#not really angsty. just put on the angst thing because of the beginning. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andvys · 8 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 5

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of cheating, heartbreak, lots of angst

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Everything comes crashing down on you and Steve.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: @wroteclassicaly thank you for the angsty suggestion, I put it to good use hehe

series masterlist

You have been through so much pain in the past couple of weeks, heartbreak and sadness. Sadness that you have turned into anger because you would rather deal with that than with anything else that heartbreaks brings you. It was easy to pretend not to care about him any longer when you have settled for the anger that he brought to you.

You finally put those rose colored glasses down and saw him for who he really was all along. He was by no means a good boyfriend or a good guy for that matter, he hurt you and then he did the worst thing that he could ever do to you – he cheated on you. That was one thing that you have been so deeply afraid of. That was the only thing you had asked him not to do but he did it anyway. He kissed another girl, he would’ve done much more if she let him, you know it, you know him. And in the end he left you for her.

He made you feel like your whole relationship was a lie, that the love he felt for you was never real. That you never mattered to him.

Weeks of self doubt, questions and what if’s haunted you. Crying yourself to sleep or drowning yourself in things that aren’t good for you have become your reality in the past few weeks. You were suffering but you wouldn’t let anyone see. You’ve put on an armor and found out that you should’ve done that a long time ago, it protected you from him and the things he still made you feel.

You found peace in knowing that this was over, that no matter how much you love him, you could still let him go.

You let him go.

The walls have moved up higher and higher around you, despite the pain deep in your bones, you have started to feel stronger again. It took you weeks to get there. And it only took him a minute to strip you of the armor, to destroy the walls that you have struggled to build up. He took away all your power, all your strength with just a simple touch.

The moment you feel his lips on yours, you push him away before it can fully turn into a kiss. A cold wave washes over you, your heart begins to pound faster than it did before. You feel so many things at once, shock, confusion, longing, sadness and anger.

“What the hell, Steve?”

He blinks and the softness in his eyes begins to fade away. His lips part and he frowns a little as he stares down at you. He takes in the angry look on your face – the tears in your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Get off of me!”

Realization rushes through him, a shiver runs down his spine and the feeling of guilt and regret starts to take over. He moves away instantly. He sits back on your bed and runs his hand through his hair, not looking away from you. You scoot away from him and get off the bed, tucking your hair behind your ears, you cup your cheeks as you begin to pace around your room.

“S-Shit, y/n. I’m sorry.” What exactly is he sorry for? For wanting to kiss you? For feeling like it was the right thing to do?

“Y-You’re sorry?” You laugh, turning your back to him, you stare at the ground in disbelief.

He is sorry, he is sorry for trying to kiss you the way he kissed her when he was still yours.

You try to fight the tears but you can’t, right now, there is no fight left in you.

Steve stares at you. His heart is pounding in his chest, dread begins to take over. Why did he do that? He gets up and walks towards you, he hesitates when he hears your quiet sniffle. He places his hand on your shoulder, instantly regretting it when you flinch at his touch. You turn around to face him. Your glassy eyes meet his, his breath gets caught in his throat.

The last time he saw you like this was the morning after the Halloween party. Back then, his own feelings confused him, he didn’t know what he was feeling when he broke your heart. Now he realizes that what he was feeling, what he is feeling right now is sadness.

“D-Don’t touch me, Steve!”

Your words are out of anger but your voice is shaky and filled with sadness.

“I-I’m sorry, y/n. I-I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“Why did you do that?” You ask. You step towards him. “W-Why did you try to kiss me?”

He blinks and stares at you for the longest time. The room is silent, the energy is heavy.

“It felt right,” he says without thinking.

A laugh of disbelief falls from your lips, you shake your head.

“Just how it felt right to kiss her when you were still with me?” You finally ask.

He furrows his brows, his eyes flash with confusion. Shaking his head, he steps closer to you, “w-what?” He asks.

If you weren’t so agitated right now, you would see the genuine confused look on his face.

“Nancy!” You say. “You kissed Nancy a-and don’t even try to deny it, Steve! Billy told me that he saw you kissing her in your car!”

Steve feels a little defeated when he realizes what you are talking about. He doesn’t even blame you for believing Billy. Steve had met up with Nancy at Benny’s Burgers to work on the group project, when they went back into his car later that night, she kissed him – he didn’t kiss her back, in fact, he was frozen in place when he felt her foreign lips moving against his. Steve had pushed her away when he realized what was happening. Billy must’ve seen them at a bad moment and of course he had to tell you.

He closes his eyes for a moment, he pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows that whatever he will say won’t get you to calm down. You won’t believe him and he doesn’t blame you.

“I didn’t kiss her, y/n. I swear to god, I didn’t.”

This whole thing – this conversation is ridiculous, how he is standing in front of you, trying to make you believe that he didn’t kiss his girlfriend.

“She kissed me, I pushed her away – I would’ve never done this to you.”

“You – what?!” You scoff, shaking your head, “you would’ve never done this to me?” You ask and point to yourself, a look of disbelief crosses your face as you stare at him. He broke your heart, he told you he never loved you, he fell in love with her while he was still with you, he dumped you and now he is claiming that he would have never done this to you?

You never wanted this to happen, you never wanted to show him how hurt you still are, you never wanted him to know that he still has so much power over you, you never wanted him to see how much you still love him.

The anger and the heartbreak takes over you and you lose the control that you have had all these weeks.

Why did he have to do this to you?

“Y-You left me, Steve! You left me for her! You fell in love with her while you were with me a-and now you wanna tell me that you wouldn’t have done this to me? Y-You did so much worse, Steve!”

Steve feels his heart dropping to his stomach. The tears that roll down your cheeks, the heartbroken look on your face and the pain in your voice makes him feel like he has finally crashed back into reality. These past few weeks have been a blur, it felt like he was in a constant state of haziness, like he wasn’t himself, like he wasn’t there.

But now he is here and the realization of what he has done to you finally comes rushing in.

“You said you never loved me, o-our whole relationship was a fucking lie a-and I knew it! I always knew it, you treated me like shit! You stood me up, you talked to other girls, y-you could be so fucking mean to me and I still stayed b-because I loved you – I loved you so much, Steve.” Your voice cracks and you have to take a deep breath. You don’t even see him clearly, your eyes are blurred with tears. “I-I hoped you loved me too because you were still with me, despite everything b-but then she came along a-and then everything got so much worse and I realized, you were never actually with me. You put a label on us but you never took it seriously. You took everything from me but you never gave me anything in return! I was yours but you were never mine.”

Steve’s face becomes etched with sadness. He can’t remember what it feels like to have tears welling up in his eyes but he gets reminded again when he feels them, when his vision blurs the longer he stares at you and realizes how much pain he had caused you – how much he regrets hurting you.

Your eyes are filled with betrayal and heartbreak. After all this time, you are still hurting, maybe even more so than you did when he left you. He remembers the shock on your face when he told you that he is not in love with you anymore or when he told you that he was never in love with you in the first place. What a lie. He always loved you, he never stopped loving you.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Is all he manages to say. He doesn’t recognize his own voice, it’s shaky and filled with grief.

“Y-You’re sorry?” You whisper as you tilt your head. A single tear rolls down his cheek, the sadness in his features makes you angry.

He takes a step towards you, close enough to reach out to touch you but you slap his hands away, “don’t touch me, Steve!” You snap at him as you place your hands on his chest and push him away from you.

“Y/n, please – I-I lied to you, I loved you, I love you!”

For some reason, your heart breaks even more at his words. You stare at him, hoping to find the lies in his eyes but the worst part is, you can’t. You can’t find it – he is telling the truth and somehow that makes it all worse. He loved you, he loves you and that wasn’t enough. The one thing that matters the most in a relationship wasn’t enough for him. His heart chose you but he didn’t want you.

You raise your shaky hand up to your face and wipe the fallen tears but the moment a sob breaks free, you begin to cry harder. Your chest aches more than it ever did.

This is all you wanted, for him to love you but now you wish he never did. To know that someone loved you and still chose to break your heart and leave you for someone else hurts more than to find out that you were never loved in the first place, at least that would have made sense.

Steve watches you, his bottom lip is quivering, his heart is beating wildly in his chest, tears roll down his cheeks. He regrets it all. He wants to pull you into his arms and comfort you but how can he do that when he was the one who put you into this place of pain and suffering?

It feels like he has just woken up only to find himself in a nightmare. What has he done? He did the worst thing that he could do to you. Your quiet sobs break his heart. He did this to you.

“I hate you,” you whisper through the tears, “I hate you so much. I hate that I love you.”

He feels like the worst person alive. He feels miserable.

“Y/n–”

You keep wiping your tears away, as though it will help. You shake your head. Your eyes meet his glassy ones.

“Why are you crying?” You ask, angrily.

His shoulders slump as he takes a step towards you, “p-please forgive me, I never wanted to hurt you–”

“Fuck you!” You cry, “that’s bullshit, Steve! Everything you do, everything you say is bullshit! Y-You’re bullshit!” You place your hands back on his chest and try to shove him out of your room and he lets you, he doesn’t fight back.

Your words cut him deeply. His throat thickens and feels like he is about to break down in front of you.

He whispers your name when you stop pushing him. He takes hold of your wrists and for a moment, you let him.

His hazel eyes are filled with pain, regret and sadness. He is crying and even through the hazy anger, you realize that you have never seen him cry before, not in all those years you have known him. It hurts to see him like that – after all, you still love him.

“I regret you, Steve,” you whisper, not looking away from his eyes, “I regret you all the time.”

“What?”

“If I could turn back time, I would’ve never fallen in love with you, I would’ve never given you my heart, I would’ve never slept with you.”

He shakes his head, more tears brim his eyes.

“I want you to leave me alone – I want you to forget that I exist. You got what you wanted, you got her, the girl you love. Now get out of my life and don’t fucking look back, I want nothing to do with you.”

Your words may come from anger but he will never know how much it hurts you to say them.

“No..”

“You did this. You wanted this, remember? You threw me away, you threw us away.”

He holds your wrists tighter as though it will get you back. He shakes his head, “please..”

“You’ve done enough, asshole. Now get out of my life, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want anything to do with you,” you spit, ignoring the tears that stream down yours and his face. “Just leave, I’m done with you.” You say and finally rip your hands free.

Steve feels like falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness but the damage is done. He ruined everything. He ruined the only real thing in his life. He ripped open your wounds that have just begun to heal.

He looks into your eyes and finally everything begins to make sense. Why he can’t get you out of his head. Why it feels so wrong to be with her. Why he thinks of you when she lies beside him. He is in love with you, he always was, he just didn’t understand it. You have always been there, you have always been the one.

But he broke you, he broke what you two had. He did this. And he only sees it now. There is no apologizing for what he did. There is no making up for it. It’s too late for it all.

There is love in your eyes but there is also something that tells him that it’s all over. You have let go of him a while ago, you draw the line that can’t be crossed anymore. Whatever he will do, won’t be enough to get you back.

It’s over.

You still love him and the look in your eyes tells him that you always will but that doesn’t mean that he will ever get a chance again. You closed the door, you locked it and destroyed the keys. There is no way back for him.

He can see that you are barely holding yourself together, you are shaking, your bottom lip is trembling and the tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The urge to pull you into his arms and comfort you in a way he never has before is so strong but he knows that he will only make things worse if he tries to touch you again.

He lifts his hand towards his face and wipes away the tears that you would have kissed away if things were different. Your heart jumps in your chest when you notice the hair tie around his wrist, it belonged to you.

“I’m sorry, dolly.” He whispers softly, using the nickname he used to call you when you were children. He turns away from you and unlike the last time, it hurts. Because back then, he never truly walked away from you, he left his heart with you, he never took it away, you always had it. He never truly knew how deeply in love with you he was but now he knows, now that he has to walk away from you.

And he doesn’t know how much it hurts you to see him walk away again. Despite the anger inside of you, it hurts you more than it did last time.

You slam your door shut and place your palms against it. You close your eyes and try to take deep breaths. Don’t cry, just stop, stop crying. You don’t listen to the voices in your head, you don’t bother to. You are so sick of it, of crying but you can’t even stop yourself from breaking down again.

You have let go of him, you have come to peace knowing that he never loved you. Why did he have to do this?

You turn off the lights and walk towards your window nook, you sit down and make the mistake of looking down into your driveway. He is still here. Standing by his car and looking down at the ground.

Your heart longs for him.

His heart longs for you.

But everything is too late now.

Steve had never felt heartbreak before, this is the first time and he knows there is no one to blame but himself. He ruined the best thing that he had.

He can’t fight the tears away, he can’t stop himself from crying. Not on the drive home and not when he walks into his house. He drags himself upstairs and the moment he takes a seat on his bed, he breaks down and he hates himself for it, he hates himself for feeling so sad and broken knowing that it was him who did all of this.

He never felt that tight feeling in his chest, the emptiness inside of him that begins to eat at him as he sobs into his hands when he thinks about you, about what he had let go off. What he had ruined. What he had lost.

It’s not just his pain that is making him cry, it’s also the regret and the guilt of hurting you.

When he left you, he kept thinking about the tears in your eyes, the shocked and hurt look on your face when he told you that he never loved you, it made his chest hurt but he distracted himself with other things so he wouldn’t think about it, but now it all hits him. He will never forget the look on your face, the tears of heartbreak and anger. The thought of what he had done to you.

Your words cut deep but he knows he deserved it.

He deserves so much worse.

While you regret him – he regrets her. He regrets everything.

The next day at school both of your seats stay empty.

next chapter

This was a bit of a short chapter but I feel like it was the right moment to wrap it up.

@wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @screammunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

1K notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve.

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband.

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst.

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe.

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening.

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag.

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened.

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.”

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.”

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm.

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.”

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing.

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.”

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his.

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine.

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state.

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek.

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look.

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.”

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy.

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears.

Though, confusion takes president.

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear.

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something?

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed.

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door.

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose.

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?”

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here.

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.”

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor.

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly.

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues.

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth.

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.”

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn.

But he made his bed.

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.”

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance.

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned.

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.”

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily.

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage.

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files.

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs.

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.”

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters.

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright.

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan.

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force.

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger.

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?”

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds.

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…”

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it.

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals.

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had.

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked.

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered.

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work.

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox.

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen.

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood.

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.”

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough.

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex.

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.”

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.”

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks.

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet.

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.”

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm.

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?”

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper.

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete.

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you.

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly.

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you?

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows.

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse.

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven.

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger.

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face.

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up?

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change.

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all.

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again.

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring.

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse.

Dead silence.

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—”

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear.

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen.

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass.

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens.

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest.

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.”

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony.

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you.

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.”

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained.

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him.

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed.

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired.

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate.

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot.

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.”

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.”

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.”

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?”

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once.

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.”

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

NEW TAGLIST SIGN-UP: Here

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm

1K notes · View notes

on-my-vigilante-sht · 3 months

Text

Mine

Luke Castellan x Reader

Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?

Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.

My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.

She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.

“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”

“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”

I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.

He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time

Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.

As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”

“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.

I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”

“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.

Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.

“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.

“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”

His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”

Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”

“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.

“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.

His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”

At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.

“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.

“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”

My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.

“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #Spotify

787 notes · View notes

vienssunshine · 5 months

Note

What do you think maki looks for in a girl? :0

pairing: Maki Zenin x Reader author's note: so I was originally gonna do headcannons but then i just wrote about it and it turned a little angsty? cw: manga spoilers, angst

A lot changed when Maki awakened her true strength: her body, her abilities, even the state of the world. In addition to these massive shifts, there was a slight difference, seemingly inconsequential compared to the rest, in her dating preferences. When Itadori had flung himself towards her with a camera—he used to do little interviews of the students at school—and asked her what she looked for in a partner, she had answered that she’d like to be with someone stronger than her. Maki thought it was best to pursue a partner who could protect her, someone who could help destroy the Zenin clan. However, now that she’s one of the strongest humans in Japan, her previous preference has become unrealistic. Which actually is a good thing, because it opened her up to seeing you in a different way.

Maki’s always found you attractive—more than that, really—but ignored it, writing it off as nothing but a distraction. It wasn’t the right time, she had to focus on getting stronger, getting revenge. But now that her whole world is crumbling around her, she’s realized she needs someone like you.

You’ve known pain—she can remember when you recounted your past, crystalline tears shining in the gentle candlelight illuminating her dorm room—and yet you’re still able to put a smile on that pretty face of yours as you go through this life. Maki’s not sure she has the strength to do the same on her own, not after losing everything. But you’re there for her, able to pull her out from drowning in the darkest parts of herself.

You look at her so fondly, even if she hates how her body is now striped with scars. You don’t seem to mind, kissing her skin as if it were as soft and smooth as your own. Your hands cup her face as you tell her how beautiful she is despite her claims of the opposite. Maki was unsure if she’d ever be loved after becoming more monster than human, but as you work tirelessly to prove her wrong—your stubbornness is adorable to her—she’s beginning to change her mind.

#maki zenin x you #jjk maki #maki zenin x reader #zenin maki #maki x you #maki x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin angst #maki zenin fluff

468 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 4 days

Note

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed, biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse.

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

222 notes · View notes

withleeknow · 2 months

Text

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcure @wyzminho

336 notes · View notes

amhrosina · 1 year

Text

Afterglow (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Masterlist // Join My Taglist

a/n: another taylor swift song fic lmfao i just cannot help myself, this one is so angsty i almost felt bad for Matt just writing it (someone pls give that man a hug, he NEEDS one) also i feel so bad about not posting that i didnt even send this one to my beta reader i just posted it and hoped for the best lmfao

Summary: Matt and Reader have an argument that feels like it might be relationship-ending after Matt's hectic lifestyle as Daredevil catches up with him.

warnings: ANGST BRO SO MUCH ANGST, matty really just deserves the world, angry matt at the beginning, soft matt and foggy convo, matt doesn't know how to accept love, super soft matt at the end, some religious imagery i guess, happy ending

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

The door slammed behind Matt in a fitful rage, and he was so pissed off, so intense in his anger that he wanted to turn around and slam it again, just to lash out a second time. It was so unlike him to be this way, so unlike him to allow the festering wound that was his soul show itself so plainly, but it had been a long night, long year, long life and he was fucking tired.

And you. You. You. You. You’d been caught in the crossfire.

“Fuck.” Matt breathed, already regretting the argument that he’d started simply because he hadn’t been able to reel the Devil back in after a long night. The tight leash he held on the part of him that he hated, the part of him that you’d never seen because he’d hidden it so deep inside himself every night, was a ghost in his hands. The line between Matthew the person and Daredevil the vigilante had been blurring for months, but tonight was the first time he’d let it slip through the careful facade he’d been constructing around himself. He was a shattered window, ready to break at the slightest bit of pressure.

The cold sliced into Matt’s skin as he stepped through the doorway at the front of his building, a sobering chill of wind that triggered the memory of your eyes welling with tears. He’d been relentless in his anger, and what for? Because he had a bad night? Because he couldn’t save everyone, and somehow that was your fault?

Asshole is the word you’re looking for, Matthew.

Matt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Foggy’s number before he could talk himself out of it.

“It’s three in the morning, Matt.” Foggy said by way of greeting, voice still heavy with sleep. “You’re not somewhere dying are you?”

“Only metaphorically.” Matt replied, shuffling his feet. He lowered himself to sit on the stairs beneath him, huffing as his body settled against the concrete. The metal of the railing dug into his temple as he rested his head against it, an uncomfortable reminder that the only person to blame for this was himself.

“You okay?” Foggy’s tone had shifted from a sleepy annoyance to somewhat concerned.

Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the love he received from his friends.

“I’m-” He started, but cut himself off when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he okay? No, he didn’t think so.

“You’re kinda freaking me out here, man.”

“I fucked up, Foggy.” He deflated as he admitted it.

“With her?” Foggy pressed.

“With her. With everything.” Matt shrugged, blinking away the tears burning the back of his eyes. Your sudden return to his thoughts felt like whiplash, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “She deserves better than me.”

“Matt,” Foggy chided, and Matt could tell he was shaking his head, “Don’t say that. She loves you.”

“Maybe not anymore.” Matt knew how ridiculous and juvenile he sounded, but the Matthew-Murdock-party-of-one pity party was in full effect, and he was leaning into the sad corner of his being so aggressively he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“She loves you.” Foggy repeated. “I don’t think anything could change that. What happened?”

“I had a bad night and yelled at her. It was stupid and I feel like an ass-”

“An asshole.” Foggy finished, and Matt couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed this observation. “Listen, did you tell her any of this?”

“Not yet.” The longer Matt sat, the more he hated himself for leaving. The words he had shouted echoed in his mind. “She should just leave. I’m never going to be able to give her what she deserves.”

“What about what you deserve, Matt?” Foggy asked, heated in the defense of his very best friend, “You deserve to be loved, too.”

Matt sat with Foggy’s statement for a second, letting the love wash over him for the briefest moment. Is this what it’s like for the kind of people who can easily accept the love of others? His body felt warm and fuzzy, an unfamiliar but comforting sensation that had him rubbing the heel of his hand across his chest.

“I should go apologize and hope to God she’ll take me back.” Matt sighed.

“She will, Matt.” Foggy assured him. “She will.”

Matt returned the phone to his pocket and turned, heading back into the place that held his entire aching heart.

It's so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below

Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens, just crying

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

When Matt reentered the apartment, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d stormed out, but it had felt like hours. You were in the same place that he’d left you - curled up in a sitting position on the sofa - except now your cheeks were coated with salty tears that permeated the air around you. Matt tasted them on his tongue the second he opened the door, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest as he realized just how bad the situation was. You were so deep in thought, cycling through the words Matt had spat at you, that you hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Petal?” Matt called softly, alerting you to his presence in the room. You startled, turning to look in his direction. The silence before you responded was deafening and anxiety inducing, something Matt had never handled well. He wrung his hands together and took a step closer to you. Finally, you spoke.

“You came back.”

Not a question, but not really a statement either. A simple observation that left Matt stumbling over his words.

“I uh…never really left. I was just downstairs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the steps out front. I didn’t go far.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Matt’s lip wobbled as he inhaled sharply and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He listened to your answer anyway. He would listen to any words you had to offer, even if they were words that might kill him.

“You said some terrible things, Matt.” You sniffled, sighing heavily as another wave of tears coated your cheeks. “You said ‘If you can’t handle this, I don’t think we should be together anymore.’ And the funny thing is, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be handling.”

“Petal, I-” Matt began, shaking his head.

“No, Matt.” Your voice had suddenly become very firm and very loud, all at once. Matt flinched. “I’m not finished.” You adjusted your body, leaning your head back against the sofa before continuing. “I don’t know who you are anymore. My Matty would never keep things from me or disappear for days at a time or yell at me. The man I fell in love with is missing, and I don’t know what to do to get him back.”

The hold Matt had on his tears was obliterated as you admitted your feelings to him. Warm tears fell down his face, every droplet an admission of guilt. You were right, of course. Matt hadn’t felt like himself in months, and instead of trying to get a grip on himself, he had been leaning into the suit every night, forcing his mind to focus on other things. He always took on the brunt of the pain in any situation - he’d been doing this his entire life - but he had not realized how much of that pain was being transferred to you every time he forgot himself.

“Baby, I’m- I can’t even say how sorry I am.” Matt sank to his knees in front of you, pleading. “You’re right about everything, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you or come home to you after work like a normal boyfriend would and I’m sorry for the things I said. I never wanted to hurt you the way I did. I will never, ever, deserve your love.” He swallowed a sob as he admitted what he thought was the truest thing he’d ever said out loud. “Foggy told me I deserve love but I’ve thought and thought about it and I can’t imagine a world where your love will ever feel like anything but a gift to me.”

You sighed again, sniffling as you lifted your hand to cradle Matt’s wet cheek.

“I know I’m fucking it up. I’m sorry I can’t be more. This is all I have to offer, and I know it’s selfish to ask you to keep loving me but I can’t be without you. You’re all I have.”

“I don’t understand, Matty.” You shook your head, furrowing your brows.

“You’re the only thing that brings me home. And I don’t mean physically. You’re the only reason I can find my way back to myself. You remind me of the love the world is capable of. Not even Foggy can do that for me the way that you do. Can’t you see that you’re it for me? Without you, I am just a man walking hand in hand with the Devil. There is no point without you.”

“Matty.” You sighed, caressing his cheekbones as tears cascaded down his face.

Matt wasn’t sure what he wanted you to say. That he did deserve love, or maybe that you weren’t going to leave him after tonight was over, or maybe anything besides ‘I don’t love you anymore’.

“Don’t leave me.” He begged, barely above a whisper, so tired of the war raging in his mind. If there was anything he was capable of doing tonight, it was pleading with you for this. Beyond that, he was useless. “Don’t leave.”

“Will you lay with me?” You asked, and Matt nearly collapsed into your hold. It was not what he was expecting, but he would take it. The inevitable self-hatred and doubt about this moment echoed in the back of his mind, but he was ignoring it for once. All he wanted to do was lay with you, so that’s exactly what he did.

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

I need to say

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

Matt was on the verge of tears again, lying next to you in the bed that you had shared with each other for so many nights. He was so afraid of losing this, losing you. He wasn’t entirely sure he would survive if you asked him to leave after this. He wasn’t entirely sure that mindset was healthy, either, but that didn’t stop him from contemplating it. He was here, and you were here, and if he was destined to live in this doubt forever, then at least he would die next to you.

Your tears had long dried up, but the ache deep inside you was palpable and overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. The hand you had led him here with, the one that you still held, the only thing connecting your body to his was his safety blanket. This was what people called a safe space, he thought. For the first time in a long time, Matt began to silently pray.

He prayed for you, and he prayed for himself, and mostly, he prayed for love. He prayed that the night would last forever, so that he could lay next to you for the remainder of his life. He prayed for forgiveness, and begged for yours. He prayed for the strength it would take if you didn’t grant it to him. Because if you asked him to leave, he would. It would hurt and possibly - no, definitely - kill him, but he’d do it, because you deserved that, at least. The possibilities of the night were endless, and that was the scariest thing to Matt. Anything could happen.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, lightly squeezing his hand.

“I’m praying.” He murmured, squeezing your hand back.

“About what?”

“About you.”

“Oh, Matty.”

The smile on your face, the steady thump of your elevated heart rate, felt like a win. Comfortable silence overtook the room, and you were so still for so long that anyone else might’ve thought you had fallen asleep, but Matt knew better. You were thinking, contemplating every word that had been shouted, pleaded, and begged tonight. All the while, Matt prepared himself for the worst.

“The sun’s coming up.” You murmured.

“Yeah?” It was all he could muster. Everything hurt, and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Yeah.” You swept your fingertips over his cheeks, following the path of the sun as it draped itself across both of your bodies.

Matt swallowed, opened his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and then closed it and swallowed again. The gentle caress of your fingers felt like a brand in his skin. Finally, in a thick voice he asked for the second time in a matter of hours, “Do you want me to go?”

“Oh, Matty.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes, and Matt’s heart sank into the ground below him. He thought he could do this, but he couldn’t. He was just supposed to leave what you had built with him? After everything, he was just supposed to count his losses and move on? No fucking way. His breathing had picked up, and he was so focused on his pounding heart that he almost missed the rest of your sentence. “I never wanted you to go. I just wanted you to understand how lonely I’ve been without you. I’m upset with you, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll never be the one asking you to leave.”

Matt stopped breathing for a moment, soaking in the warm relief as it crashed through him. He didn’t have to go, and you loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

You let out a small giggle and pressed your lips to his forehead before responding. “Of course I’m sure, Matty. But it has to change, okay? We can’t do this to each other again.”

Matt could hardly believe the words coming out of your mouth. He would do anything to keep you here, holding him, keeping him safe, loving him. Anything.

“I promise.” He murmured, grabbing at your face to pull it closer to his. “I love you.”

He pressed a million kisses into your face until you let out the melodic laugh that he felt he could get drunk on. He would do anything to hear that sound again, to be the one causing that sound. Anything.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @scoliobean @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21

@thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @dnxgma @evyiione @twsssmlmaa @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @freakinfairykind @blue-03 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt

1K notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 6 months

Text

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : none ; it's just cringe fluff ; Hyunjin and reader are that couple ; Word Count : 1.0k Request : nope! A/N : it was my birthday yesterday and I had to work and y'all, I'm so exhausted. I'm writing this from the future, but I just know I'ma be soooo fucking sleepy!!! I hope everyone is enjoying these and please, know that I am getting to the requests, I just really want to do some cute stuff before I jump back into angst. My life has been angsty enough.

“Send me a picture of your face.” The text came in as Hyunjin walked through the main doors of the airport. Of course, it was from you, so he immediately responded, unable to hide his smile even under the mask that he was wearing.

“Whyyy? You miss me? Hmmm? You miss me so much??? Wanna hug me? Wanna kiss me? Hmmmm????” He teasingly texted back before slipping his phone in his pocket, giggling to himself and earning disgusted looks from the two youngest guys in the group. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Don’t be jealous that I’m in looove.”

“Gross. How long have you been dating? Isn’t the honeymoon phase supposed to wear off already?” Seungmin retorted, his nose scrunched up just to emphasize just how disgusted he was. Jeongin nodded in agreement, although they both didn’t hesitate to fall back just so they could keep up with Hyunjin, although it was mostly so they could continue teasing him.

“The honeymoon phase doesn’t wear off if you’re really in looove.” Hyunjin responded, trying his best not to laugh along with the two youngest. He himself thought it was cringe, as did you, but for some reason, although he didn’t mind it one bit, you both agreed on acting the part of that couple just to see the reactions from the guys. It had been an agreement made at the beginning of your relationship, and now two years in and already engaged, the act had become the real thing and neither of you could shake it.

“I bet you paint her a bunch of pictures and put cheesy little poems along with them. Don’t you?” Jeongin baited, knowing damn well that he did, but the three of them had made it a habit, almost like yours and Hyunjins habit of being the cringiest couple in the universe, to tease each other about these things. “Bet you guys have matching bunny slippers that you wear around the house.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about the bunny slippers, you don’t know about the bunny slippers. They’re comfortable and they grip the floor really well.” Hyunjin said, although with that he couldn’t help but let out the laughter that he was holding in.

“Oh yeah, I bet the bunny slip grips work wonders when you’re chasing each other around having your late night pillow fights.” Seungmin chimed in once more, and now all three of them were laughing loudly, catching the attention of the other members who were walking ahead.

Truthfully, Hyunjin didn’t mind the teasing all that much for the main reason of being able to talk about you, he loved talking about you, you were his life, his soul, you were his everything, and as long as the teasing stayed aimed towards him most of the time, he was fun with it. You made him beyond happy, and if the guys thought that it was a little cringe, or moreso, majorly cringe, he didn’t care because at the end of the day, he still got to say he was with the most amazing girl in the world.

“You gonna send me that picture yet or are you gonna make me wait until the tour is over???” He pulled out his phone to read the text from you when he finally sat down outside the gates at the airport, smiling at his phone screen which had your face as the wallpaper.

Tours were the hardest part of your relationship because you had your own job to be at and you couldn’t just ask for days off, you had to request for them in advance, and Hyunjin wasn’t really the best at telling you about tour dates with much notice. Your relationship was built on trust, a lot of trust, because it was no secret that Hyunjin was by far the most handsome man in the universe-your words, not his-and you knew that a lot of people wanted him. Of course, Hyunjin only had eyes for you, you were the most beautiful girl in the universe, and everyone else-his words, not yours-was a goblin.

“So impatient babe. Hold up, let me take one.” He teased back before opening his camera and snapping a quick selfie which, for anyone else, would be the worst angle, but with Hyunjin there were no bad angles. He quickly sent the picture with a heart as the caption, watching the little text bubbles pop up almost immediately.

“How are you so perfect? How am I so lucky? Why are you going so far away this time? Dammit, I miss you. Come back home soon. I love you.” The text read, and his throat tightened as he felt the sudden urge to cry. His heart panged with a sadness and loneliness that he only felt when he was away from you. The tour hadn’t even officially started yet and he was already going through withdrawal from your kisses, your touch, the heat that emanated off your body when you were both curled up under the blankets at home.

“Send me a selfie a day, I miss you too, you and your beautiful face. I love you so much more… I’ll be back home as soon as I can. We’re boarding now though, I have to turn my phone off. I’ll text you during the layover. I love you babe.” He quickly wrote back before turning his phone onto airplane mode and slipping it back into his pocket, the playful smile that he had been wearing a majority of the time falling ever so slightly.

“You look like you’re gonna cry… You okay, man?” Seungmin asked, coming up from seemingly out of nowhere to stand beside Hyunjin as they walked through the gates. “Is it because you miss her? Oh man… You’re like… Love whipped or something. It’s weird. Good for you though. Shoulda brought the bunny slippers.”

Love whipped… Was it a thing? Hyunjin wasn’t sure, not until now. He had heard of guys being whipped by only one other thing, and while he’d certainly, secretly, fall under that category as well, he loved you for so much more. He loved you for everything that you are, everything that you were, and everything that you will be. You had him wrapped around your finger, his heart was connected to yours. He loved you so much that it felt like he was being torn in two just being away from you. Yes, he was love whipped… But god, did he love the feeling of it.

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life

256 notes · View notes

wonhaz · 3 months

Text

break my heart again - y.jw

pairing : jungwon x fem!reader genre : classmates au, hanahaki au, angst, unrequited love, inspired by laufey's song - let you break my heart again wc : 2.2k warnings : child neglect, sickness, hospitals, blood, major character death, eating synopsis : yang jungwon breaks your heart, but you love him, and you'd let him do it again, and again. because you would rather die than live your life not loving him, and you do just that. a/n : i don't know why all my fic ideas from my bias (jungwon) are all so angsty but here you go ig! i put a lot of effort into the meaning of each flower and their symbolisms in the story so u can even google it if you want the full experience or full meanings. this laufey song makes me want to cry my eyes out but i hope u like the fic!

"one day i will stop falling in love with you."

you loved yang jungwon, but he didn't love you back.

he was the only thing you could think of, but you know well that he doesn't care about you. all of your friends told you to move on, to forget about him. you've tried, you really have, but nothing seems to work.

jungwon was everything any girl could ever want, top of the class, kind, funny, and not to mention, extremely cute. you're pretty sure every girl in school had feelings for him at one point, you were no different. you thought it would just be a happy crush, how did it get this bad?

how did you meet him? simple, he was your classmate, that's it. just your classmate. he knew if your existence, but only because of his role as class president, aside from that he had no reason to interact with you. he never saw how you looked at him with your lovesick gaze as he took down notes, he never saw you in the bleachers watching every single one of his competitions, he never saw you clutching your chest in pain, no matter what you did, he never saw you at all.

but you let him do it. again, and again, and again. as long as you were alive, you would let him break your heart again. all because you love yang jungwon.

your parents were busy, always out on business trips, leaving you all alone at home with no one to talk to. all you did at home was day dream and come up with fake scenarios and alternate universes where you and jungwon were a couple. did that help your current situation? hell no. it made it worse.

you sit at the dining table. alone. your plate with pie and your cup of coffee untouched, you were hungry, but had no appetite to eat. suddenly your favorite foods looked disgusting. you've read about this happening.

it's getting worse.

walking to school, you feel a pang of pain in your chest. quickly running to a hidden alley, you clutch your chest in pain. you feel as if you're about to throw up, trying to cough it out, petals fall out of your mouth instead. you watch as they float down to the floor, looking at them with a bitter smile. picking them up, you stuff them into a pocket in your bag.

arriving at school, you walk into the classroom. there he is. sitting on his friend's table laughing. walking to your seat, you lay your head on your table. listening to him laugh made your day better, but worse at the same time. each laugh he let out increased the growing pain in your chest.

you're grateful your teacher doesn't notice.

that nobody at school notices that you keep going to the bathroom. your friends don't notice either, you don't know whether to feel hurt or happy. hurt that they don't know you're in pain, happy that it will make it easier for you to leave this world since they don't pay attention to you. quickly locking yourself in a stall, you start coughing with no end. daffodil petals leave your lips with red stains. your blood. taking out your phone, you search up the meaning of daffodils. "daffodils symbolize unrequited love, rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life."

eternal life. something you knew you didn't have.

during lunch break, you see jungwon in the halls. he's smiling holding a small bouquet of pink tulips. you look at him with a sad smile, you know it's not for you, it would never be for you. feeling the need to cough again, you run into an empty hallway and pink petals leave your mouth. pink tulips. crazy to think how quickly seeing jungwon could affect you.

finally deciding to see the doctor, you go to the hospital after school. you sit on the cold metal seats in the waiting room, waiting for your name to be called. "shim _______?". quickly standing up, you made your way into the doctors office and greet the doctor. "so what brings you hear young lady?" he asks. "this." you respond, taking the petals out of your bag and spreading them on his desk. you see the doctor's eyes widen and he looks at you. "hanahaki.." you hear him say, "how long have you been coughing up petals?", "about a month." you say and he shakes his head, "this means that you only have a bit of time left, meaning you've had this for months but only started coughing petals until recently. I'm afraid you only have 5 months left.". your heart drops, but it's alright, it was already broken. nodding, you tell him you understand. "do you plan to have the surgery? or is there a chance the one you love will love you back?" the doctor asks with hopeful eyes. you shake your head, "neither." you say, "i don't want the surgery, and the one i love will never love me back.". "______" the doctor says your name softly, "you'll die.". "i know." you say,

"but i'd rather die than live a life not loving him."

you leave the hospital that day knowing you have 5 months left. nothing would heal your broken heart. jungwon could never grow love for you, the only thing growing was the flowers in your lungs. you make your way to your home, if you could even all it one. you didn't even know where your parents currently were, but you do know that "business trips are more important." according to them. laying on your bed, you stare at your ceiling, just a few more months you think, and all this will be over.

you try to make the most of school.

since in a few months you won't have to go, grades are not something for you to worry about anymore. it didn't matter with your current situation. you went to school to see him, and only for that sole reason. sitting with your friends at the cafeteria, you stare at jungwon seated on the opposite side of the room. seeing him smiling makes you smile. seeing him happy makes you happy. one of your friends ask you if you're okay. "are you okay, _____? you haven't touched your food at all.", truthfully, you didn't feel like eating anything these days, but you can't tell them that. "yes, I'm alright, just got a little distracted." and they nod. they continue their conversation and your eyes find your way back to jungwon. he's getting up to leave, you excuse yourself from your friends and follow him out at a distance.

"jungwon! when are you asking your crush out? you've already given her tulips!", you hear one of his friends say. "soon, not sure yet." he responds nudging his friend and laughing. "but i found out she likes roses." jungwon says, almost instantly you feel your chest tighten and you know that you need to make a run for it. you run in the opposite direction to the bathroom and lock the stall door. you start coughing, the pain in your chest becoming unbearable. red rose petals with blood on them.

you always thought roses were beautiful, but with beauty comes pain. the thorns growing in your lungs making your breath hitch. you knew that your time was running out faster than expected.

three months left.

you start writing in a journal, in hopes that someone will find it after you leave. that they'll read about your last months loving jungwon. that they'll read about your tragic love story that never even was a love story in the first place. you write about jungwon and all the things you liked about him, about being left alone at home, and about ever single kind of petal you have coughed up, sticking them to the pages and learning about the meaning of each one. you learned that red roses symbolized love and romance, how ironic. two things that you would never experience. not in this life at least, hopefully in the next.

one month left.

you wanted to talk to jungwon before you left forever. even if it was short and made no sense. you knew he got to school early and you made an effort to get there early too. he sat at his desk studying for the test later, mustering up the courage to walk up to him, you stand at the end of his desk and he looks up and gives you a confused look. "hi _____, do you need something?" he asks. "thank you, jungwon." you say and his eyebrows furrow. "for what?", "for everything." you say with a smile. "you're welcome?" he says still confused. flashing him a small smile, you get your bags and walk out the classroom leaving him alone, his eyes follow you as you walk out. he shrugs and goes back to what he was doing. he doesn't care.

that broke your heart again.

one week left.

you thought you were well prepared for your departure. you wrote a letter to your parents, leaving it on their table. you weren't even sure if they would ever come home and read it, but it didn't matter. their not-so-golden only child would be gone and they wouldn't even know. you wrote a letter to each of your friends, it was easy since you only had a few. you gave it to them at school and made them promise to read them in a week. you wanted to go in peace. you wanted to go alone.

3 days left.

you go to school to gather everything from your locker, touching the cold metal door for the last time. you greet your favorite teachers before you leave, you even buy your favorite drink from the cafeteria, you were going to miss how it tasted. you walk out of the school and turn to look at it. it would be the last time you see the school. the school you dreaded going to, the school where you met yang jungwon. you decided you were going to spend your last few days at home before making your way to where you plan to depart forever.

one day left.

you tidy up your room, straightening up your pillows and bedsheets. you clean your messy desk and leave the journal right in the middle. the journal that contained your thoughts, your fondest memories, the memories of your last months on this earth. making your way to the kitchen, the light the refrigerator emits feels blinding. taking out the last slice of leftover pie, you make yourself a cup of coffee to go with it and sit alone at the table. you didn't feel hungry, not anymore, but you forced yourself to eat your favorite foods one last time. you savor the taste of the coffee, the warmth temporarily soothing the pain in your lungs. you felt sick that night, maybe because you forced yourself to eat, maybe it was because you knew your time was running out. either way, you tried your best to fall asleep.

3 hours left.

you make your way to a field deep in your favorite park. it was off limits but you used to go there alone anyways. laying under a big tree, you stare up at they sky, you'll be up there soon. you feel your eyes start to tear up, you're crying. you don't mean to cry, but it's as if your body knows that your time is about to run out.

1 hour left.

"one day i will stop falling in love with you."

you tried to stop loving yang jungwon. heaven knows how much you tried. jungwon would never love you, but you would never stop loving him. you would love him even if you were dead. you would love him as you watched from above.

"some day, someone will like me like I like you."

is what you thought. that wasn't going to happen anymore, maybe not in this life at least. you were classmates. and you would remain classmates for the rest of his life, and your short one.

10 minutes left.

you look at the green grass and trees surrounding you. the sun was setting, painting the sky a mix of purple, pink and orange. you smile. if only jungwon was beside you enjoying this too.

but he wasn't. but the thought of it made your heart flutter.

your heart. your broken heart.

you loved yang jungwon, but he broke your heart. he has multiple times but he never knew. you would still let him do it again in every life, because that's how much you love him.

you begin to feel sleepy, it's almost as if your life is being drained out of you. you bring your hand up to your chest, to where your broken heart lies. the vines in your lungs suffocating you.

you look at the now dark and starry sky and let out one last breathe.

"i love you, yang jungwon." you say and close your eyes for the last time.

epilogue.

10 years later

the wind rustles the leaves of the tree you once lay under. some leaves fall and slowly land on the grass by the base, beside it, a flower has grown. a daffodil. the first flower you ever coughed up. you searched its meaning back then.

"daffodils symbolize unrequited love, rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life."

maybe, just maybe, fate will let you have your new beginning.

that fate will give you another chance in your next life to be with the one you love.

#wonhaz #enhypen #jungwon #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #enhypen angst #jungwon oneshots #enha x reader #enha jungwon #enha imagines #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon x y/n #enhypen scenarios #jungwon scenarios

121 notes · View notes

bangchansgirlsblog · 7 months

Note

Hey wassup

If you still taking requests may I suggest angsty fic skz xreader where they imply during argument that the MC is after their money (gold digger) idk if it's better as a reaction of all members or maybe it's easier if you just one scenario with one member without adding their names and the readers can imagine whichever member they think is suitable for the scenario

“Such a Gold digger”

- Lee know

Ahh!!! Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy the stories (I’ve made a few with the different boys). 🩷

!Not proofread!

Warnings: Angst/comfort

Pairing: Leeknow x reader

Summary: Basically Leeknow is a jerk and you put him in his place

Tired was what Leeknow was.

His muscles ached, his head was pounding and his throat was sore.

When he walked into the door I could tell he wasn’t in the brightest moods. His hair was messy, his eyes were red and cheeks a light pink.

He looked hot tho. He always looked hot.

“Hey baby.” I say putting down the coffee mug and getting up from my comfy position on the couch. I place a gentle kiss on his pink lips and try to lay down his crazy hair which left me on my tiptoes struggling to balance.

“Hey,” he softly says putting his shoes in the wrack and walking straight into the laundry room to drop his bag. A routine he would do so that he was ready for the next day because he hated waking up early to get his stuff together.

“How was your-“ I begin to ask him a question but was cut off by his irritated sigh.

“Y/n where are my dancing sweatpants?” He says loud from the laundry room.

“I haven’t washed it yet my love, it’s in the dirty pile.” I sit back down and pick up my mug. Watching the cats all pile by my feet as we continued to watch what was playing on the tv.

“Are you serious? I asked you to wash them. I need them for tomorrow.” He says frustrated

“Jeez I’ll just put them in right now. No need to be cranky.” I sigh and get up once again to go deal with his little meltdown.

“I’m not being cranky, I just asked you to do one simple thing and you didn’t even do it. God your so annoying sometimes” I take a step back and eye him top to bottom because I was wondering who he was talking to like that.

My eyes squint at him as I try to take in this little attitude he was having. Annoying? I was the annoying one?

“Jeez Leeknow I was just really busy today with-“ I try to cool down the fire that was about to start but he cuts me off again. This time it was getting under my skin.

“I don’t care.” He slams the cupboards in the laundry room trying to look for whatever it was he was looking for. “I’ll do it myself.”

“I can do it leeknow just go rest.” I say reaching out for the stuff in his hands but he shoves past me making me stumble a little. I stood there shocked, so much anger building up. I understood he had a bad day but did he really have to take it out on me. As I rub my elbow I hear him grumble.

“Your nothing but a gold digger” My heart drops as I turn to the man that was now walking past me to go to the kitchen. I grab his arm and furrow my eyebrows.

Pain and anger filling my chest as I try and process what he said. Was he being Foreal right now? What really was his problem?

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

His boy towered over mine. His eyes were dark and sad. To even look at him right now without punching the shit out of him was hard.

“I’m a gold digger? Wow Leeknow.” I repeat his words. I let go of his hand in disbelief. Now I was leaving the room but I stop to look at him. My vision blurry from the tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

“Why do you always have to take out your bad days on me huh? I was busy the whole day trying to get the stuff you need for your stupid tour! I didn’t have time to be running around doing laundry. I’m not a maid. If you really want one hire a fucking assistant. Then you’ll be grateful right? You’re a fucking prick. Oh I even fucking missed Binna (Y/n’s little sister) recital today! So fuck you. I’ve never even asked you for fucking money. Never in my life. You’ve hurt me Leeknow.” And with that I grab my coffee mug and head into the room where I break down crying.

Leeknow was always short tempered but not in a mean way. More of like a “I’m mad at you so don’t talk to me” way.

Why did he have to be a jerk? Why did he have to make sure to throw things at me that he knew would get to me? He never was appreciative.

The bed was warm but felt empty, the pillows swallowed me and the blanket covered my shaking body. Loud sobs leaving my mouth and little sniffles at the end of each cry. What felt like 10 minutes was an hour. The knock on the door making me pretend to be asleep. I hear familiar footsteps come into the room and the bed sinks beside me.

A sigh leaves his lips before he begins to talk.

“Y/nie? My love? Are you awake my love?” He asks softly. His hands drawing circles on my side but I push them away and turn my back on him. Facing the other end of the bed.

“Okay fair enough, I deserve that.” I hear him say, his voice quavering. Was he crying?

“Y/nie, I’m sorry and I know sorry won’t make you forgive me right now but I’m going to find a way to make it up to you okay? What I said was out of line and so not true. I was just tired and stressed and irritated-“

“But that doesn’t matter Minho.” He looks taken back by the name Minho cause I never call him that. “I have bad days too but you don’t see me calling you names and yelling at you when I get home.” I tell him.

“I know and I need to work on it. This is the first and last time I promise. Just give me some time to make it up to you? I love you so much and never ever will I say things to hurt you.” He’s hand searches for mine and I let them intertwine.

“You were a bitch.” I mumble and I hear him chuckle.

“Yes I was but forgive me? I can’t bare you be mad at me anymore especially when I’m going on tour soon.” I let out a little whine complaining.

“Fine a forgive you,” I roll my eyes and he smiles at me.

“You’re so cute Baby.” He automatically gets on top of me and starts kissing my face everywhere which makes me burst in a fit of giggles.

“Get off babe I’m going to explode!” I yell while trying to push him away.

Soonie and the cats all hop onto the bed and cuddle beside me and leeknow as we slowly drift off to sleep. The night being forgotten.

Hyunjin’s part will be out soon 🩷

361 notes · View notes

callmeklair · 5 months

Text

unrequited. [part 1]

«this takes place after Shu's DF manservant end because I was craving some angst. though this part might not be that angsty»

this was like a novel idea I got in my mind a few weeks ago but as I'm already slow with declaration (sorry 🏃🏻‍♀️), I knew two novels together would have been hell so I converted this into like a summary-ish type shot. from past 10 days

*cries in incomplete drafts of my upcoming novel chapter, headcanons and other various oneshots*

«is it because of his strong fondness

towards her?»

even though she doesn't show it, he knows. he can see it. the pained expression every time her heart wrenched at his unfamiliarness towards her. the depression she was falling into. the timid smile she tries so hard to put on even when she is suffering from inside. everything is going the same as he remembers except her. she. she deserves better.

Reiji has been watching Yui from afar for a few days now and his throat always turns dry whenever he sees that darkened expression on her face. everytime his good-for-nothing brother gives her that cold unknown look after filling her up with so much hope previously. it's weird. why does things have to turn out like this? shouldn't Shu have remembered everything, if Yui does? then why him? why Reiji remembers everything that happened?

her gloomy expression frustrates him.

is it because of his strong fondness towards her?

days turns into weeks and there's no development between Yui and Shu. Reiji has tried to comfort her, trying his best to hide the fact that he remembers… because if he tells her, he is afraid she'll have those hopeful eyes again, just like she had when Shu promised her, only to be broken again if he is not able to successfully rejoice them.

at first that's how Reiji validated his reasoning in his mind about not telling her anything, but as he spent tea times with her to calm her down and ease her, he realized something. maybe he was being selfish? maybe he doesn't want Shu to remember that's why he is concealing everything? why is he even holding such hope for someone who is already out of his reach? who is already someone's.

and as much as he knows, someone loyal like Yui would rather die with Shu having no memories of them then to fall for someone else just because he doesn't remember her anymore.

weird. a vampire’s heart never beats then why does he feel that his heart that was beating(?) has stopped with this wrenching pain clutching him aggressively from top to bottom.

still, he suppressed himself. still he acted coldly towards her like usual but never crossing the boundaries unlike previously. it was better for both of them. after all, he has always remained in the shadows.

but one day, everything changed. the moment he saw her sobbing constantly in her room with various scars and one deep painful bite mark, he knew. he knew he had enough.

Shu. it was Shu's doing. that was the last straw for Yui. she kept hoping and believing that one day Shu will remember, one day her strong unfazed love for him will bring him back. days and days she kept spending time with him to re-create the memories but it was to no avail. he really has forgotten her from the roots. she knew he always kept himself away from everyone, especially mortals, due to his past but still… she had a hope, which shouldn't have ever existed from the beginning.

she was already having a hard time healing those internal scars that he gave her for forgetting about her, but today he didn't just extend those to paint them externally on her body, he broke her.

he crossed the line.

Reiji took a deep breath as he slowly picked her up and took her to his room to tend her. Yui, who was still in a broken state, didn't even realize when Reiji teleported them, when he patched her up, and when he gave her anesthesia to calm her down and make her fall asleep.

Having enough, Reiji casted a barrier around his room for Yui's protection, hoping she won't wake up before he returns as he quickly leaves to finish off what he is about to do. he wanted to take her with him as at no cost he is leaving her alone, especially at this state of hers, but things will get more difficult for Yui if she ends up regaining her senses in the other world.

Eden, the castle of the great king Karlheinz, the ruler of Makai, and his father.

He went in to find the answers he needed. but it wasn't easy as his father refused to converse until the right time comes.

but Reiji didn't have much time. Yui is alone. and at the same time he can't give up so easily and go back without answers, it would lead nowhere and they will just keep going around in circles. He took off to the pharmaceutical institute inside his father's castle where he kept notes of his research.

his finger brushed through various books, some old, some new, until it stopped on one specific one ‘The apple of the Adam’

he flipped through it and stopped at one page, struck melancholy. there it was, the result of his father's experiment marked with a red pen, in his beautiful clear handwriting “failed”

failed? what failed? he doesn't understand!

at this point Reiji was getting angry and having second thoughts about his father after seeing those red words.

from what he saw, Shu went through all the lengths to protect Yui, he even chopped off demon lord burai’s head to protect Yui from the founders. yet, failed!?

he doesn't understand. taking a deep breath, Reiji calmed himself down to think rationally and take in everything that is written in his father's notes about Yui to get more clues.

He squinted his eyes to check around the page for some more pointers on why Shu failed.

there he found it. “even though he went through all the extents, still their love wasn't that strong to remember each other when things went back to square one. only Eve remembers. a true Adam would have remembered his true love for his Eve no matter the circumstances, led by his strong fondness and desire for her.”

…

could it be…? no. no. maybe he is thinking too much into it. there's no way.

he definitely remembers only to help Shu, just like he has been told from his childhood and about his future as his elder brother's right hand man.

Reiji took the diary with him and again stood in front of his father's mysterious room door. he isn't budging before getting the answers, but to his surprise, the door was opened immediately.

Reiji stepped in to see his father smiling and mentioning how finally it's the right time. but he remained silent, though that didn't stop Karlheinz from continuing as he repeated what Reiji read in the notes, totally conscious of his son's awareness on the said matter.

“I'm pretty sure you already figured it out but my son, you are the true Adam. I'm proud of it.”

“no. Adam is chosen by Eve, didn't you say it yourself in your notes? so there's no way I'm Adam when Yui is obviously in love with Shu. there's more to it, isn't it, father?” even though Reiji was aware that his perseverance of memory was his father's doing, he still can't speak it out loud, after all no matter what he is their father.

Karlheinz laughed as he commented on his son's intelligence as to be expected. he agreed that it was his doing.

With the truth in his hand, Reiji was completely speechless, not sure what to say. Karlheinz's smile dropped as he realized that his son has no intention of accepting the truth of becoming Adam.

“you should return back my son, she is alone isn't she? your anxiousness is way too obvious. we'll talk another time”

and in the next snap, Reiji was back in his room with Yui still asleep peacefully in his bed but with a darkened expression. crying in her sleep calling Shu's name and muttering why here and there in mid.

that's when he swore he was going to heal her. he is going to help her. he will help her to make Shu remember, even if he has to do it indirectly to keep his remembrance secret. even if his love is unrequited until the end.

#reiyui #shuyui #yui x reiji #yui x shu #diabolik lovers #yui komori #komori yui #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers fandom #dialovers #diabolik lovers yui #unrequited #unrequited reiyui

117 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

Home Pt.5 || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 1.2K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: fear of being home, domestic abuse (mentioned), homelessness (if you squint). Tags: you/your pronouns, a bit angsty, teen romance, underage drinking, British slang (attempted), British military (attempted accuracy). a/n: not proofread. prepare yourselves for angst soon! DOUBLE CHAPTER BABYYYY.

[← Previous] || [Next →] || [MY MASTERLIST]

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

6:16 P.M.

You kept repeating the time of arrival in your head as you dash into the station, all giddy and excited.

Three months without him had felt lke an eternity.

It was dark out and kind of rainy, courtesy of it being early Winter. But it didn’t matter to you. He was on Christmas leave! He was coming home to you!

You put on something cute today, actually putting in the effort, getting your hair cut and spending a bit of the money he sent you to buy a new outfit, just for him.

He had left for “Phase One” aka Basic Training in September. It had been rough without him. Many things had changed, even over just mere 3 months.

You watched the train pull into the station and the passengers begin to exit, walking past and around you as you stand under one of the orange-lettered electronic sign announcing the arrival of the Leeds-Manchester train.

It took a second to spot him in the sea of people, but, eventually you did. It was hard not to… Because he’d already begun beelining toward you like a hunting hound, eyes locked in.

You rushed forward as well and just barely evaded crashing onto a random person’s side as you pushed toward him. Then, you threw your arms around him, and he wrapped his around you.

Before you even had time to think, Simon was cupping your chin with his hand and pressing his lips onto yours in a kiss that stole your breath away. It felt like you were floating, finally able to kiss the boy you love after months of not seeing him.

His kiss was hungry, his hands gripping onto you and around you, rough fingers digging into your back, as his tongue wrapped in yours. He leaned forward ever so slightly, causing you to bend back over his arms, in a mock dip.

By the time you pulled away, you were panting for air and absolutely breathless, your eyes welling up with tears as you looked up at him. His lips and yours were equally as red, and the way his shoulders raised and dipped make you realize he was just as out of breath as you.

“Hi…!” You greeted him with a trembling bottom lip while he straightened you both a bit. You could hear the rustling of his bergen backpack as he returned you both to your original positions, standing firmly.

“Oi, darlin’.” Simon replies, his brown eyes trailing over the sight of you. “Fuck, you look good.” He says and burrows his face in your neck and hair for a second, breathing you in.

It made you ticklish, but you closed your eyes while leaning into his embrace, your own face hiding in his strong chest. “I missed you…” You both grumbled at the same time, and that made you both snort a chuckle.

When you finally pulled away a bit, your eyes traced over the sight of him as well, allowing yourself to finally get confirmation of all the things you’ve imagined about his evolution and physical changes after the academy.

“You look different.” You mused, which caused him to look down at himself as well, like he hasn’t noticed the difference between his changes beyond the fact he put on weight.

You were pretty sure he was taller. You knew that you were taller too, but he definitely felt like he grew more than you did. He was also a bit bulkier, his chest and arms and shoulders and neck and hands… All of him, really, felt harder, stronger.

“That a bad thing?” He asked you playfully and you found yourself chuckling a bit. By that point, the train platform was basically void of people, leaving you two almost alone.

“No… Just find it surprising, to be quite honest.” You admitted and he took you by the hand, pulling you close as you began walking out of the station together.

He murmured something about having “other ways to surprise you” while he nudged you along to lead the way to the car in the car park outside.

You think back on the way he was during that Christmas leave while you watch the way he acts around your friend group now, 6 months later.

You’re sixteen. He’s seventeen.

It’s July… And Simon’s different.

Granted, it’s been the better part of a year since he went to Basic Training, but he’s… very different.

In December, he had already begun being formatted into a soldier… But now you can tell that he really is one. He walks around stiffly, shoulders squared, back straight, chin raised… Even when he’s standing about drinking and laughing and telling jokes…

You sip your beer quietly and look at him from across the room as he talks with the lads, telling them all sorts of stories. He stands taller and more muscular than the rest of them. It’s so jarring.

His hair is no longer a buzzcut like it was last time you saw him. But it’s also not the french crop/caeser cut he used to rock before shaving it off. It’s essentially a crew cut now, a bit longer on top, buzzed on the sides.

His face looks better. No longer is there a nasty, permanent bruise on his cheek, or hollowed out cheeks from barely eating and smoking too much weed to make up for it. He still has eye bags but they’re much less prominent. He looks like he actually eats and sleeps decently now.

He’s bulked up even more than he had already. He’s all broad-shouldered and toned, his arms wrapped around yours no longer feeling as comforting as they used to. They’re not as soft… And you find yourself craving that softness again.

You still look the same. Still feel the same.

You’ve just graduated, and have no prospects as of yet. Not that you necessarily need any. The money he’s sent you (which you've been saving) is more than enough to keep you afloat while you’re biding time to follow Simon’s plan.

So, in the mean time, you’ve still been coming here, to the pub, nearly every week, spending time with Oliver and Emily, Archie, Jack, Harry, and the new addition, Poppy, Harry’s girlfriend.

And all other nights, well… you spend them alone. In the back of Mr. Riley’s car, with a blanket and a pillow, catching whatever sleep you can before the sun rises and you’ve got to drop off the car at the Riley residence and rush yourself back home (and to school, up until recently).

Things at home are more difficult. Your dad’s gotten worse. And you don’t want to imagine how Mr. Riley is as well. Simon probably knows, probably gets letters from his mum. You’ve never had the guts to go up to their front door, introduce yourself, and establish a connection. And you don't feel like you should ask.

You miss him a lot every night. You’re sure his mum and Tommy do too. It was simpler when Simon was around. When you’d have him by your side every night, holding you close and kissing the crown of your head, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, making promises, making you laugh.

It’s lonely without him… but it’ll all be worth it! He’s already done with Basic, now he’ll do a few more months of ITT at the Parachute Regiment and then… before you know it, he’ll be 18 and serving the country and you’ll move in with him, like he promised!

You’ve handled a year. What’a few more months?

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

[← Previous] || [Next →] || [MY MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #light angst #masterlist

40 notes · View notes

marinaas-world · 5 months

Text

do i wanna know?

// wilbur x reader

part one (“and i can still smell her perfume.”)

cw // use of swear words, angst (i'm so angsty)

summary // wilbur wants you back after you caught him cheating on you.

// pronouns - not mentioned.

!not proofread!

576 words

a/n // i still don't know how to do this. i wrote this really fast because i was bored LMAOOO

it's been around 2 months since you kicked wilbur out. you threw his stuff on the ground outside your house, while he begged for you to stop. he even tried to bring his stuff back inside to put it back “where it belongs”. despite the fact that he cheated on you, he was the one crying. what an asshole, so selfish that he couldn’t even tell you he was sorry. just pitiful, how he sat crying at your feet as you gave him what he deserved. that night, he blew up your phone.

“i swear that’s not what it was!”

“i’m a good guy!”

“i would never cheat on you!”

“you’re being over dramatic.”

“just let me back in!”

“answer me!”

you ignored the texts, but your heart wasn’t cruel enough to block his number. you were still in love with him anyway. eventually, they dialed down. the last text he sent you was “i guess i just need to move on.” as much as it hurt, you knew it was true. you both just need to move on from each other.

you decide to get out of the house when your guy friend invites you to a local café. you weren’t going to tell him it was wilbur and your favorite date spot, but the thought laid in the back of your mind as you sat down at the same table you and wilbur had your first date. as you begin to loosen up, of course, he had to walk in. his eyes immediately met yours, like that table was the first place he looked (it was). he gave you a little smile, like the one you do when you see someone you know, but not well enough to say hi. except this one had more of a sad look to it. like he was saying he was sorry. your friend notices and tells you that it wouldn’t be an issue if you want to leave. as you begin to leave, someone grabs your arm.

“i know you don’t want to talk to me right now, or probably ever, but i need to tell you that i am so sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you, my love. do you wanna know that i’ve dreamt of you every night since you kicked me out? and i know i kept so many secrets from you, but i’m ready to tell you the truth. like how i’ve played that song that reminds me of you over and over again until i fall asleep without you. and i know that i shouldn’t come back to you, but after a few drinks, all i can think about you and whether i should call you or not. and maybe i’m just too busy being in love with you to move on, but i can’t think about anything else. all i can think about are those beautiful lips of yours, and how i need them on mine again. have you ever thought of calling, darling? do you want me crawling back to you?”

you stare as he blabbers about everything. you even start to feel a little bad. it took every drop of resentment in your body for you to turn around and walk away. you just wish that he would have stayed that day. then maybe you wouldn’t have had to listen to him saying things he should’ve said earlier. but now you have to listen to them another day.

#wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #angst #cc!wilbur #cc!wilbur x reader #cc!wilbur x reader angst #will gold #lovejoy #lvjy #are these tags relevant?#makingitoutalive

86 notes · View notes

imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

I have an idea for Dean Winchester and one of Hugh Jackman's characters, Van Helsing.😘(If you have not seen it, go watch it, it's awesome!) Where you have been with the Winchesters for a long time and after Sam falls into the pit, Dean leaves Reader for Lisa. it's really sad and angsty at the beginning and begs him not to leave, he tells her to finally get her own life, is mean and thinks she's clingy and annoying and only tolerated her because of Sam being her friend. He does and is depressed and just wanted to die after. She meets Gabriel Van Helsing (modern version and descendant of the famous Vampire hunter and Gabriel the archangels true vessel) helps her get her life back together. Two years later she's engaged to Gabriel and meets Dean again at a bar. Maybe Dean is trying to be kind and sweet towards her but she's not interested in him anymore. Her fiancee gets involved. You can end it how you want! 😁

hello honey! thank you for becoming my second supporter on kofi! (when you become a supporter, it comes with perks! when you donate, you can choose any request, wip or au, to be written first!) I hope you like what I wrote! thank you again.

summary - after sam falls into the pit, dean leaves you for another, and you end up being attacked by demons, leading you to your future husband.

warning - angst, swearing, happy ending.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

“I don’t understand.” You stand there, gnawing on your bottom lip as you stare at the man you’ve known for quite some time, “You want me to go?”

Dean groans, “Yes, Y/n. I don’t even know why you are still here. Sam is gone, and there’s nothing for you here.” He continues to stuff his things into his bag, not even glancing at you.

“I have you… Don’t I? Why don’t you stay?”

“Fucking hell! Do you not get that I don’t want to be around you anymore?! You’re not family! You’re not even my fucking friend! Do you not understand how fucking clingy and annoying you actually are?! But no, because Sam had to be your friend, it meant I had to fucking tolerate your existence. Get your own fucking life, Y/n. I don’t want you. No one wants you.” He sighs heavily, zipping his duffel bag up and slinging it onto his shoulder. “Now, if you excuse me. I have a beautiful woman waiting for me.” And with that, he leaves, leaving you alone.

Hours had passed since Dean left you, and you slowly dragged yourself out of the motel and hopped on a bus, not caring where it took you. You had lost your best friend and someone you thought as family, and finding out they never cared about you hurt the most. You had landed in a secluded area, feeling unworthy of living near people. You didn’t know you were being followed too deep inside your head.

“Well, well. Look what we have here, fellas!” You lift your head to see a few demons, and you know they are demons with how they had no care in hiding their black eyes. The man looked at you with a smirk, “Aww, did your boyfriend leave you? All alone with no protection. I’d say we have a treat.” They begin to get close, and even though you are at the point of wanting to give up, you know this isn’t the way you want to go out. You slowly stand, knives sliding down into your hands. “Oh, look! She’s going to try and fight us all on her own!” They laugh, and it seems to fuel the anger, the rage building inside you.

The fight begins, and the demons all gang up on you as you try and fight your way around. You had started to grow tired, and just as you were about to throw a punch, someone jumped in. Taking down the demons so swiftly and elegantly. You barely had time to blink before bodies dropped, and he had turned to you, raising a brow as you held on tightly to your knives. “Are you alright?” You nod, still cautious. “I’m Gabriel Van Helsing. I mean no harm.” He puts his hands up as you nod, slowly inspecting him before you hold your hand out.

“Y/n.”

Two years had gone by, and you were now engaged to Gabriel. He had become home to you, helping you grieve for your lost friend and his brother, being there for you when you didn’t love yourself. You and Gabriel were celebrating the good news at your local bar, and when he had gone to get the drinks and food you had ordered, someone from your past decided to come over to say hi. “Y/n, hi.” You looked over, and your face had become pale at the sight of Dean standing beside you, wearing a sweet smile. “How have you been?” Why was he being so… Nice?

“Uh, I’ve been fine.” You smile awkwardly, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you start to look for your fiancee, you didn’t know why Dean had thought it was okay to come and talk to you like he didn’t rip your heart out, but you didn’t like it. “Did you… Need something?”

He smiles, “I just thought we could catch up. I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me? Did you forget what you said to me? What happened to you going back to Lisa?” You growl, growing more uncomfortable rapidly.

“Uh, she… She left me. So, when I saw you, I saw a chance.” Dean smirks, but it disappears when he notices the ring that flashes on your left hand. “What’s that?”

You go to speak but are cut off. “That’s her engagement ring,” Gabriel says, placing the tray of food and drinks down before wrapping an arm around you and glaring at Dean. “I’m Gabriel, Gabriel Van Helsing.” Dean’s eyes widen slightly as he hears the name, knowing he’s literally sitting across a legend. “Now, if you don’t mind. My fiancee and I are trying to have a peaceful evening.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

183 notes · View notes

brandnewhuman · 1 year

Note

Hi dad. I got an angsty one for ya.

How would the slashers (anyone you wanna write for, as many or few as you want) react to a reader who they've kinda fallen for and acts comfortable around them, but is really just putting up an act to stay alive? maybe the reader could fall for them, but they're scared out of their mind and Stockholm syndrome isn't happening. 😈😈😈

Trigger of love

Headcanons

☆STARRING☆

☆Brahms Heelshire☆

☆Michael Audrey Myers☆

☆ Jason Voorhees ☆

☆ Jesse Cromeans ☆

Tw: major character death, description of injuries and bones breaking, canon violence, mature language, toxic relationships, mentions of blood, description of mental illness

A/n: THIS IS THE JUICIEST TASTIEST ANGST REQUEST EVER BRO. so happy to finally have the opportunity to write it, even tho it has taken me ages but I'VE DONE FINALLY. That's my shit right here, really tragic stories with really tragic endings and never ending dramas ANYWAY ENJOY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE:

I genuinely think brahms would end up killing you

LET ME EXPLAIN OKAY? DON'T COME AT ME

he wouldn't do it on purpose, it would be something accidental. Your behaviour would bring out the worst tantrum ever in history

Not your fault bro I know but it is what it is

The fact is that everytime brahms does something bad it has some sort "justification"

Like Idk if it makes sense but take greta for example

He did all those things at the beginning cause she was breaking the rules, and he killed Cole cause he was hurting her

You're not doing anything wrong but at the same time he's hypersensitive to people's behaviour so he knows you're not really doing it because you love him but more because you fear him

It's like living with his parents and even tho there's some sort of comfort in it because it's all he knows, he still wants to feel truly loved

You don't try to escape but don't let the Stockholm syndrome kick in either and you don't even give a chance to actually believe he's not going to hurt you

Which again, not your fault cause his tantrums are enough on their own to make someone shit themselves, and he knows it

We love a self-aware king

So he finds himself in this shitty in between where he can't say he doesn't has what he wants but neither that he's happy

For once in his life, having his own selfish need of you staying ecc it's not enough and he wishes for you to be happy as well

You do everything and beyond to keep him happy

Never once broke a rule, never once tried to get away, never said no to giving him affection or anything he asks for

You have even taken care of him when he was sad ecc

But he can still see it in your eyes how scare you are of him

You flinch away everytime he just as much as lifts his hand, you always tremble slightly around him, your eyes has never stopped being glossy

The only time he sees any other emotion in you besides fear is when you're alone and he's not really sure how much better that is cause you look so defeated and sad and overall depressed

Needless to say the guilt is eating him alive, to know he's the one who has ruined you like that will never leave him a moment of peace

It's literally driving him crazy

At first he was like 'yeah whatever, fuck you. You'll stay anyway and I'm not going to say sorry'

Oh boy if he did regretted it

Once again, he feels like he felt while living with his parents all over again and after a while he develops this fear of you killing yourself like they did

My man here is collecting trauma like pokemon cards

He tries everything like everything for real

He becomes more patient, he tries to take care of you instead of making you take care of him, he treats you like you could break if he's not careful enough

At this point my boy doesn't even fuckin wants you to be in love or for you to get the Stockholm syndrome, he just wants to show you he's sorry and that he has learned his lesson

It's like living in some sort of loop from hell where he can't fucking make it right even if he really wants to

He has even stopped spying you and invading your privacy without you having to ask for it

Has even considered to let you go but he has found out about this underlying fear of someone telling the police everything and making him end up in a much worse situation than being a prisoner in his own house

Funnily enough his insecurities about his face ecc are subsided by how much of a monster he feels on the inside

Like you have made very clear you're simply scared of him as a person, not because of his face.

And that's something he will never be able to get over

After countless months of trying and being in his best behaviour he just kind of snaps

You haven't seen him all day and you didn't felt observed either which made a very appreciated break from your hypervigilanting and stressing routine

Just when you thought everything was calm and you decided to head up to go to bed, there he was waiting for you at the top of the stairs

He seemed calm but you could seem the slight trembling of his body, one you recognise from numerous fits of rage he had in the past

He didn't straight up started to yell but you sensed there were like wrong and right answers to each question he was making

He kept asking you if you loved him truly, if you were happy or if you wanted to leave

To everything you always answered what he wanted to hear even tho the feeling that you were saying the wrong thing was only growing more and more

'You're scared of me, aren't you? You'll never want to be here'

At this point he knows you're lying and for a second something seems to switch in you

He has stopped wearing the mask around you so now you can freely see how pained he actually looks

You have never noticed before how tired he looks too

You have spent so much time being scared of him that now that you see it and you like really look at him you can see how defeated and miserable he has been

There's no trace of pretending or lying or trying to manipulate you in any way

Now you're still scared but not as much and for once you actually decide on your own to try and help him

You can't stand to look at him crying like that, it looks like he's going to die from a heartbreak anytime soon

You start to go towards him with your hands up forwards so he knows you mean no harm

It's really like trying to get a stray animal to trust you

He has his hands covering his face and you can see how violent are the sobs, you actually take a minute to let yourself be amazed by the fact that even with such a hard and brutal crying he's able to conceal the noise

He's used to do it since he was a kid and it shouldn't surprise you that much but in some way it does

When you finally reach for him that's when he pushes you away screaming

Which scares the shit out of you and makes you lose your balance

It's a cliché but he swears it all happened so fast but at the same time so slow

He saw how you made yourself trip backwards and your face contorted in panic as you felt the void behind you, realising you were about to fall down the stairs

He tried to grab you but you were trying to hold on the rail so you just completely missed his hand

You basically flew down the really long staircase and all he could do was watch

He had that paralysing feeling of guilt and fear clawing at his guts as he watched you fall

But when he heard the disgusting sound of your neck basically snapping against the hardwood floor, that's when he really felt sick

He almost wanted to run away and pretend nothing has happened cause in his mind, if he got near you now that would make you dead for real

For now as he watches from afar you could still be alive

BTW baby bro here is not stupid and I'm not talking basic level of knowledge nono

I'm talking he has studied and read about a lot of stuff including books about medical things like injuries ecc

Basically he's like really smart

That being said, and I know you know where I'm going with this

From the moment you fell he knew you wouldn't survive.

Either that or you would end up disabled

He knows too that when you snap your neck you don't die on the spot but you feel a ridiculous amount of pain until the injure does its course of action

That's yet another thing he feels guilty about your death

He should've put you out of your pain at least but he didn't, he just stared at you while shaking and crying silently

He didn't even dared to move in case some invisibile and unnoticed force of the universe would notice what he has done and decided to punish him for it

Which thinking about he felt like he was already being punished

It's kind of sad cause he didn't actually meant it, it was truly an accident but he will always blame himself for it as if he was the one actively pushing you

Now he knows that no matter what he does or how much he changes he's always destined to be the cause of the death of the people he loves.

Which he should've seen coming since not even his parents could bear his existence

MICHAEL MYERS:

Tbh he's not that shocked about it

I mean bro at least acknowledges the fact that he is the fucking boogeyman and everyone will always find him scary

He doesn't even tries to excuse himself because he knows he kills and he's a overall unhinged man and that's something a normal person will never get over

What bothers him is the acting nice

When you both met, you really didn't knew who he was

He happened to have been badly injured and was like bleeding the fuck out on your backyard

yes, you basically just took him inside as if he was some sort of stinky and pitiful ugly cat

That and the fact that you're taking care of him stirred him away from the idea of killing you

No shame in being oblivious to the most juicy gossip in town but bro was really just waiting for you to recognise him

When you did, and you started to act all nice and scared ecc he has to admit he took advantage of it

He knew how to scare you into never running away and never snitching him to the police so he could use you for food ecc

At some point he was impressed by how well you're able to keep up with this

No lashing out, no crying and you have never broke down

He could tell tho that you have never been this stressed

Your hands are always trembling, you don't sleep well at night so you're getting clumsier by the minute

When you drop stuff, burn food ecc he doesn't mind much but as time goes by it's hard for him to not get attached to you

Which it frustrates him cause he it makes him even more aware of how you see him

He has come to know you by invading your privacy a little bit

He had to since you were not exactly open to let him get to know you

The more he finds the more he likes you

And the more he likes the more he realise he has basically killed you from the inside

It's hard to think all of those things he has found out are about you cause now you look more like a shell of what you used to be

And he definitely feels the guilt of being responsible of you losing your spirit

You're the first person he really cares about and loves like really truly loves

But that goes against everything he is now cause he can't possibly choose between be with you or killing

He starts to dwell on the past too much and the more he thinks about it the more he gets mad about the situation

Before you he has never really care too much about the injustices he has suffered

As a matter of fact he has never really grasped the fact that so many people have failed him and that's why he will never have a normal life

There was a time where he kind of did but that was long ago when he was just a kid

At some point he just accepted what everyone said he was, that he's only purpose and role in life was to be a monster to everyone

Whether he wanted to or not it wasn't really important

No one would help him nor he could make people change their minds

Besides, his reasoning is that if so many people is saying it then it must be true

And in his own selfish way he thought that the only one who got the consequences of it was him and the idiots who happened to be killed by him

Now that he sees the result of what everyone and himself has done with him on you he just feels sick

He finds himself spending hours observing you and daydreaming about how a normal version of him would've lived a normal life with you

He tries really hard to show you he can be gentle

Spends hours observing other couples and what normal people do with their loved ones to understand better how he should act in order to get closer to you

It's so frustrating for him cause he literally doesn't has a choice anymore and he sees in you everything that's wrong with him that he can't change

He feels for the first time as broken as he really is

At some point he wishes you could just drop the act of being nice, treat him like trash so he can tell to himself you're like everyone else therefore he doesn't need you

But even if you were to do that he knows he would never be able to kill you

Everytime you touch him even if it's by mistake he gets a bubbly feeling of hope inside that maybe you're starting to see him as something different than what he is

But then he looks at your eyes and he sees the same glossy and sad scared stare looking right back at him

He knows there's like nothing else he can do and for the first time he just gives up

He needs to like get used to not be able to see you so he starts with small steps

He starts to staying out for a couple of hours more than usual, then hours turn to days, days into weeks, weeks into months and months into a year

Everytime he comes back and you see him he can immediately see the shift in your behaviour and how you lose all the already weak sparkle you have gathered from knowing he was far away from you

That's the worst part of it for him

He needs to see you, he wants to spend time with you and looks forward to see you for the last few times before going away fr

But you on the other part seem to flourish when he's not around, to count the minutes and seconds until he's gone

It kinda makes him feel like he felt when he was a kid and he wanted to see his parents

The day he finally came back for the last time after a year you were asleep

He didn't even sit on the bed, nor did he woke you up or did anything that could steer you away from your sleep

He sat on the floor near your bed in complete silence

He took off his mask knowing that you would never see him and he just stared at you

He wanted to look at you, take in every detail of your face to burn it in his brain so he would never forget you

He just wanted to look at you not as the shape, but just as Michael. Even if just for one time he wanted to pretend he was just that and that you were being stared by a person and not a monster

For once his difficulty in expressing his emotions was useful because if he were to let go of all the things he was experiencing he could swear he would just explode or melt away

The only thing that came out of him was a tear, which he swiped away slowly before getting up and putting on the mask again

After that he never came back, obviously you were over the moon and he was just well going on with it

He occasionally stalks you but after some time he stops cause it makes him feels sickeningly alone

Here something to think about if you need to cry: sometimes he thinks back at when he was trying to get closer to you

One of the things he wanted to do the most was holding hands but you always looked so scared when he tried to do that he just dropped it

He understands how it might look to you that this tall ass bastard is trying to hold your hand

That and the fact that he wasn't really good at being careful and gentle didn't help his cause

So from time to time, when he thinks about it he stares at his hands

You know when you like pretend to be holding someone's hand while holding yours?

Well he does that and finds ironic the fact that he has learned to do it gently now that he will never be able to do it with you

JASON VOORHEES:

Listen, LISTEN

I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK, IM A JASON APOLOGIST FIRST AND A HUMAN SECOND

jason my beloved what are this foul gremlins making me do smh

He is one of the few slashers I genuinely think could change for you and try to make things better

Jason doesn't kills just for funsies

He kills because his sense of duty and to protect himself and his home and all that jazz

I don't really think he genuinely wants anyone fearing him

If anything it's the opposite. He has been treated like a monster his whole life, no one has ever gave him the opportunity to be something else

Like why would he enjoy ending up being what everyone has always thought of him? Doesn't make any fucking sense mate

Like I said he has to, he genuinely thinks there's nothing else for him to do and there's no other place in the whole world for him

IM GONNA CRY BUT LIKE HE'S AT LEAST GRATEFUL OF HAVING A PURPOSE CAUSE HE GENUINELY THINKS HE'S SOME SORT OF SICK JOKE OR MISTAKE

So my Wild take of the day for which I'm ready to bet my own ass is that if he could he would very much appreciate to just be left alone and live a normal life, not bothering or harming anyone

The fact is that much more like so many other slashers he can't really communicate to tell you at least his reasons for being a murderer

That's something that torments him daily, to know that in your eyes he's merciless and overall really evil

Assuming you survive being hunted down by him, he would do near to everything to show he's not a threat for you

You must have been someone who he didn't deem fair to kill

Like you were respectful, you didn't seem to be a fucking moron messing around and ruining his home

Once again, I'm gonna assume you just don't know about him and crystal lake ecc

cause otherwise for you to be there is pretty much a death wish from your part

That being said, if you don't know anything about him there's a good chance that the scariest part of Jason (sadly) it's his appearance and behaviour

JASON BABE YOU'RE HUGE LIKE SCARY BIG, WHAT THE MCFUCK IS ONE SUPPOSED TO FEEL SEEING YOU CHARGING AT THEM LIKE A FUCKING GRIZZLY BEAR

The whole being chased around like a fucking animal is not a vibe i guess

LET ME BE DELUSIONAL ABOUT THE FACT THAT WITH ENOUGH TIME HE COULD BE QUITE NICE TO BE AROUND

I won't let anyone ruin my mental image of him being a sweetheart once you know him

THAT MAN CAN'T BE THAT EVIL. YES, I CAN FIX HIM. IF YOU THINK YOU CAN'T THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM

Now, jason may be shy and a gentle giant but he's not stupid

He knows very well how you think of him and how does he looks like to anyone who sees him

He can see through your act, you can't fool him

He can see the same scared look in your eyes he used to see on other people's face when he was a kid

The only person who has always looked at him like he's just well a human being with feelings is his mother

And maybe it doesn't makes sense and It may be controversial but deep down jason appreciates the nice act

Like he just can't bring himself to care anymore. At least someone is trying to be nice

Keep in mind this man has known nothing from the world beside humiliation, pain and loneliness

Idk if anyone ever thinks about it but it torments me a great deal the thought of Jason's miserable life

Being stripped away from your humanity, having to choose a path of violence to protect yourself, having to witness how they kill the only person in the whole universe that could ever love you

That shit it's just not fair and even if he knows you're scared of him he sees it as the most caring and thoughtful anyone has ever been with him in a long time

Think about it, anyone who has ever seen him has either tried to kill him or has been incredibly cruel

The fact that, even if out of fear and self-preservation, you try to still reach to his human side and treat him with respect at least it's already enough

I think he could be one of those slasher that could make you fall in love without falling for the Stockholm syndrome type of infatuation

HE IS, OKAY? I WILL TAKE NO FUCKING CRITICISMS. YOU WILL GENUINELY FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM OR ELSE I'LL STEAL YOUR FUCKING PET

Jason would literally try everything to get you to feel less stressed around him

It breaks his heart to see your eyes glossy or your body shaking because of fear

In the process he gets clumsier by the minute so at the in of the day you're both stressed

He is because he's scaring you just by breathing and you bc obvious reasons

You can notice how different he acts tho and somehow, his efforts manage to go through your thick layer of fear

You could swear he almost tries to make himself look as harmless and gentle as possible

You can see him trying to take as little space as he can or bringing you things that might cheer you up

He cleans up from blood and gore before getting back home

He even makes his cabin more homely for you so you feel more at home and less kidnapped

And at some point it works

That plus you somehow piecing together what has happened to him it's starting to make it easier for you to not relax but overall feel less terrified around him

He would spend so much time watching you from afar because he knows he will never get to know you or see you without fear

The days where he can observe you without you noticing anything are his favourite. He gets to see a version of you more relaxed and natural

He would literally spend an eternity being far from you if it means you can feel better

He would spend his free time improving the cabin and daydreaming about what it would be like to be liked by you

Not even like dating you because he feels it would be wrong for him to even think about it

Please for the love of God, try to be friendly with him

Having the opportunity to know him better is taking away some of the fear

You know very well it's not Stockholm syndrome cause it feels genuine

One day you take a good look at him while he's taking care of his flowers I'm the garden

You observe every part of his rotting being and you can't exactly explain why but you feel your heart ache and your eyes glossy

Not for you, but for him

It's almost like some sort of illumination comes to you and makes everything painfully clear

You have obviously noticed he's not alive cause we're stupid but not that much

You take a really good look at his clothes and body, at his mask and everything you look at to get more details about him

Everything in his appearance screams hurt, wounded and mistreated. A whole life and a afterlife filled with getting hurt and abused by the world

His bright blue eye has always a layer of sadness in it even when he's doing something that makes him happy

It hits you just now how little human he must feel.

And that leads you to realise that he has not only changed so much just to please you but has distanced himself as if he's very own existence could be offensive to you

From that day you started with small steps like saying good morning or good night to him, keeping him company when he tended to his garden, trying to get closer to him even if that means just being in silence and standing next to him

That grows into "talking" with him, taking walks around the woods, spending evenings reading inside the cabin

You insist in eating together, tending his wounds, mending his clothes and overall doing anything that could make him feel less like the shell of a human being

At first he doesn't really get it but the more you do it the more he silently realises how much he craves those types of things.

I personally think that with enough patience you both could build a good relationship and you could even talk him out of killing people and settle for just scaring them away

He's favourite thing to do is curling up next to you in bed, his head on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeats while you mindlessly caress his back while telling him about anything you want

JESSE CROMEANS:

🎶DADDY LET ME KNOW THAT I'M YOUR ONLY GORL🎶

Some funzies before doing some emotional terrorism

Since you all want to be a menace with this requests I'm going to use post accident Jesse

To say this man is on the verge of tears every single day is an understatement

So long story short you were jesse s/o

He was like the love of your fucking life and you were his

His whole world goes around you, you're the only thing that makes him genuinely happy besides his work

You found out about the whole chromeskull thing in the worst way possible

He was scared of coming back after the accident with his face so he just kind of distanced himself

Everytime you would ask when he was coming home he always had an excuse

You both went a long time of just calling each other's, spending time on calls and sometimes even falling asleep with the phone still on

He missed you so much but he couldn't bear the thought of you looking at him like he was monster

It was killing him to know he was so close to you but couldn't reach you

You find out who he really was on accident

Cleaning around to distract yourself you ended up gathering many things that needed to be put in the attic so that you did

Once you were there you found some tapes. You checked them out of curiosity and oh boy you regretted it

You felt so sick you almost threw up

All those girls, there were some many of them in each tape and each one of them different from the other

It was horrifying to watch the love of your life mercilessly torture and kill helpless and innocent people

Now everything made so much more sense and It actually made you feel even worse to know that this whole time, while you were talking with him, Jesse was killing people

What hurts the most is feeling like you've been played, like you were something he has used to entertain himself until he finds a new victim

Needless to say you didn't stayed in your shared apartment a day longer, you didn't even take with half of the things you own

Most of them were gifts Jesse bought you so bringing them with you was only going to make it worse

You were scared out of your mind. So scared that in fact you couldn't even find the courage to go to the police, afraid that maybe that would end up with your being another one of Jesse victims

Obviously no one told Jesse what was going on. They all collectively agreed their boss was dealing with enough shit to keep adding more

They all needed Jesse to focus on work

That didn't worked well cause as soon as you stopped answering the phone he decided enough was enough

He needed to check what was going on so he found the courage to overcome his insecurities and go find you

He was heartbroken when he found you left

He immediately thought that you just got tired of waiting for him, that he has drawn you away

Long story short he went after you to find you and try at the best of his abilities to explain everything and win you back

He did not see the coming all that panic and terror in your face when he knocked at your door

He did think it was bc of his face so he tried to calm you down and explain

Needless to say you didn't calm down and he being the man he is, just kind of kidnapped you

Now onto business here

He knows you have every right to feel like this but it still upsets him deeply to know that he will never get the chance of being with you like before

He thought that you being scared and acting crazy every time you saw him was the worst but now he is kind of rethinking it

You started acting like this after he "snapped" at you

You were panicking and screaming while he tried to tell you something, that lead to you taking his mask off accidently which ended up in him pushing you off too hard

After that things went really fucking downhills

It wasn't like you were still out of your mind but the look in your eyes is unbearable

The first time you started the whole acting nice thing he almost thought you were starting to at least tolerate him but then he saw it

It's the same look some of his victims had while trying to gain his trust, seeing it on you was the worst thing he has ever experienced

He just couldn't stand it anymore, his face, you hating him, his favourite victim who was the one that has damaged him so badly killed by that cunt of Preston and now this? Mate is done

He has tried everything and anything but now he just kind of gives up

You notice the shift in his behaviour, how he comes by just to bring your meals or things you may need, he doesn't even goes near you or talks and his eyes are always anywhere but on you

I gotta be real with you guys, I don't think there's like a way to make this up

HE'S HURT OKAY? BRO'S EMOTIONAL DAMAGE IS BIG AF

He would even start sending his assistant to take care of you so he doesn't has to face you at all

It's just painful cause he already feels like his life is ruined and everything is falling apart with him not being able to fix it

You know what? I'm gonna fix it cause I can't take it anymore

You have probably grown used to be basically trapped at home, it's not like you're suffering with god knows what kind of abuse cause you basically have all you need to distract yourself aside from going out

Jesse comes home very rarely and as much as you hate to admit it you have been feeling less and less scared of him

You still think what he does is horrible but the thing that bothers you it's him lying to you

You do have to admit you miss being with him. Not like when you were scared but like when you didn't knew and he was just Jesse

You wonder from time to time if he's angry at you for how you have reacted since he hasn't shown himself for quite sometimes

As if on clue you hear something break in the bathroom and what seems like someone crying

That would be another of Jesse's mental breakdowns about his face. He thinks he looks so bad he can't even bear the sight of himself in the mirror

You slowly try to approach the bathroom and putting your ear against the door, you try to hear what's going on

You have never heard Jesse crying nor making any sort of noises come out of his mouth so it's actually quite shocking to hear him sob so hard

When you open the door the scene breaks your heart and in that moment you don't see chromeskull or the homicides, you just see your Jesse, the same one you have always loved and that has always helped you when you were down, on his knees bawling his eyes out and shaking

You just do what comes naturally aka you get closer and you just hold him as tight as possible

He tries to hide away, panicking bc he doesn't want you to see what he has become, but you just keep hugging him and saying that it doesn't matter

The moment you hold his face on your hands and look at him with the same understanding gaze you used to have it's the moment he feels his heart beating right again

It's not gonna be easy to accept everything but at least you're coming around it and he makes sure you know how grateful he is for it everyday

#slasher fandom #slasher community #slashers #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #horror movies #slasher headcanons #michael myers #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #jason vorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher #jesse cromeans x reader

349 notes · View notes