#...call me on and i always kept them at a distance bc even though i thought they seemed so cool i was worried to get into them and always... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bingoboingobongo · 1 year

Text

the right thing to do (i)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: You’ve become a distraction to Ghost, and so he’s started keeping his distance for the sake of the team. But when a mission goes awry, he finds himself stuck with you.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of/allusions to sex, brief mention of dacryphilia, brief mention of blowjobs, canon-typical violence, mentions of injury, forced proximity, pining

A/N: hiii, ngl i’m actually really proud of this fic, like deadass this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet in the middle of starbucks. anyways i was thinking of including smut in this but changed my mind bc that shit’s hard to write so it’s pretty pg-13. i plan on making this a bit of a series (with smut hopefully) so while this chapter is gender neutral now (i think, don’t quote me tho) in the future the reader will be written as a girl. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated, enjoy :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

It wasn’t right for Ghost to be paying you as much attention as he was. It felt right, and he wanted it to be right, but that didn’t mean it was. What was right was what kept the most people safe. What was right was what kept the most people alive. Usually that was what Ghost did. Ghost did what kept most people safe. He did what kept the most people alive. The problem, however, was that doing the right thing and indulging in his feelings for you were two diametrically opposing things. Indulging in his feelings — indulging in you — was wrong.

It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with you; there could never be anything wrong with you in his eyes. How could there be, when he was seeing you through rose colored glasses? Although in his case, he supposed, they were more dark red than rose. Trivialities aside though, the real problem wasn’t anything that you were doing, it was what he wasn’t doing.

He wasn’t peering around every corner anymore. He wasn’t focusing on covering his tracks as well as he should. He wasn’t triple checking every piece of intel the task force got their hands on. He tried to, he really did, but with a thousand thoughts running at a hundred miles per hour — and a large majority of them having to do with you — it was only expected that a few things slip through the cracks.

For the most part, nothing too bad had happened as a result of his carelessness. A few scrapes and maybe one-too-many close calls, but nothing that would have gotten anyone in trouble. Maybe, if he weren’t a lieutenant or if he were in a completely different field, he would’ve been content to let it slide. But as corny as it sounded, he was part of a team, and he wasn’t going to let more people get hurt on his watch. Not again.

So for the safety of the team, Ghost started avoiding you. It always hurt him to push past you in the hallways, ignoring your little attempts at small talk; or to use Gaz as an example for takedown demonstrations, when in reality all he wanted was to be able to savor the warmth of your skin, even if it was with you pinned under him. Although, if he were being honest, he wasn’t opposed to pinning you down in other contexts. But as much as he hurt, he knew he had to do it. It wasn’t fair to you or the rest of the team if he wasn’t at his full capacity at all times.

He had made that decision two weeks ago, and it was already starting to get to him. Sleep was harder to get by, he was snapping at his teammates more, and when he rubbed the eyeblack off, it was only replaced by the sunken shadows under his eyes. He missed you too. Missed the way you would always offer him a bite of your food during dinner even though he would never eat it; missed the way you would always shoulder him to get his attention while you were walking to the training room, your hands in your pockets as you began telling him about something you had read the night before; missed the way you would grip onto his arm and try to goad him into taking off the mask or telling you what he looked like. Always the utilitarian though, he shouldered the problems in stride. They were nothing, he told himself, he had been through worse and he would go through worse. That was just how it was in the military. Besides, Laswell had just told them about a new mission, and a new mission meant new problems and new distractions.

It had gone fine in the beginning, but after a certain point everything started going to shit. On paper, their mission was simple; extract Krasimir Zhelyazkov, an arms and ammunition dealer with the Bulgarian mob who had allegedly dealt with one of Makarov’s right hand men, Demyan Solovev. Zhelyazkov would take them to Solovev, and Solovev would take them to Makarov. Simple. Of course, nothing was ever that simple when it came to war.

For one, Bulgaria in the middle of winter was cold, and with cold came snow and ice and wind. And of course, with snow and ice and wind came slippage and extra gear and low visibility. Ghost had been worried about the weather going into it; while all the members of the 141 had training in multiple environments, it was never easy going into a fight with snowfall as thick as blanks in a lottery.

The other problem was Zhelyazkov. While Ghost and Laswell both confirmed the validity of the intel they had received, there was no guarantee that Zhelyazkov would turn. Makarov was an intimidating man, and the stories of what he did to snitches were not pleasant. Either way, Zhelyazkov was unlikely to make it out alive, Ghost just had to make sure he got the information out of him before he died.

And of course, the other problem — which Ghost admitted was not unique to this mission but was still a problem just the same — was you. Even though he had tried to put distance between the two of you, he couldn’t help himself from stealing a glance in your direction every once in a while, just to admire the way your breath condensed in the frigid air or how you scrunched up your nose as if to make sure it was still there.

Ghost knew about these problems before they happened, and so he prepared for them. Worried about slipping on the snow covered ground? Request boots with better traction. Worried about Zhelyazkov not snitching? Get his family involved; it was unethical, yes, but if it was what it took to get the information then so be it. And you. Ghost knew he couldn’t afford spending anymore time eyeing you in the field, so he only increased the distance between the two of you.

Typically, if a target heard that someone was coming for them, they tucked their tail into their legs and ran — usually to a foreign country or some sort of island. But with Zhelyazkov, there was nothing to tip the 141 that anything was amiss; no sudden airplane rides, no sudden stoppage of shipments, nothing. Zhelyazkov kept living and doing business as he always had, seemingly unaware of the intel the 141 had on him.

Which is why when they approached Zhelyazkov’s compound, they expected it to be an easy takedown. In order to save personnel and to preserve stealth, the task force only sent one team out. For this particular mission, the team included Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, and of course, you. Ghost was conflicted about your inclusion on the team; on one hand, you were a valuable asset to the mission, but on the other hand, seeing the way you rubbed your hands together for heat in the cabin of the helicopter filled him with an aching urge to reach out for you and was an obvious distraction that impacted his ability to protect his team. In the end though, he couldn’t hold his inability to focus over you and besides, you had experience from your time before the 141 working in similar conditions, not to mention the general tactical expertise you brought to the table.

The mission had started like any other routine extraction would. A chopper flew the five of you to a forest on the edge of the compound, the thick snowfall helping to cover you. Once on the ground, Price did a quick headcount to make sure everyone had landed alright, before readjusting his rifle and leading the group forward. The five of you traveled in a line, with Price at the head and Ghost at the rear. You were positioned behind Price, but even with Soap and Gaz in front of him, Ghost was still acutely aware of every step you took.

At the moment, it seemed as if there was nothing to worry about. The snowfall was heavy of course, but not too heavy that it hampered the team and besides, it covered their tracks and kept them hidden. At least it should have.

The sudden shower of gunfire actually wasn’t the first thing that tipped Ghost off that something was wrong. It had been their radios. Laswell had told them she would be checking in on them after they landed, but five minutes had already passed with no sign of communication. At this point, they had left the forest and Ghost tried calling in, but to no avail. His radio provided nothing but crackly static, buzzing and impatient. He knew something was wrong and he tried to call for Price, but that was when hell started raining down on them.

The thing about gunfire is that you could actually see the shot happen before you heard it. It had always been an odd phenomenon to Ghost, the slight delay between sight and audio. For a brief moment, Ghost watched the snowy skies in front of him become aglow with a barrage of flashing lights. In a weird sense, it was dreamlike. Mesmerizing. And then the sound hit him. Even with earmuffs on, the gunfire was deafeningly loud. It was like watching a fireworks display, except the pops were louder, harsher, and there would be no delighted children looking up at the air in awe.

He tried screaming at the others to take cover, but the combination of winter winds and cracking bullets was hard to cut through. Somewhere to his right, he heard Price yelling, but his words were constantly interrupted by the enemy’s fire. Ghost tried looking for the others, but suddenly the snow was too thick, the bullets too loud, his teammates too far away. He did the only thing he could: run to the treeline for cover.

Between the sheer magnitude of bullets being aimed at them, the time Ghost spent looking for his team, and the time it took him to get to the treeline, Ghost had taken more than a few hits. Nothing detrimental, thankfully, but he could feel the familiar sting of a bullet that brushed him a little too close than he would have liked. He keeled over against a tree, listening as bullets flew past his face or struck the thick wood behind him. He tried using his radio again but it was no use; he couldn’t get a signal.

He tried to turn around, but the gunfire was too constant. He couldn’t get a clear look. He swallowed down an unceremonious groan as he considered the situation. Returning fire was an option, of course, but not a smart one. Considering his lack of a decent vantage point and the fact that he couldn’t even clearly see where the shots were coming from, even the best sniper on the force — which was him — wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot. Besides, he only had so much ammo on him, and if the attack was coming from Zhelyazkov, which he assumed it was, then he was seriously outmatched in terms of equipment. The man was an ammunition dealer, for Christ’s sake, if he couldn’t shoot Ghost, he could certainly keep him waiting long enough for hypothermia to set in.

“Shit, Ghost!” he heard from his right. He turned to look, and there you were, sitting with your back against a tree and your rifle in your hands. He was overwhelmed with relief at the sight of you, before cursing himself under his breath. He was in the middle of being fired at, why was he letting you distract him? “Where’s everyone else?” you cried, your voice barely carrying over the roar of bullets.

“Safe, hopefully,” he yelled, “I didn’t see where they went.” He watched you shake your head, you were probably cursing to yourself right now.

“Did you see who was with Zhelyazkov?”

“There was someone with Zhelyazkov?”

“Not just someone,” you yelled, looking at him grimly, “Fishers.”

Ghost turned away from you, leaning his head against the tree. “Fucking hell,” he muttered to himself, before turning to look at you again. “You sure?”

You didn’t say anything in response, only giving him a grave nod.

“God damn it,” he muttered. “Well, we don’t have time to worry about that, understand? Right now we just have to get somewhere safe.”

You nodded again, turning back to look at the source of the fire. “Most of the fire is coming from an MG3,” you called out, “they’ll have to change the barrel soon, we can move then.”

Ghost nodded at you, briefly looking back as well. It wasn’t long before the gunfire began to die down and the two of you moved from your positions in the trees, running further into the forest. But whoever was operating the gun was well-trained, and it didn’t take long for them to replace the barrel of the gun and restart the fire. Ghost ducked behind another tree, his eyes watching you do the same as he took a breath.

That was the only way the two of you could move for a long time. Waiting for what felt like painstakingly long minutes for the barrel to have to be changed, just to be able to run maybe a few yards before the spray of bullets picked up again and you had to take cover. It was a painstakingly slow process, and throughout all of it, Ghost couldn’t help but worry that you wouldn’t get to cover in time, and he would have to watch as you died in front of him. He also couldn’t stop worrying about the rest of the team. It concerned him that you were here but Price, Gaz, and Soap weren’t. If they had died when the gunfire started he would have been able to see their blood in the snow, he supposed, as if that thought was supposed to comfort him. It didn’t do much, and he could only hope that the three of them had at least found each other.

Finally though, the deafening roar of gunfire began to quiet down, either due to distance or to lack of ammunition, and Ghost felt like he could breathe again. “Are you alright?” he called out to you, quickly scanning over your body.

You nodded, your chest heaving as you gulped in the freezing air. “You?” He nodded. You sighed, rubbing your hand over your face. “What the hell happened back there?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, stomping to you through the thick snow. “You get hit anywhere?” he asked, his hand reaching tentatively for a scrape on your face.

You reached for your own face, freezing his hand in its tracks. He might have been a weathered war veteran, but even he got nervous in front of people he liked. He watched you wipe the blood off your face and stare at it, “It’s fine,” you told him, “it’s just a scrape. Motherfucker must have clipped me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t scar.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty enough to pull off a face scar. What do you think?” you asked, the minx-like grin on your face providing a sharp contrast to the sheer gravity of the situation the two of you were in. That was another thing you did that distracted him. Those snarky quips and sly suggestions that made Ghosts stomach flip and his cheeks heat up.

“Stop worrying about appearances,” he chastised, trying to regain his focus, “we don’t have time.”

“You were the one that brought it up!” you cried, throwing your hands up.

“Quiet,” he said, “just because they stopped firing doesn’t mean we’re safe. For all we know they could have men on the ground looking for us.”

You dropped your hands to your side, “So now what do we do?”

He pursed his lips, surveying their surroundings. “We make our way to the secondary location as planned. Look at the tree branches,” he said, gesturing above him, “trees will grow their branches towards the direction that gets the most sun: south. The secondary location was north of the drop site and we’ve been traveling in a relatively straight line. If we keep moving in this direction we should come across it in an hour or so.”

You chewed on your lip, “Do we even know if it’s safe? Fishers was with Zhelyazkov, for all we know we could be walking straight into an ambush.”

“You sure it was Fishers?”

“Yes, it couldn’t have been anyone else.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure?” Ghost asked again, “the snow was thick, I couldn’t even see anything besides Gaz and Johnny.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted, “Me and Price were at the front, we saw the wall of Zhelyazkov’s compound. One of his cronies was up there with Fishers. He was standing next to an MG3 and pointing at us, I know it. I would recognize that stupid cowlick anywhere.”

Ghost groaned. Fishers wasn’t someone Ghost had known very well, so at the very least he was spared the painful feeling of being betrayed by someone he cared about — not that his feelings mattered. The traitor, Colten Fishers, was an American soldier. A veteran to military service, no doubt, but still considered a rookie in special operations. The official report would probably say that Fishers turned in exchange for some quick cash, that he was a cowardly traitor who betrayed them, but that answer didn’t satisfy Ghost.

Honestly, Ghost wasn’t even sure how Fishers had gotten onto the task force in the first place. Compared to the rest of the people on the team, Fishers’ resume was weak, his experience was subpar and his track record was a little too spotty for his liking. The fact that Fishers’ was even in a place to betray them worried him, almost more than the actual betrayal, because if Fishers was able to get on the task force with his lackluster résumé then that meant he had bad friends in high places.

“God damn it,” he muttered, “you have a point, but there’s not much else we can do. The more time we spend out here the more likely we are to get shot.”

“Or get hypothermia,” you said.

“Or get hypothermia,” he added. He reached for his radio, clicking it on only to be met with static again. “Bravo team, this is Bravo 0-7, do you copy?” No response.

“They probably set up signal blockers,” you pointed out, “either that or the storm is so bad it’s messing with our signal.”

He groaned, “Does yours work?” he asked.

“No,” you said, gesturing lamely at the damaged radio next to your chest, “motherfuckers clipped it while I was looking for Price. Scared the shit out of me too, thought they had gotten me right in the chest for a second.”

He walked up to you, bending down as he inspected the broken radio. He could feel you suck in a breath, and for a moment he let himself wonder if he gave you butterflies the same way you did to him. “Yeah,” he said, looking up at you, his mask inches away from your face, “this thing’s been shot to hell, there’s no way it’s gonna get a signal, even without a storm.” He lingered for a split second, captivated by the way your eyes stared up at him, large and round like a marble, before pulling back.

“Let’s get a move on,” he said, adjusting his rifle. “We can’t afford to be stuck out here when night falls.”

Walking in the snow was hard, walking in the snow and feeling you glance over at him every other minute was even harder. He didn’t want to look at you, well that was a lie, he did want to look at you, but he knew he shouldn’t look at you. He needed to put on a brave face, that was his job as a lieutenant. He needed to be serious, to have a plan, to not get hung up on distractions, and he couldn’t do that when he was watching you.

Instead, he tried to think about everything that could go wrong from this point. It seemed pessimistic, he knew, but he needed to be prepared. You had a point about the second location. While Fishers hadn’t been told everything about the mission, he knew enough to severely compromise them. Besides, if he did have one of the higher-ups on his side, there was no telling how much he knew. The secondary location had once been a logger’s cabin; it was small, kitted with only the bare necessities. A bathroom, a small kitchenette, and an empty bedroom they had planned to keep Zhelyazkov in. In other words, it wasn’t an easy place to set up an ambush. But they could’ve rigged the outside, set up tripwires connected to shotguns or planted mines along the perimeter. The forest around it was dense, which once would’ve been helpful to keep them hidden but now only provided a wide array of hiding spots for Zhelyazkov’s men to hide in.

Additionally, there was no telling how many men Zhelyazkov would have waiting for them. Even by himself, Ghost could hold his own and with you, their chances only increased. But Zhelyazkov practically had an army, and it would only take one well-aimed shot before it was all over. Granted, some of his men would likely be looking for the others, and if they also went to the cabin, the five of them could probably hold their own.

But there was no guaranteeing the others were heading to the cabin, let alone breathing. For all Ghost knew, their team of five could’ve been cut down to two long ago. “What are you thinking about?” you asked, pulling Ghost out of his thoughts.

He turned to look at you for the first time since you had started walking. There were snowflakes on your eyelashes and your face was tinged red from the cold. He wanted to be able to cradle your jaw, to warm you up until your face was flushed from something other than the cold weather. He wanted to tell you that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, that you would always be safe when you were with him, that he would kill anyone who tried to touch you and would do anything for a chance to hold you. “Just thinking about what you said earlier,” he said instead, “about Zhelyazkov ambushing us.”

You hummed, “Me too. I don’t know how likely that is anymore though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean think about it,” you said, “we flew over the cabin on our way here and everything looked fine, no footprints or anything. And by the time we did that and the time they started shooting, maybe ten minutes had passed. That would mean Zhelyazkov had ten minutes to get his men there, and they wouldn’t have been able to take a direct route or else they would’ve ran into us. Besides, why waste his manpower by setting up an ambush we might not even show up for? I mean, the plan was probably to kill us all right from the beginning, so why plan for us showing up at the cabin if we’re not even supposed to be alive? I mean, who in their right mind would do that?”

“Let’s not assume Zhelyazkov is in his right mind. It’s thinking like that that gets people killed,” he said, harsher than he intended. “Not that you don’t have a point,” he added when he saw you look down in embarrassment. He didn’t mean to hurt you, but he had fallen into that mindset before and he knew how dangerous it was. “For Zhelyazkov to waste his manpower on an ambush would be tactically unwise, you’re right, but we don’t want to go in expecting an empty house and get caught off guard.”

“So then what? We go in expecting to get immediately gunned down by another machine gun? How is that any better? It’s not like there’s anything we can do to prepare for that.”

Ghost grimaced, once again, you had a point. “Still, it’s better to be prepared,” was all he could say. You looked at him as if you wanted to say more, but your mouth stayed shut and your eyes turned to focus ahead of you once again.

The two of you walked in silence, with nothing but the sound of crunching snow to indicate that anyone was even in the forest at all. After what felt like ages, Ghost paused, holding out a hand to stop you too. He felt you looking at him, but he didn’t respond. He was studying your surroundings, scrutinizing the snow on the ground before searching the skies.

“What is it?” you finally asked in a hushed whisper.

“Checking for traps,” he said, his gravelly voice so quiet he could barely hear himself. “The cabin should be just beyond that treeline,” he whispered, pointing. You followed his hand, but you couldn’t see anything behind the dense wall of tree trunks. “Let’s go,” he said, “get your gun out.” You complied, mirroring him as he unshouldered his rifle and held it against his chest. He turned to look at you, your lips pursed into a tight line and your hair sprinkled with snowflakes. He wished you weren’t at risk of walking into an ambush, that way he could capture the way you looked with a camera.

He began slowly stalking towards the cabin, cursing to himself at the snow crunching under his feet. He arrived at the edge of the treeline, coming onto an open clearing with the small wood cabin at the very center. His head swiveled around, constantly checking for the familiar glint of gunmetal hiding in the trees. He turned back to you, “Let’s split up,” he said quietly, his voice muffled by his mask. “I’ll go left, you go right. Meet in the back and then sweep the house.” He watched you nod, and his eyes followed you briefly as you began to move in the opposite direction before he returned his focus to the task at hand.

The perimeter of the clearing wasn’t necessarily large, but it still took him a painfully long time to reach the back. “You see anything?” he asked when you arrived. You shook your head, and he cocked his head towards the cabin. “Let’s go,” he said, turning back to check on you as the two of you made your way towards the front of the house.

There was a small porch on the front, with a pair of steps leading up to it. Ghost skipped them, choosing to step over them and go straight to the porch. You weren’t so smart, and when you put your weight on the first step, it squealed and groaned. Ghost whipped around at the sound, and you rolled your eyes back and cringed, “Shit,” you muttered quietly.

The two of you were frozen for a second, you with your foot still on the step and Ghost with his eyes trained on the door. When nothing happened, you lifted your foot and stepped over the stairs, copying Ghost like you should have before. When you were both on the porch, Ghost gestured for you to open the door. You reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly before swinging it open.

Ghost walked in, his rifle swiveling as he made his way to the bathroom. He could hear you following behind him, the snow on your boots crunching slightly as you went to the bedroom. He swung open the door of the bathroom, only to be met with his own reflection in the mirror above the sink. His helmet was covered in snow, only accentuating the darkness of his eyes. When he had confirmed that the room was empty, he exited, watching as you came out from the bathroom.

“It’s clear,” you said, before he could ask.

“That’s a relief,” he said, letting out a sigh, but he didn’t lower his rifle.

“You think the others will be coming here too?” you asked, looking around the tiny house.

He wanted to say yes, but honestly he had no clue. The forest was huge, and he had no idea where the others might have been. They could be looking for the cabin as well, but there was no guarantee they’d find it.

He took off his helmet and cracked his neck. “Night’s about to fall, get some rest. I’ll take the first watch,” he said instead, reaching into his pack and tossing you a bedroll.

You caught it easily, but made no move to set it down. “It’s fine,” you told him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep, you deserve the rest.”

“That wasn’t a request,” he said sternly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah it’s an order, isn’t it? Geez, you sound like Price.”

“Price is right. You need your sleep, a sniper could spot your eyebags from a mile away.”

“Rude,” you shot back, “and by that logic, wouldn’t a sniper be able to see you from, like, two miles away from all of your eyeblack?

“If they see me, they’re already dead.”

“Wow,” you said, rolling your eyes, “I’m so scared.”

“You should be.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “I’m gonna take a shower then, you got any soap?”

He threw you a small plastic container, “Suave three-in-one? What are you, a high school boy?” you asked, shooting him an incredulous look.

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes, “Beggars can’t be choosers, darling, you want luxury toiletries bring them yourself.”

You were silent for a moment, and Ghost started to feel worry bubble up in his chest. He didn’t mean to say that nickname out loud, it just happened. He was exhausted and paranoid and hungry and he was stuck in a room he could cross in about ten steps and it just slipped out. And if this was how it ended, in this stupid, tiny, suffocating house that could have gone in so many other directions; if he ruined everything because he couldn’t control himself, he would have never forgiven himself.

“You think I’m darling?” you asked with a grin, and Ghost could practically feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

“Just go take your shower,” he said, but even he could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t want to join me?” you asked, pulling out a towel from your bag. Ghost stilled. He could tell you were just joking, you had to be. But there had to be at least some truth in it, otherwise you wouldn’t have even thought to say that right? Suddenly the house felt uncomfortably warm. It was too small, too cramped, too stuffy. He thought the house’s lack of heating would have been a problem, but for some reason it felt like there were a thousand heaters in this tiny room.

“Geez, Ghost,” you said, giggling, “I was just messing with you. Dang, is it really that easy to get you speechless? Guess I have a new party trick to show the others when we get back.”

He stared at you, trying to come up with something to say. “I’m gonna set up outside,” he said finally, changing the topic, “leave the soap in the shower, will you?”

You hummed, slinging the towel over your back. He watched you step into the bathroom, his eyes lingering on the door as it shut behind you. He could hear the shower turn on, but he made himself leave before he could hear your clothes come off.

The crisp, winter air provided a sharp contrast to the tense atmosphere of the house. The frigid winds nipped at his eyes and he could feel a shiver rack through his chest but he didn’t mind it. It was refreshing, feeling the freezing air fill his lungs and watching his breath condense in front of him. He sat down on the porch steps and reached for his rifle, checking the magazine. He picked out one of the bullets, thumbing it thoughtfully as he stared at the snowstorm in front of him. He put the bullet back and looked back at the house, making sure that you weren’t around before he pulled off his mask. He let out a sigh, thumbing the hard plastic skull in his hands and letting the frosty air kiss at his exposed skin before pulling the soft, black, skull-marked balaclava he wore normally out of his bag and over his face.

Ghost wasn’t the kind of person to let his mind wander. He knew a lot of people did, Soap did, Gaz did, even Price did, but not him. It was just easier that way, he never really had a good place for his mind to wander to anyways. His mind had a tendency to lurk around dark places, and it always left him worse than he started. Once, he had tried to speak to someone about it, and that had only ended up with another dead body to his name. Instead, he distracted himself by focusing on the task in front of him: watching the treeline for enemy soldiers.

Somehow though, you started to linger around the edge of his thoughts, and he didn’t push you away. He kept staring ahead at the snow-covered trees, but in his mind he was seeing you. He was seeing your stupid teasing grin, your fidgeting fingers that never stayed still, that smooth skin on the junction of your neck and your shoulder that he wanted to kiss and lick and bite. He could almost see your lust-drunk face in front of him, starry-eyed and teary, your lips swollen and red from how hard he would kiss you. He could practically hear you under him, all breathy and pitchy, your voice raw from how much he would make you beg for him. God, he knew he needed to stop these thoughts but he needed you more. He needed you pressed against him, your skin warm and soft and supple, he needed to feel you on top of him, to be inside you. He needed to know how it would feel to have your mouth around him, your eyes lidded as you stared up at—

“Hey,” you said, tiredness leaking through your voice. Ghost suppressed the urge to jump, turning to look at you. “You see anything interesting?” you asked, taking a seat beside you.

“Nothing,” he said, hoping you wouldn’t notice the way he had to slightly readjust his pants. You didn’t, thank god, for a special forces operator you surely weren’t the most observant, but he wasn’t complaining. You weren’t wearing much, only a pair of thin pajama pants, a tank top, and a hoodie. He was surprised you weren’t shivering.

He could feel you staring at him, partly because of the way your warm breath fanned over him and partly because you stared at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. He had to fight the urge to look back at you because he knew if he did, you would be able to see the star-struck in his eyes. “You need something?” he asked, trying to fill the silence.

You turned away from him, your eyes scanning the treeline. “Not really,” you hummed, “but it’s lonely inside, can’t sleep.”

“Lonely?”

“Well— Not lonely, but— I don’t know. It’s just… unsettling, I guess.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he said, with a slight chuckle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snorted.

“It means I’ve seen you do things that would make a grown man cry and you're scared of sleeping alone.”

“Uh, that is not it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m not scared, I’d just rather stay out here. Besides, it’s easier to fall asleep in the cold.”

“Is it really?” he asked teasingly, “or do you just like me that much?”

You yawned, letting your head rest on his shoulder. He tensed up at first, but when he realized how nice it was to feel you against him, he relaxed. “You got me pegged, Ghost,” you said tiredly. He had to suppress a groan when he saw the way you looked up at him. Your eyes were large and slightly damp from the yawn, and he could see the smallest speckle of teardrops on your eyelids. Everything about you was just so damn intoxicating, and for what? It wasn’t like he could act on it like he wanted to. He couldn’t push your slightly damp hair out of your face like he wanted to, he couldn’t run his hands up your body and squeeze you in all the right spots like he wanted to, he couldn’t push you down against a table and fuck you until you cried out for him like he wanted to. He wanted to do so much to you and he just couldn’t.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your voice sweet and tired.

He stared at you, it’s not like he could tell the truth but it hurt him so bad to lie to your face. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re interesting,” you said simply.

“Am I?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, staring back at him, “are you gonna give me an answer?”

“Not tonight. You gonna sleep out here?” he asked, watching as you let out a yawn.

“Do you want me to?” you asked, picking your head up off his shoulder and staring up at him.

Ghost was silent for a moment, “I don’t have a problem with it,” he said finally. You gave him a sleepy smile which made his heart melt before resting your head against his shoulder again. “Aren’t you cold? You’re barely wearing anything and your hair is still wet, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

You groaned, burying your face into his shoulder, “Now you really sound like Price,” you mumbled, voice muffled by his jacket.

“And Price is right, again. You’re gonna get sick or catch hypothermia, go get a blanket,” he said, nudging you off of his shoulder gently. He didn’t want to have to push you away, especially since you looked so comfortable, but he was worried for your health. In this weather and in this line of work, catching a cold could have unforeseen effects, and god forbid you get hypothermia. Slowly, you pulled yourself off of Ghost, shooting him a pointed look as you turned back into the house. He turned back to the treeline, trying to remember the way your head leaned against his shoulder. He could still feel the shadow of your touch against him, the warmth and the weight of it. He wanted it back again, regretting sending you off.

It wasn’t long until you returned though, carrying a large wool blanket. “Happy now?” you asked, quirking your brow up at him as you returned to your spot beside him. “I stole it from the bedroom, figured nobody else would be using it.” You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, pulling your knees in so you could cover them too. You let your head fall back on his shoulder again. “The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” you asked, your eyes fixed on the sky.

He looked up, he hadn’t paid much attention to them, but you had a point. The sky was a dark sapphire blue, punctuated by a canyon of stars down the center. Even with the snow falling, the beauty of the stars shone through, their light bright and blinding. He let his eyes wander down to you for a moment, and he could see the night sky reflected in your glassy eyes. Your eyes flickered to his and you grinned, “Like what you see, L.T.?” you asked.

Ghost looked away, “Go to sleep,” he said, missing the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at him.

Although he wasn’t looking directly at you, he could still see you in his periphery. He could feel you too. Feel the way you nuzzled into his shoulder, one of your arms snaking up to wrap around his like you were a koala clinging onto a branch. Feel the way your chest rose and fell against him as you breathed, small puffs of air condensing in front of you. He could feel the soft flutter of your eyelids on his arm as you buried your face into his shoulder, trying to shield your face from the cold. It wasn’t long before your breaths began to even out next to him, the puffs of condensed air arriving slower and more evenly.

He turned to look at you again, his eyes raking over your body. The blanket pulled tightly around you, your hair which fell slightly in front of your face, your lips which he swore were pulled in the smallest smile, the bridge of your nose, the ends of your eyelashes, that little scrunch in between your eyebrows. You were the most beautiful thing in that moment, stars be damned. He would’ve given anything to be able to snap a photo of you right now, but he couldn’t, so he resorted to tattooing the image of you into his brain. Not that it was hard, looking at you, admiring you, treasuring you, it was the easiest thing he would ever do.

Ghost shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to you, not here, not when you were so vulnerable and he was supposed to be keeping watch, to be protecting you. It wasn’t right. But wasn’t it? Couldn’t it be? It felt right, and he wanted it to be right. He needed it to be right. He had spent so much time focusing on everyone else; what was safe for everyone else, what was healthy for everyone else, what was right for everyone else. But now, just now, couldn’t he just focus on himself for once? Couldn’t he just be selfish for once, to savor and relish in this moment? You were here and you were safe, and he was here and he was safe, and wasn’t that all that mattered in this tiny moment devoid of reason or time or outsiders? This had to be right. This was right. You were right. You always were.

He looked back at the stars again, taking in a deep breath as he savored the smell of you. You smelled like gunmetal and cheap soap. You smelled like him. He let your fragrance continue to fill his nose as he stared up at the sky. He watched in awe as a streak of bright light arced across the vast canvas of dark blue sky: a shooting star. He thought back to what his mother used to tell him in the backyard of their old flat in Manchester. “Look Simon,” she would say, tracing the path of the star’s tail with her finger, “that’s a shooting star. You make a wish, and you don’t tell anyone, and then it comes true.” Back then, he used to wish for allowance, new toys, a pot roast for dinner, one time for his dad to go away. They never came true, and he knew it was because he always told his mom what he wished for.

This time though, this time would be different. He would keep it a secret until the day he died. Another weight for him to carry, but one that would be worth it if it came true. He wouldn’t tell anyone what he wished for that night, with your sleeping form against him, soft and warm and comforting. He wouldn’t tell anyone that he wished you would love him like he loved you.

2K notes · View notes

bloogers-boogers · 21 days

Note

Hi! I have a lil au idea for you! Pretty much my first idea for Adam and Michael. Get the popcorn 'cause this is gonna be long.

Lucifer and Michael were quite invested in the two humans. Lucifer kept drooling over Lilith but Michael was the opposite. Something about Lilith's attitude just pissed him off. She was quite arrogant and bossy, always shooing his lover away or ordering him around to make him go away then telling Lucifer something else. Adam from the first moment adored Michael and Lucifer but Lilith also hated Michael.

Michael once made the mistake of calling Lilith out on her behaviour. A fight between Lucifer and Michael broke out. Fortunately it was broken up by Sera and no one got seriously hurt. Adam tried to ignore all the things Michael said but some things started to click. Adam distanced himself from Lilith and Lucifer.

Michael got punished, worsening his punishment by arguing with the elders about Lilith. He felt betrayed. They used to stand by him. They used to trust him but now, things are changing. Michael started to leave his office less and less 'til another fight broke out between Michael and Sera. Michael ended up leaving to the garden to meet Adam again. Adam told him that Lucifer told him that he is getting a new wife. A woman named "Eve". Michael was surprised. No one even told him about it. Lucifer and Lilith in the meantime are living their best lives in the garden. Eve was created and Adam hell for her like no other. He was finally happy.

Lilith got jealous and asked Luci to help him.

A couple of days went by and Adam was going to his lover with Michael to introduce him to her. They've found Eve but...she was on top of Lucifer, both of them red in the face. Michael was furious with his brother.

Eve tried to explain but all Adam said to her was "You're just like her" then ran away from the scene. Michael asked Lucifer if he was proud of himself but before Lucifer could answer, his brother was already gone.

Michael went after Adam and had an idea on the way. Maybe he could help Adam get revenge. Michael forged up an idea to manipulate Eve into eating the apple.

They did just that. Lilith got curious after seeing Eve's change in personality and ate the apple as well.

The elder angels found out and banished Eve and Lilith onto Earth, giving them help to create humanity on their own but other than that, they were on their own.

Michael and Adam were banished to hell for what they've done.

A long time later, Adam and Michael had a daughter, Charlie...

Ik it's just a swap au but it's kinda fun. I haven't yes Adam AND Michael in the places of Lucifer and Lilith yet.

Have a rose for reading all this:🌹

DUDE I SWEAR I READ THIS LIKE THREEE TIMES ALREADY I’m such a sucker for swap au and let me tell u this is the type of fic I’d read omygod lsbelwbdwñeb 💖💖💖

I love the idea that initially Lilith would hate Michael but eventually grow to like him once Adam deals settles in heaven (so not only Adam speaks of him but she has to meet up with him in the meetings so she eventually starts developing feelings for the king of hell), so in the exterminations maybe she’s the leader of the exterminators now? And she’d go there and try provoking Michael and flirting but Michael is so down bad for Adam he doesn’t even bat an eye!

Lucifer is literally being cucked as a great karma for what he did to Adam in this au! Like, Lilith is no longer in love with him but uses him to hold power in heaven (she literally picked Eve over him back in the garden). She also flirts with Adam at his arrival albdwlsbwlw at first it was just to be a bitch to him but eventually she genuinely wanted to score him. (but ofc Adam was only annoyed by her advances.)

Adam deal has something to do to protect his family so he’s forced to be up there but he’s still madly in love with Michael, though, he’s also force to be around Lucifer a lot more (the angel would look for him, *cough cough* he’s enthralled by the first man. Also bc this is kinda of a great excuse for him to speak with his brother which he misses to inform him of Adam’s doings.) Adam is not allowed to be with Michael, speak with his daughter or in hell unfortunately.

Eve whereabouts still remains a mystery (but Adam knows where she is. I feel they somehow made up at some point and are acquaintances at the very least.)

And I feel Michael’s way of dealing with his depression unlike Lucifer’s who tries to avoid his responsibilities and locks himself away, Michael will indulge with them and even add more to the pile, working nonstop. Shutting himself in his office (instead of workshop) and be like this workaholic king who shuts down any possibility of distractions and family time (poor Charlie…) he may even do the opposite of Lucifer who was always hiding in his castle, while Michael would rarely ever be home! Like traveling through all rings dealing with deals, meetings and all that stuff.

Either way I NEED MORE OF THIS OMYGOD 🔥🔥💖

#asks♡#guitarhero

77 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for not defending an ex-friend when people called her a slut?

I (20 f) fell out with my best friend and roommate M (20 f) at the end of sophomore year of college. reason we fell out isn't the main subject of this post but I think it's relevant so I'll try and keep it as brief as possible.

For context I'm Black attending a VERY white school. Frenshman year I was the only black girl in my building and this was just post-covid so student groups were pretty dead. So first trimester most of my college friends were the girls from my floor including M (white) and S (20f, asian american). It was very isolating tbh, esp bc I experienced a lot of microaggressions, but the girls I befriended were pretty good at sharing my outrage and letting me confide in them.

The worst incident was when at a party, a guy (G, white) made some very racist comments towards me and in general (said the n-word a few times). I admit I escalated it by engaging w him and the whole thing got out of hand, a lot of people saw, and he got a reputation as a racist. Afterwards, he was always rude to me, blaming me for egging him on while drunk and just constantly making disrespectful comments about me and my 'attitude' where i could hear. no one ever said anything to his face but were supportive of me after the fact - S was always particularly supportive and said she could relate.

I was generally fine with avoiding G esp in sophomore year when we moved out. I lived with M and another friend (P) and it went pretty well. We were asked in like November if we would renew our lease, and though M and I wanted to the third friend didn't, so we began to think of replacements, and S was looking for a place.

Thing is, while S and I were still on good terms I felt like she was being a bit secretive w me. She'd often come over and talk privately w M and I got the gist she was seeing someone and didn't want me to know. I shook it off as us growing apart and the fact I'd gotten more involved in Black student groups and hadn't hung around with our dorm friends as much, but then in Jan, as we were planning to sign the new lease, I found out she was dating G. Tbh at this point we weren't even close friends that I felt a strong personal betrayal, but more so I was mad at them both for not telling me while making plans for us to live together. They knew I was uncomfortable around G and wouldn't want to live w his gf, esp without knowing. It felt like they were almost purposefully going behind my back.

I didn't do anything at the time, just slowly backed out of the lease renewal and made other arrangements. I stopped hanging out with S almost completely and was just cordial w her and took a big step back from M and our dorm friends.

The other relevant bit of context here is M had a boyfriend (T, 20 m) who was in our freshman dorm and very close to our year one friends (lived with them sophomore year and now junior year too). She broke up w him in Feb, which led to a lot of her friendships w our dorm friends (her only friends really) to deteriorate a bit, esp as she was no longer super comfy hanging around where he was. this especially became an issue in the spring trimester bc she got a new boyfriend over the break, a friend from her classes T hadn't liked.

So, M kept pressuring me to hang out w her and our dorm friends a lot more, which inevitably meant seeing S and now G, who they'd all decided they were cool being around when I distanced myself. I told her why i didn't want to and I didn't want to see G again but she promised he had 'changed' and wouldn't say anything to me. eventually I folded and went out w them all once and it honestly sucked. M completely abandoned me to be w her other friends, G didn't say anything but kept glaring at me the whole time, and I felt very out of place. afterwards I told M i was sorry, I know she felt awkward around her ex without me, but I wouldn't do that again.

She left it till like the end of the year then there was a big dinner she really wanted to go to that T would be at (her bf was not invited), w all our dorm friends. I kept saying I wouldn't go, but then she told me she checked w the hosts and confirmed (and promised) G wouldn't be coming. I said okay but asked we sit next to each other and made it clear how I felt around S etc, and she agreed and promised we would. Long story short G was there, I wound up next to S and across from him snickering at me the whole time, with her on the other end of the table. I texted M about it, she said it was 'fine' and I was imagining it and to try and enjoy the gathering.. yeah no. I dipped before desert, she chased me outside asking what was up and I explained why i was upset, she said i can't expect her to be there for me the whole night and she's allowed to 'have a good night without my drama,' i said racism wasn't drama and she literally dragged me along to deal with her drama, nevermind my comfort, and that she was an incredibly selfish friend for putting me in this position. I left, she wound up crying with everyone comforting her, everyone there (M included) went off at me for being an unsupportive friend/dredging up year old drama with G/overall making everything about race, I cut them all off and moved my stuff into my girlfriend's place a week after all this and didn't speak to anyone since.

which is pretty much all the backstory (longer than the main bit, sorry), that gets us to the actual AITA situation. Junior year starts, I'm at a welcome back party w some other friends and i'm vaguely aware my old dorm friends (including S and G) are also here, but it's a huge party and i'm w my very supportive friends who ik will back me if anything happens so i dont really care. eventually M arrives w her bf, gives me an awkward look but doesn't say anything to me.

Then at some point, I'm upstairs using the bathroom and I hear the girls from our dorm group speaking to M in the hallway. Apparently it came out over summer she'd hooked up w her new boyfriend before she ended things with T and they were all pissed at her (esp for her playing the victim w her ex). I tried to stay in the bathroom until the conversation ended but someone was pounding on the door and I wound up having to get out and waddle past them awkwardly to get back downstairs. When I got out one of the girls was calling M a slut and other names and while i tried to avoid it I accidentally made eye contact with M, who was super upset and crying. I kinda just shrugged and went downstairs.

Later that night i got a long ass message from her new bf about how he knows I'm upset with her but it wasn't fair for me to just leave her in that situation, and that it was petty and selfish of me (esp bc I'm usually the person calling out this shit). I spoke to my gf, and she said she understands why i did nothing but also that it's never okay for people to call someone a slut. I agree with that 100% and in any other case i might have tried to diffuse the situation (like if it was safe and I thought I could). I've told a couple friends who think I did nothing wrong and it wasn't fair to expect me to say smth when she never said/did anything to defend me and that she had it coming, but my mom told me I should've done the kind thing and not stoop to their level and it's made me feel really bad. I think I might be TA bc i could have stood up for her without anything bad happening to me beyond being in an uncomfortable convo, and also bc it kinda felt good seeing her friends turn on her? Like she threw me under the bus to be in their good books and defend them and they dropped her ass anyway, and if I acted from a vengeful place then thats asshole-y of me. but also no one in this story has apologised to me once and as my friend says its not fair to rely on black ppl to fix racist white ppls mess.

so, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

174 notes · View notes

nicherayyy · 1 year

Note

Hi, could I request a la squadra x child reader were the reader, like, was kinda scared to living with them and as time went on and reader got used to having them as their family and ends up calling the big brother/dad for the first time?

I decided to include ice cream boys bc why not

La Squadra x Child!Reader calling them dad/big bro for the first time

None of you expected to be found in such situation. Life is weird indeed, so here you are, living with nine assassins. Not quite a thing that you expected as a first grader. Honestly, at first you thought they will kill you, you weren’t sure why though. What would a child do to the men in their thirties?

Time passed, but you weren’t killed. Did that make you less cautious around them? Absolutely not! You were taught not to trust strangers, especially if these strangers are killing people for a living. You even thought to run away a few times, but what can you do being a six year old? You definitely won’t survive on the street on your own. So after a little thought you decided to stay, not that you had other options.

La Squadra on the other hand, kept their distance at first. Of course, life didn’t prepare them to be babysitters, but they had no other choice.Therefore that’s why they gave you a separate room and let you be, for now of course. Eventually, you’ll need to find a common ground. Slowly, but surely they began to approach you. Formaggio let you play with his cats whenever you wanted, Prosciutto drove you to school every day, etc. It turns out, they’re not that bad as they seemed.

After a few month you completely stopped being afraid of them. They began to be a real family to you, the one you never had. They would never raise their voice to you, even Ghiaccio, he’s really gentle around you. You can always tell them what’s on your mind, they’ll never judge you. And if you don’t like going to school- you always can be homeschooled by Melone. He’s an awesome teacher so don’t worry, your comfort is their priority.

Time passed and one morning it was just you and Risotto. The others were on missions and they definitely wouldn’t be back until evening. For now, you two just had a delicious breakfast, honestly, you would never thought that Risotto cooks that good.

“Hey dad, can you pass me the salt?”, you asked not even realising your question.

His eyes seemed to light up for a second, he cleared his throat “Sure, here you go”.

Actually he’s so proud about it. He won’t show any unnecessary emoting but god he’s happy. Surely he’ll tell others. Secretly he wants them to be jealous, he’s the first one you referred as “dad” after all. Looking forward to be called like that again!

And one time you and Prosciutto went for groceries, he even promised to buy you what you wanted. Pros went straight to the sections with veggies while you were looking for something you wanted. Finally, you found what you needed! Wasting no time you were already heading to the blond man.

“Hey dad”, you called “Can I have this?”

Prosciutto was too stunned to speak for a moment. He just smiled and patted your head.

“Call me like that again and I’ll buy anything you want”

He won’t tell anyone about it. It’s his happy moment and he has no intentions to share it. Will do anything to hear you call him dad again. He would never thought something small like this will make him so happy.

You and Melone like to read books together. He’s trying to share his love to science with you, nothing creepy of course. Melone always lets you choose whatever theme you want to read about today. And if you have anything you want to ask him, he’ll always be enlighten to answer.

“Hey dad, how fish breathe underwater?”

Melone looked at you in pure shock, immediately taking you in his arms “Can you say that again?”

Oh yes, he would tell everyone! He won’t shut up about that for months. Now he wants to spend even more time with you, just to hear you call him dad. He just loves his baby so much.

Fishing with Pesci is always fun! He would tell you about his and aniki’s adventures, and surely how cool Pros is. You would never thought that you can catch a real fish, but with Pesci’s help it became possible.

“You’re doing such a great job!”, Pesci praised you.

“Thank you, big bro.. Pesci why are you crying?”

Oh yes, he’ll cry. But don’t you worry, these are tears of happiness. Immediately brag to Pros. He’s crying every time you call him like that, Pesci just cannot hide his emotions, not that you want him to.

You like to spend time with Illuso, he styles your hair and tells you all the tea. He’s nice, but don’t tell others!

“So, how do you like your new hairstyle?”, Illuso grinned.

“It’s so cool, you’re amazing dad!”

You just bursted Illuso’s ego to the sky. You.. call him amazing.. and dad. For now will try to impress you even further. He just love to hear praises. And for him your praises are the most valuable.

You and Formaggio are buddies. He always makes you laugh. By this time you two even have some inside jokes.

“Hahah, this one is especially funny dad”

“Dad who”

Congratulations, now he’s trying to make you laugh every time.

You weren’t as close with Ghiaccio as you are now, so you make sure to show him your appreciation because you love him. He may look cold, but he also loves you dearly.

“I love you dad”

“I love you too”

Tries to play it cool. But let’s be honest, now he will think about it for a few weeks. Damn, he needs to express his love to you more.

Sorbet and Gelato consider you as their own flesh and blood. You’re their small and adorable child, they won’t take any excuses. The couple tries to spend as much time with you as they can. And if they’re busy with a mission, they make it up to you by buying something nice.

“We bought you that console you wanted”, Sorbet smiled to you.

“Aren’t you happy?”, Gelato asked.

“I’m so happy, thank you dad and papa!”

Gelato is so hyped up about this whole situation. Everyone will know. For now he’s glued to you, waiting you to call him papa again. Sorbet is not that good with emotions as his husband, but every time you call him dad it brings him joy!

495 notes · View notes

cheegu3 · 24 days

Note

Heloo may I request a enhypen reaction when y/n killed themselves and left a note saying "this is all your fault"

Sorry if this makes you uncomfy

oh not at all, I was only on the fence about writing this bc idk if talking about this topic is allowed on tumblr, but I hope u didn’t feel a lot of anxiety when sending in this ask 😭 it is a little short so sorry abt that :c some of the notes are a bit different too to switch it up!

tw / trigger warning: yandere, dark themes, depression, suicide, self-harm, sad asf, cursing, violence, blood, suicide-note, vomiting, gun

pls do not read if this triggers or offends you or if you're struggling !!

Yandere!Enhypen - reaction to you unaliving yourself

Jungwon

He didn't know how to react when he found you dead. No tears fell down his face as he looked for a pulse, clutching your cold hand in his.

When he spotted a note lying a few meters away, a heavy sigh left his lips and he gave you a pained look.

' This is all because of you. If only you'd treated me like a normal boyfriend would, maybe we could've been soulmates. I hope you feel pain for the rest of your life. '

The more Jungwon stared at the note, blaming him for all of your pain and problems; the more he felt like he had to fight to hold back the tears that were itching to fall.

At the same time, he found a strange anger bubbling inside of him. Not only did you - the love of his life, leave him in this way but you had to wish him pain in your last breath too?

He became blinded by anger. The hand that was holding the note clenched and the paper crumbled under it.

He will try to stay alive just to spite you. Trying his best to move on and get happy, maybe fall in love again and find a family just so he could get his revenge; as you watched from above and realized you meant nothing to him.

But Jungwon never got over you, not really.

Heeseung

He got angry immediately, cussing you out and almost getting the urge to hit you. Instead, he took his anger out on a mirror and felt some sense of relief when he started to bleed.

He blamed himself of course. He had been wrong about how you were feeling, even though he often prided himself on having been able to read you like an open book.

He didn't notice your spark slowly dying out; the more he got angry the more he got jealous, and then the more you were punished for the smallest things.

It got to a point where you couldn't even live in the moment and enjoy the short times when he was a sweet boyfriend again, because you were always scared of what would tick him off a few seconds later.

' I'm sorry, Hee. I was so tired of fighting. I love you,

y/n. '

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He could only manage to hold them back for a few seconds before he doubled over and sobbed loudly.

The room filled with loud wails of pain that would even make angels cry. Anyone that heard it would know just how much he loved you.

Heeseung clutched his chest right where his aching heart felt like it was being ripped out of him. '' I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, '' he kept whispering until he was tired of crying for hours and it turned into shaky murmurs.

He fell asleep, hoping it would be eternal, with your body in his arms; dried tears on his cheeks being replaced by new ones, as even in his sleep he couldn't escape seeing his lover.

Jay

It was the worst phone call he had ever received. He didn't know how to react after it ended, only staring blankly into the distance as his thoughts went crazy.

He needed to see you with his own eyes to believe it so he rushed home. His stomach sank when he spotted the ambulance. Quickly he pushed through the people to get to you.

But when he reached you and saw your lifeless body on the stretcher, he didn't know what to do yet again. A stupid voice inside him told him he should keep his cool in front of all the spectators, even while the love of his life lay dead in front of him.

Did he want to cry, scream, or hold you?

He lowered his eyes to get the image of you like that out of his head. Still in shock, he went inside, locked the doors, and shut the windows' blinds.

He stayed like that for days; barely eating, seeing the sun, or getting out of bed. No matter how bad his depression got and how the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to get further and further away, he still refused to cry.

There was a reason. Your note.

He had seen it while cleaning his house that day he got home. Not wanting to let his thoughts get to him, he started sterilizing and cleaning the whole house. When he then got to the bedroom, a small green note poked out underneath the bed.

He crouched and was about to throw it away until he turned it over and read the first and only line.

' this is all your fault '

And after that, he'd never be the same man again. Most days he wondered if he was even human anymore, he didn't feel anything.

Jake

'' Y/n! I'm home. ''

Jake's face scrunched up as he pouted when you didn't come running to him like usual. Something felt wrong, a bad feeling brewed in his stomach, growing in size the more he moved around in his apartment.

He went further in, peeking around the corners but not calling out for you anymore. It felt better to explain the bad feeling by thinking you were doing something you weren't supposed to, rather than you being hurt; so he moved quietly so he could catch you in the act.

Inside the office, you were nowhere to be found. He guessed you had snuck in there to write to your loved ones or maybe snoop through his stuff. Defeatedly he sighed and moved on, eyes getting caught by the door to the bedroom being slightly open.

Jake stopped in his step and turned back.

'' Y/n? Are you in there? Come out please, I just want to talk, '' he tried, his voice coming out a lot more whiny and desperate than he'd planned.

But he got no response except for silence. His worry grew. One deep breath later he pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

It slowly creaked open, revealing the room little by little. He fell to his knees and gasped.

You were lying in a pool of blood. At first, he felt a surge of anger - who could've done this to you? Then, his attention drifted to the small folded note next to you, and his heart sank.

'' No, please don't say...'' he trailed off, hurrying to unwrap the paper with so much panic that he almost ripped it.

' I wanted to meet my friend one last time, that's all I asked for, but like always it was about what you wanted. We both know that this was all your fault. '

Overcome with despair and grief it wouldn't take long for Jake to join you. He couldn't stand being apart, and he'd find you wherever you were, even in death.

Sunghoon

He felt very angry at you, not himself. Yes, he had dared you to do it while the two of you were in the middle of a screaming match but he hadn't expected you to actually pick up a gun.

The image of you staring at him, tears in your eyes, and that look on your face, which was the last he'd see of you, would forever be etched in his mind.

He couldn't sleep at night. It was like it was burned into the back of his eyes too.

Once your body fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew you were gone without even having to check your pulse.

'' Do it, '' those were his last words to the one person he loved.

He felt sick suddenly, rushing to the bathroom to throw up everything and then some more.

In that bathroom he stayed for hours, just staring blankly at the tiles on the wall, not saying a word or moving an inch. After the sun started setting outside and the light caught his eyes, he finally got up and went to where he had last left you.

You hadn't moved. Sunghoon crouched down next to you and started digging in your pockets for your phone. Something sharp brushed against his palm.

He took it out and saw that it was a note. Unraveling it, he discovered it was a suicide note you must've written a long time ago. Had you always had it on you? Just in case.

' I hate you '

He clenched his fist around the paper, it broke. '' Weak, '' he whispered under his breath and got up.

It was a coping mechanism to place all the anger on you. God knows what he would've done if he started letting that transfer to himself. But, even the anger couldn't stop him from missing you - every single day.

Sunoo

He would blame himself immensely, not having room to be mad at you at all. All that he felt for you was pity and empathy. He tried putting himself in your shoes for the first time and it was a heartbreak he'd never experienced before.

He went to school that day, so excited to see you, only to feel horror as he pushed through the crowd that had formed curiously and saw your body there.

It felt like slow-motion when the wind made you turn and you made eye contact with him. Whispers spread like wildfire all around him, surrounding him completely.

Sunoo felt confused and scared, his eyes darted around anxiously and he tried slipping out. Someone pushed him back.

'' You did this! ''

His head snapped up. A girl, your friend, was standing on the table overlooking the whole classroom. Her eyes were red from crying and in her hand, she was holding something white.

' I'm sorry to do this here, but it's because of my boyfriend, he's controlling and an obsessive, crazy person. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of him. I'm sorry, I love you '

His world fell apart in an instant. He had no idea you'd been feeling like that, why didn't you tell him? He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he came to a realization - you did, and he didn't listen.

He was finally allowed to push through the crowd and run away from the school which he'd never again return to. Tears streamed down his face the whole way home, and they didn't stop even as he reached it.

In his mind, all the ' what if-s ' played. What if he fixed himself and was less obsessive, would you have stayed then? What if he was less jealous, would you have loved him back? What if...what if.

Ni-ki

He tried distracting his mind by both rationalizing it to soften the blow, saying '' we probably weren't made for each other anyway '', and trying to go on dates with other girls.

However, every time he did so, he'd zone out and wish that it was you sitting across from him instead. He started daydreaming which brought a smile to his face until it dropped almost as suddenly as it had come when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't you.

They could never be you.

Suddenly he was angry at them, cursing and telling them to leave him alone and to never text him again.

Deep down he knew he'd never love anyone like you again, and you were actually meant for him; but he hated admitting it and to spare himself from more pain, might never admit it.

That was the thing, you were meant for him. Not anymore; you didn't exist anymore, because of him. He knew that now that his soulmate was gone forever, his bleak days would never be lit up by you again.

Just thinking of that smile, the only one that managed to get through his tough and cold exterior, made him feel like crying or punching something.

He then thought of the note, which he often did, and your body at the morgue because he hadn't come home quick enough to see you, and for that he was grateful; seeing you like that would've driven him to the edge.

The note, the one that read, ' I'm sorry, Riki. I tried, I really did. I love you, -y/n '

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #enha x reader

28 notes · View notes

burningupp · 1 year

Note

hey^^ could you write lee know angst. idk i was thinking maybe childhood bsf to lovers and hurt/comfort. like minho has a crush on reader but reader has a boyfriend. maybe the boyfriend just broke up with them so minho comforts them…

first of all, sorry this took me like 85 years omg

second, i combined these two requests, i hope that's okay! the story is angsty, but has a happy ending (bc i can't handle bad endings lol)

enjoy <3

Minho’s heart was absolutely breaking. Seeing you like this, hunched over in your pajamas and sobbing your heart out… He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was rubbing your back and handing you tissues intermittently, lightly scrunching his nose when you put the snotty paper directly on your bed sheets afterwards. Still, he didn’t say anything.

He had received a call from you at 1:15am, and had fully intended on telling you (fondly, of course) to get lost before hanging up on you. His words had been caught in his throat as soon as he heard your sniffles and muffled sobs, shooting out of bed and starting to get dressed before he even knew what was wrong. Through your sobbing, all Minho could decipher was that your boyfriend had cheated on you, and he had never considered hiring a hitman before, but damn if it didn’t seem tempting.

When he had arrived at your apartment, he had let himself in with the code you had entrusted him with. He kicked his shoes off, not caring where they went as he speed-walked to your bedroom. He had knocked on the door gently, so gently you had barely heard him over your loud sniffles and stuffy nose. You had attempted to make yourself look less pathetic before calling him inside. You had failed miserably.

Of course, to Minho you looked beautiful, even with snot and tears covering half your face. He had gently sunk down next to you on your bed and given you a gentle smile. You had attempted to smile back, but your face ended up screwed up in pain as you remembered the reason why your best friend was interrupting your crying session. His chest felt like it was in a million knots at the sight of you, sobbing and crying and so obviously hurting.

“I’m s-so sorry for c-calling you here,” you got out through sobs, blowing your nose immediately after and depositing the tissue with the others on the bed next to you. It was disgusting, yes, but you did not have the energy to go fetch a trash can. “I know y-you didn’t even l-like him.”

This was true. Minho had always hated your ex, and in his mind, he had good reason to do so. In reality? Prior to today, not so much. He hadn’t realized he was in love with you until you were a good month into your relationship, and honestly, that was on him. The fact that you were in a relationship should have made Minho happy, and mostly, it kind of did; when he didn’t have to see the guy who was making you happy, that was.

Minho himself had always had high standards for himself in relationships. He always made sure to remember his significant other’s schedule, their favorite foods and restaurants, their plans with their friends… Your boyfriend had never done any of this, so he couldn’t help but think that he could treat you better. He had kept his distance, though - you had seemed so happy with the other guy, as much as he personally thought you shouldn’t be.

“I don’t care about him,” Minho scoffed. “I’m here because you’re sad. What the fuck has that got to do with him?”

He knew he sounded angry and resentful. He was. He just hoped you didn’t pick up on the poorly masked jealousy in his voice, because as much as he wanted to finally confess to you now that you were presumably single, you needed time to heal first, and he was more than happy to grant it.

He smiled when you snorted out a laugh; nothing would ever compare to your laugh, your smile. One of the seemingly endless knots in his chest loosened a little. God, he was down bad. His heart hurt when more tears flowed down your cheeks, seemingly without your permission, in spite of your laughter.

“Well, that might be true, but I figured you’d be all smug about it,” you muttered back, glaring at him jokingly.

Minho had never felt such relief as when you stopped stuttering through your sentences and started bantering with him. You were always beautiful to him, but seeing you in pain was more than his heart could handle.

“Mm, I still might be,” he teased back with a shit-eating grin. You scoffed and smacked his shoulder, which he jokingly clutched in mock pain. “Heartbreak makes you strong, what the fuck.”

Briefly, he froze. What if he had said the wrong thing? What if he made you burst into tears again? He was already thinking about ways to punish himself for hurting you (mostly through means of making you happy, which honestly wouldn’t be much of a punishment for him) when you laughed again. The sound loosened yet another knot in his chest. He looked over at you in relief, unable to stop himself from smiling softly at the spark that finally reappeared in your eyes.

“I’m sure it’s the heartbreak, and not you being a wimp.”

He gasped and tackled you to the bed, tickling you mercilessly until you were crying - this time out of laughter. Maybe the knots weren’t endless, after all.

~*~

After spending the night at your apartment, completely unwilling to leave you alone, Minho took you out to get coffee in the morning. He insisted on paying, and since your head felt like it was full of cotton, you didn’t care to argue all that much. Your eyes were puffy and your nose was still a little red from the absolute meltdown you’d had not even 12 hours prior, but you had showered, brushed your hair and put on jeans, so you counted it as a win. Apparently, someone else appreciated your effort. While you were sitting at the table waiting for Minho to bring you your food and coffee, a pretty cute guy approached you.

“Excuse me,” he said gently.

You tore your eyes away from your phone, startled. You had been watching a cute TikTok of kittens - a truly pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better, even if it did make you smile a little - and had not anticipated social interaction. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, but the man just beamed charmingly at you.

“Hi, I’m Hyunjin,” he introduced himself, stretching his hand out for you to shake. You still looked (and felt) confused as you shook his hand and mumbled your name in return, which Hyunjin found very cute. “I’m sorry, I don’t normally do this, but uhm… I was wondering if maybe I could give you my number? I know this might come off as a bit creepy, so I’m sorry if that’s the case.”

His rambling was adorable to you, so just laughed lightly. You didn’t really know what to do with this situation, seeing as you weren’t even technically single yet, much less over your last boyfriend. You figured since you would be the one in possession of the (actually pretty cute) guy’s number, you had nothing to lose really. Plus, honestly, it gave you a bit of an ego boost.

“You’re fine. Uhm, sure, I’ll take your number I guess,” you answered eventually, biting your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Minho was watching the exchange from the counter. He felt like he was losing his one shot with you, especially considering how handsome the guy who was obviously flirting with you was. The stupid guy even got you to smile, despite your last relationship going up in flames mere hours ago. He watched as the guy input his number into your phone, his heart cracking.

“Two lattes and two scones for Minho,” the barista said, handing the boy a tray with his order on it.

Minho snapped out of his reverie and started walking toward the table you had picked out. His timing was perfect, because he didn’t have to interact with the dude - he could barely catch the guy’s quick “hope to hear from you soon” before he had slinked away, grinning like an idiot.

He couldn’t let you know that he was feeling jealous, dejected and heartbroken - those were feelings reserved for you to feel. So, he bravely plastered a smug smirk on his face and teasingly lifted an eyebrow as he approached, the blush coloring your cheeks making his heart speed up without his permission.

“Someone’s got game,” he teased. God, the words felt so wrong to him. He wanted to fall to his knees, wanted to beg you not to look at anyone other than him ever again, wanted to beg for your sunny smile to never leave your face; but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. What you needed was a friend, despite your somewhat positive reaction to what’s-his-face’s advances.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, grabbing your scone from the tray he was putting on the table.

“What, don’t wanna tell me about how you’re less heartbroken because I am amazing?” he teased. You glared at him, your eyes flicking between his face and the butterknife you were holding menacingly. “Calm down there, bucko. Anyway, do you think you’re gonna call him?”

Minho wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but something in him felt the need to ask either way. Maybe he was a masochist; somehow, he felt like not knowing at all would hurt more than knowing. You considered his words for a moment or two, taking a tentative sip of your drink in the meantime. Your beauty struck him hard in that moment - he couldn’t really blame that guy for asking for your number, honestly.

“I don’t know yet,” you sighed as you placed your cup onto the table between you. “I mean, he’s cute, but I don’t even know what’s going on with me and….” You sighed again. “I’ll figure it out.”

As much as Minho wanted you to feel better, he couldn’t help but hope that you wouldn’t text that guy. Maybe he was selfish (he definitely was) but his heart was breaking at the mere thought of watching you enter a new relationship with someone that wasn’t him. If you noticed that his smiles were tighter after that, you didn’t mention it.

~*~

Minho was helping you clean your fridge and freezer out when the subject of your love life came up again. It had only been about a week, but you were already doing much better. You had texted your asshole of an ex to end things the day you went to the café, armed with the knowledge that breaking up over text was nowhere near as bad as cheating on someone. It wasn’t exactly taking the high road, but fuck that - you were hurt and you didn’t want to see him ever again. Minho approved.

“So,” you started, and your best friend hummed from where he was hunched over your freezer. Him “helping” was actually him doing it for you; he knew you hated doing it more than anything, and he would do anything for you. In your defense, you were doing the dishes that had been piling up since your breakup. “I texted Hyunjin today.”

Minho’s movements paused for half a second. “Hyunjin?” he asked. He could only assume it was the guy from the café, but he hoped not.

Actually, he hoped you were just joking and the only person you had texted was him. Not that you weren’t allowed to text others, but his feelings for you had been growing exponentially as you spent more time together over the past few weeks, and considering he had already been very much in love with you, he was down bad. His first thought in the morning always looked suspiciously like your eyes, and his last thought at night usually sounded an awful lot like your laughter when he did something deliberately stupid. Screw down bad, he was falling down a bottomless pit and he just kept gaining speed.

“The guy from the café,” you said, focusing on scrubbing one of the particularly dirty plates. Your best friend took a deep breath in and blocked his unwarranted, jealous thoughts - they could remain in his head all they wanted, but he refused to let them taint his time with you. It was too precious for petty arguments.

“Ah,” he mumbled in reply, pulling out the last shelf from your freezer. When he stood up straight, his back crackled concerningly, making you look up from the sink at him and giggle. He considered doing it again just to hear your laugh again; it made his chest expand with a particular brand of happiness only you had the power to grant him. “Did he respond?”

Did he want to know? No, this time he definitely did not; however, he knew that you would get suspicious if he didn’t ask, so he resigned himself to hearing about it. He figured that even if he couldn’t have you in the way he wanted, he could at least look after you. He had done it before, as much as it had killed him.

“He did,” you answered, and Minho could hear your smile without even looking up. It was bittersweet, you being happy because of someone else.

“So you do have game, I’m impressed,” he teased. Your happiness trumped his, any day of the week.

“Shut up,” you whined and promptly flicked soapy water at him, making him screech like a hyena - mostly to make you laugh, but the water did feel cold as fuck. “We decided to go get coffee together, I guess, but I don’t know how I feel about it.” You turned back to the dishes, scrubbing intently at the same plate.

Even though you said it casually, like it didn’t matter to you at all, Minho heard the tension in your voice. He immediately dropped everything, standing up and turning to you. You always had 100% of his attention (the poor man couldn’t help it) but now he was laser focused. You were feeling bad in some capacity, and he couldn’t stand for it.

“Hey,” he said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. He almost kissed you when you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling and looking so domestic in your rubber gloves. He forced himself to move on. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, okay?”

You nodded distractedly, looking down at the soapy water filled with dishes. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you muttered, “I do. I just… Feel like I’m not done. With… him. He really hurt me, Min.”

The tears in your eyes made him wonder what it would take to hire that hitman he had been thinking about two weeks earlier - it would probably be worth it. No, it definitely would, your happiness was more valuable than literally anything else, ever. He gently placed his arm around your waist, squeezing carefully. You smiled at him, giggling slightly. It was a sad sound, but better than crying.

“I know, baby,” he answered, leaning his head on top of yours as you placed the (finally clean) plate on the drying rack and picked up a wine glass. “Look, if you want to go, you should. Just tell me when you guys are meeting up, and I’ll make sure I’m free and I can come to the rescue if you need me to, yeah?”

You didn’t even blink as you dropped the glass in the sink and threw your arms around your best friend. Your tears spilled over your lower lashes, tracing streaks down your cheeks, but you didn’t care; your best friend was the best person in the entire world.

~*~

Minho was pacing. You were on your date with Hyunjin - was it even a date? - and he was feeling more restless than he had in his entire life. He was glad you had decided that your happiness was more important than the hurt your absolute dick of an ex had caused you, but he couldn’t deny the large cracks in his heart at the thought that he wasn’t the one bringing you said happiness.

When he received a text from you, he jumped to read it and answer it as soon as possible. He started walking toward the door before he even read it, just to be prepared if you needed him to come running.

y/nnie: it’s all good, min! no need to come :)

y/nnie: thank u for looking out for me <3

Oh. Well. He felt relieved as well as disappointed. He pushed the disappointment back as far as he could, hoping to bury it forever. He sat down on the couch and stared at his living room wall as his heart broke. Fuck.

~*~

“So how was your date yesterday?” Minho asked as casually as he could when you met up the next day. He only asked after you had pushed him onto your couch and stuck a facemask on his skin, his head tilted back. He basked in your touch.

“What?” you laughed, shaking your head as you pushed another mask onto your own skin beside him. “Min, it wasn’t a date.”

His mind felt numb. He was trying so hard to force himself not to get his hopes up again, to not allow himself joy for your lack of romantic interest in this Hyunjin guy. He closed his eyes but raised his eyebrows, his head lolling toward you in a manner designed to make you laugh. You did. He felt successful.

“Look,” you sighed. “Hyunjin also thought it was a date at first, and honestly, I thought so too. But then I just… It felt irresponsible and unfair to go on a date when I know for a fact that I am not ready for it, that I’m not emotionally available enough for that. It felt mean, honestly. So we talked, and I told him how I felt, and he said it was all cool. We’re friends now, and I set him up with Ryujin. She was ecstatic, by the way.”

Minho listened carefully to your explanation. He always listened to you, but this time he really analyzed every single word that spilled from your lips. He opened his eyes to look at you once you went silent, his chest filling with butterflies when your form registered in his brain. You were wearing sweatpants and a tank top, your hair a complete and utter mess on top of your head and looking like some kind of bank robber because of your facemask; and yet, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

If you had been dating, he’s pretty sure he would have proposed just like that. Just ask you. Because that was so you and Minho, it epitomized your relationship; easy, casual, no need for embellishment or pretense. Just… you. And him. He hoped he would get the opportunity to propose to you one day.

“I’m sure she was,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. You snorted, and he fell deeper.

“Anyway,” you continued, “Hyunjin is a cool guy. We just didn’t… click like that. And even if we did-” you stopped yourself, shaking your head with a sigh. “He’s not for me. I’m not ready now.”

“You know,” Minho started gently, making you look into his eyes. He smiled a little at the thought of how you must look, both covered in facemasks and gazing into each other’s eyes softly. You sunk back on the couch and leaned your head back over the back, just like he was doing. “I don’t think you will be ready to date until you have a conversation with Fuckface McGee.”

His uncreative name for your ex made you burst into laughter, and Minho felt like he could fly. You looked beautiful like that, head tilted back, eyes scrunched up and mouth open in unabashed laughter. He filed the image away in his mind along with the countless other precious memories he had with you.

“You might be right,” you said when you had sobered up, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips. “Maybe I should… talk to him. Meet him.”

The room was silent for a while. He felt your hand sneak closer to his, and he grabbed it without hesitation. You often sought comfort from him like that, finding physical contact with him steadying. The silence was nice, comfortable and thick with unspoken affection for one another and the relationship you had. Minho started to feel sleepy.

When the timer went off, signalling for you to take the facemasks off, you shuffled into the bathroom together. As you were stood side by side, he caught your gaze in the mirror. He saw the discomfort, the insecurity and the pain that filled you and gave you the smile that never failed to fill you with calm.

“Again,” he said, “let me know when you’re meeting and I’ll make sure that I’m available.”

Your heart clenched.

~*~

“I met up with him today,” you said offhandedly as you watched a movie together a few weeks later.

It took a few seconds for the meaning of your words to sink in, but when they did Minho’s entire body stiffened. He didn’t need to ask who - your tone (combined with the proverbial storm cloud that seemed to have made its home above your head for the day) clued him into the fact that you were talking about your cheating scumbag of an ex. He didn’t know what to do. He had spent the past weeks helping you recover from what that asshole did to you, but he hadn’t actually asked you where your relationship stood. He decided that the best approach was to be nonchalant, objective; just be there for whatever you had decided to do. Even if it might kill him.

He knew he was being dramatic - he had seen you in a relationship before, it wasn’t new to him. The problem was that he finally felt like he could breathe now that he didn’t have to see you be in love with someone who wasn’t him, when he could finally start to cautiously give you hints about his feelings. He was sure you didn’t notice his advances, if you could even call them that. He was too much of a coward to do much.

“Okay,” he answered slowly, waiting for you to continue without taking his eyes away from the TV. He had no idea what was happening on screen. “I thought you were going to let me know when you were meeting? Did it go okay?”

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled humorlessly, “we did not get back together. Nor will we ever.” He felt like fist-pumping the air. “I just decided that I deserved closure, and went in there with that attitude.”

“You do,” he agreed, finally turning to look you in the eyes. “What he did was fucked up, Y/n. Never forget that.”

You laughed lightly and nodded, ruffling his hair a little. You turned around and rested your back against his chest, continuing to watch the movie. Minho wouldn’t be able to do that if he wanted, the weight of you against him combined with the smell of you too much for him. He prayed you couldn’t feel his heart beating against your back and did his best to relax and savor the moment.

“Actually,” you hesitantly spoke up after a minute or two, “he told me something.”

“Oh?” he hummed back, fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. It was so soft.

“He, uh, he thinks you have feelings for me,” you mumbled, reaching down to play with the hem of your shirt.

Minho’s entire body went rigid. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He did have feelings for you - actually, scratch that, he was full-on in love with you. He wanted to date you, move in with you, marry you, have kids with you and grow old with you. Without you in his life, everything looked bleak. Could he really tell you, though? What if it made you uncomfortable? What if you thought that all these weeks of him helping you get over Fuckface McGee was some sort of plan to woo you? It wasn’t, he hoped you knew that, but…

He was scared, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of finally letting his feelings out. Being able to tell you felt like a huge relief, no matter the outcome. He decided to let the excitement win.

“I- uhm.”

Okay. Fucking great start, Minho. Truly fantastic stuff.

“I told him he was crazy, of course, but… Do you? Like me, I mean. As more than a friend.”

Your voice was so small, so careful, and he hated that you were holding back. You never held back with him, and he never wanted you to. He wanted to know everything about you, every single thought that went through your head. For once, prioritizing your feelings over his own meant that he could prioritize himself, too.

“I do.”

The answer made it feel like time was standing still. You were frozen, staring up at him. He was frozen, staring right back. He couldn’t breathe. The TV chattering on in the background faded away, feeling almost alien in the tense moment where nothing else seemed to move.

After at least 30 seconds of silence, Minho decided that he’d had enough. He took your stunned silence as a rejection, and knew that he would need to move on. That was okay, as long as he got to have you in his life as a friend.

“Y/n, it’s literally okay if you don’t feel the same. I will be in your life in whatever capacity you want me to be. I get it if you need a break from spending time with me while I sort my feelings out, but-”

“Please don’t.”

Your words made him stop. What the hell did that mean? Did you want him to stop talking? He could feel all his earlier bravado slowly exit his body, and decided to let you take the reins. As long as you were comfortable in every situation with him, he couldn’t care less what happened between you.

“I didn’t mean- I don’t-” You stopped and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean for you to stop talking. I always want to hear what you have to say, so I’m sorry it came out like that. I meant… please don’t sort your feelings out. Unless sorting them out means that you want to be with me. Because I have been in love with you for years, and you’ve been so great these past few weeks that I-”

Your word-vomit was interrupted by your best friend’s lips on yours. He would apologize once he was finished kissing you, he would, but he couldn’t be held responsible for this reaction. He had been wanting to kiss you for so long, had been in love with you for so long, and it was finally reciprocated. You would forgive him. Hopefully.

Your lips were soft and warm against his, and you tasted like the strawberry chapstick you always wore as well as the chocolate popcorn you were eating during the movie. He would put up with your gross chocolate popcorn as long as you would be his. He couldn’t help the borderline moan that he exhaled when you kissed him back, and he definitely couldn’t stop the butterflies in his chest from erupting when he felt you smile against his lips. He was getting dizzy, but he wouldn’t stop; he couldn’t. You. You liked him. You liked him.

After a minute or two, you pulled away, breathing hard. The kiss hadn’t been particularly raunchy, but he always managed to steal your breath no matter what he did, so it didn’t surprise you that you were lacking oxygen after a simple kiss.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw the sparkles in them - the sparkles that you adored, the ones that would come out when he talked about his cats, his friends, and his latest experiment in the kitchen. The sparkles that only came out when he was truly happy. You couldn’t get any oxygen in your lungs if you tried, so you just collapsed against his chest, your face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Minho’s entire body erupted in goosebumps as he felt your breath brushing against the skin of his neck. He wrapped you in his arms as tight as he could, a big, dumb, dopey grin on his face. He was holding you. He had kissed you. You felt the same. He was flying.

“Please tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Only if you want to be, of course, but I would really, really like it if you were mine. If I was yours.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought of him being yours sending your mind into an absolute frenzy. You extracted your face from his neck and looked into his eyes again, your legs turning to jello. Thank fuck you were laying down.

“I’m yours, Minho. And you’re mine.”

Your best friend - well, boyfriend - grinned so big he felt like his face was going to split in half. He couldn’t help himself and planted a big kiss on your lips again. You melted into him, resting comfortably against his chest. You felt safe and warm, and like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Minho’s heart, which had been cracking continually for the past month, was healed. It was pounding against his chest, reminding him of the fact that he was alive and breathing, and that you loved him back.

a/n: thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it. i would really appreciate if you liked and/or reblogged my fics, as it encourages me to keep writing <3

#lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho angst #lee minho fluff #lee know angst #lee know fluff #1.5k celebration #thank you for asking

123 notes · View notes

lyrakanefanatic · 4 months

Text

Songs that I think would fit phone girl and graysons relationship pt. 2!!

dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift: I remember a mutual saying this in the comments of my last “songs i think would fit PG and graysons relationship” post but I can’t remember who, I think it was @reminiscentreader but I’m rlly not sure sorry 😭😭

“I, I loved you in secret” I imagine that they would keep their “situation” (i have a good feeling they will like kiss or something like that but then the next day will pretend like nothing happened or something pushes them apart?? Idk it’s a trilogy so jlb can’t give them a relationship right away) a secret from the hawthornes and the other contestants for a while when they do become official, but nash catches on first

“first sight, yeah, we love without reason” it was technically love at first sight bc gray kind of had feelings for PG when she first called him, when usually it wasn’t love at first sight for his past relationships (which is how u know they’re gonna be endgame 😍)

“My, my love had been frozen, deep blue, but you painted me golden.” basically how his past relationships had left him heartbroken and “blue” but when he met phone girl he really started to fall for her which “painted him golden”

“I, I loved you in spite of, deep fears that the world would divide us” grayson afraid of something tearing him and PG apart and almost expecting something to happen, or just expecting himself to drive her out like he did with his past relationships (😭😭)

“I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that you wanted” grayson literally says (when he’s describing his “girlfriend” to Gigi in the brothers hawthorne) that his supposed girlfriend, “wasn’t perfect, and when im with her, I don’t have to be either.” so this is very fitting LOL

fallen star by the neighborhood: yes, im only putting this one here bc I saw an edit that @herondalesbooklover posted and I liked the audio, so whatever sue me 😔

“I’ll keep you far away from me, like a star” Graysons habit of driving the people he loves out, and I can see him distancing himself away from PG bc he’s scared of falling in love again 💔

“Hard not to fall for you, I gave you all my heart” again, its Grayson trying (and failing) to not fall for phone girl, even though he knows she has his heart and always will 💗💗😜

“Further apart, the closer, the closer, the closer that we are” he’ll try not to get close to her, but he can’t keep himself away for too long and I have a feeling he’ll find himself getting attached and unable to block her out like he usually does with the people he loves

“You’re in my dna, I can’t keep away no matter how hard I try” like I said with ⬆️ one, he’ll try to keep her away but no matter how hard he tries, he will always find himself coming back to her (😭😭💗💗)

“I’m on a one way train and it’s far away, but you’re still on my mind” grayson will always run back to her every. single. time. just because of how much he loves her 💕😭

i can see you by taylor swift: this song is kinda averyjameson too but whatever i feel like it’d be fitting for PG and grayson too

“You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think, I, I, I can see you, do you?” I don’t rlly have a reason behind this line but “you brush past me in the hallway” would fit the kind of “professional” setting they have going on 😍

“I’ve been watching you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it.” Okay PG hasnt really been “watching” him for ages but she has been kind of calling him and checking up on him, (for the riddle lmao) plus I feel like she’d try to deny the fact that she likes gray bc of her fathers death being somewhat related to the hawthornes

“But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?” Again, i feel like they’d keep their “relationship” a secret from everybody else until they become official

“And we kept everything professional, but somethings changed, something I, I like” Graysons probably gonna be a “helper” in the games so I feel like he’d try to keep a professional air with PG at first until he starts to develop feelings (not like he already didnt have feelings for her when she just called him LOL)

“They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best that we move fast and keep quiet” Okay but just think about how many people are on that island (there’s probably some maids, bodyguards, the hawthornes, and ofc the contestants) and then having to keep ur relationship a secret with all those people around 😭😭 but anyways once people start to kind of catch on, they’ll definitely pay closer attention to PG and gray just to see if the rumours are true

“I could see you in your suit and your necktie” suit. necktie. literally couldn’t have been anymore obvious 💀💀

“Passed me a note saying, ‘meet me tonight’” to discuss clues for the game or to do other things.. 😜

“Then we kiss, and you know I won’t ever tell, yeah” again, it’s just them keeping their relationship a secret from the other contestants + hawthornes

gorgeous by taylor swift: I haven’t listened to this song in a while but I did a few days ago and just realized how much it sounds like PG and gray omg 🫢

“You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk” probably just her mocking how “self obsessed” he sounds and also how he just expects to get what he wants and just the phrase “the world bent to the will of grayson hawthorne” 💀

“You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong” this man does have a strong magnetic field, bc tell me why every girl he’s ever talked to likes him? 💀😭 (including phone girl 🤭)

“You’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much” this is so phone girl towards grayson omg.

“Whiskey on ice, sunset and vine, you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine” his family did kind of ruin her life, but add a romantic twist 😍

“You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face, cause look at your face” grayson definitely is gorgeous, and I know phone girl found him attractive too 🫢 (who wouldn’t)

“And I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way” ofc she’d be mad she has a crush on him, his grandfather was probably the reason her dad died 😭

“But what can I say? You’re gorgeous” 🤭.

“You should take it as a compliment that I’m talking to everyone here but you” probably PG trying to avoid grayson for a bit after she realizes she likes him

“And you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room” maybe at an event, or that masquerade ball, graysons hand brushes against PG or he holds it while dancing and she gets butterfliesss 🤭🤭💗

“If you’ve got a girlfriend I’m jealous of her, but if you’re single that’s honestly worse” I feel like she would be jealous of his “girlfriend”, eve, but would also be like “what. 😧” when he says he’s single bc HOW??!

“Ocean blue eyes looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die” ik shes crushing hard on those ocean orbs of his 🤭

“There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have” she “can’t have” him bc Tobias was apparently behind her fathers death, which is why she tries to deny she likes him

“You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad” her being mad she likes him 💀

OKAY THATS ALL, IDK WHY GORGEOUS IS SO DAMN LONG BUT WTV 😜

#phone girl and grayson #phone girl #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game #taylor swift #dancing with our hands tied #fallen star #i can see you #gorgeous #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu

43 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 1 year

Text

What A Time To Be Alive

I just need someone to hold me, even though you don't even know me

Summary: The prompt was: Modern AU where Lucien is a tiktoker who posts POVs and Elain always wants to duet them to be the love interest he’s talking to but she doesn’t bc how could he ever be interested in a girl like her… UNTIL SHE DOES

Note: Big thanks AND dedicated to @ablogofbipanic who thought she could give me unwritable prompts. I'll write anything.

Read on AO3

Elain Archeron recognized that deck. Recognized the parking lot below and, when the camera zoomed out for a moment, recognized the white coup sitting in a patch of hot California sun. That was her apartment complex broadcast to an audience of one point two million people.

And her upstairs neighbor filming another tiktok.

Jackinthefox. Everyone thought his name read Jack, but Elain knew his name was actually Lucien Vanserra given how often his mail was shoved into her slot. Mostly junk coupled with the occasional energy bill. Lucien, with his sun kissed, golden brown skin and auburn hair that fell past his shoulders. She’d caught him in the basement gym once, lifting weights in a shirt so loose she could see all the carved muscle just beneath.

She’d started working out at night to avoid him.

It seemed Elain couldn’t avoid him on tiktok, though. No matter how quickly she swiped through his videos on her feed, they always came back. Look at me, they seemed to demand. Look at how handsome I am.

Yeah, yeah. Lucien was absurdly good looking, a fact he must have been well aware of. To his credit, he didn’t react to the thirst comments people left for him like other tiktokkers. And he always kept his shirt on, which honestly was a crime. If the women following him learned what lurked beneath, they’d riot.

Lucien did dance, occasionally, though always to 90’s boybands—Elain liked those videos best, not that she’d ever admit it. What Lucien did, primarily, were POV’s to popular television shows. Usually the Office, though he did a fair amount of New Girl, too. And women practically lined up to duet him, hoping to be the Jim to his Pam.

While Lucien had exploded in popularity during quarantine, Elain had a more modest following of ten thousand people following her for her aesthetic baking videos. And while Elain had a good time baking bread in cute aprons in front of her window, what she secretly wanted was to duet Lucien back.

She didn’t have the guts. What was worse, she thought, was duetting him, being ignored, and having to give him his mail when it was inevitably put in her box again. He’d know she had a crush on him and probably laugh behind her back.

Or maybe not—but Elain didn’t dare risk it. Not when she had one of the last affordable and nice units left in California. Close to the beach, within walking distance of her favorite grocery store…and with the hot, upstairs neighbor.

It was hot that day, which made going to the store a miserable venture. Elain was making lemon bars and had run out of nearly everything. If there was a hell, surely it was hauling massive canvas bags of flour, sugar, and lemons in the California heat. By the time she reached her building, Elain was drenched in sweat. In the distance, she could hear the screaming laughter of children in the pool, and the smell of chlorine blew in on a rubber and asphalt scented breeze.

She just wanted to get inside the cold building, to park herself naked in front of a fan, and stay there until winter arrived.

Elain went to yank open the glass door and drag herself up the flight of stairs to her unit. She fumbled with the metal handle, hot beneath the sun and her sweaty fingers.

“I’ve got it,” called a familiar, masculine voice. Honeyed and deep, rich and warm like the day she was so desperate to flee, Lucien Vanserra must have had one of the nicest voices she’d ever heard. A moment later he’d wedged his towering frame in the door so she could slip past. Lucien’s russet colored eyes slid to the bags hanging from her shoulders.

“Want help?” he asked, reaching for one of the straps.

Elain tried to protest— “No, I’ve got it—”

But he’d already taken two bags in one hand like it was nothing to him. He reached for the other two and suddenly Elain was freed of her obligations. She knew he saw how she exhaled with relief, a smile quirking over his full lips. Lucien was in another loose tanktop and basketball shorts.

Like herself, Lucien was slick with sweat, which made her feel a little better. They were both disgusting, which somehow put them on equal footing.

“What are you baking today?” he asked with a sidelong glance. Elain’s eyebrows shot skyward. She followed him up the purple carpeted steps, a relic from some mythical time period in which purple carpet made sense. Though, it did add a certain charm to the otherwise beige, fingerprint stained walls.

“What do you know about my baking?” Elain asked, hoping she sounded appropriately flirty and not breathless with wonder.

“I know that I tried those cranberry bars you posted last week and they turned out like shit.”

“That sounds like user error,” she replied, trying so hard not to grin. He watched her videos? Elain could have died.

“Oh, if definitely was,” he said cheerfully, keeping easy pace with her. “They tasted good, though. What are you making today?”

She swore those eyes of his looked hungry. “Lemon bars.”

Still, he grinned. “Can’t wait to fuck those up, too.”

She could have invited him in. As they reached the landing and her door a mere three steps away, Elain could have asked Lucien to help her bake. Lord knew he would have looked great on camera, even if no one ever saw her face on tiktok. They had to follow her on instagram for that. Still, Lucien’s hands were big and broad and her mostly female audience probably would have liked seeing them as much as Elain liked watching him hold her groceries.

She didn’t invite him in. The words got tangled in her throat, jumbled so when she dug her keys out of her pocket, she heard herself say, “Well…thank you for the help.” “Anytime,” Lucien replied smoothly, handing her the bags without complaint. He didn’t look around her to try and get a glimpse of her apartment, nor did he offer to come in and help. Elain appreciated that so much, though it was truly a low bar in terms of not being pushy.

“Catch you around,” he said with a wink, turning back for the steps. Elain admired the shifting muscles of his back for a moment—just until he rounded the corner. His thundering steps seemed to clear her head, if only a little.

He was just being neighborly. Friendly.

He watched her videos.

The first thing she did the second she got inside was whip out her phone. And sure enough, buried in her notifications, was Lucien Vanserra quietly liking months of baking videos. How many had he made? All those months of agonizing about dueting him while he was liking all her videos and making her recipes…Elain felt giddy.

She felt like pulling out her ring light, after showering and carefully applying her make up, and dueting his latest video.

New Girl.

Elain loved New Girl.

LUCIEN:

Flopped on his couch, phone on the coffee table, Lucien replayed the afternoon in his mind. He’d been looking for an excuse to talk to Elain for the better part of a year. Ever since her sourdough video popped up on his for you page. He’d been in a dark place then—a new transplant to California for grad school, lonely and now quarantined before he’d had the chance to make new friends. Lucien had never felt so isolated in his life. His whole life was on the east coast, and even if he’d wanted to drop out and go home, there were no flights to take him.

He sure as shit wasn’t making that drive, either. So Lucien did what everyone else did, and began mindlessly scrolling tiktok. He’d recognized the kitchen those delicate hands worked in, and though it made him feel a little creepy, he’d followed the link in her bio to her instagram page only to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his entire life living directly beneath him.

Lucien had tried to stage several run-ins with her. At the gym, in the parking lot, even at the pool though it was closed. Elain had never taken the bait. In fact, she barely looked at him at all. Lucien supposed, with a face as beautiful as hers, he simply didn’t register. That didn’t stop him from trying.

And when he couldn’t make conversation with her in person, Lucien turned back to the internet. He ordered a ring light off amazon and made his first video, hoping she’d see it like he’d seen hers. He’d heard her watching New Girl through the vents so he knew she liked it.

After a year, though, Lucien was starting to think it was time to give up on Elain Archeron. Maybe she had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t her type. Hell, maybe she didn’t even like men. They were still in lockdown, still only supposed to go out for essentials, and maybe Elain didn’t want to risk getting sick on his account.

Lucien had sworn he was going to give up. His titkok had blown up by that point—surely she must have seen him at least once. Must have realized he was her neighbor. She could have liked one of his videos if she’d wanted, and she hadn’t.

All that changed with a little ding of his phone. Lucien reached for it, replaying walking her up to her apartment. She’d looked so good, with her golden brown curls stuck to her sweaty forehead, and how the heat had caused the yellow of her strappy sundress to conform to her tan skin. Lucien had forced his eyes forward and his mind anywhere but how she might look beneath him, just as sweat soaked and flushed. How those little, panting breaths might feel against his neck and fuck he had been so close to asking if she wanted help baking before he’d retreated, half hard just from the nearness of her.

He needed to think about something else. Lucien picked up his phone, illuminated in the last pinky rays of daylight pouring through the sliding glass of his balcony doors. Flipping open his phone, Lucien’s heart leapt into his throat.

Areyoubreadyforit dueted your video!

Lucien’s hands all but shook as he watched. She’d changed into a pretty blue top—or dress, he couldn’t tell—and lipsynced through the words, talking to him. Gorgeous, like always, bright eyed and confessing her pretend feelings for him through the medium of a POV video.

Be cool, he told himself even as he slipped on his shoes. Don’t do anything stupid.

Famous last words as Lucien went outside into the dry heat for the escape ladder that would take him straight down to the parking lot.

Or her deck, a floor below.

This is charming, he told himself, well aware he was skirting the line of crazed upstairs stalker. Why not go down the hall and knock on her front door? It was too late—the minute his feet hit the wood, Elain Archeron looked up from the kitchen. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, cheeks covered in a light dusting of flour.

Lucien raised his hand and mouthed, hey.

Elain came to the door, wiping her hands on a pretty pink and white dotted apron. “Hey,” she said, clearly surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied. What Lucien really wanted to say was I like you, but that felt too much given he was standing on her deck like a maniac all because she’d dueted one video. “I ah—I came to see if you wanted any help. With your bars, I mean.”

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes sweeping over his body. He’d showered after the gym, and still he felt self conscious as he pressed a hand to his stomach through the white fabric of his shirt. “I was actually about to make dinner.”

Lucien’s stomach fell for only a moment as Elain added, “Do you like chicken?”

“I love chicken,” he replied, unwilling to admit he would have eaten trash if she offered it. “Anything to watch the famous Elain Archeron cook.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “Hardly. I think it’s you who is famous, right?”

Lucien followed her into her apartment. The set up was the same—a living room that opened into a kitchen, and a hall that he knew would lead to both a bedroom and a bathroom. Every night, she laid just beneath him.

Maybe tonight, too, if he was lucky. That seemed distinctly like pushing things and yet Lucien still hoped as he closed the door behind him.

“Hardly,” he said, flashing her a smile. She didn’t realize all those followers were merely a monument to his crush on her. Elain glanced over her shoulder, still in the blue dress from the video.

“I guess you saw my duet?”

Her blush was so pretty. Lucien could do nothing but follow after her and try and keep his jaw off the floor. Did she know? Did Elain have any clue the effect she had on him merely by existing? That he wanted to wipe the flour off her face with his tongue?

“It was cute,” he said, bracing his elbows against the counter so he could watch. She wasn’t lying about the chicken—she was currently tying twine around an entire bird she’d seasoned rather nicely. “What took you so long?”

She scoffed. “It was the first interesting video you’d made all year.”

So she had seen them. Lucien’s heart was pounding in his chest. Oh god, oh god, oh god— “Tell me what interests you so I can better curate your experience.”

“I liked the Backstreet Boys videos,” she said, the pretty menace.

“Yeah? And if I make them again, are you going to dance with me?”

Her whole face was flaming red. Elain ducked, sliding her pan into the oven as she said, “I don’t know the steps.”

“I can teach you.” Fuck, Lucien could teach her anything she wanted to know—the steps to cheesy 90’s boy band music, how he liked to be kissed—

“I’ll bet you could,” she replied, those eyes cutting right through him. “Did you come down here to hit on me?”

“That depends,” Lucien grinned back, letting his gaze slide to her mouth. “Do you find it charming or creepy?”

Elain angled her chin as she contemplated. “Charming,” she declared with a pretty smile. Fuck Lucien had to fist his hands at his sides to keep himself casual and in place.

Leaned against the laminate counter, Lucien didn’t dare let his eyes drift below her neck though he fucking wanted to really look at her.

“Does it count as a date if you do all the cooking?”

Elain exhaled a puff of air. “Do you want this to be a date?”

God, Lucien wanted nothing else. He offered her what he prayed was a roguish smile. “Yeah, actually.”

She hesitated. “For…for content?”

“Because I’ve had a pathetic crush on you ever since I moved in,” he replied easily. There was no way in hell he was going to let her think his interest was about titkok fame. One day Lucien would be a lawyer, his tiktoks a blurry memory—his hobby when the world had shut down and nothing more. He had no interest in being an influencer or an actor.

His interest was standing directly in front of him wearing a blue sundress and smeared in flour.

“Oh,” she murmured, her face pink again. “I guess this could be a date. I do have some wine I got from Costco.”

“My favorite,” he lied—again, Lucien would have drank sewer water if she was offering. “I can plan the next date, make it more romantic.”

“Next date?” she teased, pulling out two wine glasses. “You’re awfully confident.”

Lucien only shrugged, at a loss for words. “Hedging my bets.”

Elain offered him a glass of red and when Lucien took a drink, he could hear his older brothers sneering words in his head—grape drink—Eris called anything under one hundred dollars that.

The alcohol took some of the edge off his nerves. Elain was closer than she’d ever been willingly, standing in front of him with that glass pressed to her lips. Lucien wanted to be it, wanted to know what it felt like to have her touch him like that.

“That’s awfully bold,” she said, her voice light and breathless. Fuck fuck fuck.

Lucien set his glass to her nice, round table before he dared a step closer. She was so much shorter than him, would have to lean up on her tiptoes to kiss him if she wanted. God how he hoped she wanted to.

“Isn’t the saying fortune favors the bold?” he murmured, brushing a curl from her cheek. Her skin was so soft, so warm beneath his fingertips. “Maybe it’ll favor me, too.”

Elain looked up through dark, thick lashes. “That was corny.”

He cocked his head as she dared a step toward him and oh my god, this was happening. Lucien didn’t dare breathe when she angled her chin, her thick cascade of hair falling down her shoulders. Eyes bright with invitation. All he had to do was not fuck this up. Just one kiss, which was more than he’d had for an entire year, despite wanting her that long.

“All that matters is that my corny line worked,” he replied, reaching for her cheek. Lucien threaded his fingers through her hair before lowering himself to her. She surged upward, meeting him in the middle for what he thought was the most perfect first kiss in the history of first kisses. She smelled like rosemary and tasted like sugared lemon. Her mouth was soft, her fingers curling against his biceps as she reached for something to steady herself.

It was over far too quickly. Lucien wanted to yank her against him. To haul her up on the table and declare she was the only meal he was interested in. Already, his body was far tighter than he would have liked—all the blood he needed to form sentences was currently rushing to his cock.

Elain smiled as she lowered herself back to the ground. “So uh…dinner?”

Lucien’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull at the breathless way she said those words.

“I’m yours to command,” he said stupidly. “Tell me where you want me.”

He didn’t miss how her eyes darted toward the hall. He’d go, if she told him to. Lucien would lay flat on the bed and let her do every depraved thing she was thinking of—he’d thank her for it, even. Lucien didn’t care what it was, as long as they were both naked and— “Bread?” she was saying, though she, too, sounded far away.

“Yeah,” he replied, praying she didn’t look down at his shorts. “Whatever you want.”

ELAIN:

Whatever you want.

What she wanted was for Lucien Vanserra to take off his shirt and let her lick the line between his abs straight to his— “How is this?” he asked, pulling out a loaf pan of bread he’d been working on.

“It’s good,” she lied. It was sagging in the middle, but not a bad first try given they were both distracted. It had been one polite kiss. One kiss.

One kiss where he’d cupped her whole face in the palm of his hands. Now she knew he smelled like sunshine and woodsy smoke and how his arms felt beneath her fingers. It was too much knowledge for her small kitchen and her overactive imagination. Lucien was being perfectly polite, unaware that Elain was trying to figure out how to get him into her bedroom.

Did she just ask? Did she say, hey Lucien, do you want to have sex with me—

What happened if he said no? Elain didn’t think she could stand the rejection after that kiss. She wouldn't just have to move out of her building, but the whole state if she wanted to escape him. While she carved the chicken, Lucien refilled their wine glasses and set the table, glancing over at her surreptitiously. Likely wondering why she was acting so strange.

Lucien had a talent for keeping the conversation going which Elain immensely appreciated. She didn’t have to think about what to say—not when he so effortlessly had a comeback for everything she said. He maintained eye contact and somehow managed to be funny and laid back and charming.

She should have sent him home. He was dangerous. Elain had the distinct feeling that a man like Lucien Vanserra could very easily ruin her life. Which was why, when dinner was over and a third glass of wine seemed ruinous, Elain meant to say, You should probably go home.

But what she actually said was, “Do you want to stay and watch a movie?”

Lucien’s eyes gleamed. “Of course.”

God, he knew. He knew what she was trying to do when he slid off his tennis shoes and padded to the couch, one strong arm slung over the back of the white sofa. “Something scary,” he told her when she began scrolling, so close her arm was brushing his chest.

“Subtle,” she joked, daring to look up at him. That was a mistake. Lucien’s expression seemed to burn, lips parted as though that were the only way for him to get in enough oxygen. She felt the same—worse, maybe, when his fingers gripped her chin gently, tilting her face toward him.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” he said, his mouth brushing hers. “In fact, I’d like to be a lot less subtle. Skip the movie and ask me to stay with you tonight.”

“What about the second date?” she asked, afraid if she slept with him, he’d go back to ignoring her.

“We’ll start when we wake up. I was thinking a picnic,” he panted, his thick, long hair forming a curtain around them.

“You’re just saying that so I’ll invite you into the bedroom.”

Lucien smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. “You have no idea, Elain. Absolutely no idea how long I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

“How long?” she challenged, wondering why she was still dragging this out. All she wanted was to kiss him again. Longer, this time. Long enough all her good sense evaporated beneath the heat of his body.

“When did I create that account, again?” he asked. She opened her mouth to call him a liar and Lucien pressed his advantage. This kiss was not like before. There was no hesitance, not tentative, polite pressing of the lips. Lucien knew he had her—or, perhaps he was afraid she’d come to her senses and he needed to take what he could before that happened.

All Elain knew was one moment she’d been about to speak and the next his mouth was slanted against her own. One of his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap before Elain could protest.

As if she would have. Elain was too quick to straddle his waist, well aware she was in a dress and the only thing keeping her from being fully bare against him was a thin strip of cotton already wet from the kiss before. Not that Lucien seemed to be faring much better given the moment she was seated against him, she could feel his own erection poking up through his shorts.

Good, she thought with delight. Arms wrapped around his neck, Elain kissed him like she, too, was never going to get another shot at him. His tongue swept into her mouth, pulling the most embarrassing, unexpected moan from her throat.

Beneath her, Lucien seemed to buck unintentionally. He held her tighter, pushing her against him until his straining cock was lined up with her perfectly. It was experimental, to roll her hips against his shorts. Just to see what would happen if she did.

Lucien groaned. Loud and sweet, right into her mouth, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress in an attempt to get her to do it again. It had been so long since Elain had kissed anyone—even before quarantine and the pandemic, Elain hadn’t been with anyone since she’d broken up with her ex.

It was good, the taste of him in her mouth and his hands on her body. Knowing he wanted her, had wanted her maybe as long as she’d wanted him. That they were in this little hell together, desperate and needy. Elain arched again, rubbing herself against the hard slap of his body until Lucien pulled his mouth off her.

“Elain, Elain have mercy. Please,” he panted, sweeping his thumbs over her cheeks as he gulped down air. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

She didn’t believe him, rolling against his erection again. Lucien threw his head back, moaning while his back arched up off the couch. He was so absurdly hot, so ridiculously sexy. She yanked at his shirt, lifting it over his chest and throwing it to the floor.

“Maybe I want you to come,” she replied, hands gliding down the muscular planes of his body.

Lucien’s dark eyes fell on her and in one smooth, fluid motion, he had them both on their feet.

Well, he was on his feet. She was in his arms while he strode purposefully through her apartment to her bedroom.

“How do you know where I sleep?” she asked when he tossed her to the rosy duvet.

He angled his head toward the ceiling. “Same layout. How many nights have you laid just below me, touching that pretty pussy of yours, Elain?”

“Almost as many as I’ve touched myself thinking about you,” she dared to reply. Lucien doubled over, hands gripping the edge of the bed frame to steady himself. She gestured toward her nightstand, determined that her night with Lucien would live up to how she’d imagined it. “Would you like to see?”

He groaned again. “Yes. Show me.”

Elain sat up, eyes never leaving Lucien’s face as she reached behind her for the zipper. She had to stand to shimmy out of her dress, noting how white his knuckles were. He was clearly holding to the wood for dear life, which made stripping all the more fun. The wine helped with her nerves, leaving her own hands steady as she removed her bra and then so, so slowly, pulled her underwear to her ankles.

“Fucking christ,” he whispered, breathing through his nose like a wild, near feral animal.

“Don’t move,” she reminded him as she laid herself back out on the bed. She’d get herself mostly there, she told herself. Spreading apart her thighs, Elain let Lucien see her fully unclothed just like she’d imagined.

“What’s in the drawer?” he asked when she raked her nails lightly over her parted legs.

“Things that vibrate. Do I need one?” she asked him, thinking she likely did.

“Not tonight,” he whispered, his gaze fully on her pussy. “I have other ideas.”

Elain’s fingers slid through the wetness coating her skin and Lucien whimpered. “What ideas?” she asked, rubbing slow circles over her clit. In truth, she rarely touched herself like this, preferring the ease of vibrating toys. It was fun to tease him, though. To see his obvious want written all over his face. To see the straining bulge in his shorts.

Lucien, as if reading her mind, yanked them off over his hips, kicking them onto the floor without looking. It was Elain’s turn to whimper at the sight of his large, thick cock now held in his equally large hand.

He pumped himself once, unaware of the thrill of arousal that spiked through her. She understood how a little grinding could bring him so close to the edge. If he kept stroking himself, she was likely to come, too. The sight of his muscular body, how his cock seemed big despite his hands, how hungry his eyes were was all too much.

“What ideas, Lucien?” she asked again, still drawing lazy circles around that swollen nub of flesh. Lucien came closer and closer still, until he was at the side of the bed. Lifting his body onto the mattress with one powerful thigh, straddling her stomach so his cock nestled between her bare breasts.

“Fuck, Elain,” he whispered, thrusting up between the valley of skin. She pressed them together, using her fingers still sticky from her own arousal to tease the slick head of his erection.

Their eyes met. “Do you have a condom, Lucien?”

He groaned. That was a no.

“Upstairs,” he said, thrusting again and again, slowly, clearly doing so for the view. She could have scooted a few inches and found his cock in her mouth. It was so tempting, and yet the moment she began to readjust herself, Lucien was swinging his body off of hers and throwing his shorts back on.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice ragged.

A second later, he was gone. No shirt, no shoes. Her door slammed shut as he raced back upstairs. Elain heard him thudding inelegantly overhead, heard his door slam, and then a second later he was back.

“Hard to fucking run like this,” he panted, ripping his shorts off again. Elain reached for him, wanting to kiss him as he tossed several foiled packets to the bed but Lucien fell to his knees loud enough the people below her likely heard, grabbed her by the knees, and dragged her right to the edge.

Without preamble, his mouth was on her and Elain understood why he’d said no to the vibrating toys. “Oh, god,” she moaned, the sound echoed by his own appreciative groan. Elain had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep herself silent even as she pressed her thighs around her face, ankles crossed behind his head.

Lucien’s tongue was far better than her fingers, than any toy she could possibly own. Lucien licked with expert, unyielding precision and when one of his fingers slid into her body, Elain was wrecked. Grinding into him with shameless abandon. She’d never been so easy like this, so unconcerned about being sexy versus just chasing pleasure.

Lucien pumped one, and then two, before finally working a third finger into her. Stretching her open to take him, she knew, though in truth Elain didn’t care so long as he kept rubbing that spot just inside her body and kept licking her clit.

Elain couldn’t remember the last time a man had gotten her off. Had one ever? Graysen hadn’t, which had necessitated the toys. She could use them while he fucked her, which Gray had preferred. And Elain didn’t mind that—really, she didn’t—but sometimes a little effort would have been nice.

Maybe it was unfair to compare her ex to Lucien, but Gray had never eaten her out like this. There was a desperation to Lucien, like he needed to do this perfectly—like he’d never see her again and this was his only chance.

If he always ate pussy like this, he could see her whenever he wanted.

There was nothing elegant about the way she came. Clamped tight around his fingers, riding his face as she split apart, her body arching so hard off the bed she heard her spine crack. Elain scrambled back, gulping down air while Lucien licked himself clean of her before chasing her up the bed.

Their mouths collided, messy and rough in a clash of teeth and tongues. She could feel him between her legs, torturing himself by rubbing the head of his cock through her slick arousal. All she had to do was spread herself a little wider and he’d be inside her. She wanted him in her, wanted to know what it was like to share a body, to have him.

Elain shoved him, ignoring that the taste of her pussy was now in her own mouth.

“My turn,” she whispered.

LUCIEN:

He was dreaming. That was the only thing that made sense to him because otherwise he was living in a reality in which Elain Archeron was naked. Naked and pushing him to the bed, where he was also naked and hanging on a razors edge. A condom was going to do absolutely nothing to save him. The second he was buried in her, he knew it was all over. Lucien had been too close on the couch just kissing her.

Usually, going down on his partner tempered some of his arousal. With Elain, it has only made things worse. Flat on his back while Elain and licked and sucked her way down his chest, Lucien knew he was ruined.

He felt her reach across the bed, searching for one of the condoms he’d hastily grabbed. It was optimistic to take a handful and yet he’d gotten this far, hadn’t he? Why not hope he’d get to fuck her the entirety of the night. That maybe he hadn’t brought enough, even, and would make another trip upstairs.

Maybe this time he’d bring her with him, just so he could go down on her in his own bed, too. Lucien was certain his sheets could be improved by her pussy smeared across the fabric. For now, Lucien was happy to watch Elain settle between his legs and rip the corner of the gold foil packet.

Lucien gathered up her hair. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he whispered, thinking he ought to say something appreciative. Thank you for fucking me, I might be in love with you now didn’t seem like the right thing.

Elain looked up at him just as her fingers curled around the base of his cock. Did he think he was somehow owning this experience? That he was exuding confidence? Lucien practically whimpered at her touch, his hips arching off the bed.

She smiled. “Do you taste as good as you look?” she asked in that sweet voice of hers. God, she had been sent to kill him.

What a way to go.

“Find out,” he said in a voice that was decidedly not his. Whoever that man was, he sounded like he had a modicum of control, which Lucien absolutely no longer possessed. Maybe it would be smart to come, he rationalized. Maybe he should have taken a minute upstairs and finished himself and come back with the kind of stamina women boasted about.

Maybe— “Holy shit,” he choked, gripping her hair tight without meaning to. Elain sucked him into her mouth, unnoticed as he agonized over what to do next. The sight was obscene, her pink lips wrapped around the skin of his throbbing erection. She slid nearly half way before she gagged, widening her jaw to take in a breath of air. Lucien nearly came from the sight of her tongue peeking from her lips, of her hand gripping him so tight she must have felt his erratic, pounding heart.

“Baby,” he tried, unsure what he was even trying to accomplish. Lucien could die happy at the sight of Elain’s bobbing head, of her soft, wet mouth working over him with the kind of enthusiasm he had only once dreamed of. “It’s too much.”

That was true, at least. His whole body was so tight, was buzzing with anticipation. He was buzzing, practically electric.

“You’re going to make me come,” he whispered, trying one last time to get her off him. It hadn’t been a minute and she was going to laugh and call all her friends and tell them how quickly he’d come in her mouth.

Elain hummed, pulling him back to the present. “Come,” she said. A trail of her own saliva connected those swollen lips to his cock and fuck he almost did. He quite liked her telling him what to do, now that he thought about it. Elain took him back in her mouth, squeezed her fingers tight. One, two—

Lucien came with a rough gasp of air. She’d ripped that orgasm out of him and when he jerked his ups upward, unable to avoid the instinctual desperation to bury himself deeper, Elain let him pour himself into her throat.

Lucien groaned again when Elain wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

“I think that makes us even,” she said primly, sitting up on her heels.

He gaped for a second, still leaking come onto his stomach. Was she serious?

“Get on your hands and knees,” he growled. It was the only thing he could think to say that wasn’t thank you, I love you— which, again, seemed like the wrong thing to tell her.

“Are you going to spank me?” she teased, though Elain did exactly as he asked. Lucien’s eyes rolled upward at the sight of her heart shaped ass wiggling right in front of him.

He ignored the condom she’d begun to open, unsure if it was safe to use it. It took three seconds to roll it over his erection and another to bring his palm stinging against her ass cheek.

Elain gasped. She hadn’t expected him to do that. Lucien hadn’t either, but she’d put the idea in his head and Lucien couldn’t resist.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” he asked her. Say yes, say yes, say yes—

“What if I’m not?” she replied. Lucien didn’t know, though he lined himself him up that pretty, wet pussy of hers and pushed himself in an inch. The soft, warm heat of her body nearly made him come again.

He was so fucked. “My good girl gets to come on my cock. And my bad girl gets her ass spanked until she’s raw.”

Elain didn’t hesitate. “I’m your good girl.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck— Lucien buried himself inside her with a mighty stroke, using her hip to pull her back roughly. Elain moaned, squeezed so tight around him she might have been his own skin. For the first time in his life, Lucien thanked God for the condom. It was the only thing that kept him from becoming a mindless, rutting animal behind her.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asked, slowly pulling himself out. Lucien would remember this moment until he died. On his death bed, thinking not of a life well lived, but his hands on Elain Archeron’s ass, spreading her apart while his cock vanished into her perfect pussy.

“Make me,” she replied, half challenge, half plea. Maybe he should have asked for one of the toys in her bedside table, just to ensure his success. This was fine, he told himself. He’d put her on his back if he had to, and if that failed, he’d just go back down on her.

Actually, that seemed like an incredible idea. He nearly proposed it when Elain moaned, shifting to her forearms and changing the angle. Lucien gasped, suddenly deeper than he’d been before. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

“Do you like that?” he asked. It was a genuine question. He thrust again, the head of his cock brushing against something distinctly soft. He knew that spot—he’d had his fingers on it not five minutes before.

“Yes,” she panted. Perfect, he told himself. Keep his strokes steady and deep and he’d have her shaking around him in no time.

Though, just to be sure, Lucien snaked a hand around them for her clit. That made her moan, made her pulse around him which Lucien liked more than he’d ever admit.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, unsure what he was even saying. His mind was repeating out a rhythm—stroke, rub, stroke, rub, stroke, rub—

“My good girl takes my cock so well,” he continued, babbling out words as he tried to hold back his own desperate need to come. Again. It seemed important to call her his good girl, to plant that seed in her head so when they woke in the morning and he bypassed all the social niceties to ask her to be his girlfriend, it seemed normal.

Natural, even.

Elain had her face buried in her pillows, her hands pulling at her sheets until she’d pulled the corners off.

“Come for me, baby,” Lucien ordered, praying she would. He wasn’t above begging if he had to. “Come on my cock, let me see—”

She was loud enough to disturb the neighbors, not that Lucien cared. The sound speared straight into his balls, breathless and high pitched and needy.

His name, he realized. She’d screamed his name like that.

“Fuck, Elain—”

He couldn’t get another word out, not when his own orgasm ripped through him. Lucien couldn’t think, his eyes blurred black at the edges. When he did manage to look around, his eyes landed on the clock.

He felt like he’d been fucking her for hours. He’d managed twenty solid minutes. She’d come both times, though, which felt like a win all the same.

Lucien discarded the condom gingerly in the bathroom trash, giving her a moment to process what had happened alone. If she wanted him to leave, he’d go though he might also get on his knees and beg. That was a very real possibility, too.

When he padded back into the dark room, Elain was under the blankets. The corner was flopped to the side in what he hoped was invitation. She smiled when she saw him, pulling him toward her without a word. Lucien tumbled into the bed, gathering her into his arms. Her hair smelled like honey, her body like sweat and to his relief, Elain was naked beneath the covers.

“Let's make lemon bars in the morning,” he whispered. Elain twisted to look at him. It was clear she expected him to take off.

“Okay,” she agreed, her brown eyes wide and shining. “And then what?”

“We have our picnic, don’t we?” Lucien didn’t mention he fully intended to fuck her in the grass. That could be a fun little surprise for later, after he’d convinced her to put on another one of those strappy little sundresses.

Elain burrowed her head in the crook of his arm. “Good.”

“I’m not done with you, you know,” he said, though in truth he could use some water and a thirty minute nap.

“I know you’re not, Lucien,” she said, trailing her finger over his stomach. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither was he.

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #no pretty graphic/moodboard you ask?#look- you get what you get

136 notes · View notes

hikari-drkspc · 1 year

Text

❅ “Weakness” ❅

character: yandere! saionji ukyo [dr. stone]

warning: yandere, non consensual touching + (almost) kiss (not by ukyo) ; MINOR/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, PUT YOUR AGE IN BIO/PINNED POST TO INTERACT

words: 1k

a/n: this is a repost from my main blog (@/hikari-writes) so yes this writing is old + bad, i just moved them here w/o editing bc im lazy and wants to keep reminding myself how bad my writing used to be <3 this was set before Tsukasa empire was defeated !!

Ukyo stands in front of Hyoga, his face showing his nervousness and small beads of sweats could be seen trickling down his face.

“Why did you call me out here?”

Ukyo asks, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. He didn’t want to let Hyoga knew he’s anxious that they are meeting alone and a bit farther than their headquarters. If, in the worst case scenario, he was attacked, it’d be hard to escape. Although he don’t find any reason why Hyoga would attack him now.

“…Nothing much.”

Hyoga replies curtly and as soon as he did, Ukyo’s ears caught a series of footsteps heading towards them.

The footsteps he knows all too well.

Even though his ears could catch on sounds from a pretty far distance, he knows that her way of walking has always been so insanely fast. So although he knew beforehand that she’s coming, he still couldn’t take any action before she reached their place.

“Hey, Hyoga-san….why did you call me out here?”

Y/N finally reaches their place, her face showing pure confusion as she saw Ukyo and Hyoga facing each other.

“Y/N….”

Ukyo mumbles her name, his face turns pale all of the sudden. He doesn’t seem to be getting any good vibes from this situation. Out of all people, Hyoga called out Y/N, Ukyo’s no. 1 weakness, his girlfriend, here at this quiet place. It seems like Hyoga planned it so that she came right when Ukyo and Hyoga’s facing each other.

“Ukyo.”

Hyoga ignores Y/N’s presence and continue facing Ukyo.

“I’d like for you to join force with me to end Tsukasa’s life.”

Ukyo and Y/N went dead silent at that one sentence. For the first time ever, Ukyo couldn’t believe his own ears. Y/N’s legs started trembling at Hyoga’s sudden proposal. Did those words just came out of him? Even though Tsukasa trusted him, he wishes to kill him?

Ukyo was quick to regain his composure. He then looks straight at Hyoga’s face.

“And if I don’t want to?”

Hyoga stays silent at Ukyo’s reply. He then takes off his mask and in a blink of an eye, grabs Y/N’s arm and pull her face closer to him.

Y/N could barely understand the situation that flashes right before her eyes and her reflexes are too slow compared to Hyoga for her to even turn her face or push Hyoga away. But she does understand one thing. The sight of Hyoga’s face nearing hers makes her eyes widen in horror. Just the thought of other people aside Ukyo having their lips on hers is just… unbearable.

Just as their lips about to touch, Y/N was snatched away from Hyoga’s grip and a knife was pointed at his throat.

“Well, well…so even the peace-loving Ukyo can point a knife at someone’s throat when his Y/N is about to fall on other’s hands, huh?”

Ukyo hold Y/N tightly with one hand and his other hand kept the knife close to Hyoga’s throat. His face isn’t showing his usual calm exterior. Instead, he was like a completely different person. His face turns gloomy and his eyes are looking at Hyoga dangerously.

“I thought you knew that you can’t object an offer from me. Oh well, now the deal has been made. There’s no going back.”

Hyoga calmly said as he pulls up his mask back and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

Y/N is still clinging to Ukyo tightly, her whole body trembling. Ukyo who finally regains back his composure, try to reassure Y/N by embracing her small body. It’s almost as if he’s doing it to reassure himself. As if she could disappear at any moment and he’s clinging to her so desperately.

“Ukyo….I’m okay now.”

Y/N softly whispers at him. Ukyo reluctantly lets her go, and as soon as he did, her lips met his and they both melt into a sweet, loving kiss.

~*~

“I could barely understand what happened just now…Are you going to be okay, Ukyo?”

While they walk back to the headquarters, holding hands, Y/N asks a question that’s been on her mind since just now.

“….I’ll be fine. Completely fine. So don’t worry. What you should be worrying about is yourself. His target is you if he found anything suspicious at me. And that’s the only thing I don’t want to happen.”

Ukyo strokes Y/N’s head reassuringly and give a peck on her forehead.

“I really was afraid just now, you know? I wouldn’t have known what to do if he had kissed me.”

As soon as she mentions that, Ukyo’s face turns gloomier and his glares turns so scary it could kill a newborn fawn.

“If that’s the case, I’ll just kiss you two, no, three times than he did.”

Y/N’s ears turn red at his exclamation and she just smiles lovingly at him.

“I would love that.”

“For tonight, Y/N, sleep with me. I don’t want Hyoga to attack you while you’re alone. Stay by my side.”

Ukyo turns to her and said this seriously. Y/N quietly nod at him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Even if you don’t ask for it, I’ll always stay by your side forever and ever.”

Ukyo’s heart warms up at her loving confession and squeezes her hand.

“It’s okay…” He thought to himself. “Tomorrow’s gonna be the day this empire meets its downfall. Senku’s plan gonna work. Until then, I will protect Y/N even if I have to dirty my own hand. I may be a coward, but for her, I will…”

“Ukyo? What’s wrong?”

Y/N peers at Ukyo who was silent for a moment, worried of his sudden silence. He also seems to be glaring…which she just shrugs it off as her imagination.

Ukyo snaps out of his train of thoughts and stare a while at Y/N’s face before softening his expression and genuinely smile at her.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking of how much I love you .”

He says that so smoothly, making Y/N blush a bit.

“That’s right… I love you so much, I’m willing to change myself.”

Ukyo thought that as his smile turns into a cold one.

#tw: yandere #dr stone x reader #ukyo saionji #dr stone ukyo saionji #dr stone ukyo #dr stone ukyo x reader #dr stone yandere #dr stone yandere ukyo x reader

99 notes · View notes

crushculture03 · 8 months

Text

Knight In shining armor AU

Summary : Your father, the king, is a cruel man forcing you into a loveless marriage. But soon you meet his head knight and fall madly in love even though your love is strictly forbidden and can have dire consequences

Pairing : Knight! Matty x Princess! Reader

Warnings : Medieval times, poorly written smut, parental abuse, talks of torture and execution, pregnancy, mom running away, shitty father, Love at first sight troupe. Use of Matthew instead of Matty

Notes: This is an AU of the first ‘Knight in shining armor” except this one is more dark and intense than the last. Again it being medieval times, is the reason their relationship moves so fast bc people got married after like a day. Also they sound proper here so some of the dialogue may sound funny since there’s not a lot of contractions.

For your entire life all you have known was the cold cobblestone walls of the castle, you were never allowed to go out into the village or do anything that didn't have to do with the royal life. Your father, the king, was a cruel man who ruled the land with an iron fist, everyone of his subjects were afraid to cross his path, in-fear that if they as much as breathed in his direction that he would sentence them to death. You being the only heir to the throne was something he despised, he always wanted a son and you knew it, because he would always remind you how weak of a queen you would be and if he had a son he would be a powerful ruler just like him.

You so desperately wanted to escape the royal life, but your father kept you locked away and guarded at all times to ensure you wouldn't run like your mother had when you were just a little girl. He blamed you for her leaving, saying that if you would have been a son instead he would've loved her more and she wouldn't have left. Your only escape from your fathers wrathe and the miserable confines of the castle, was when you were allowed to go out in the garden, under intense supervision of course, but just being outside around the flowers made you feel better and made life seem less miserable.

Your father had called you into his chambers that morning to talk, you didn't know what about but sensed it was probably not going to be something good. With shaky hands, you opened the heavy wooden doors that led to his room. "Good Morning Father" you say, keeping your distance from him, "Y/N, take a seat" he demanded as he sat down on his favorite velvet couch. You quickly rushed over and took the seat across from him, "Y/N I called you here to tell you that you are to be wed to the Prince of Godwick" he says, your face falls, you always knew an arranged marriage was in your future, you just hoped you would have been able to escape before the time came.

"But father does he not have a wife already?" you ask, "He does but she is not able to have children so he needs a new one who can" he responded. "But hes 10 years older than me father, please don't do this" you plead, hoping by some miracle he will have a change of heart on the situation. All hope for that is thrown out the window when you feel a harsh slap on your cheek, "You stupid girl how dare you question me, you will marry him and that's an order you hear me?" he shouts, "Yes father" you say, hanging your head in defeat. "Good now get out of my sight" he demands, grabbing you from the chair and pushing you out the door, before slamming it in your face.

Tears flow down your cheeks as you run to the only safe space you know, the garden, luckily you had managed to avoid all the guards, so you were able to cry without your behavior being reported back to your father. "Oh mother I wish you were here" you sob as you cradle your head in your hands.

"Excuse me are you alright?" a voice says, you quickly look up at the person and wipe your tears with your sleeve. "Who are you" you ask, the man infront of you didn't look like any of the guards your father usually had following you. "I'm Sir Matthew" he says, as he takes a seat next to you on the bench, "Ah My fathers top knight" you scoff, not wanting to even look at him. "That is true, but if you are worried I am going to tell him about you being here alone and crying, then you are wrong, I see the way he treats you, no one should ever treat a lady like that" the knight says, this causes you to turn and face him "My father talks of you alot, I am not sure why I have never seen you though" you say, "That is probably because that awful man keeps you locked away from everyone but those grimy guards and maids that are assigned to you" Matthew says, it catches you off guard when you hear him insult your father.

"You know you could be killed for saying such things" you state, "I know Princess, but are you really going to sit here and tell me I am wrong for saying them?" he asks. You sigh, "No, it is kind of refreshing to hear someone call him a monster, because that's what he is, a heartless man who cares about no one but himself, I hate him" you say, "I do not blame you" he says. You take a minute to respond back, taking the time to study his appearance, he didn't look like the other knights, he was younger with beautiful chocolate curls that fell on his forehead perfectly, and warm brown eyes that made you feel safe just looking at them.

"My father is forcing me to marry the Prince of Godwick, says the prince needs a new wife who can have children" you say, "That fool? He is atleast 10 years older than you" he scoffs, "I have no other choice Matthew I have to marry him" you sigh, as tears pour down your face once more. The knight moves closer to you, and gently wipes your tears away with his thumb, you never knew someone in your fathers court could be so nice, so sweet, so loving. "I-" but before you can finish you hear your name being called in the distance, "Thank you Matthew" you say, before placing a quick kiss on his cheek and running off into the direction of the voice.

"What is it Fredrick" you spit, "You know you are not supposed to be out here by yourself" the guard says as he grabs your arm harshly and tugs you back into the castle. "Your father wants you back in your room until the prince comes" the guard says as he pulls you in the direction of your room. "And when is that?" you ask, dreading the answer, "In a month, so be a good princess and stay there got it?" he demands as he swings open your door and shoves you inside quickly, before slamming the wood in your face and locking it. You want to scream, but know if you do your father will come and beat you for making such a sound.

As you lay on your bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating what to do about the current situation, your thoughts couldn't help but drift to Matthew, the kind knight who had stopped to comfort you. He was the only person, besides your mother, who had shown you any sort of humanity. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through his soft curls, and what his lips might feel like against yours, you found yourself longing for him, even though you had just met him.

Your thoughts of the knight were interrupted by a loud thump that came from the balcony that was attached to your room. You cautiously made your way over to it and drew back the curtains, revealing the knight who wouldn't leave your mind. "Matthew what are you doing here?" you whisper, quickly pulling him into your room so no one outside will see. "I came to see you princess, you have not left my mind since we met" he said, you blush at his words "I have not stopped thinking of you either" you say as you gently brush a stray curl from his forehead.

He wraps his arms around your waist, quickly pulling you flush to his chest, "Princess" he whispers as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. You push your lips against his, not being able to wait another minute, the kiss is soft and gentle, everything you expected it to be. You reluctantly pull away from him, "I-Im sorry I do not know-" you apologize, but matthew quickly pulls your lips back onto his before you can finish your sentence. You wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, as he slowly walks you backwards to your bed. The back of your legs hit the soft mattress, prompting you to lay down and pull him on top of you.

"Princess" he whispers, "I- we can't" he stutters, "Please matthew for one night I just want to feel special, I want to be with someone I care for first before being sentenced to a life time of loveless sex" you plead as you tug on his linen shirt. "Darling" he whispers, "Please just for tonight I want to forget everything, Matthew please" you beg, "Princess, I care for you a great deal, and I want this, you have no idea how bad I want this, but aren't you worried?" he asks, "If he finds out then atleast I know my last night was spent with someone I love" you say, as your hand goes to cup his cheek.

Matthew instantly captures your lips with his, slowly bringing his hands to the sleeves of your silk night gown, "You sure princess?" he asks before moving foreward, "I'm sure matthew" you say back as you sit up and slowly pull your night gown over your head, revealing your naked figure. Matthew looks at you in awe, "You're so beautiful" he whispers, you blush at his comment, "Your turn Matthew" you say, he quickly pulls off his tunic and pants leaving him only in his underwear. You pull him back on top of you, quickly connecting your lips once again, his hands travel slowly down your body, landing on your hips. He gently sprends your legs apart as he pulls off his underwear, throwing them somewhere in your room. "I love you y/n" he whispers, before slowly pushing himself into you, you gasp at the new feeling but quickly welcome it. "Can I move my love?" he asks, you nod your head 'yes' in response and slowly he starts thrust in and out of you. You moan softly at the feeling of him filling you up, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips onto yours. You pushed your hips up to meet his, which cause him to go even deeper. "Mm matthew" you moan as he hits your sweet spot, "doing so good princess" he praises as he places feather light kisses to your neck. In that moment you had never felt more loved, you wish it never had to end, that you could be with him instead of being forced to marry that prince.

But any negative thoughts that may have been in your mind faded away when you looked up at him, his curls were falling messily on his forehead and his eyes held so much love in them. "What are you thinking about my love" he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts, "You" you smile.

After a few minutes you feel the tension in your stomach about to boil over "m' close darling" you say, "Me too love" he responds back and speeds up his thrusts, trying to lead you to your release. Your high hits you all at once, making your eyes flutter close as you take in the euphoria of the moment, you feel a sudden warmth spread in your abdomen as matthew releases inside of you. "Matthew" you whisper as your eyes flutter open, "Yes my love" he smiles, "Thank you for making me feel loved for the first time in my life" you say, "If I can I plan to make you feel loved for the rest of your life princess" he states, gently placing a kiss on your check before carefully pulling out of you and laying in the empty spot next to you.

"I wish that could happen" you mumble, "Who says it can't, run away with me princess" he says as he pulls you into his arms. "Matthew, I would love to but my father he would never stop looking for us, it is not safe" you frown, he sighs knowing you have a point, "Just hold me tonight and we will worry about the future tomorrow" you say, "Ok my love, goodnight" he says, before kissing your bare shoulder and closing his eyes, both of you slowly drifting off to sleep.

"WAKE UP" a voice screams, causing you to jolt awake, quickly covering your bare figure with your bedsheet, you turn to look at Matthew, but notice he's not there next to you. "So you think its ok to whore around with my knights!" your father yells, "Father where's Matthew!" you scream back, worried about the fate of your lover. The king chuckles, "Oh princess I am afraid you will never be seeing him ever again, he is set to be executed in 2 weeks, and you are to be married in a month" your dad smiles as he delivers the news.

Tears well up in your eyes as you hear the fate of Matthew, "Father please he did not do anything wrong, punish me instead it's all my fault not his" you plead. "Oh shut up you stupid girl" he screams, "You are to not leave this room until the prince arrives" he finishes, before turning around and walking out the door, slamming it shut. You cradle your head in your hands as you sob, you wish this was all just one big nightmare and you would wake up any minute still cradled in the knights arms.

A week has passed since you have last seen the knight, your heart longs to be with him, every night you lay awake worried about what horrors he has had to endure because of you. Sometimes Fredrick would taunt you through the door, telling you every detail of how your love was being torture, he'd find some sick pleasure in hearing you sob after every detail.

One night you are able to make a brave escape down your balcony, fortunately for you most of the guards were passed out drunk from the celebration that was thrown earlier in the evening.

You quietly make your way to the dungeons of the castle, making sure to tip toe around the passed out guard and carefully steal the keys. You quickly searched all the cells until you saw him, he was badly beaten and curled up on the floor, your heart broke at the sight and longed to be next to him once more. You quickly hurry to unlock the cell, making sure to be as quiet as possible as to not awake the guard. Once the door is open, you quickly rush to him, kneeling down beside him and gently stroking his hair. Matthew stirs at your touch and slowly opens his eyes, "Princess" he whispers, "Matthew" you whisper back, tears pour from your eyes faster as you see his bruised face. You gently pull him into your arms as the two of you weep together, "I'm so sorry this is all my fault" you mumble as you hold him close, "Don't say that darling please" he begs as he continues to cry into your chest. You kiss his forehead as you rock him back and forth, trying to soothe not only him but yourself as well. "I love you" you say as you look down at him, he looks up to meet your eyes and smiles "I love you too" he responds and with all his strength he pulls himself up and kisses you.

"I wish this wasn't how it had to end, I wish we could run away together, if I knew he wouldn't come after us I would have gone" you state, "Shh darling, its ok, we will meet again in the after life, I'll be waiting for you" he says, "No its not fair, if hes going to kill you, he might as well kill me too, because I do not wish to live if its not with you" you respond, as you lean your forehead against his, never wanting to leave his warmth again. "Please go on living for me darling, know I will be watching over you where ever you may go" he says, as tears pour down his face even faster. "Matthew" you sob, pulling him even closer to your body, "Shh princess it'll be alright I promise" he says, trying to console you.

You two stay in eachothers company until you begin to see dawn arrive, "Until we meet again my love" he says, kissing you one last time, "I love you forever and always matthew" you say back. You reluctantly get up from the floor and make your way to the cell door, you see him blow you a kiss before you close the door and lock it. You carefully place the keys back near the guard and make your way back to your room. Once you get back into your room you curl up on your bed and sob, wishing this cruel world would take you instead of him.

You continued to sneak out whenever you could to see Matthew, always bringing him extra food and cleaning his wounds, you needed to spend as much time with him as you could before your path together came to an end.

Unfortunately the day you had been dreading came, the day of his execution, and your father being the cruel man he was forced you to be there. You felt sick to your stomach as soon as you woke up that morning, a normal occurrence for you in the past week, you thought it was nerves but quickly realized it could be something else. Realizing maybe this could be the thing to save Matthew from damnation, you quickly shouted for Frederick to bring you your chamber maid, which after a while he finally did.

"Princess is everything ok? You look very pale" Penny, your maid said, "I think I might be pregnant" you spit out, knowing time was slowly running out for your lover. "Oh I see, Princess can I be honest with you" she asks, you nod your head, "Are you just saying that, because you know that if you are then your father will not execute matthew?" the women asks, her eyes filled with pity. "No I truthfully believe it penny, now please can we just do those weird tests, i've been drinking water all morning so I'm ready, please his clock is running out I need to find out now" you plead. Penny nods her head and proceeds to help you with finding out if you are with child or not. You are shocked at the results and know you need to hurry and tell your father before its too late.

But before you are able too even ask Frederick, he interrupts and says its time for the execution. He harshly pulls you out of your room and to the execution chamber. When you arrive you see Matthew, a hood over his head as he stands chained infront of your father.

"Ah y/n I'm happy you will be here to witness this" your father says, an evil grin spreading on his face. You see a gurad rip off matthews hood, his eyes meet yours as he mouths one last 'I love you' before being forced to kneel before the excutioner. "Sir Matthew You have been sentenced to death for treason, you betrayed my trust by being with my daughter, for that you must die" your father says. "Father No please" you beg, the king laughs and looks over to your weeping frame, "Why shouldn't I?" he asks, "Because I am Pregnant!" you shout, his face drops at your news. "Pregnant? You stupid child" he groans, and waves the executioner off, "Yes I'm pregnant and matthews the father, so you can't kill him father please" you beg.

Matthew looks up at you from where he kneels, and smiles at the news of the baby. "I will let him live, on one condition, both of you leave this kingdom at once and never return" he says, and for once in your life you see your dad show humanity. "Thank you father!" you say, quickly rushing to matthew and pulling him up and into a hug. "Do not thank me, just leave!" he shouts, turning on his heel and walking out of the door.

"You're pregnant" Matthew smiles, happy tears brimming at his eyes, "Yes, I just found out today" you respond, mirroring his expression. "Lets get out of here" you say, grabbing his hand and rushing back to your room, grabbing some clothes before you two run as far away from the castle as possible.

1 year later..

It had now been one year since you had left the royal life behind, You and Matthew were able to find refuge in a small village just outside the kingdom. After many long days of working tirelessly, you both were able to get your own cottage just in time for the birth of your daughter, Matilda Healy, you two absolutely adored your baby girl, to you both she was a sign of hope, after all she is the reason Matthew is still alive. And for the first time in your life, you were genuinely happy, you had a husband who loved you and a beautiful daughter, life couldn't have been better.

#matty healy #the 1975 #mattyhealyfanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine

33 notes · View notes