of your mingled bodies on your bed, arm outstretched on Bruce’s stomach, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart, slow and calm just as he always was, pumping in your ear and lulling you to sleep.

You wanted to stay awake though, listening to the sounds of cars driving in rain puddles and horns honking, the occasional laughter of a passerby. A candle was lit on your dresser across the room, with the faint scent of vanilla bean and raspberry in the air just as Bruce liked. Your legs were a little sore, thighs tender from where Bruce had gripped them so hard, lips puffy from where Bruce had kissed them so much. You felt satisfied, pleasant even, comforted by his presence, the knowledge of his identity absent in your mind as you didn’t register him as a millionaire, or as a crime fighting vigilante, you never really did.

He was neither of those things to you. He was… he was Bruce, just Bruce, your Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne or Batman, and that was enough for you. You took him as he is not as he was, never questioned him about his parents or how Batman was even created. He appreciated that, didn’t like answering questions about himself he wasn’t comfortable with. He was comfortable with silence, but he didn’t mind hearing you.

He was awake too, didn’t want to fall asleep before you, something in his mind telling him he should leave already, not sink into the mattress any further and let himself relish in your warmth. He had responsibilities, duties, people he needed to save and crime he needed to stop. It was Gotham, something was always wrong and someone always needed help. But he couldn’t think about any of that stuff around you, his thoughts always either empty or crowded with your smile.

His suit was a mess on the floor, scrambled just like his mind, bat mask clear as day in his vision, lit up in a red glimmer from the light outside. It stared at him with its blank eyes, watching, the buzzing of a neon light loud in his ears. It’s like it was mocking him, patronizing him. He frowned at it, turning his head slightly away from it, like it was a reminder of what his true purpose was, where he should really be this late other than here in your arms. He knew he should go, felt his arm twitch like he was about to get up and unwind from you.

“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? Or are you gonna stay?” You mumbled sleepily, voice so quiet and sweet he almost didn’t hear it.

His eyes drifted to you, rubbing his fingertips on your rib cage and savoring the feeling of your smooth skin underneath him, against him. You were so unblemished, unlike him. A few scratches and scars here and there that held stories and memories, none like his. His were ridged and pale, covered his skin, they held memories but none of them good. Memories that served as reminders of why this was so wrong, of who he really was and who he needed to get back to once he left these four walls.

He thought about it for a minute, frowning at the ceiling fan.

Did he have somewhere to be? Yes, yes he did. He always had somewhere to be, that was the problem. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, he could be somewhere else, but he was here instead. He was here with you, here with you. He had somewhere to be, could be anywhere else, but he was here. Everyone always expected him to be where they were, expected him to save everyone. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and he couldn’t be everywhere they wanted him to be. He was with you but he shouldn’t be. Guilt settled in his gut as he swallowed, hands itching like it was wrong to touch you.

His eyes, dark and somber like storm clouds, especially just as captivating, looked over your frazzled hair like he could see your face, knowing how exhausted you must’ve been from work and sex, how it was so late already and how you’d have to leave so early. Your breathing was slow and even, warm breath brushing over his chest from your parted pink lips, all cues of how you’ve already fallen asleep. He thought about your question, yes, yes he had somewhere he needed to be, he always did.

He didn’t bother speaking, just turned his head back and looked at the ceiling as his arm held you just a little tighter against him, hearing the splash of a car racing through water from somewhere outside.

He’ll stay for a little while.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ When he realized he was in love with you he left, he left for a long time. He refused to let those feelings blossom into anything more, grow into something more… dangerous. Love was dangerous, he was dangerous. He isolated himself from you, in a worse mood than usual. Alfred had picked up on it, knowing there was more going on than Bruce wanted to say. You couldn’t help the disappointment as the days turned into weeks, weeks of hope being crushed on with every night he wasn’t there.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told himself it was for the best, heartbreak was something you could heal from, death was something you’d never come back from. With his life, you would die. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t. He couldn’t subject you to that same fate his parents had.

⋆˙⟡♡ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you when you’d walk home, still sitting outside your job, your home, watching you from a distance to make sure you’d be alright. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t.

⋆˙⟡♡ He couldn’t sleep anyway. Eyes a dark purple and the ache in his chest getting so much worse. It was because of you he couldn’t sleep, bed empty and cold without you, mattress hard and firm unlike yours. His nightmares consisted of your death and his inability to save you. He was better off seeing nothing with his eyes open than your blood with his eyes closed.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alfred was concerned. Confronted his Master Bruce during breakfast when Bruce was silent and gloomy. Yes, Alfred knew he would confess eventually, just needed a little shove. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Alfred.”

⋆˙⟡♡ You couldn’t stop thinking about him either… work was slow and long, your thoughts muddled together as you couldn’t stop racking your brain for a reason, any reason, as to why, why he left. Did you do something wrong?

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t want to say you missed him, you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You felt almost stupid, like he had used you and discarded you, but wasn’t that the whole point? You were a mess, confused and feeling a different kind of lonely only a sad heart could bring you. You felt abandoned.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would hide up in his room and think, read books but not pay attention to the words. Alfred would bring him his tea and advice whenever he could, but it seemed nothing could cheer him up. Bruce felt a different kind of loneliness now than he had his whole life. When his parents died they were taken away from him, he didn’t choose to give them up like he did you. He felt like he had lost yet another person.

⋆˙⟡♡ He really thought about moving on from you, a part of him arguing thats what was best for you. But the thought of fully giving you up to anybody else angered him. You weren’t his but you’d always been in some way, his. He yearned to be near you again, an itch in the back of his mind only you could scratch.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drunk, a lot. Spent his free time as Bruce Wayne drowning in whiskey and scotch, heavy liquor bottles empty and discarded on the floor. He almost felt like crying, but he’d just pass out on his bed, too drunk to crawl under the covers. Sometimes he’d pass out in the common room, leg hanging off the couch and hair unraveled, Alfred cleaning up the mess and putting a blanket over him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drowned himself in his work to distract from you. He was frustrated, angry, weeks having gone by without you having set him on edge. He was beating petty criminals to a bloody pulp, sending them to Gordon barely conscious. He needed to take his anger out on something, anything. Alfred would just sigh when a bloody Bruce would storm past him, ensuring his suit was cleaned before the next day.

⋆˙⟡♡ It was a late Friday night when Bruce let his anger take control of him. It was some petty thief thinking he’d run off with the bags of cash he’d stolen. Bruce didn’t let him speak, anger taking over him like thick ropes of lava in his blood, anger that had festered in his black heart for weeks, simmering under his skin waiting for the moment it could boil over.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was bloody and dirty when he came to you in a blur of anger and love, adrenaline running through him with a determination boiling in his bones.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a dark cloudy night when you saw Bruce standing outside your window; you lay in bed, cozy and under the covers, bathed in the dim golden light of your lamp. You were pretending to read a book you’ve meant to finish with a frown on your face, mind full of memories and the fruitless desire to have it all back. It was a melancholic pain that throbbed under your skin, sharp and persistent like a plant rash, the memory of forgotten things plaguing your mind and wishing it could just all go back to the way it was.

You almost didn’t see him if it wasn’t for the thud on your fire escape; you jumped and the book flew to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened and you felt a wave of excitement and relief flourish through your veins as you scrambled off your bed. You couldn’t believe it, heart pounding as you rushed over to your window and swung it open like an eager baker opening an oven door. It was a big window, one with a giant view of the street below and the park across the ways, big enough to fit a grown man in a heavy suit.

Your hands were almost frantic, eyes wide in disbelief to just see him standing there in all his glory, back to you like he used to be all those weeks ago before he left, left you, left you behind. The memory of his loss and betrayal flashed back like a pull to reality, all those sad feelings you pushed away coming full frontal in your head like a tidal wave in your fragile brain.

Bruce’s heavy stare burned through you and it was like you could feel it on your skin, like a million microscopic bugs crawling all over you, your body buzzing with electricity and your hands almost shaking. You felt a flurry of difficult emotions coursing through you that all muddled together in one big mess in your head; anger and happiness, relief and irritation. You couldn’t pinpoint on one, feeling everything all at once when you opened your window and Batman was stood on the other side of you in all his threatening grandness.

You hated that he looked so good despite the grime.

You were left stunned as all you could do was stare at him. This was a moment you’ve only dreamt about, wished for for days and countless weeks, fantasized about for hours on end. How you would react, what you would say, how it would all go… and especially how he’d apologize on hand and knee for you, atone for his sins and plead for your pardon. It was all meticulously planned and carefully thought out, and now here it was, the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long; it was finally here, staring at you in the face. And it was so funny how all those ideas and all that confidence you had just seemed to vanish now that it was time to confront them; you were frozen as you stared back at him, unsure of what to do next and too tongue tied to formulate a thought. All that planning, pointless in the face of its precipitant.

Bruce stared back at you longingly and painfully, breaths hard and heavy and knuckles bruised and sore. His eyes were smeared in that black paint he always used, thick with an unspoken emotional torture, like he was being tormented in his own mind at the mere sight of you. He was in a way; you were his reminder of why he left, the catalyst of his destruction but at the same time his anecdote. It was all very confusing and contradictory; all he could understand was that it pained him to look at you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away.

Blood was splattered over his cheeks and suit, his heart pumping in his ears as he looked you over, putting all the pieces of you back in his mind; from your face, to your pink pajamas, to the black socks on your feet, then back to your cautious eyes. You were all right, you were okay and he was so relieved. He felt a weight drop from his chest, knowing you were in no certain danger but he always worried for you if he couldn’t see you, a consequence of everyone he cared for always getting hurt some way or another. Bruce felt what he could only describe as happiness, a feeling he only got with you, hit him full on like a train, smacking into his heart as his throat closed up.

He had missed you.

He had missed you a lot, more than he ever wanted to admit, but he would gladly do so for you. He had missed your pretty eyes and sweet voice, soft hands and smooth skin, and your voice, calming and rich like honeyed pastries. You were beautiful to him, so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe he had shown up here once more, that he would risk ever putting it in danger. But he had to come, he couldn’t take it anymore… and if his love for you was that perilous then his soul be damned.

He noticed the subtle way your face crumbled as your initial excitement died down, settled into pain and sadness and concern; your eyes running over the blood on him, wondering if it was his, really looking at him and realizing that he was really here, back on your fire escape. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was and he didn’t plan on leaving, not unless you ordered him to. You were nervous, eager to touch him, feel the suit under your palms like you used to, but you were also too stubborn to welcome him back into your home so easily, hurt once and not wanting to be hurt again. He understood that notion all too well.

Bruce felt an unfamiliar form of courage jolting through him, a type of courage so different from the one he used to fight criminals every night. This was a type of boldness that made him just want to grab your face and kiss you, hard, make up for all the lost time between you and spill all his confessions in the space between his lips and yours, make you taste the apology on his tongue. All he wanted was to be here again, here in your room; his nose was already filling up with the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry, his muscles relaxing instinctively at the sweet smell of it, knowing he was safe here. He wanted so badly to be here again, but now that he was he didn’t know what to do.

Bruce admitted that he was a little disappointed at your reaction to him, that you didn’t welcome him back in with open arms and gleeful smiles, kiss him and hug him and show him how much you missed him. But he knew that was too optimistic. He knew your antipathy was to be expected; he could only imagine the amount of hurt he’d put you through if it was anything compared to his own. He could only imagine how many nights you came home hoping he was there, waiting for you like he always did, how many days you kept looking at the clock, wishing it would hurry up and you could just go home already, how many days you hoped it would be different from the one before, how much hope he must’ve killed.

He felt horrible, regret and guilt spinning in his stomach as his muscles twitched, itching to touch you again; you were a drug coursing through his veins, and after two months of withdrawal he could say he was positively hooked once more. But, he knew he couldn’t just grab whatever part of you he liked like a greedy child in a toy store. He needed patience, he needed to wait for you to warm up to him on your own terms, no matter how long that took.

So, Bruce just stood on your fire escape with his hands holding the frame of the wall, blood and vanilla heavy on his nose as he stared at you, breathing hard but calm, waiting for you to make a move, any move or semblance of invitation.

Your eyes ran over the blood on him, the awkward silence deafening with all the unspoken words and yearning you both wanted so badly to address. Your eyes narrowed at the red spots and stripes on his suit and face, dripping off his gloves, worry shooting through your buzzing veins. You took a step back away from him in discontent, curious as to why he has suddenly appeared after so long away, eyes looking him over like the situation has really dawned on you. It had been weeks, two months even, since you’ve seen him, seen his black eyes and pointed ears, seen the vague Batman symbol on the chest piece of his suit.

Memories were coming back wave after wave at the sight of him, ones that wanted you to embrace him, ones that were gradually persuading you to give up this act and just be thankful he was here again, back to you. But you knew better than that, knew better than to just simply overlook a mistake as monumental as the one he made. You needed to have some damn pride.

Despite that…

Were you happy to see him? Yes, yes you really really were. You wanted him to just take off his mask and kiss you already, hell, you didn’t care if he left it on because you just wanted him to kiss you again. You wanted to feel his big arms around you once more and feel his warm palms on the dip in your back. Have him lift you up and smile into his kiss and say those magical words you yearned to hear. You could try to act tough all you wanted but at the end of the day you were still just a girl, a sad girl who wanted to be held by the man she missed so much… but your anger was still so present, lingering cold in your veins and greatly overpowering any positive emotions you had.

You wanted a damn good reason for why he did what he did.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? I thought you had moved on.” You licked your dry lips, crossing your arms and glaring at him with distaste and a false sense of confidence, a faux act of strength and apathy to cover up the real pain you felt. Your tone was anything but friendly, standoffish and disinterested, conveying the anger you felt almost perfectly; if it wasn’t for the waver in your voice and the glimmer in your eye you would even believe yourself.

You frowned at him, a cruel part of you hoping he was feeling any kind of hurt, any kind of hurt like the hurt you’ve felt. But at the same time, you just wanted so badly to hear that he came back for one reason and one reason alone. You. You wanted to hear him say that he missed you dearly, that he was so sorry for what he did and that he’d never do it again. If you heard that, then maybe, just maybe, you’d forgive him. No, you definitely would.

Bruce almost flinched at your tone, but knew it was well deserved. He looked at you with guilty eyes, like he’d committed the most heinous crime (which in his mind, he did), frown deep on his lips where a cut was on his skin, swallowing down the nerves in his throat at the look in your eyes.

A string of fear curled in his chest and made him nervous, made Batman nervous, a fear of being rejected, of him telling you how he really felt and you not reciprocating it. He couldn’t bear it, the uncertainty. But he was also afraid of hurting you any more than he already has, arguing with himself that he shouldn’t have come. But he was already here and he couldn’t leave now, couldn’t disappoint you any more than he already has. He looked up at you, his chest fluttering when he looked into your eyes.

“‘Could never move on from you…” Bruce grumbled in that deep voice of his, sounding pained and earnest and genuine, pulling at your heart like a trained harpist and making your eyes burn with brimming tears. He meant it, meant it more than you knew, staring at you with so much emotion in his eyes it almost scared you to see it; it was so unlike him to be so emotional, a part of you grateful that he trusted you enough to show it.

You felt a tingle on your skin when you looked back at him, a spark of joy peeking through the dark clouds around you. I could never move on from you…

Bruce’s dark eyes flickered between yours, gauging your reactions, intense and brooding as they always were. They bore into you like he was laying your soul bare in front of him, seeing deeper inside of you than you thought was possible. It made you feel flustered and agitated at being examined so fiercely. His voice, my god his voice, so soft but so gravelly, made you flustered, especially hearing it again after so many weeks of going without it. It washed over your skin like a warm blanket and made goosebumps pop up on your arms, a chill going through your spine that made your heart spike. You were trying so hard to fight it, fight that feeling inside of you that wanted him so badly.

You almost scoffed at his proclamation, looking at him offended, almost too theatrically, too rehearsed.

“Well it seems like you did, so.” You shrugged stubbornly, not knowing what else to say, really, not wanting to speak too much or else you’re afraid he’d hear the longing stutter in your voice. You shook your head incredulously and looked at the wall besides the window, where he stood outside in the cold air still. Secretly, you wanted to bring him inside already, bring him between your arms and hold him against your chest until he was one with you, unable to leave and bound to you forever, souls entwined and breaths shared. That may be a tad dramatic, but that’s what you felt; you knew he needed to cross that barrier on his own… you also knew that the moment he stepped back into your sacred space, the moment his heavy black boot stepped onto your wooden floor, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anymore, and you’d collapse in his arms like a dying bride.

Obviously, that couldn’t happen. You needed resistance, strength, a reason.

You couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes and the vulnerability staining your face. It was too embarrassing and too real; you didn’t want Bruce to see how easily you got worked up because of him. You didn’t want him to see all of you just yet, wanted him to feel guilty for what he did to you. He hadn’t even said much, just a single sentence, and you were already a desperate mess hiding under a false security. It was always so easy for him to get to you and you wished you were stronger for it.

Bruce knit his eyebrows at that, subtly shaking his head with a frown as his eyes still searched for yours. He wanted you to look at him, to see the honesty in his words and the sincerity in his blue eyes. He wanted you to see that he was hurting too, just as much as you.

“I didn’t… I just needed some time away… I needed to think.” He confessed vaguely, his voice gentle like he didn’t want to spook you, quiet but just loud enough for you to hear. Bruce always treated you like you were so fragile, a slippery glass vase between his clumsy hands. He never wanted to drop you, hurt you and watch you crumble into a million pieces… but he already did, and now he was trying to glue them all back together, put you back together, but only if you’d let him.

That was something you had come to appreciate about him; his gentleness, so opposite of the image he represented, what everyone believed him to be. He wasn’t just Batman, vengeful and harsh and dangerous. He wasn’t just bloody fists and sharp edges. He was incredibly genuine and tender, complex and multilayered; he was more than the bat, the symbol, the orphan, the millionaire. He was intricately sewn together with all different threads, and over the course of the year you and Bruce shared together you’ve managed to pluck and pull them all, see the warm center inside his cold shell.

Those were sides of him only you got to see, only you got to witness, only you got the privilege to marvel at and cherish. It might have been foolish to think, and you certainly think so now, but you had thought that made you special, that you were the only one he trusted enough, cared for enough, to show that side to… that there was more affection sizzling between you than you both wanted to say… but that just made it hurt so much more when he left, it just convinced you that you were too gullible for love, too naive to tell the difference between love and infatuation. When he left, he made you feel stupid.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, your face twisting into an anger Bruce didn’t want to see. Your eyes flashed to him immediately, burning and piercing and blazing, his words bouncing around in your head like a twisted game of racquetball. To think? He left, for months, because he needed to think? It sounded so phony, a simple excuse to disguise the truth, a simple excuse that only angered your unspoken pain.

“To think? To think about what? You’ve been gone for weeks, Bruce! You just left, didn’t tell me anything, didn’t tell me why, but now you’re telling me it’s because you had to think? That sounds ridiculous. I think I deserve a better explanation than, you had to think.” You mocked him, scoffing in his face. You were frustrated and lonely, wanting, deserving, a better reason to justify the pain you went through when he left. You couldn’t believe he couldn’t at least grant you that, a credible reason why.

Bruce grimaced, eyes closing like the sting of your words had just stung him. He slouched, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted to. They were stuck in his throat, itching his tongue and wanting so badly to get out, but he was mute, could only try to explain himself. Besides, there were no words to express just how sorry he was, but he knew how right you were. You were always right. You did deserve more than that, you deserved a better explanation.

Bruce swallowed down his dry throat, clenching his jaw as he looked back up at you, aching to step through the threshold of the window and grab your face between his broken hands and kiss your tears away. He felt hot coils of guilt and regret wrap around his heart and squeeze, his chest collapsing in on itself.

“I-I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. I needed to think… and to do that I had to leave. I just needed to understand why.” He spoke raspy, voice gritted with anguish and sincerity, looking at you with such desperation it made your foot itch to step towards him, made your heart yearn to comfort him. He was downright pitiful, fingers holding onto the brick so hard it could crumble under his strength. He was slouched down, looking up at you with sunken eyes, begging and pleading without an ounce of shame.

You stared back at him, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt. God, you really did just want to hold him again, kiss him again… the need was too much, burning inside you and crawling under your skin. You had your hands crossed over your chest like you were physically trying to hold yourself back, like you were trying to protect yourself against his woeful whims of persuasion.

You frowned at his statement, the rational part of your brain that was still logical and loyal to you making you want to question him more, learn more, find out more. Your shoulders slumped as you looked back at him confused, lips pulled in a frown.

“Why what? Think about what? Can you stop being so vague!” You said exasperated, wishing he would just say what he meant and stop being so damn secretive all the time. Especially now, especially here. He was the one who showed up here after all this time and now he was trying to just sneak by with it. You refused to let him, forced him to confront his own dilemma. You couldn’t see it any other way, blinded by your own rose colored rage that needed an explanation.

Bruce grit his teeth, working up the nerve to answer you as he looked down at your feet, looking physically pained. He wanted to tell you why, he wanted to tell you why so badly, but just as soon as he wanted to say it he was found at a loss for words, struck with that same fear again that made his words stutter. That same fear of being rejected, ridiculed, that fear of putting his heart on his sleeve and having you pierce it with a silver dagger. He was Batman, the shadow of shadows who dealt with worse pain than you could ever imagine. He’s been shot, stabbed, cut up, pushed out of a window, and any other horror you could ever imagine but somehow… none of that hurt would ever compare to the pain caused by your rejection.

You had the power to destroy him and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t know how much of him you carried with you, how easily you could make him fall. Against Gotham he was the Dark Knight, relentless, strong and menacing, capable of things you didn’t want to think about. Against you… he was nothing, powerless, a twig in your hand you could crush without a thought. He was weak against your beauteous thrall and he just wished he could’ve admitted that to himself so much sooner.

Bruce felt his heart constrict, his palms suddenly clammy and his throat suddenly dry; he swallowed roughly. His own heart pounded in his ears, beating under his hot skin, the reality of what he was about to say hitting him full force and he felt like he could pass out, right here on your fire escape, light headed and heavy chested.

He let out a big breath through his nose, gripping the wall between his bloody gloved hands, mustering up the confidence he needed and pushing his fear down, down and deep so it couldn’t be acknowledged anymore. He smothered his insecurities and doubts like a candle wick, clenched his jaw and cleared the smoke from his mind. Bruce looked up at you, eyes glimmering like fire light as they looked over your form once more. He looked up from your socks and your feet, up to your smooth legs and pink nightgown, up to your face, where he focused intently on your lips and nose and eyes.

You looked back at him, where he was staring at you with a type of ferocity and intensity it had your breath stuck in your throat, chills going down your spine.

“…Why I was in love with you.”

You swore your heart stopped.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, you loved him back, and Bruce couldn’t have been happier about it. But, during the actual relationship he was very much still the same, but you could see that he was trying to be closer to you, it was just hard for him. You helped him, made him feel not so scared.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were patient with him, never judged or pushed him to do things you knew he had a hard time doing. He always wanted to talk to you about his parents but he would stop himself before he went in depth about it. That was something he needed time with, and you understood it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always doing small things for you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him. He would always smooth out your pillows for you, make you breakfast and be shy that he made something you didn’t like, he would even blow out your candle for you if you ever left it lit. He would give you small gifts, sometimes expensive, a bracelet or a necklace, a set of earrings his mother adored. You loved them all.

⋆˙⟡♡ You had to buy him those vanilla bean and raspberry candles you had. He set them up around his home because the smell reminded him of you and your house, his safe space.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still didn’t like to talk, but he loved to listen. He’d ask questions that were deeply intimate and personal because he wanted to know everything about you. He’d apologize for prodding but he really had no shame about it. He wanted to know you more, learn everything.

⋆˙⟡♡ He loved holding you in his sleep, you made his nightmares go away and made him feel less lonely. He would still flinch sometimes, keep his hands at appropriate distances away from your precious parts. He was a gentleman, that was for sure.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t sleep a lot still, so he’d always stare at you when you slept, brush his hand on your cheek when he’d leave in his Batman suit for the night. He hated leaving you, but knew he had responsibilities to his city he couldn’t abandon.

⋆˙⟡♡ He introduced you to Alfred, rather, Alfred went to clean up Bruce’s room early in the morning and found you two in a rather compromising position. He just chuckled and walked out while Bruce awkwardly scrambled to compose himself. You were mortified.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce liked to draw you a lot, most of the time from memory when he was bored on a late night, sitting on a rooftop with charcoal scratching on ripped paper. He didn’t show them to you, but you found them anyway.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce was soft, gentle with you, but sex was a different story, just depended on his day. Most of the time he was sweet, making up for leaving you and hurting you. He always carried so much guilt about it, even when you told him you were over it and understood why he did it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t come out with you as a couple to the press, as Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want them to badger you and question you, make you feel uncomfortable. He came to you a lot, his house was always under constant scrutiny from the public.

⋆˙⟡♡ He threatened your boss when you refused to quit your job. It was late, he was Batman, and your boss just so happened to walk past him. Bruce threw him against the wall with promises of pain if he didn’t treat you right. You had a sneaky suspicion your boyfriend had something to do with your now positive work atmosphere and sudden raise, but decided not to question him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always touching you, or kissing you, hesitant to show outright affection so he was subtle when he did it. A hand on your lower back, hovering over your jacket or gently pressing into it. A hand on your arm, a peck on your forehead, a kiss to your cheek when you’d fall asleep.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told you he loved you every night, rarely ever during the day. It was in his bed or yours, when it was silent and cozy, he’d whisper it in your hair or against your skin, and you’d smile and tell him the same.

⋆˙⟡♡ You never expected anything from him besides his love, but he always felt like he owed you something, grateful that you gave him this chance to be with you despite what he did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was constantly worried about you, on edge when you would be out by yourself or come home later than usual on the nights he couldn’t see you. He would always think the worst, think you were dead and he was too late, someone found him out and was using you to blackmail him. All the worst scenarios to prepare himself for the worst outcomes.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is constantly having negative intrusive thoughts. You’ll leave him, he doesn’t deserve you, he should’ve stayed gone. He’ll go quiet and try to isolate himself when that happens, so you always try and support him and reassure him in any way you can.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still has such a hard time being vulnerable and talking about his past, but he tries with you. He’ll get tongue tied sometimes or a sentence will drift off before he can finish it, but he’ll try.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is always so busy he forgets to eat. You’ll constantly remind him food is good for you. So, some days he’ll go eating nothing at all, despite you and Alfred’s insistence. But when he does, it’s a big feast Alfred prepares for him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He is very sweet, a complete gentleman. He has the best manners. He always says his pleases and his thank yous. He’ll follow a question with, when you have a chance, if you can. With Alfred though he’ll be so distracted he’ll just walk away. He doesn’t mean to, just makes sure he’s extra gentle with you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He likes black and white films to play in the background when he’s not doing anything. Or slow, almost gothic music to really set the tone. He’s emo like that and I just know it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He goes to Alfred a lot for relationship advice, scared he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. He wants to avoid making mistakes with you, so he’ll ask for help or reassurance on what to do.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce has a tendency to ignore any problem until it goes away, especially to avoid a fight with you. He’s confrontational when it comes to you, so he’ll let you have your way a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to fight with you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Bruce was sweet and shy, always making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He never judged you when you’d tell him your stories or your past, he never accused you of things, and he never raised his voice at you when things would get frustrating. He loved you too much, appreciated you too much. You had no idea how happy you made him even if his face didn’t show it.

He was still wary, scared you’ll leave him, scared one of his enemies will find you out and take you away from him. But he was always there, watching and protecting, hiding in the shadows, being the shadow, on the nights you didn’t know. He may have been Gotham’s protector, but he was also yours.

He loved you and was grateful for you, so grateful he met you when he did and that you trusted him enough to let him see every lovely part of you. He vowed to protect you, to cherish you, and he made good on that promise. Even going as far as to blow out your candle every day before you’d leave for work. Couldn’t have you burning your house down, now could he?

Honestly, I could go on and on about this man so I think I have to end this here. But thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed, especially @diavolosbaby who requested this. I really hope you like it, and if you’re not satisfied or I didn’t answer your ask correctly then don’t be afraid to tell me 💕💕 constructive criticism isn’t bad mmkay ☺️💕

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

He Canceled Hot Girl Summer 🔥

18+mdni

Series Master List

Brunch with the ladies…|

“She was talking about, my man my man my man, whole time mind you, her man had downloaded Grindr in order to see hole and I only found out because he matched with Autumn and asked if he was down to fuck. Whole time even after I told her and sent the screen shots that Autumn sent me when he figured out who the dude was, she had the nerve to say and I quote ‘Aaliyah don't be jealous bitch because you can't keep a man even as a whore’, mind you she only made her goal for that week because I invited her to do a double with me.’” Aaliyah is busy telling a story about her acquaintance that she sometimes works doubles with.

The table erupts in laughter, and for once in five months, you feel alive. It's been forever since you left the house without worrying about Omari. Johnny had insisted that you go and have a girl's day with your friends, and he was gonna have a guy's day with his mini-me. Sure, you were apprehensive about the whole ordeal, leaving Omari with his father while you went to therapy, or got your hair and nails done was one thing. Each little outing would be done and completed within three hours. Brunch with the girls, though? That was damn near an all-day thing. You four would meet at some ritzy ditzy outdoor place and order bottomless drinks and food. Trade dating stories about your sex lives, talk about family drama as if you four didn't all grow up within walking distance of each other, complain about missed connections and give opinions on flavors of the week. Then after the bill was fought over because one of you always wanted to treat the other three, you'd all stumble out, find some boutique or mall and make questionable clothing purchases, only to find yourselves back in an open patio restaurant for an early dinner, trying to chase away a brunch time hangover.

You hadn't done this in months. It was like breaking through an endless wave of depression and depersonalization. You didn't feel the immediate tug of motherhood. Instead, you felt like…well you again. Loud, fun, flirty (the cute guy at the bar had sent you and the girls drinks all because you smiled so pretty at him), and most of all like a whole person and not some milk dispenser.

Your name cut through the laughter and huffs as the girls all calmed down. Rosette was beaming at you from behind her glass. She waits until the table is quiet before she begins, “So tell us all about John and how he's been these past few weeks?”

You shift in your seat as everyone stares at you, “what is there to tell?” You sip your mimosa and sigh, it's been so long since you've drank but Johnny had insisted you do that. He'd taken the liberty to research the best formula for Omari and said in that sweet Scottish accent, that his mini-me would be fine for a day without milk from the source.

“Well one, you aren't sleeping with him, right?” Aaliyah snarks. She raises an eyebrow, “Just wanting to make sure.”

“No…we aren't doing that. Truth be told, I like having John around. My only issue is that he's an NDA soldier, and suddenly, all the cameras and the privacy film on the windows make sense.” You sigh. Just as expected, the girls all stare in shock. “He wants us to move somewhere else, safe and secure. It was an argument, really.”

“Well you aren't married to him, so you don't need to.” Jay sips her drink with a frown, “He isn't trying to make you stay out in the middle of nowhere, right?”

“Some little village out in the highlands, an hour or so from his own family.” You snort, your eyes don't miss how everyone cringes. You all have the same experience, growing up in some middle of nowhere commune, land bought by four well decorated and wanted black-ops soldiers that wanted to hide their families. Homeschooling done by your mothers, every outsider vetted carefully, the small town didn't really trust you all but accepted your strange clan.

It's Rosette that places a hand on top of yours, “It'll be fine, I'm sure if you explain your reservations, he'll understand.”

“Other than that, he and I have been fine.” You quickly change the subject, “He has started taking me and Omari out to do what he explains is his idea of family activities. You know the zoo, aquarium, and picnics at the park.” You strategically leave out that for the past two weeks, he's been staying at your place. He takes night duty with Omari and only wakes you to breastfeed so you don't wake up with sore and swollen breasts.

You leave out that Johnny speaks with your mom as much as his own. While he doesn't particularly enjoy speaking with your stern father, he does, and he's respectful. Sure, the girls know that he pays for your hair and nails, but they don't ever need to know that he helps regulate you after a hard therapy session. Holding you close in a tight hug, whispering that he's got you and that you aren't failing your son and that you are indeed a good mother and an even better woman. Calming your fears that your family will only see you as irresponsible for making Omari without being married.

Your three best friends don't need to know any of the emotional episodes you have when your hormones become too much, and Omari demands all of you. When you feel wrung out with nothing to give him and it's Johnny who has been picking up those pieces. They don't need to know that he has planted himself into your life as much as his son's and that you've let him practically move into your apartment.

“Adorable that he's doing daddy duties.” Rosette smiles.

‘Yeah’ you think. ‘Adorable’. You clear your throat and grin at Rosette and look to Aaliyah, "How did that double date go the other week with Kyle and Simon?”

Rosette sighed dreamily, “Other than Aaliyah trying to fight the chef and getting the four of us banned from that restaurant. I think Kyle might be the one.”

Jay snorted, “How did that happen?” She places her arm around Rosette and glances at her “And you sure you want the other military guy to be the one?”

Aaliyah only shrugged and didn't even look like she was ashamed. That was your best friend though, “Look, he asked for medium well steak, and they brought that man well done steak, and he was just gonna suffer through it silently. I wasn't about to let anyone eat that dry ass steak and then pay for it? Fuck out of here!”

Rosette still had heart in her eyes, twirling her hair around her finger. She had recently dyed the end of her locks a pretty shade of deep red. “I can overlook him being in the military. He likes me for me, warts and all.”

You smiled at her, “Get to know him a bit longer, we gotta make sure it isn't dick-matism”

Chapter 6: The Soap Chapter 🧼

Johnny had settled into his new life as a dad. Sure, when he started his leave, he didn't expect to be a dad. When he looked at Omari, stared into his pretty blue eyes, brushed his fingers through his curly hair, and held his tiny little hand; well, Johnny knew he had to be better in all aspects of his life. The mother of his son had done such a remarkable job without him for a year and four months. He wants, no, needs to take care of them both and give them a good life.

He still felt a pang of sadness and anger at himself for sneaking out and not staying to at least leave you his number or Instagram. Often, his mind would wander back to the night you had both made Omari. He thinks about the wild night you shared. The way your eyes stared at him as if you didn't want to be anywhere else but with him, drinking and bar hopping, playing pool, and taking shots off of each other. He replays in his mind the kiss that broke the damn. That moment was frozen in his psyche, engraved in his mind as a core memory. He was tipsy then, too smitten by you to understand that he had found what he teased and secretly envied Price for having.

Having Omari Malachi- God willing, you let him change both of your last names - MacTavish - just made him want the whole thing all at once. Him always being in the line of danger made him want to speed run everything and break his Captain’s record of getting married in four months. If you had him, he'd get married at the court house and deal with his mother's and sister's ire later.

He's on base with Omari, his little bairn strapped to his chest. The past two weeks he's been staying off base with you and his wee one, crashing on the couch and taking night shifts and then more often just taking the brunt of the work with Omari, insisting that you rest. Every cry his son let out was met with him picking him up and setting him right, and if he could swing it, done without having to wake his Chuilein.

Most of the other soldiers on base and in the hallways stop and give him a double take. There's a sense of pride that swells in his chest as he catches the way people stare at his son. People stare with shock because there's no way Soap is carrying a babe on his chest! He gets to Price's office and hears the gruff sound of Simon talking.

“I've never actually been told before that my mask wearing was a sign of anxiety and complex ptsd…the woman is a pain in my ass.” He is complaining, which is a rare thing that he seldom does.

Instantly Johnny knows who he is talking about. His friend is referring to the date he was swindled to go on by Kyle the other week. Shaking his head, he knocks on the door and when he enters, it's to his Captain and Lieutenant looking over papers. “From what mah lassie says,” Johnny grins widely, “Aaliyah actually likes ye or she would've charged ye for the hours after the agreed upon date ended.”

Price chuckles at the glare that Simon sends him before looking at the squirming baby strapped to his chest. His mustache twitches and lips pull into a smile, “So that's him, huh?”

“Yeah,” He pulls Omari out of his wrap and promptly drops him into Simon's lap, “Meet mah boy Omari M MacTavish.”

Upon getting put in Simon's lap, Omari immediately goes for his mask. His chubby little fingers are trying and failing to grip onto the fabric. He squeals and settles on patting his face and trying to eat the mask instead by placing his mouth on Simon's cheek.

“How did she come up with the name Omari?” Simon asks. He's careful with the boy, squishing his cheeks. “Don't try to eat my mask…it's my second skin.” To which Omari only doubles down and babbles away.

He plops down in the open seat next to Simon with a shrug, “She said she picked it ‘cause he looked like an Omari an’ Malachi got pushed inta being his middle name.” He smiles at his son, “an’ he looks like an Omari.” His eyes trail over to the papers on the desk, “aren't we on leave? We have like three more weeks left?”

Price sighs and shakes his head, “Laswell needs us for an op, so we may need to cut it short.” He at least looks apologetic, “estimate on moving out is next week.”

Johnny feels his blood run cold because it's currently Monday, and he's got a week or less to make sure his girl and son will be okay. He thinks back to the argument that he and you had three days ago. He had finally sat you down and told you what he did, how his missions were dangerous, and that he's made enemies in high places. That part, he was surprised that you took well, you didn't flinch and really only sighed with resignation. It was when he asked you to move out to be near his family, to let him set you and Omari up in a small village, that you snapped and told him no. The conversation devolved into him being a bit more stern than he wanted and you raising your voice. He tried to explain that your second floor flat wasn't safe, that he would feel better moving you somewhere more secure, and it would keep his nerves from being shot when he was gone.

“John, I'm not letting you just show up and tell me that I need to let your choice in a high-risk career dictate my life.” You had said when the argument calmed down. You had been telling him repeatedly that you weren't leaving your very public job, you weren't going to be in some little village, and you definitely were not just going to do whatever he said.

“Steamin’ Jesus, that's gonna be a fun one.” He runs his fingers through his hair and notes that he needs to give himself a cut. “Chuilein may actually murder me.” He gives his captain a pleading look.

Simon grunts, “You said that she was okay with your work. So I don't think she's going to kill you.”

“She's gonna kill me, but not fo’ the reason ye think.” He reaches over and pulls Omari into his arms, “She's got some important event next week with her boss an’ some client an’ I already agreed that I'd keep Mini for the week while she travels.”

Price raises both brows in shock, “What exactly does she work as?”

“Some type of assistant at a talent agency.” He says, “Captain, how do you tell the Missus when you have ta ship out?”

Price laughs a bit before leaning back in his chair, “I usually take my wife out to do something fun or a nice night in before we ship out. Make some good memories in case things happen.”

It's a sobering thought that puts his new life perspective. He looks down at Omari and frowns. He doesn't plan on dying and leaving his family anytime soon. “Thanks for the advice, Captain.”

Seemingly not pleased with his dad and the change of mood, Omari starts babbling and squealing. Patting his face and giving him a gummy smile. Johnny sighs with a smile, “ So like…I also kinda wan’ tae ken what do I have tae do ta make sure Mini and his mam will be safe and taken care of if somethin’ happens ta me?”

Price and Simon both look at each other. They know that Johnny had gone through a quick and rushed lifestyle change. He declines going to the pub more often, opting to be with his son and his girl (as he puts it). He most recently started the habit of staying off base and where he normally would have had a short fling by now, which obviously didn't happen. He by no means is awkward, normally just saying whatever he wants and laughing off any and everything. Seeing him actually act like a dad was the same as seeing him rapidly mature, almost overnight.

Simon shrugged his shoulders, “You should elope with her. That way, you get on base housing, she doesn't have to move far and she is in a secure area while you're gone, and she's entitled to all the support a spouse married to a serviceman gets.”

“Now Simon, why would you-” John begins.

“That's a solid idea. I'll phrase it just like that, and she'll have no choice but to go along with it.” Johnny is smiling. Sure, it won't be traditional. It may even come off as ‘odd’ but he would get to be married to his Chuilein. Both her and his baby would be safe, and should anything happen, he knows his widow will be okay.

John only sighs. He knows that's going to create a row in the young man's life. While he hasn't met the woman that has his sergeant's heart, he does hear about the off the wall way she acts. So he leaves Johnny to the very bad idea and the lesson he's about to learn about trying to talk a woman into marriage.

Johnny spends the rest of the day hanging out in Price's office until he leaves with Simon to go figure out lunch. Omari hasn't napped yet, and he's pleased because that means his Mini-me will sleep through most of the night. Conversation, as always between him and his lieutenant, flows naturally up until Simon says something that's somewhat out of character for him.

They ended up off base in some shitty little restaurant that actually serves decent food. Omari has taken a full liking to playing with the salt and pepper shakers, fighting tooth and nail when his dad tries to wrestle them away.

“Johnny?” Simon says after taking a long sip of his beer.

“Yeah?” He doesn't really take his eyes off his son for too long.

“Don't go saying this to anyone…but I actually enjoyed the date that Kyle roped me into.” Simon mumbles.

This takes him off guard, “wait, really? I thought ye hated it.”

“Yes I hated the fancy place Kyle picked out trying to impress his bird…hated the food, and almost hated the alcohol.” He takes a deep sigh and drinks the rest of his beer. Then hurriedly, his mask is pulled back down onto his face. “It was after Kyle and Rosette left…”

Johnny nodded his head following along, “So ye didn' like the date but liked what the idea of the date?” He was a bit confused.

Simon huffs, and Johnny can tell that he's uncomfortable with whatever emotion he is feeling. His friend is tapping the table with his index finger and is staring at him like he's supposed to just know what's ailing him. It takes a moment, but he thinks over the conversation, and he thinks about what he's heard about that double date from his girl. Then it hits him.

“Simon…mate…did you sleep with her on the first night?” He asks and leans in close. He covers Omari's ears to shield him from his words.

Simon only grunts, “I did…after she told me that I should either see a therapist or get a vice stronger than cigarettes and liquor, because I fuck like I have trauma issues…that's where the comment about the mask came from.” He looks away from Johnny and doesn't say much more.

“Jesus…she's a piece of work, want me to say somethin’” Johnny feels incredulous.

Simon still won't look back at him, “Hm…I want you to convince your bird to convince Aaliyah to go on a second date with me.”

Johnny only blinks, completely and utterly thrown from a loop…because what? He shakes his head and smiles, “I'll see what I can do.”

a.n: so yeah this was the Johnny Chapter! Next Chapter we will be doing something different. Also I know my other stories haven't been updated (sweats) but I'm in a writer's block and for some reason I'm only able to write comedy or romance right now. Angst just isn't happening the way I need it too and I'm sorry yall 😔.

Tag list: @evergreenlake @royalty-cashinout @leahnicole1219 @gxuxhdjdu @daft-queen @vmaxis @curiouslittleprincess @lucienofthelakes @flairenragebelmont @gazsluckyhat

[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

OG

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

-

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

-

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

-

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

-

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

-

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

-

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

-

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

-

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

-

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

-

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

-

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

-

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

-

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

-

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

-

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

-

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

-

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

-

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

-

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

-

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

-

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

-

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

-

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

-

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

[enchantedlov3r]

~Wild enemies turned lovers~ A Jacaerys Velaryon love story Cowboy AU

Chapter 1

Summary: you and Jace were enemies, no one could get you guys to get along. so when you guys are forced to work together on your mother's farm for a summer, burning hatred turns into passionate love...

Pairing: cowboy!Jacaerys x cowgirl!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: lots of sadness and angst, Jace being a tiny asshole, aemond being a good friend, daemon being the reader's fav as he should, and lots of cussing yayy! smut in future chapters, fluff at the end kind of, mentions of death, arguing, let me know if I missed anything! enjoyyyy!

A/N: heyyyy... how y'all doin'.... so look I know I have other stuff to work on but I just couldn't resist y'all know me! so this is dedicated to a lovely girl @coral021 so I hope you like it and it suits your liking, this will be a series btw!

You felt as though you and Jace were supposed to be enemies since the womb.

Jace was always so stuck up and such a know it all while you were more reserved and chose to hide in the shadows.

yes you were outgoing and loved riding your horse around the farm, but you also didn't like a lot of human interaction with others you didn't know.

you were reserved and introverted that way. you liked to tend to the farm animals and do chores, stuff normal people wouldn't exactly enjoy doing.

but when you put those headphones on, you were in a whole other world. a world that Jace always loved to mess up when he and his family came to visit.

It was currently 2:55pm when Jace and his family arrived. It was Daemon, your favorite. Aemond and Aegon, Lucerys, Joffery, and Rhaenyra.

you spotted them from the barn as you were feeding the pigs. you finished tidying up in the barn when your twin sister comes running towards you.

your sister was your best friend, she was the only one who you felt actually understood you.

"There here!" she says with a giddy smile. "yea I caught that, you seem a wee bit too excited, I wonder why." you say your southern drawl coming in strong.

"oh stop it! you know he doesn't like me back, it's just a tiny crush anyway. to be honest I think he takes a liking to you." she says as you both walk hand in hand.

she had the biggest crush on aemond. he showed signs that he didn't like her back but to be honest your sister could never truly stay hooked on one man.

when you guys were 12 she had a crush on jace but when you guys were 15 she obtained a crush on aegon.

"you know how you get around him, I just don't want him hurting your feelings, you know how mean they are, and besides your too sweet for him anyway. and I highly doubt he wants me," you say smiling at her as you rub your nose with hers.

she was the joy and happiness that you don't have. you weren't exactly depressed but you weren't exactly happy either, being the oldest by 5 minutes meant more pressure on you then her.

but she was still able to put a smile on your face as always. you havent been the best, especially since dad died. it's been rough on everyone but daisy doesn't show it as much. tyring to stay happy for everyone.

(gonna name her daisy btw you can use it if not thats ok too)

you eventually just shut everyone out except her. your older brother, your mom, your friends, even other family members.

"you think mom's gonna tell em? that dad's dead?" daisy asks you. you sigh and look at your house up ahead.

"maybe, they are like family and daemon really did like our dad so maybe?" you say honestly. you weren't sure.

your mom hasn't left the house in months. he recently died and you guys had the funeral a few months ago.

she hasn't moved from the house and you and daisy were constantly trying to coax her to help out.

so instead of getting up to help she calls the Targaryen family over to help for the entire summer.

now to anyone that sounds amazing. to you, it was a nightmare because of the sleep schedule, the trouble you'd have to endure, and the endless amounts of teasing and annoyance from Jace.

"I like your outfit btw but you might wanna change, and shower. you smell like mud and pigs." she says snickering.

you had on a white t-shirt with blue overalls and a cowgirl hat on to keep the heat from out of your eyes along with your handy dandy cowgirl boots.

"yea yea, I know. but not before i do this!" you exclaim before rubbing your hands all on her arms and rubbing your cheek on her cheek.

"ewwwwwww! gross! whyyyy mee!" Daisy yells out as she runs away from you. you quickly follow after her you catch a glimpse of the four boys staring at you guys. your older brother, aemond, aegon, and jace.

"ok ok! I surrender. I give up, come on daisy I won't do anything, promise!" you yell out at her.

she laughs and puts both her thumbs up before making her way back to you.

you both walk up the porch steps towards the front door when your met with your older brothers gaze.

"Where have you two been? Mom was looking for you both to greet the Targaryens." he says with a stern gaze.

"doing the work you should have been doing. that's where I was." you say with a bit of venom behind it.

"well I was busy. you know taking care of mom." he says. you roll your eyes and so does daisy.

"bullshit Tyler, I was taking care of mom while you were out fucking some girl." daisy announces.

"oh wow, but what the hell was all that talk about how you care for mom's mental health and how you needed to now step up and be the "man" of the house and take care of mom?" you question, restating what he said the day after the funeral.

"I meant that. I'm doing that, I'm putting in more work than you." he says with his chest puffed out.

"Yea tell her." Jace whispers.

'Oh.' you saw what was going on here, Tyler wanted to act all tough and big and bad because they were here. well, you were gonna show your brother just how pathetic he is.

you glare at the boys behind him and then look at your brother again.

"hey by the way, tell that girl, what was her name again, cat? yea did you ever tell her that you had chlamydia and might have given it to her? yea did you tell her that you got it from her sister? well, that's too bad cause I uhm already told her. she's on her way here shortly so that'll be a fun conversation." you say with a smile.

"let's go daisy," you say before walking towards the door. "Oh by the way welcome back boys," you say with an insincere smile on your face before pushing the door to your household open and walking in.

you hear the muffled conversation and you smile knowing that there questioning your brother and his sexual acts and the fact that he just let me punk him.

"that was just cruel but well deserved." daisy says with a giggle. you smile at her and laugh too.

"Hi, Rhaenyra." you greet as you see her and your mom talking at the dining table.

"Hello girls, always a pleasure to see you guys." she says with that warm smile on her face.

sometimes you wished she was your mom instead of your actual mom because Rhaenyra actually understood you, unlike your mom.

"I would hug you but i'm covered in mud and hay, lemme go clean up yea?" you say to her with a smile.

she smiles and nods with understanding and you walk up the stairs towards your room.

you grab a little white sundress with yellow flowers on it. you grab some panties and a bra as well and walk towards your bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

It was currently 7:45 when you finally left your room after your daily reading routine, you got out of the shower a while ago and your ready for dinner.

"Hey! Come downstairs loser, dinner is ready, and Daemons asking for you." daisy says bursting into your room.

"hey, one I'm not a loser and two you had me at Daemon's name," you say excitingly as you rush downstairs with her.

you see Daemon's white hair and his black cowboy hat and sneak up behind him and jump on his back.

"RAHHHH!" You yell out as he twirls you around with his hands on your legs holding you there.

"There she is! How's my special girl." he says with a smile on his face. you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I'm doing pretty good old man, how are you?" you say laughing when he drops you off him at calling him an old man.

"well I was doing good until that statement child." he says rolling his eyes playfully.

you laugh at him and shove him with your shoulder snatching his hat off his head and putting it on yours. You stand next to him listening to him talk about his time here in the last hour or so and you smile.

your deep in his conversation when Lucerys runs to you with Joffery.

"Hey guys! Omg! Luke you're getting taller dude and Joffery last time I saw you, you were like this short." you say shrinking your hand a bit.

"Hey guess what i'm 7 now! and Luke is 13!" he says proudly. you smile at them and high five the both of them.

"well ain't that something nice," you say roughing up Luke's hair. "Alright, boys why don't you go and find some seats, dinners ready."

they both nod and go find a seat. you smile and bid him a farewell while you go and find a seat next to your sister.

"Hey sissy." you say with a smile. "hey loser." she says with a smirk. you kick her foot and she laughs.

"girls. no playing at the table you know that." your mom says for the first time today.

"but dad never had a problem with it." daisy says in protest. you roll your eyes not even bothering to put up a fight with her.

"Yeah well he's dead isn't he, so whatever I say goes," she says sternly making everyone at the table go silent.

"yea well you haven't done anything around here anyway so what's the point." you whisper under your breath.

"I'm sorry, did you have something you wanted to share with the family?" she says with that aggression and attitude in her tone.

"Miranda don't," Rhaenyra warns.

"No its fine. Yea I do have something to share." you say putting your fork down losing your appetite.

"Here we go again." Tyler says rolling his eyes.

"You have not moved from your room in months. you have done nothing to help with the farm, you just sit around and sulk in the coldness of your room. Daisy has coaxed you to start eating properly, I have stepped up and cooked and helped take care of the fucking animals you and Dad raised when we were babies. and yet, whatever you say is supposed to go? yea, mom that makes total sense coming from a woman who couldn't even go buy fucking groceries for the goddamn house." you say out of anger.

"please don't do this, not again bro," Tyler says.

"No.. no Tyler you have no right to talk. your last words to dad were that you fucking hated him and wished he wasn't alive anymore. and for what? all because he wouldn't let you sneak some fucking whore in the house?" you say angrily with tears streaming down your face.

"You wanna act like the man of the house so bad but you couldn't even make the real man in the house proud. I blame you for his death, every single fucking day. I hate you Tyler, and I hate you Mom because you act like it's nothing. You don't check on your kids, you don't comfort Daisy at night when she wakes up crying and calling out for Dad. you do nothing. and whatever you say goes right?" you yell at Tyler and your mom.

your full-on crying now.

"I can't even look at you anymore," you say finally before looking away from them both and silently crying.

"sorry to ruin this wonderful dinner that Daisy cooked. and I'm sorry Rhaenyra and Daemon and everyone else for making you uncomfortable. I'm fine now." you say calmly.

"darling, it's totally fine. I can tell you needed to let that out." Rhaenyra says with a smile on her face.

"You just ruin everything don't you, no wonder Tyler never wants you around either," Jace says under his breath.

"what the fuck did you just say?!" you yell at jace.

"Man come on don't make her angry," Tyler says.

"JACAERYS VELARYON!" Rhaenyra yells making everyone silent at the table.

"you have no right... no right to say that. out of all people you should understand as you lost your father, don't you start with this family, and put them through more hell." she exclaims.

"I've lost my appetite, i'll eat it later daisy. I'm sorry." you say before running out of the house and running towards the barn.

"why couldn't you just stay quiet like you always are Mom? I made a n-nice dinner and you ruined it. You too Tyler and you Jace. you guys know better but you act fucking childish anyway!" Daisy says with tears in her eyes as she runs to her room.

"I'll go find her, Aegon you go after Daisy. don't worry, we'll fix this." Aemond says.

you're sitting on the bench by the coupe of chickens when you hear rustling behind you.

"go away Tyler! I don't want you here right no-"

"Not Tyler," Aemond announces interrupting your sentence.

you turn around and see aemond standing there with his hands in his pocket.

"come to tease me like Jace does? if so I'm not in the mood," you say sitting back down to feed the chickens.

"actually i'm here to comfort you. see I lost my dad too so I know how you feel. My dad may not have died like yours did but I lost mine and I'm at least civil enough to know that, that shit isn't something to make fun of." aemond says as he sits next to you.

"Yea, it's not," you say throwing more food for the chickens. you glance at him and he's staring right back at you.

"you know I don't hate him, not really." you say with a slight smile on your face.

"who Tyler?" he asks.

"nope, not him no I hate him with my life. I mean Jace. I never hated him. He just started hating on me from the jump so I just went along with it. But it's getting exhausting. were both adults now, were 18, why can't he just act more mature." you say looking at the stars in the sky.

"I don't know, I'm never really around my niece all that well but maybe he likes you. You know, arguing and pretending to hate someone for no reason at all is a sign that they like you but are trying to hide their feelings deep down."

"Oh shut up!" you say shoving him and laughing.

"Just saying," he says with a smile. you smile back at him remembering how fun and nice Aemond really was. when you guys were alone at least.

"by the way you gotta stop bullying Luke, he's 13, and you're 19. get it together bro," you say sternly locking eyes with him.

"yea yea I will." he says smiling at you. you smile back and stare at him.

for a moment it felt as though time had stopped. you both stare at each other before Aemond's smile fades and he leans a little closer to you.

he leans closer and closer until he's near your ear. "we should probably get back, daemons calling." he whispers.

"oh uhm-" you clear your throat. "yeah w-we should. thanks aemond, I really needed this talk." you say with a smile before hugging him.

"no problem." he says hugging you back as he rests his head on yours.

you both walk back engaged in conversation again about his love life. of course, he didn't have a girlfriend. you're gonna have to tell that to Daisy, maybe another night...not tonight.

then out of the blue, Jace pops up in your mind and you speak before your mind can tell you to shut up.

"D-does Jace have a girlfriend by any chance?" you ask keeping your head straight, not daring to look at Aemond's amused face and teasing smirk.

"no...he doesn't. why, are you interested?" he asks nudging you a bit as he chuckles with amusement.

,"No, not at all. Just curious is all." you say with a little giggle. you both make it back to the house and are greeted with Rhaenyra and Daemon's lovely faces.

they thank you that you came back and thank Aemond for bringing you back.

you smile at them and bid the three a goodbye. you try to make your way up the stairs but the sound of Jace's voice stops you.

"Hey, wait," he says walking to catch you quick enough. you turn around with an emotionless expression as you really don't want to speak to him.

"look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that when I know your clearly hurting. I know what it's like to lose your father or someone close to you. I shouldn't have been such an asshole and I'm really sorry. If you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I would really appreciate it." he says with a serious face.

you saw past the serious facade though. there was something in his eyes, a look of not only a feeling of apologetics but of sincerity too, and passion and remorse.

a look that you can forgive.

"I forgive you Jace. I am really tired now so, goodnight." you smile at him and give him a light hug.

he hugs you back as his eyes widen. you've never shown him affection like this and neither has he so this... this was new.

"goodnight, i'll see you tomorrow then. my mom told me to help you with whatever chores you need help with," he says.

"oh ok, well then see ya tomorrow Jace." you say as you turn on your heel to make your way towards the stairs and go to your room.

you didn't quite know what tomorrow would hold for you but you prayed it wasn't Jace being an asshole.

if only you knew how much tomorrow was going to be hell for you...

Taglist: @raynesbandaids @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess and anyone else who wants to join.

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

©enchantedlov3r| All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[yanderetheumbrellaacademy]

When They Get Jealous

Summary: What happens when they someone flirting with you and they get jealous? Characters: Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Lila Pitts, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves, Viktor Hargreeves, Marcus Hargreeves, Sparrow! Ben Hargreeves, Fei Hargreeves, Sloane Hargreeves, Jayme Hargreeves Tw: Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Su!c!dal indications

Luther Hargreeves

Kind of insecure

He's also angry and crushes whatever he's holding in his hands

He's surprised when looking down at the crushed item

Then he becomes annoyed

He'll go to the bathroom to clean up and you'll quickly follow him

"Are you okay?"

He's surprised by your presence and the fact that you followed him

He'll then feel bad about his feelings before

You would never hurt him and he knows that, so why would he even feel that way? You've never done anything to justify that feeling

"Um... Nothing, I accidently- uh, crushed this thing- You know... Strength issues..."

You'll help him clean up/patch up and it makes Luther guilty and he momentarily forgets about the previous feeling... At least until next time

Deigo Hargreeves & Lila Pitts

What a duo

Lila definitely filled Diego's head with delusions and will convince him to do something stupid [Like kill the person flirting w/ you] while she hides the body

Lila takes it better, but inside she's more pissed than Diego

Diego is mad at you and won't talk to you. You'll have to profusely apologize and prove to him you care, otherwise he won't speak to you. Trust, he can hold a grudge

Lila, on the other hand, is very extroverted and will go over to where you are and talk to the person who was flirting with you

There's is definitely tension in the air, even though it doesn't show on her face

She's all smiles and happy, but it doesn't show in her eyes

Deigo is mad, but Lila sees it as an opportunity to manipulate you [She also wants a reason to kill somone]

You try and talk back and she'll bring up how sad it makes them when people flirt with you and she'll emotionally manipulate into feeling bad

You didn't like the person but... maybe she's right? I mean- you didn't exactly tell the person no or that you were taken, but you had asked them to stop.... Was that enough?

Allison Hargreeves

Oh, no no no nononononono

She is NOT letting that happen

The person who's flirting with you must have a death wish

She doesn't want to use her powers, but...

Well, she really has to fight the urge

She looks very sweet and kind, so she can just come into the conversation and play nice girl

She'll drag you off, talking about needing your help or something, while apologizing for taking you away [But she doesn't really mean it]

You won't even notice she's mad until you're alone

She'll accuse you of cheating or trying to leave her

You're taken by surprise, but don't even try and fight her, because she's in a very low/depressive state, so she'd be easy to push into doing something drastic

So, you'll have to wait until she feels better to confront her

Klaus Hargreeves

They already assume you don't love them, so this just fills this delusion they have

It really bums them out and they get super depressed

They get extra clingy whenever they get you alone

They're usually pretty clingy, so you don't think about it to much

Until, they start whining about the guy at the bar

They'll ask you if you like them [Flirter] more than them [Klaus]

You'll tell them no, but they don't believe you

They'll emotion manipulate you saying that you probably hate them and if you ever leave them, they'll kill themselves

Five Hargreeves

Someone flirting with you? Do they have a death wish??

Not afraid to kill a man or women. He doesn't care

The only issue is he'd never admit his jealousy. You have to confront him and at first he'll deny it, but if you keep pushing he'll get pissed and yell 'You know what- I am jealous! So what!?!'

You're surprised he admitted it, but that's the only time you're getting it

He'll deny saying it and gaslight you into thinking it never happened

He will kill them, he just needs a little time, which he has plenty of

It is bloody, gory and gruesome

No one will find the body, but he'll make sure you know the person is dead and it's all your fault

He'll make sure you never do it again because he hates this feeling and it bothers the hell out of him

Ben Hargreeves

He wasn't really having fun at the party, so when seeing someone hit on you, it just made his night worse

He's scared you'll realize that he's not good enough

He hates the icky feeling in his stomach and it only continues to grow

Though it does make the feeling subside when seeing you roll your eyes and push the person out of the way before heading towards him

It makes him giddy and smile; Like a school boy

The fact that you'd chose him over everyone else really fuels his obsession, so be warned

When you get to him, you complain about the person

"Did you see them?"

He'll pretend that he wasn't paying attention and you gasp, before sitting down and ranting about how stupid that person was

He practically has hearts in his eyes and he looks at you like you're the only person in the world, which to him you are

Viktor Hargreeves

He's annoyed, but he's not going to do anything drastic [Or at least he tries]

He wants to do something, but he doesn't really know what to do, because he's never had like a good relationship

He watches sadden from afar before wallowing in his own self pity

Though, after everything that has happened, he is a little bit more confident it just takes some working up before he can go over to you

He'll debate about it for a few though. Like he'll sit up, but quickly sit back down and do it over again until he finally gathers the courage to approach you

He'll finally approach you, thinking of what he's going to do as he approaches you, but when he finally approaches you he's still lost on what to do

He'll just act and kiss you infront of the person, which takes the flirter by surprise

The flirter will apologize and end up leaving you alone

You're surprised by Viktor's brazen behavior, but it's also kind of a turn on and he'll kiss you again before you can comment on it

Marcus Hargreeves

He doesn't get 'jealous'

That word isn't even in his dictionary

Well, that was until he saw a guy flirting with you

What is this feeling???

It's an icky feeling that he doesn't like it

He'll put an end to it quickly [Both the flirting and the feeling]

You're kind of taken aback when Marcus comes up to you and pulls you away from the conversation

He would have folded his way into the conversation, but he would have been passive aggressive

You try and ask him what's wrong, but he's quick to deflect the conversation

He'll push the feeling deep down and it'll come up when you both get into a fight

Sparrow! Ben Hargreeves

He's furious

If he wasn't busy nursing his drink, he probably would have knocked the guy out. Thankfully he's drunk and not sober

Though he can't help the thoughts in his mind... Violent thoughts

The thoughts will become a lot and he has to leave

He's mad at the person, but then he starts thinking and he suddenly becomes mad at you

How come you didn't tell them to back off????

He becomes slightly insecure but he fights that feeling and it becomes overcome with anger

He'll end up leaving without you, because he needs time to be alone and think

Though, this just makes his feelings worse. While he's drunk he's sad and depressed, but when he becomes sober, his emotions quickly turn to anger and he wants to confront you

So, when he sees you again he's anger has already been bubbling up and he blows up

You're taken aback and kind of scared because he's so mad and he's yelling and you can't even decipher what he's talking about

He needs some time to cool off, but he can't be alone, because his feelings will cool off

You'll go to another room while he cools off, so that he knows you're still around, but you're not alone together

He will eventually calm down and apologize for his behavior, but not with words, but like subtle actions, gifts, and such

Fei Hargreeves

You don't even know she's jealous, because she hides it so well

She's kind of scary looking, so no-one has approached her

She takes her jealousy pretty well and doesn't let it bother her

It just kind of rolls off her back

She's confident and knows who she is and what she wants, so she's not threatened by some nobody trying to hit on you

Though, if she sees you getting uncomfortable, she will step in

Thanks to her looks, they back off rather quickly

It's rather silly to her and she finds the whole thing stupid

She takes it the best and doesn't let it bother her

10/10 best girlfriend <3

Sloane Hargreeves

She's a sweet girl and doesn't deserve to be sad

She's a hopeless romantic, so when she sees people flirting and being cute, she instantly is like 'Awww' until she realizes it's you

Then she's mad and her mind races with multiple different scenario

What if you leave her?

Oh god, what if you don't love her anymore?

What if you click with them so well that you think they're you're soul mate and you leave he-

She shakes her head, before standing up

She fixes her hair, before putting on her brightest smile and approaching you

She's very beautiful, so they person who was hitting on you will turn and flirt with her too

She'll become annoyed, because they were just hitting on you and now they're hitting on her? Were you not good enough for them???

Who did they think they were?

Instead of being mad that they were flirting with you, she's mad they STOPPED flirting with you to flirt with her

You're incredible, so she's confused why they don't realize that

She calls them on it and you're really flattered, but you have to drag her away, so she doesn't get to carried away

Jayme Hargreeves

It's more of an annoyance

She doesn't think about it to much

She's probably the only one who WILL come up to you and interrupt your conversation in a rude way

If the flirter is rude to her she'll use her powers and pull you away from them

It all happens so fast, you don't even process it until you're back at the house

"What the hell was that???"

She doesn't even turn to you, but you do here her make a sound of confusion

Your brows frown, and you groan, "Why did you use your powers on that person"

"Why were you flirting with them?" Still she hasn't turned towards you

"I wasn't flirting with them!"

She keeps her cool, making brash accusations, which causes you to get angry and by the end of it she makes it seem like YOU are the crazy one

[mydemimonde]

my tears ricochet — aemond targaryen x reader one-shot

warnings: angst with no happy ending. mention and description of miscarriage, depression, character death, aemond being an asshole. no beta reading! i like alys but i needed to make her kind of a bitch for this

words: 4500ish

A/N: i hope you like this little piece of writing, took me like five hours lmao. english is not my first language so expect some mistakes. i have an upcoming fic with aemond x oc, if you're interested in reading it, here's a sneak peak. enjoy your reading! ♡

We gather here, we line up Weeping in a sunlit room, and If I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too

The words that left Aemond’s mouth cut deep in your skin. Your heart was heavy, a huge sharp pain was pressing your chest and you felt like vomiting. You were thankful you were sitting, otherwise your legs would have failed you.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, you could only hear his muffled voice, as if it was distant. The air grew thick with tension as Aemond’s words hung between you two, the Sun lighting the dark room.

“Alys and I…”

You have heard plenty of rumours about your husband and that woman in Harrenhal. You refused to believe them, you were sure your husband was an honourable man who loved you and respected you deeply. But apparently it was not like that.

All you could do was stare blankly at the fireplace, no emotion showing in your face, your hands together on your lap and some tears falling down on your cheeks, while he kneeled before you, explaining to you what happened, tears spilling from his eyes at the fact that he betrayed you. His dear wife.

“I swear to you, Y/N” he placed his hand on his chest, his voice broken and barely above a whisper “there is nothing else between us. I ended the matter”.

You stopped a bitter laugh from escaping your lips. Ended the matter? That was far from happening, you were sure of it. That morning, when he arrived with Cole and his men, a brunette lady in a green dress came as well.

Oh, yes. He even dared to bring her to the Keep.

According to Aemond, before he confessed his betrayal, that woman was an important asset to win the war for the Iron Throne against his half-sister and uncle. She could see things before they happened, she had visions and he needed her.

But to you, it was beyond that.

How could he betray you in that way and have the audacity to bring the woman he betrayed you with to your home? How could he do such a thing to you after everything you had to endure?

Memories of the weeks after you lovely wedding flashed through your mind.

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

“I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you said in between sobs, hiding your face from him. You were sitting on your shared bed after the maester left your chambers. It was your second failed pregnancy, apparently you were not fertile enough for a healthy one.

The world shattered around you, you wanted to cry and scream until your throat hurt, you wanted to set everything on fire. You were not capable of keeping a child safe in your womb, you were not capable of giving your husband an heir.

“Shh, my sweet love,” Aemond’s voice was soft, his hand caressing your back as the other went to take your hands and uncover your face. Your eyes and nose were red and puffy, tears still streaming down your cheeks. He wiped the tears with his thumb and hugged your shaking figure, trying to calm you down. “Listen to me. This was not your fault. None of it”

“But, Aemond, I-”

“No,” he interrupted, looking at you with a serious expression. “Do not blame yourself for this. It is a terrible thing that happened, yes. But by no means was it your fault, I want you to understand that” his thumb stroked your cheek as you regained your breath.

“Aemond, you heard the maester. I’m incapable of giving you a child” water began to pool in your eyes again, remembering what the wise man told you with a sorrowful look.

He nodded. “Yes, I have heard him. But I do not love you less for that. Y/N, I love you for being you, my dear wife. Not for what you can or cannot give me. I only care and crave for your love.”

You believed every word he said, every promise, every look directed at you and every touch he gave you. Oh, how stupid you felt now.

Since you were not looking at him nor saying anything, he took your hands in his. That caught your attention and you flinched, finally looking at him.

With a quivering and threatening voice, you managed to say: “Get out”.

After that morning, you still slept in the same chambers and bed. You slept on your edge of the bed, turning your back to him, while he slept on his side. Sometimes you felt him staring at you, he would try to touch you or talk to you, but you were very clear to him. You needed time to think, needed time to forgive him, and he decided to respect that.

However, after feeling the bed shift every night while you pretended to sleep and hearing his footsteps early in the morning right before waking up, you decided you would not forgive him.

You cried into your pillow every time he left, spending the night in another chamber. Her chambers.

Soon you began feeling terribly sick, you would wake up with nausea, vomiting your breakfast and with awful migraines.

“You are with child, princess” the maester’s words echoed in your head, trying to assimilate them.

“That… that’s impossible” you shook your head and smiled sadly. “I have already lost two. I am not capable of carrying a healthy pregnancy” you repeated the words the maester had told you several moons before.

The old man chuckled. “You are almost three moons in, princess” you blinked. “You need to trust this old man. This one is safe. But listen very carefully” his expression turned serious, your eyes wide with surprise as you nodded. “It is imperative that you follow a healthy diet to keep this child safe. You must avoid all kinds of strong emotions and stressful situations.”

Oh. Right.

You just nodded, taking mental note of his suggestions. “Thank you, master”.

He left your chambers and you stayed there, standing next to the fireplace, a hand lingering on your belly. You were now with child. Aemond’s child. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, thinking about what to do next, but especially about how you were feeling.

Happy? Relieved? Sad? It was all a mix of feelings that made you uneasy. You’ve been confirmed that this was a safe pregnancy, or at least it was if you followed the maester’s instructions. You should be happy, right?

But after remembering what Aemond had told you weeks before and his activities during the nights, you realised that happiness was impossible. You were unsure if after you told him the news, he would stop seeing her. After all, he promised their affair would cease, and he did not keep his word.

The sound of someone knocking on the door pulled you from your trance. “Yes?”

Queen Alicent, your mother-in-law stepped in the room. Her eyebrows were furrowed, a worried look in her face. “My dear, I have seen the maester come from your chambers”. She came closer to you, examining you and taking one of your hands in hers. “Is there anything wrong?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you could not find the words. “I- uhm” you cleared your throat and looked at your hands. “I’m fine, your Grace”

Alicent tilted her head. “You’re with child, aren’t you?” you lifted your head, your gaze wide and lips parting. She only smiled. “A mother notices things. I have noticed you have been feeling ill. Nausea and migraines” she explained, leading you to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I started with the same symptoms when I had Aegon in my womb. And from the look on the maester’s face, it appears that you and the baby will be safe”

You just blinked at her words. Certainly, mothers can notice things.

“Indeed, your Grace” suddenly you felt like crying. “I do not know how to tell Aemond, he-” you closed your eyes and looked at your hands. You took a deep breath as Alicent caressed your hair. You looked back up at her. “I know he has been seeing that witch every night. I see him do that. He swore to me he would stop, but-”

The Queen nodded and grimaced. She did not like that woman either. It was a shame for her that her (favourite) son would bring her mistress there. The fact that he in fact had a mistress was a shame itself. How could he disrespect his wife, his mother and his whole family like that?

Something inside you told you she already knew. “I’m so sorry, my dear” she hugged you and you felt at peace for a moment. Queen Alicent was truly like a mother to you.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

After your conversation with Queen Alicent, you decided to tell Aemond the news. For a moment, you hoped that if he heard what you had to say, he would immediately abandon the witch’s side and come back to you. You may still forgive him after all…

The Queen had arranged a feast in your honour. It would be the moment where you would tell him the news, with the rest of the family. You met Aemond in your chambers, right when you were finishing preparing yourself, you were combing your long hair when he entered the room.

His expression confused you. “I am afraid, my love, that I will not be able to escort you to supper. I have some unattended matter in the Council”

You frowned and felt quite disappointed. “But you will be able to attend, right?” you already felt a wave of desperation through your body. “Your mother has arranged this in our honour, you must not be absent.”

Aemond let out an exasperated sigh that took you by surprise. “I will, Y/N. It is just that I will be joining later with Cole, that is all.”

And so you walked to the Great Hall alone. Aegon, Helaena, Otto and Alicent, as well as some members of the Council —except from Aemond and Cole, of course— were already there, waiting for you.

When Alicent saw you entering the Hall with a blank expression and no sight of Aemond by your side, the corners of her mouth curved downwards. She approached you. “My dear Y/N, where is Aemond?”

You lifted your eyebrows. “He said he would be late. He had matters to attend in the Council.”

Her expression softened as she caressed your arm. “Well then, come with me. Let us have a seat and we may wait for him” you followed the Queen and sat next to her, to her right. There was an empty seat next to you, meant for Aemond.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, anxiety coursing through your veins as you lifted your head to glance at the doors. You have been there waiting for almost twenty minutes, the musicians were already playing some quiet music, the sound of people chatting filled your ears. 

Suddenly, the doors opened. Everyone stood up from their chairs and the music stopped. It was Ser Criston Cole who entered. Alone. He found your gaze in the crowded room, a sorrowful and sorry look on his face.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you had to witness later. Your husband made his way into the Hall, with Alys Rivers on his arm next to him. 

One of her hands lingered over her belly.

You heard Alicent scoff next to you, shaking her head at the sight. You, on the other hand, could not utter a word. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to run away from there. But your feet did not seem to move, it was as if they were glued to the floor.

Aemond met your empty gaze for a few seconds before moving towards the chairs in front of him. He pulled one for Alys, she thanked him with a soft smile that he returned and sat.

You could not stand being there, in the same room as them.

You turned your heels and ran away from there as soon as you could, tears spilling and making your vision blurry as your legs moved fast. You heard footsteps behind you, and a soft grip on your arm made you stop in your tracks. You turned your head and saw Aemond’s eye scanning you, noticing the way your cheeks were damped with your tears.

“Y/N, let us go back to the Hall”

Rage flowed through you like dragonfire. “Get your fucking hands off me!” you yelled with a brittle voice and freed from his grip with a strong tug.

That took Aemond by surprise, his wide eye proving it. You were staring at him like he was the biggest scum in the world. Which he was. And that felt like a dagger through his heart.

“Y/N, my dear, please listen to me” he pleaded with a low voice, trying to reach your hand.

“So now that whore is part of the Council?” you answered bitterly. He did not move nor said anything. “How dare you humiliate me in front of everyone? How dare you disrespect your wife and your mother in such a way?” you spat, nostrils flaring with anger.

Once again, he tried to reason with you. “My love, I promis-” he was interrupted by a slap across his face, startling him.

“Do not fucking call me that” you warned him, waving your index finger to him to turn around and leave to your chambers.

That night, you just let the anger and sadness take over you, sobbing into the pillow as Aemond heard everything outside the door. He stayed there the whole night, his back against the cold door, waiting for you to open it. But you refused to let him in, and so he fell asleep on the floor.

He was awakened by Cole in the early hours of the morning, and since he did not hear an answer when he knocked on the door, he forced it open, searching for you. But you were nowhere to be found.

He called your name, but you did not answer. He just heard some muffled sobs in the toilet, the door was locked. “Y/N? Y/N please, let me in.”

You just muttered a small “Please, leave me alone”. Aemond’s gaze fell to the floor for a few moments, and he was ready to leave you again, you just needed time to think. You would come to your senses again, and you would listen to what he had to say. Everything would be back to normal.

Just when he was ready to leave with Cole, he heard the sound of metal hitting the ground, so he forced the door, worried about you. What he saw made his breath hitch.

You were on your knees on the floor, crying, your hands and the white gown you wore to sleep was covered in blood. Your blood. Your gaze found his, and you managed to yell. “I said leave me alone!”

Aemond fell to your side immediately, ordering Cole to fetch a maester. He began examining you, trying to find the source of the blood, but you were not harmed. He lifted your gown and saw your legs damped with blood as well. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/N…”

“Almost three moons in” you cut him. “The maester said it would be a safe pregnancy, if I followed his instructions. Avoid stressful situations.”

Aemond’s heart dropped listening to your words. He could not say a word for a while, he just kept looking at you. “I-I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Sorry does not change anything” your voice was harsh, your eyes felt like daggers on him. “You chose her over me. You chose her over our marriage, our baby, and now our child is gone. Is gone because of you. You killed it.”

He felt everything around him stop, it was like you took his heart and squeezed hard with your cruel words. But he deserved it. He deserved all your anger, and more.

“Go back to her. She needs you, Aemond, I’m sure she does. The baby she carries needs his father, do not do the same you did to me” you swallowed, watching his reaction.

“Y/N, I told you, we ended everything. She was at supper with me last evening because as you well said, she is part of the Council. She is valuable” he was trying so hard to make you believe his words.

You laughed bitterly. “Do you think I’m stupid, Aemond? I know what you do every night, when I pretend to sleep. I know you go back to her. Every fucking night. You reek of her, Aemond” you sneered at him, letting him see how much you hated him now. “I know for sure she is expecting a child, your child.”

Tears began to spill from your eyes again, but you did not let them fall. You did not wish for him to see you that vulnerable again.

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

After the maester had arrived, he instructed Aemond to leave the chambers. Your words and the way you looked at him with hate, no not hate, repulsion, were still engraved in his mind. As he left the room he heard your sobs, it was a sound that broke his heart. How could he hurt you, his beloved wife? He was responsible for your heartbreak and the loss of your child.

That day he decided he would try once again to have your trust and love back. He sent a maester to Alys’ chambers to give her moon tea. Then, a guard would escort her outside the Keep, a carriage would be waiting for her to return to her home.

He let that affair and bargain destroy his marriage, but he would do anything to amend it.

He went to your shared chambers, it was a cold night, the wind howled outside the Keep and only his footsteps were heard in the corridors. He opened the door, the wind was so strong it threatened to close it, but Aemond was stronger and managed to open it. He expected to see you lying on your bed, resting after the maester gave you some milk of the poppy, but he did not see you there.

Aemond looked around the dark room and found you in your white gown. His heart began to pound fast in his chest, his hands began to shake as he caught sight of you, your feet perched on the window still looking down.

His steps were silent, calculated, trying not to scare you. But you already knew he was there, you heard the door being opened and you knew it was him. You did not look back at him, not even when he was begging you not to do anything insane. He came closer, carefully offering you his hand.

“Y/N please,” his voice gentle yet tinged with desperation. “Step back, please, just take my hand”.

At the sound of his voice, you slowly turned around, facing him with empty eyes. His eyebrows drew together in deep concern, his lips slightly parted. He let out a small sigh of relief as you placed your hand on his palm, but before he could grab it, you gave him what could only be described as a sad smile and slipped through his fingers, letting yourself fall.

Your funeral was held a few days later, Aemond gave Vhagar the command to set your corpse on fire. As Vhagar saw the tears in her rider’s eyes, she let out a loud roar, full of sorrow. Aemond stared at the flames, incapable of moving as his cheeks were wet with warm tears.

As he turned to leave, however, he felt a certain uneasiness. He began looking around the field, and he swore he saw your figure standing behind a tree, watching him. He blinked rapidly, but you disappeared.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

That night after the funeral, Aemond cried silently as he clung to one of your dresses. It still had your smell, it was as if you were right there with him. In the dimly lit room, shadows danced like spectres, casting an otherworldly ambiance.

It was right there, through tear-blurred vision, that he saw you. Your ghostly figure stood next to the window, looking through it, an apparition bathed in a haunting glow. You were sobbing. Aemond's breath caught in his throat, the ache in his chest growing immeasurably.

“Y/N?” he asked with a trembling voice, standing up slowly to approach you. Your sobbing never ceased as you turned to see him. Your eyes were glinted with a seething anger, the tears you shed were like salt in his wounds, a reminder of the pain he had inflicted upon you.

Just before he could get closer to you, you climbed to the window sill. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he realised what you intended. He lunged forward, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop you, but it was too late. You jumped, slipping through his fingers once again.

Aemond could not sleep well. After that, he began seeing you and feeling you everywhere. During his training, when he could not concentrate and fell on his back missing Cole’s attacks, he saw your figure staring at him from the roof. During his visits to the library, in the solemn silence, he could hear your sobs. During supper, he could feel your hand linger over his shoulder, just like the way you used to do.

He would see your reflection in the mirror, looking at him with pure anger, your face contorted with rage.

Every night, the same thing would happen. He would see you standing next to the window, sobbing, turning to glare at him just to jump afterwards. He had to witness your death over and over again, slipping through his fingers. It was driving him insane.

He was sleep deprived. He requested the maesters to give him something so that he could find sleep. However, your late visits never ceased. You continued haunting him, he did not know what else to do to stop this.

One night, there was a storm raging outside, loud thunders and lightning streaking across the sky illuminated the room. Aemond drank the tea the maester had given him earlier, trying to get some rest.

Your sobs interrupted his peaceful sleep. He rubbed his eyes and saw you standing there, looking at him with a mix of rage and sorrow. Before you could repeat the actions from previous nights and climb through the window, he dashed across the room and fell to his knees.

“Y/N, I beg you!” he pleaded through a strangled cry, his hands clutching his chest. You turned your body to him, watching as he cried before you, his other hand covering his face. “I am miserable without you, my love. I am so sorry for the pain and suffering I caused you!”

Your sobs came to a halt, listening to his desperate laments and pleadings. You approached him without saying a word and he lifted his head to look at you.

“I am living in torment, I am in agony, Y/N. I know I hurt you deeply, I know I deserve all of this” he moved his hands, gesturing at the room. “I’ll carry the guilt of what happened to you and our child with me, always.” His voice was full of remorse, his hands shaking terribly as he spoke.

He swallowed and closed his eyes, feeling the weight on his shoulder starting to vanish. He could not apologise to you when you were alive, the guilt ate him. But now he had the opportunity to do so, even if it was too late.

Your hardened expression softened at his words, feeling your heart clenching at the sight of him like this.

“Aemond.” Your voice came out as a haunting whisper, as if the wind carried it, and it reached his ears, sending shivers through his spine. “I cannot leave this place. I am a prisoner here.” You explained as you extended a hand to caress his cheek. Your touch was cold against his skin, but he closed his eyes and leaned into it.

“You caused me great pain, husband. This is why I haunt you every day and night.”

Aemond’s eyes opened and he rose to his feet. He took your pale cold hands in his and looked into your eyes. “I beg you to forgive me, Y/N. I cannot undo the past, I wish I could. But I need you to do that. You need to be free as well, I do not wish you to continue suffering.”

Your brows furrowed and your eyes became watery. “I loved you, Aemond. I loved you til my very last day.”

“I still love you, Y/N. And I apologise for everything. You were too good for me.” A tear ran down his cheek, a bittersweet smile graced his features as the memories of your happy marriage filled his mind. Fragments of your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes would shine with love as you looked at him. Fragments of your life together before his mistakes.

Your foreheads touched. “I loved you, Aemond. But I cannot forgive you” you whispered and he gulped. He could feel your breath fanning his face, your lips were so close to touching.

Aemond did not know if it would be wise to kiss you, but he missed you so much and longed for your touch, your lips, his body and heart ached.

Your hands were carefully placed around his neck, and you chose to close the distance giving him a sweet kiss from your cold clay lips.

The next day after the ferocious storm, Aemond's lifeless form lay on the ground, next to the window. He was found by Cole and Otto, who walked into his chambers after not hearing word from the Prince all morning.

They gathered around him. His eye was closed, his slightly parted lips holding the faintest trace of a serene smile. His death was sudden, and it was said he died from the pain of losing his wife and child. It could have not been an attack, there were no signs of it, no signs from any wound in his body.

There were no signs of violence, other than the strange marks of slender fingers, like ghostly imprints around his neck.

taglist: @moonlightfoxx

[kissami]

YOU’RE THE GOOD AND I’M THE BAD

part two

SUM: you always had a tough relationship with your family, favoritism was a big thing and we all know you were the last pick in the cherry field. Katsuki though…you were his favorite thing. Katsuki then has a moment of weakness crack through his strong exterior.

WARNINGS: family issues, thoughts of self doubt, cute katsuki, then shifts to depressed katsuki QUICCCKKK!

femreader! with she/her pronouns!

author’s note at the end of this :3

series masterlist

"I DONT THINK I've ever seen anything like this before.

Keeping her eyes still on the cereal box, Y/N ignored the way her parents were gawking at the flowers that stood all dried up and old in a water bottle near the windows of the kitchen.

"They seem pretty dead to me." She chewed her food throughly, swallowing down slowly as her parents ignored her, keeping their attention on her sister.

"How is it possible for a dead flower to create a new one in a plastic bottle...last night when I brought it out I didn't see anything strange with it but as soon as I was going to throw it out, I noticed the new stems."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance when her sister spoke.

Her sister annoyed her to the core no matter what she did. Maybe it was because she grew up with her older sister getting everything handed to her or maybe just the way she spoke sort of ticked her off. Like an annoying bug you can’t get rid of because you can’t find it so it’s endless buzzing continues in your space, almost in a mocking way.

"It's like new beginnings can happen anywhere, you know? This little rose was so close to dying, but this little new flower will continue its legacy."

"Oh my gosh, how much more cliche can you get? It's a fucking flower, it's natural for it to grow. Stop getting into your little dramatic theories all the time with stuff like this."

Y/N spat, placing her spoon down as she watched the way her sister bit back her remark, because deep down she knew exactly how her parents would react.

Her mother gasped, obviously shocked that her quiet child would speak like that to her poor sweet daughter who said something so beautiful.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

The younger girl held back the urge to roll her eyes as she got up and walked back upstairs to her room.

Y/N was a smart and gentle girl, but the people she lived with made it impossible for her to be truly happy.

She was used to it at this point. She would get lectured over every little thing wether it be wrong or right. Hiding away in her room was what made her feel less insane but they still had something to say about that.

"You never talk with us anymore. You're shutting us out so much, do you not love us anymore? Am I a bad mother to you?"

Every time her mother said that, it resulted in her getting yelled at by her drunk father to stop being such a burden and a bitch to her mother while her sister was busy else where.

When can I finally be happy?

Flopping onto her bed, she snuggled deeper into her sheets as a few tears went down her plump cheeks.

This poor 17 year old girl was truly going through it. Her father was rarely home but when he was, he would always remind her how miserable their lives became ever since she was born.

They were always low on money and could barely afford some things, but while her sister was busy buying things for her own benefit, Y/N was busy trying to meet ends meet, yet she was still the burden of the family.

It wasn't fair how easily her sister gotten their love. They sacrificed so much money just for her sister to throw away the things they've gotten her the next day.

She just wanted to feel like she was appreciated or cared for. Wasn't it her parents' job to support her? Her father's job to protect her from any harm but here he is, hurting her the most before any man ever did.

Didn't her mother have to give her advice on her future and given compassion that she will make it far in life instead of being shamed for being a bit (bigger/smaller) than everyone else around her and that no man would ever love her?

And her sister, wasn't her sister supposed to be her best friend who would be there no matter what? But here she is, getting backstabbed by her own flesh and blood.

Y/N was getting so exhausted. Her life was barely starting, and she was already considering leaving so soon.

Am I too...much of a burden to be loved, even by my own family?

Y/N flinched from a rough knock on her window, making her sit up and fix herself up as she saw who it was.

"Katsuki what the hell are you doing here? If my parents find out you're here..."

"Babe, shut up and let me kiss you."

❁ ❁ ❁

Katsuki groaned as he felt something slam into his stomach which resulted in him staggering back.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry, Mr! Oh wait, mama look!!! It's Mr. Dynamight!"

Katsuki looked down and sighed a bit as he saw a young girl in her tweens looking up at him in awe.

"Can I get your autograph,sir?"

"Kassie what did I say about being disrespectful. I'm so sorry, Dynamight."

He shook his head at the mother and signed the girl's journal.

He felt his heart stop as he saw it was one of (Y/N)’s books, her signature being right next to where the girl wanted katsuki to write.

Katsuki blocked out the people’s voices completely as he felt his chest rise up and down, a single tear leaving his eye which he quickly wiped away.

"Here kid." He passed the beautiful book that he had millions of, hidden away in his office, back to the little girl and quickly fled the scene.

As he walked back to his agency, he continued to feel the heavy ache in his heart.

No matter how much time had passed and the years flew by since the incident, he still heavily mourned for his first love every single time someone mentioned her.

It was stupid he thought. She was famous, he was famous, people asking him about her was bound to happen, or situations like this where he catches a glimpse of her book that wasn’t one that he owned, having to relive that she was taken so soon. She had so much to live for, her story just began.

He found it unfair how she could finish so many incredible stories yet never could finish her own.

He felt so selfish right now. He still couldn't move forward even if he had someone important in his life now and even a child of his own.

He will and always will be hers.

author’s note: well well well…hi. LOL. Sorry I haven’t updated this series in almost a year!! Holy fuck. I’m really sorry you guys, I lost inspo and just felt so lazy to edit this, but she’s here! I swear on my skittles I will get my shit together and update this series. I never realized so many ppl remembered it from my wattpad days?? That’s insane?? Thank you my pookies,I’ll try to update every week but really it just depends on how I’m feeling :3 anyways, enjoy amor mío!

[annoyinglandmagazine]

First Time Reading Girl Genius Novels!

Airship City just arrived!!!! So just to clarify, I have read and am entirely up to date on the webcomic so don’t worry about spoiling anything! I’m also only really reacting to things that stick out to me while I’m reading the novels specifically, I already know the story. So without further ado let’s get into it:

Heterodyne Boys content! Hell yes!

Bill silently cleaning his weapons while Barry worries about him is so wholesome and sad at the same time. It is a tragedy that we never really get to see much of this sibling dynamic because it seems really sweet.

The thumbs up signal too, just a little snapshot of how they were before all this.

Damn the Other is terrifying, just picking all the main players off one by one until no one’s even being accused anymore because it’s so clearly something on another level.

‘It was the most Bill had spoken this week.’ This is just too depressing

It’s kind of weird to be reminded that the Heterodynes did actually win against the Other; the end to their story is just so far from triumphant it feels like a loss.

Actual descriptions of the way the locket and the Spark impacts Agatha’s mind!

The atmosphere of Beetleburg is really fleshed out which is nice.

‘Jägermonsters found everything amusing. Except when people tried to beg for mercy. That they found downright hilarious.’ Ha!

The implications that ordinary household appliances have kill modes installed that are only activated in the presence of a strong Mechanicsburg accent should surprise me more than it does

There is so much irony in Agatha hiding the fact she reads Heterodyne Boy novels from her adoptive parents Punch and Judy.

‘If a mad scientist wasn’t at war with at least two of his neighbours it was because he had his back to the sea and even then he had to watch out for an invasion of intelligent sea urchins.’ Europa really is just Like That

The fact the Heterodynes represented hope to the average people because they actually tried gives me so many emotions

Moloch’s narration is a lot more sympathetic than he comes across in the comic at the start.

The general populace automatically getting worried at Sparky tones even with no context is a nice touch

Jägers and their terrible pick up lines make a first appearance

Beetle was really very sweet to Agatha and meant well which I tend to forget because of the whole Hive Engine first impression

‘Glassvitch’s specialty was chemical engineering which minimised his experience with hysterically sobbing young ladies.’

Something, something, “science is better than emotions or people” is both extremely autistic and a very common take in Girl Genius which I love.

Klaus’ backstory is once again so depressing.

Also the fact no one took him seriously because he was an adventurer who let Bill and Barry take the spotlight and then he just came back out of nowhere, challenged anyone to try and take him on and ended up taking over a significant part of the continent, is kind of badass.

Oh Agatha, assassination attempts since he was revealed are nothing in the wide array of shit going on to make Gil the way he is; that is so far from the problem that to call it the tip of the iceberg would be assigning it too much importance

Boris being known and feared almost as much as the Baron, hell yes, that long suffering man deserves respect for his efforts.

‘He clutched the fishbowl to his chest protectively’ Gil, I love you

Klaus swinging an arm around Gil’s shoulder and patting it while smiling and calling him his son non critically might be the most affection we’ve ever seen him express.

Why do I feel like this is peak healthiness for their relationship, the bar is in the fucking basement

Klaus and Gil ‘eyed each other, as if each were embarrassed at the thought of speaking first. Finally the Baron cleared his throat and said, “Yes, Gil, what do you think of that?”

The description makes that already hilarious interaction so much better. Their whole role in this confrontation reads as second hand embarrassment at the poor planning of their enemies and awkwardness at being remotely associated with this disaster of an coup

‘Klaus looked disgusted’ yep that’s definitely it.

The Wulfenbach Empire understanding that most Sparks really only want praise, a space to work, something to challenge them and someone to make sure they eat is hilarious.

Worldbuilding in the form of universe specific bigotry is my jam. The way constructs get portrayed as comic relief in pop culture due to a culture of discrimination is ingenious. I also appreciate the touch that Klaus has strong and public opinions on this though I suppose it’s not that surprising considering he himself is one in some sense.

I think Lilith teaching music and dance is a new detail and it’s nice to flesh their lives out more, it fits what little we know about her really well.

They are such good parents and this is just adorable

That’s all for now, I’ll pick it up again later!

[animehideout]

Hiiiii !!!

Do you think you could do a part 2 of the insecure reader with suguru and any other character u feel like writing for ???

Maybe something w a reader who had a past w s3lf h4rm?? If this makes u uncomfortable I totally understand and u don’t have to write it!!

Tysm have a nice day/night :)

Insecure Reader X Geto Suguru Finding Out

check out part 1 here

a/n: Thank you Anon for your request ♡⁠˖. This one turned out a bit long, kinda like a oneshot so I didn't include other characters, but there will be a part 3, since someone requested Choso/ Megumi / Sukuna. I'll be posting them soon.

P.S: For anyone who didn't see their requests posted, it's because I'm still working on them <3

TW: Mention of Self-harm, Depression, Negative body image.

Despite multiple pleas from family and close friends to open up, find happiness, and lead a better life without hiding, they still don't know that stepping out of your comfort zone means exposing the harm you've inflicted on your body as a way to punish yourself for simply being you.

But love works in mysterious ways, and has a way of transforming people, and now, every day, you find yourself making an effort for Geto Suguru—the man who turned your world upside down and indirectly encouraged you to embrace your true self. The happiest day of your life was when he asked you out on a date, making you feel worthy of love and care.

He always treated you with sweetness, but a sense of guilt lingered for hiding a big part of your life from him. Maybe it's because you chose to bury your past and start fresh, or maybe because of your insecurities, that prevented you from being authentic in front of him.

Tonight marked a special occasion as he would meet your family for the first time, anticipating a familial yet fancy dinner. He thought it'd be a great idea if both of you matched in color—black. So, he took you shopping to get a suit for himself and find the perfect dress for you.

The moment you'd been avoiding arrived, and you found yourself in a revealing short black dress he had chosen. Standing in front of the mirror in the changing cabinet, your eyes scanned your body, fixated on each scar from your past. Vulnerable emotions surged, and you gulped back the urge to cry.

"He'll hate me.." you whispered to yourself.

Not only would he be shocked by your appearance, but your family as well. At least, that's what you thought, as no one knew about your self-harm. It was a tough decision to make—whether to put back your clothes and continue concealing yourself from him or to walk out in that dress, letting everything unfold. You were prepared to accept whatever he would say, whether he chose to break up with you or accept you.

You clenched your fists, scared of his reaction, but you knew it was time to reveal the truth. The truth always surfaces, and if he doesn't see your scars today, he'll discover them eventually,when both of you have your first time. Pushing yourself out of the changing cabinet, you took a deep breath. The air hitched in your throat as your laid eyes on your boyfriend, who was already in the company of a stunning woman with a perfect figure and smooth skin,.. hugging him. The timing couldn't have been worse, especially as you were already having an internal breakdown and crisis from how the dress exposed one of your deep secrets.

Standing still, the weight of the moment hit you— not only would he see you like this, but also the woman who was hugging him. It felt like someone had struck a sensitive nerve in your mind, shifting elsewhere full of negativity. Trust issues resurfaced, fueling self-hatred within you, expecting both of them to judge you or maybe laugh at you..and Geto ditching you for her.

"Oh baby, you're here...Mei Mei this is my partner Y/n, Y/n this is my colleague Mei Mei" he started when he saw you.

You forced a smile to not come out as rude or jealous. Blinking away your tears, your trembling hands awkwardly trying to hide your scars, forcefully tugging on your dress. You noticed the way Mei Mei scanned you head to toe, your mind telling you that she's judging even though she wasn't.

"See ya Mei Mei, say Hi to your brother" said Geto waving her a goodbye,

And then approached you with a smile that quickly dropped. " b-baby?!" he started his heart pounding when his eyes fell in your scars "w-who did this to you?" he asked.

His question felt like a poisoned arrow that was aimed at your chest .You looked down, mind racing with unwelcomed ideas "maybe it's the end, I've never deserved him anyway" you thought to yourself.

"baby answer me!" he asked again and reached to hold your hand but you flinched away

" I -I did" you confessed,

and ran to the changing room to quickly strip out of the dress before Geto gets to catch you. But it was too late, you didn't even get to lock the door when he got inside joining you and locked the door behind him, traping both of you inside the cabinet. You expected him to yell at you,to voice his frustration and anger but you were left speechless when he pulled you into a his chest, engulfing you in his big arms, whispering,

"I'm sorry"

"why?" your voice cracked, thinking that it might be his way to break up with you but nicely.

"Because I wasn't there for you" he muttered into your hair.

"It was years ago Suguru..."

he pulled back, his thumbs wiping your tears away, looking at you with admiration yet with a broken heart.

"why baby why? tell me everything"

Both of you sat on the cold floor, his arms still around your shaking form.

"It was the only way to cope with my reality– b-because I've never liked the way I am. Everyone around me was trying to compliment me, but I've always taken it as a pity not a truth. My mind just couldn't accept it, so hurting myself was the only refuge to make me feel alive, to punish myself–",

you couldn't even finish the sentence, it was too overwhelming for you, to open a wound that you've been miserably attempting to heal.

"And you thought I'd leave you? You thought I wouldn't accept you?...Look at me my love, You're too precious to deal with all of this. You are important and worth fighting for. I'll fight the whole world if it means getting to be by your side forever. I'm here to protect you and what we have between us is a safe place for both of us. Dont harm yourself anymore, I won't let you do it again... Together we will find a healthier way to deal with your unhealed side. A way far away from harming yourself, okay?".

"What about these Suguru? what's gonna heal them?"

"You're beautiful the way you are! Even though it was a wrong way to cope with what you've been through, but still they're a reminder that you're strong for fighting and surviving till this day. I promise I'll plant a kiss on each scar everyday"

"What about my family...they don't know and I'm sca–"

"You'll wear this dress tonight, and no one has the right to judge you, be who you are, raise your head up and be proud of being you. And by the way, the dress is hugging your body perfectly.. damn you're turning me on–Yes just like that baby... Smile. Oh how I love that sweet smile of yours" He giggled leaning in for a kiss.

"Now roll that dress up a bit" he added

"But Suguru we're in public what if we get caught"

"Didn't I tell you that I love the thrill, but I promise I'll be quick, love. I just want to make sure that you know how beautiful and attractive you are both inside and out...let me treat you well.."

💌✨ Dear readers, remember you are beautiful inside and out, you are worth it and you are deserving of all the love and happiness. I want you to know that you're not alone. I know that overcoming the daily struggles, the negative feelings, the insecurities and self-harm is a challenging journey. Healing takes time but each step you take towards recovering is a great Triumph, so be proud of who you are. Remember that it's okay to ask for help your past doesn't define you and the journey towards self-love is worth every effort. I love you all ✨💌