#i will haunt this building until they tear it down

[somecunttookmyurl]

peace and love to anyone wanting to migrate away from tumblr but i will simply not be doing that. when the lights go off the only place i'm migrating is to my to-do list

#i didn't migrate here FROM anywhere you see i was not on livejournal or wattpad #i had an lj account made about 3 posts and decided it sucked ass with a terrible layout #i just had accounts on 63 forums like god intended #if my main social media dies i will simply not have social media #and when i say 'when the lights go off' i dont mean when it becomes a ghost town #i will be the ghost #i mean when it's just physically no longer here #i will haunt this building until they tear it down #and then you will think you see flickers of me in the 404

[ponderingmoonlight]

Levi being separated from his wife for years after joining the scouts but finding his way back to her

Pairing: husband!Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: Just before Erwin was about to catch you in the underground city, Levi begs you to stay behind and promises to return. Years pass, years in which he never reached out once. Until an unexptected visitor knocks on your door.

Warnings: heavy angst to comfort, the last part is not proofread so have mercy, please let me know what you think as this is the second aot fanfic I'm posting <3

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation

Click here for a cute little spin off

You move with almost frightening speed around the countless buildings, escaping the hands of the blonde male behind you by razor’s edge. Why the hell are the survey corps so much stronger than the military police? So skilled with the 3D manoeuvre gear that it’s almost scary, haunting after you so fast that it’s getting harder and harder to escape their grasps. But everything is going according to plan, right? You need to get yourself caught, you need to join the survey crops, you-

“Move to the left. Just keep going and don’t look back. You are skilled enough to escape them alone.”

Your glossy eyes dart towards your husband in disbelief. No, he can’t be serious about what he just said. That would mean…

“But we’ll get separated”, you argue.

Levi is fully aware of what he’s asking from you. But given the neck-breaking speed and the skills of the people behind you, the risk of getting caught is greater than the benefit of staying together. And that man…Even though he promised you the world, Levi could tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t trustworthy. He might go to hell, he might die in the process, but you.

There is absolutely no way in hell he’ll risk your life.

At least you’d be safe, even if it means he’ll be away from you for some time.  

“I never intended on taking you with me, (y/n). If we’ll get separated, I will come and find you here. I promise.”

His words don’t make any sense while you shake your head in mistrust. But you agreed on going together, all four of you. Why would you stay behind, why would he even suggest something like that?

“(y/n), I don’t want to lose you because of a mission. Please, move left.”

You don’t know what to do, mind completely clouded by anger, fear and uncertainty. You would trust your husband with everything, laying your life right into his hands. But this? This means you might never see again, this means he’ll leave you here for who knows how long, this means your husband could lose his life for freedom.

“But what if I lose you?”

“You will never lose me. I promise I’ll come back to you, just trust me with this one. I love you, (y/n).”

You take a deep breath, the next intersection coming closer and closer. It’s time to make a decision.

Will you move left like Levi begged you to or will you move right and followi him like you initially planned?  

With a load of gas you propel yourself past a building, moving with horrendous speed down the tight side streets of the underground.

One last glance. One last glance into the eyes of the man who is the only light in your life, one last glance into the cold blue eyes of the man who is now chasing after him.

“You better come back to me, Levi Ackerman”, you mutter to yourself while holding back bitter tears.

-a few years later-

“Take it or leave it. I will find someone else who’ll buy it.”

“Are you up on sale too?”

That’s enough. With a swift motion, you pierce through the man’s dirty hand with your knife before turning around and leaving his house in company of his pathetic screams.

It’s been years. Years since Levi go taken away from you by that blonde man with blue eyes, years since he promised that he’ll come back.

But he never did. With fast and skilled motions, you swing around, making your way back home before the military police starts getting on your nerves again.

Everything seems so cold since he left. Your worn-down house, the bed you used to share, your whole fucking life. Who knows what happened after they got caught. Are all of them still alive? Maybe something went wrong, maybe they die-

No. You shake your head vehemently. This is simply not possible. Levi Ackerman would never die through the hands of a titan, let alone a member of the survey corps. That’s absolutely impossible, unbelievable to say the least. Maybe he started a new life on the surface with his friends, lying under the sun right now while eating the most exquisite food.

Good for him. If you weren’t still stuck in this hell.

A few harsh knocks on the door rip you out of your dreams.

“Who the hell is this?”, you grumble to yourself.

You don’t expect any visitors today. To be exact, you never expected anyone to visit you. So who could this be? The man you threatened before? The military police officers you stole from? Whatever, you will figure it out somehow.

But when you open the door, you aren’t greeted by the face of a disgusting officer. No, you stare right into ice-blue eyes.

“When will you finally let me get her?”

He missed you every single day since you parted your way back then in the underground city. How are you? What are you doing? Are you even alive? Levi’s hands clenched into fist just by the thought of it. Countless lonely night that felt so empty without you by his side, countless people he lost during the process. If you knew what happened…

“Is a woman really that important to you? She must be someone really special if you’re still asking about her”, Erwin commented, staring at the captain sitting in front of him with eagle eyes.

Yes, he does remember you. The girl who took the left path back then, the only one him and his squad weren’t able to catch.

“She is my wife. If you don’t allow me to get her, I will quit my service”, Levi suddenly barked at his commander.

How unexpected. Even though Erwin could tell that you’ve meant something to him when he decided to leave you in the underground city, he never thought his relations to you would go that deep.

“Fine, if that’s what you wish I’ll go and escort her.”

“I will get her myself-“

“You have a job to do, remember? I will take Moblit with me, it shouldn’t take long, given she cooperates.”

Did he even have a choice? One look into Erwin’s face showed him more than urgent that this is nothing to be discussed. And even though he hates to admit it, somehow Erwin is right. These brats were unpredictable, along with Hange.

“Fine”, Levi finally grumbled.

As long as you’ll finally be back in his arms, he won’t complain.

“You”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your whole body begins to tremble in thick rage, eyes darting right through his spoiled soul. His eyes haunted you in your dreams, how he talked to your husband back then, how they pushed his gorgeous face into the dirt. You will never forgive him. No, nothing in the world could make you forgive the blonde man in front of you who stole your life away from you so cruel.

“Where is Levi?”

“Maybe if you calm down-“

“SHUT UP”, you immediately interrupt the other man behind him.

“You will pay for all these fucking years I had to live without him. You will pay for every sleepless night, for every tear that I cried. You will pay with your own pathetic life!”

With a swift motion, you lower the knife out of your sleeve, ready to hit his carotid artery with full force.

Until you suddenly fall to the ground, the last thing you are able to see being this asshole’s boots before everything turns black…

“I…hate…y-“

Silence, darkness, nothingness.

“You didn’t have to hit her this hard. Levi will definitely make you pay for punching his wife”, Erwin comments dryly before gently lifting your numb body over his shoulder.

“His wife, huh? No wonder she’s so feisty, what a pain in the ass”, Moblit remarks.

“I understand her anger. After all, I hid her husband for multiple years from her. Let’s see how she acts when she wakes up…”

-back at the base camp-

“Who’s this woman?”, Eren mumbles into his best friend’s ear, staring at the lifeless female body laying in front of Erwin’s feet.

“They just came back with her. But nobody seems to know who she is”, Armin clarifies.

Everything hurts. Your back, your head, your limbs feel like falling off every second. You feel like hit by a horse…Did the military police catch you? Did someone come for you? Impossible…

You rub your head, lids blinking against the harsh light. Where the hell are you? And why is it so damn bright here? This definitely isn’t the candle in the middle of your bedroom.

You lift your trembling limbs off the ground, groaning when a new wave of nausea rolls over you. God, why do you feel so bad? You can’t even remember what happened last. You were at the underground, you made a deal with that asshole, you returned home, it knocked.

It knocked.

Your eyes widen in pure horror when his face lights up in your head. He. He was there. The man who stole your life from you, the man who took your husband with him.

“I’m glad you’re awake, he should return every minute-“

“You.”

Your eyes roam around without an aim until his cold blue eyes meet yours.

“You took everything from me!” you scream on top of your lungs.

The air around you heats up immediately, all the voices quieting down in an instant when your trembling index finger darts towards commander Erwin Smith.

“You took my life from me, you stole my husband and now you kidnap me! I’ve had enough, you’ll pay for all your sins, for how miserable you made my life! Do you know how many lonely nights I begged for him to return, that I even started praying for him to come back home to me? You promised freedom but caged me to the underground in my hopeless dream of him returning someday!”

Again, you shoot towards him with your knife in your hand. Fuck, you hate the way hot tears start to sting in your eyes and take your sight, but you can’t help yourself. This man in front of you is the epitome of living hell, the reason you suffered all these goddamn years. You aim for his neck, ready to slice him open like a fish along with a toe-curling scream that escapes your trembling lips.

“Don’t.”

The sheer force of a pair of fingers wrapped around your wrist is enough to make you stop. This almost sounded like…

“Levi.”

“I have to explain all this to you calmly. Please put down your knife, (y/n).”

“You have some fucking nerve”, you mutter under your breath, eyes darting towards him for the first time in years.

He looks just like you remember him, figure roaming over you for a few inches, eyes as calm as the ocean, hair neatly trimmed. Yes, he is just as attractive as you remembered.

And alive.

And this is the first time you see him, after so many years.

“Where have you been all this time, huh?”, you cry out.

You free yourself out of his grasp, now storming towards him.

“What about the promise you made back then, that you’ll return to me?”

Your hands push against his firm chest harshly, fists slamming over and over against his tight muscles while all he does is standing there.

“You left me without saying goodbye, without even thinking about me twice. Do you know how much I cried that day, how much I missed my fucking husband?”

Tears stream down your face like a waterfall, voice so hoarse that it’s hard to cough out a single word that makes sense.

“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me in the dark? Why-“

He can’t hold back any longer. Before you continue your ramblings, before you are able to hit him again, Levi wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed the simplicity of holding his wife in his arms.

“I love you, (y/n)”, he breathes against your ear.

You see stars, feel like fainting, want to push him away while all you want is to be held at the same time. Countless nights you imagined what it would be like to meet him again, countless nights you pondered about his life, where he might live, what he is doing.

And now he’s standing in front of you, pressing you tightly against his firm body while all you can do is break down and cry in his inviting arms.

“Back then, I have asked you to move left because I feared what lies behind the walls. And I was right, (y/n). The things I saw, the countless lives the titans took. Isabel and Furan, they… They died on our first expedition. It wasn’t safe to drag you into this world. Even if I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, I figured it would be easier to know you live as far away from the titans and me than being in danger…”

“You idiot”, you spit into the face you learned to love long ago.

“I would rather die by your side than live alone at the safest place. Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you?”

Your words echo through his mind, the past years replaying themselves in front of his eyes like a movie. It’s been so damn long. He should have asked about getting you sooner, he should have moved hell and earth to get you out of the underground.

“I’m sorry about all those years, (y/n). You were the only thing on my mind this whole time, I was longing for your touch, for your presence. I wrote a list of things I want to show you. I know how much I’m asking for, but please forgive me, please be by my side right here and now.”

Is it really this simple? Is one look in his lovely face enough to forget all those years you’ve waited for him? Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage, all pairs of eyes seem to be set on you. What are you supposed to do?

“A simple sorry won’t take away all those years I’ve waited for you.”

Levi swallows hard, this usual cool composure slowly but surely breaking away. Fuck, he messed up. He should have gone after you immediately, he should have ignored Erwin’s advice. If you leave him right here on the spot…His eyes widen in thick fear. No, this would completely tear him apart. After all, you are his precious wife, the love of his life, the only reason he kept going despite all the people that died in front of his eyes.

“But I won’t live in the past with regrets. I was hoping forward for this day so long, let’s enjoy it.”

And then you return his hug, wrapping your arms around his ribcage like you used to. Levi lets himself fall into your touch, soaks in the decent smell of citrons on your clothes. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed you.

“We will never return to the underground, my darling. Your place is right here under the sun.”

You press your lips against his hungrily, soaking up this precious moment. This is exactly how you imagined your reunion. Maybe a few years earlier, maybe being escorted by himself. But god, you can’t help but get lost against his mouth, your fingers re-discovering the valleys of his well-toned body.

“Huh, what’s going on here? HUH, DID I MISS SOMETHING!?”

Levi slowly removes his lips from yours, cold eyes staring darkly behind you. You follow his gaze, looking directly into the way too near face someone wearing glasses.

“This is my wife, shitty four-eyes. Can you stop bothering her?”

“WHAT? You never mentioned anything about a wife! Oh, what a gorgeous woman she is! And you’re just as small as Levi himself. Huh, maybe that’s what comes with living under the ground, right? But don’t worry, you will be just fine here! Apart from some titans here and there, and maybe titan shifters and don’t forget those-“

“Shut.Up.”, Levi hisses through gritted teeth.

#aot fluff #aot #aot x reader #levi aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #attack on titan x female reader #attack on titan x reader #levi attack on titan #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi angst #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #hanji zoe #erwin smith #erwin aot #hange #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #aot x you

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Loml ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: You and Mattheo share a legendary love, the kind that makes you leave everything behind without regrets—your life, your friends, even your family. You're dead to them now, because how dare you be with the son of Voldemort? Everything seemed perfect until last night, when Mattheo didn't come home. When he finally did, you knew something terrible was about to happen.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , Angst ( you have been warned), smut , unprotected sex, strong language.

Words:4k

Mattheo didn’t come home last night, and I was losing my mind, worried sick about him. The hours dragged on, each minute a relentless torture of anxiety and fear. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Every creak of the house made my heart leap with hope, only to be disappointed each time. Where was he? What had happened?

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door creak open. my heart leaped into my throat. Relief washed over me, followed swiftly by a wave of emotions—anger, concern, love. Before I could say anything, he was there, his lips crashing onto mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” I whispered against his mouth, but he silenced me with another kiss, more demanding this time. His hands roamed my body, pulling me closer as if he needed to reassure himself that I was real, that I was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" I tried to ask, but he silenced me with another fierce kiss, his fingers gripping my hips tightly.

"Mattheo," I whispered, cupping his cheek. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He shook his head slightly, his expression pained but determined. "Just let me have this." he said softly, his voice cracking.

I nodded and opened my mouth trying to ask him what was bothering him but my words were cut off as he bent me over, his fingers curling around the waistband of my pants, yanking them down. His breath was hot against my neck

He thrust into me hard and fast, the intensity of his movements leaving me breathless. I could tell something was off, but the way he was taking me left no room for questions. He was usually vocal, but now, he was almost eerily silent, his focus solely on the act itself.

“Did something happen baby?” I managed to gasp out between thrusts, my hands gripping the sheets.

He didn’t answer, just increased his pace, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The roughness of his touch, the ferocity of his rhythm—it was as if he was trying to drown out whatever was haunting him.

I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me reaching a breaking point. “Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

My scream echoed through the room as I came, my body trembling with the force of it. He followed moments later, his release silent but powerful, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against my back.

He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the roughness from before. His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

He kissed me softly, trailing down my body until his mouth was between my thighs. He licked and sucked, his tongue working magic as he brought me to another orgasm, my cries of pleasure mingling with his soft kisses.

When he was done, he moved back up, his lips brushing against every inch of my skin, his hands caressing me as if committing every curve to memory. He entered me again, this time slow and gentle, his eyes locked onto mine.

He held my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had formed. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” I replied, my heart aching with the intensity of my feelings.

He moved within me with deliberate slowness, each thrust a silent promise. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as if he might disappear at any moment. We reached our climax together, the wave of pleasure washing over us in perfect sync.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly when we were done, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He didn’t answer, just held me tighter, his arms a protective cocoon around me. There was something in his silence, something heavy and unspoken.

“Mattheo,” I whispered again, but he simply kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

I wanted to push, to demand answers, but exhaustion overtook me. I fell asleep in his arms, my last conscious thought a prayer that whatever was haunting him, we would face it together.

The next morning, I woke up to find the space beside me empty. My heart sank, the unease from the night before creeping back in. I slipped out of bed and padded across the room, spotting Mattheo on the balcony. He was leaning against the railing, a cigarette in his hand, the early morning light casting a soft glow on his features.

I walked up to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Good morning," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my head on his back. He didn't respond, just took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards into the crisp air.

"Mattheo," I started, my voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence.

I tightened my arms around him slightly, trying to convey my concern and love through the embrace. "You were so distant last night. You scared me. I need to know what's bothering you."

Still, no answer.

"Is it something I did? Something that happened? Please, Mattheo, just tell me. We can face it together."

He remained quiet, staring out into the distance, his body tense against mine.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

He took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. I could feel the wall between us, thicker than ever, and it broke my heart.

"Do you not trust me?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can fix whatever is bothering you now?"

He flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face me. His eyes were dark, filled with a turmoil I couldn't decipher. I reached up to touch his face, but he caught my hand, holding it tightly in his own.

His grip on my hand was firm as he turned away from the balcony, leading us back into the room. He sank into the couch. I stood there, watching him, my heart aching with the weight of his silence.

Memories flooded my mind, moments that defined us, that showcased the depth of our connection. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing in the shadows of Hogwarts' library. His eyes, dark and intense, met mine and I felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Despite his infamous last name, there was something in him that I couldn't ignore.

The wizarding world saw him in two extremes: as a legacy of power or as a monster. To me, he was neither. He was Mattheo, the boy who found solace in the pages of old books, who laughed freely with me by the Black Lake, and who kissed me tenderly in hidden corridors.

I remembered the night we decided to leave it all behind. The weight of his family's name haunted him, the expectations and fears others placed on him were suffocating. We chose love over legacy, escaping to a place where he wasn't seen as the heir to a dark throne, but simply as a man in love.

I remembered the first time he had said, **"You're the love of my life,"** when we were just kids. His words had been simple, but they had held a promise that resonated through the years and since then he won’t stop to remind me of it every chance he gets. We left the grandeur of wizarding society for a small, quiet life in the countryside. It was a decision that felt right, a decision I'd make a million times over without regret.

I moved to sit beside him on the couch. "Hey," I said softly, trying to catch his eye. "Baby, please, what is bothering you?"

He remained a statue, his body rigid, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor far beyond me. It was like staring into a stranger's eyes, devoid of the warmth and affection that used to light them up whenever he looked at me.

"Okay," I tried again, my voice cracking under the strain. "So... what about we go to that place you like tonight?Remember, we were talking about—"

"We are not going anywhere," he cut me off, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. It sent a fresh wave of ice crashing through my veins.

Panic clawed at my throat. "Okay, we can stay home," I stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence, "make some ________ "

He stood up abruptly, his movement so sudden it startled me. My breath hitched in my throat as his towering figure loomed over me. The playful glint in his eyes, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat, was replaced with a cold,hard glint of something far more sinister.

The words died in my mouth when I saw the look on his face. It was a mix of anger, frustration, and something else I couldn't quite place – a flicker of regret, maybe? But it was quickly overshadowed by the other emotions, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Don't you get it?" he spat, his voice laced with a bitterness I'd never heard before. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

My breath hitched. Distraction?

"But... but I..." I stammered, the words catching in my throat.

"You what, Y/N?" He scoffed, the sound harsh and unforgiving. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

His words, each one laced with disdain, ripped through me like a knife. Ordinary. Was that all I was to him?

"But…" I stammered, my voice choked with unshed tears. "We… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future we__"

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. My voice was barely audible, a broken plea lost in the suffocating silence of the room.

"But you did," he countered, his voice growing colder with every word. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," I whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

His answer was a cruel laugh. "Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook”

The pain was a physical entity now, a vise tightening around my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Did you ever loved me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea for a shred of hope in the midst of this crushing despair.

He met my gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth, devoid of anything resembling the love I had seen reflected there countless times before. "No," he said, the word sharp and final. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a flicker of the warmth we once shared. I sank onto the couch, my tears falling uncontrollably.

He took a step back, his eyes holding a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like guilt. But it was quickly replaced by a cold indifference that sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over me.

"I'll leave," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can stay here."

He grabbed his phone and keys from the coffee table, his movements mechanical, devoid of the warmth that used to characterize even his most mundane actions.

I sat there, numb, watching him walk towards the door. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the room, each reverberation a physical blow to my heart. It was then, as the final echo died down, that the dam broke.

A sob escaped my lips, a raw, primal sound that tore through the silence. I crumpled onto the couch, my body racked with sobs. The pain felt like a physical entity, a crushing weight in my chest, stealing my breath and blurring the world around me.

We almost had it all. Almost.

The space beside me in the bed remained stubbornly empty, a constant reminder of the gaping hole Mattheo's absence had ripped in my life. The night after he left, I lay there, a hollow shell staring at the ceiling. My body ached with a dull throb,the aftermath of the storm that had raged within me. Sleep was a distant dream, replaced by a relentless torrent of tears that threatened to drown me.

Days blurred into one another. I became a prisoner in my own apartment, trapped in the agonizing limbo of grief. Getting out of bed felt like a herculean task, the simple act of breathing a burden. Time stretched before me, an endless expanse of grey, devoid of colour or joy.

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional choked sob that escaped my lips. The remnants of our life together mocked me - a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, his abandoned toothbrush in the bathroom, the scent of his cologne that clung stubbornly to his favourite armchair.

Grief twisted within me, manifesting in a kaleidoscope of emotions. Rage surged through me in hot waves, followed by crushing despair that left me weak and breathless. I'd scream into pillows, the sound muffled and distorted, a hollow echo of the pain tearing at me.

In a fit of blind fury, I hurled a picture frame across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces on impact. The sound was almost satisfying, a momentary release from the suffocating silence within. But even the destruction brought no solace. The room, once a symbol of our love, now mirrored the fractured state of my heart.

Exhaustion eventually claimed me, pulling me into a restless sleep. Dreams offered no solace, only a cruel twist of reality.I dreamt of Mattheo, his eyes filled with regret, his lips brushing against mine as he whispered apologies, promises that he didn't mean it, that he loved me.

Then, with a jolt, I woke up. The stark reality of the empty bed, the chilling silence, slammed back into me. It was a dream, a cruel mirage in the desert of my grief. Tears welled up again, hot and stinging, as the realization settled in - he wasn't coming back.

The sting of the hot water had done little to soothe the raw ache in my chest. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, the reflection in the mirror a stranger staring back. My eyes, once sparkling with life, were bloodshot and puffy from days of relentless crying. My skin, usually vibrant with a healthy glow, was pale and drawn. I barely recognized myself.

Back in the bedroom, the emptiness hit me with renewed force. Each creak of the floorboard, each tick of the clock echoed the hollowness within. My gaze fell on a crumpled piece of paper lying innocuously on my bed. A surge of confusion washed over me. I hadn't placed anything there.

Frantic, I searched the room, the silence broken only by the ragged gasps escaping my lips. There was no one here; Mattheo was gone. A bitter laugh escaped me, the irony laced with a fresh wave of tears. He'd warned me – never trust anyone. But where was he now, the one person I'd trusted with my entire heart?

Picking up the paper, I unfolded it, hands trembling. The words scrawled across the page were written in an ancient language, one I recognized from my dusty spellbooks. But what caught my eye was the line at the top – "From a friend." A friend? In the wreckage of my world, the concept felt alien.

The spell itself was simple, its purpose clear – to numb the pain. It promised a temporary reprieve from the agonizing ache that threatened to consume me. But a tiny voice whispered a warning deep within. Magic always came with a price and this spell must be forbidden for a reason.

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the parchment. What was the worst that could happen?

Numbness. That's what I craved. It seemed like a small price to pay when compared to the excruciating pain that gnawed at my very core. Didn't I deserve some peace, even if it was temporary?

With a shaky hand, I reached for my wand. The familiar weight in my palm felt foreign, a stark reminder of the life I used to lead – a life filled with laughter, love, and magic. Now, it held the potential for oblivion, a desperate escape from the unbearable reality.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered the incantation, the ancient words tasting bitter on my tongue. A faint blue light emanated from the tip of my wand, engulfing me in a cool embrace. For a moment, there was nothing – no pain, no sorrow, just an emotionless void.

The first few days were a blur. I spent them curled up in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling, the world fading into a muted backdrop. The spell wore off after a few hours, but the return of pain was a stronger than ever. So, I cast it again.

Then again.

And again.

What started as an occasional escape became a daily ritual. The once faint blue light became a familiar glow, casting an eerie light on my deteriorating world. Soon, once a day wasn't enough. Twice became the norm, then three, then a constant hum of magic thrummed in the air around me, a desperate attempt to outrun the pain.

A metallic tang filled my mouth, jolting me awake. Blood. My nose was bleeding, a crimson stain blooming down the front of my nightgown. Panic clawed at my throat, a sharp contrast to the dull ache that had become my constant companion.

This wasn't normal. The numbness, the shield I had built around my heart, it was slipping. The raw, agonizing grief threatened to consume me once more. But the familiar blue light, once my solace, refused to respond. My wand trembled in my hand, the incantation stumbling on my tongue, the ancient words feeling foreign and hollow.

A strange dizziness washed over me, the room tilting at an alarming angle. My vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into swirling colors. A wave of nausea hit me, bile rising in my throat. This wasn't just the pain returning; this was something different, something terrifyingly new.

My body, once numb to all sensation, ignited in protest. A dull ache that had become my baseline morphed into a searing pain that radiated from my core. My limbs grew heavy, a strange tingling sensation creeping up my extremities. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the fear coursing through me.

Tears, long forgotten, welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision even further. I stumbled out of bed, my legs shaky and uncoordinated. The world swam before me, the once-familiar room morphing into a maze of threatening shadows.

The next day dawned, bringing no relief. The symptoms, once a terrifying novelty, became a relentless onslaught. My body wracked with chills one moment, then burning with an internal fever the next. Blood, not just from my nose but also from my mouth, stained everything I touched, a grotesque reminder of my deteriorating state.

Weakness, crippling and pervasive, enveloped me. As I tried to rise from my bed, the world tilted violently, and my vision swam with black spots. A scream ripped from my throat, a scream, desperate plea for help that echoed unanswered in the empty apartment.

Then, darkness threatened to consume me. I felt myself falling, the floor rushing up to meet me. But just before the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness claimed me, a strong pair of hands gripped my body, arresting my fall.

Disoriented and delirious, I blinked, my vision blurry. Through the haze, a familiar face materialized.

"Y/N?Can you hear me love?" A voice, urgent and laced with panic, called my name. It sounded distant, muffled, as if filtered through water. But the warmth of the hand holding me, the metallic scent of my blood staining his fingers, these were real.

This wasn't a dream. It was him.

"What have you done, love?" Mattheo's voice, ragged with worry, reached me through the haze of pain engulfing my body. I wanted to answer, to tell him everything, but the words wouldn't form. The pain that had been a constant ache in my heart had become a monstrous beast clawing at every inch of me.

"It hurt so much," I managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down my nose.

His hands were gentle but firm, cradling me, wiping away the blood and the tears with a tenderness that brought a flicker of warmth to the icy grip of fear that had taken hold. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured, desperation lacing his voice. "Just tell me, please, what have you done?"

"I just wanted it to stop," I rasped, pointing weakly at my heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “ it hurt so much.”

My gaze drifted beyond his shoulder, and a flicker of disbelief sparked through the fog clouding my mind. There, in the doorway, stood the man whose name had only been whispered in hushed tones – the man who controlled Mattheo's destiny, his father.

"He… he's back?" My voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth.

"Shh, love, don't try to talk," Mattheo soothed, his grip tightening protectively around me.

"What have you done to her?" He turned to his father, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Just showed her a way to numb the pain," the man replied with chilling indifference. In that moment, the fear I felt transcended human comprehension.

He looked exactly like the villains from my childhood fairytales, the embodiment of pure evil.

So this was the reason behind the shift in Mattheo, the darkness that had threatened to consume him.

Fear clawed at me, but I managed to reach for Mattheo's hand, finding strength in his warm touch. His other hand stroking my hair grounded me.

"Don't be afraid, love," he murmured into my hair.

"It wasn't the deal!" Mattheo said, his voice laced with a fury I'd never witnessed before. "I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!"

"I'm helping you, child," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness."

"Shut up!" Mattheo snarled, his eyes blazing. "Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!"

I choked on a fresh wave of blood, the world spinning wildly. This was too much, far too much. A terrible realization dawned on me – I was dying.

But at least I was dying in Mattheo's arms, and in that moment, I knew he didn't mean the cruel words he'd spoken. He was just trying to protect me.

"You're not dying," Mattheo whispered fiercely, as if reading my mind. "You're not dying, baby. I won't allow it."

"It's okay," I rasped, my voice barely audible.

"It's not!" he argued, his voice thick with desperation. I reached out, my trembling hand finding his. He squeezed it back, his touch a beacon of strength in the storm.

"Can you say it like you used to ? can you tell me that you love me?" My voice was barely a whisper. "I want to hear you say it one last time."

"No, because you are not dying," he insisted, turning his blazing gaze back to his father. "Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won't just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time."

Another cough, another surge of blood. My vision blurred at the edges.

"Mattheo," I whispered, my voice weak but determined.

He looked down at me, his face etched with agony. "You're not dying," he repeated, his voice a desperate plea.

"Look at me, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby."

With a final surge of strength, I mustered a smile. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched my lips. Before darkness threatened to claim me, a single thought brought a sliver of peace. He loved me. That was all that mattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Do you think she will survive? 🙄

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle series

[xxoxobree]

See You Again

Miles G. Morales x Black Fem Reader

WARNINGS: Angst , Sadness, Happy Ending.

A/n: Surprise Shawtayyy‼️ wrote this in like 20 mins 🫶🏽 I love it 🤣

A year has flown by since Miles' father and you, his girlfriend, passed away. Yet, the agony that gnawed at his soul showed no signs of leaving. His grief had descended into a deep depression, which soon morphed into a seething anger. His heartache only intensified as he struggled to make sense of why he had to suffer so much. Why were two of most important people in his life ripped away from him?

Sleep was now a distant memory, and he dreaded the thought of closing his eyes. Every time he did, he was transported back to a time when he was happy, a time when he shared precious moments with you, that only added to his already unbearable pain.

Miles found himself under the spell of his uncle, who had taken him under his wing, using his intelligence for nefarious purposes that he knew would have disappointed you. He was desperate to shake off the haunting memories that plagued him so he took up the mantle becoming The Prowler.

Tonight was like any other night. He slid open his window, using his metallic claws to pry it open, then climbed in, undressing before heading to bed. But as he headed towards his bed, something caught his eye - a glint of light that shone in the darkness. Curious, he approached the object and picked it up, examining it closely.

It was a necklace, one that belonged to you. The very one he had given you, the one that you had lost the day before you were taken from him. The necklace that he had promised you he would help you find the next day. Miles clutched it tight in his hand, feeling the weight of his grief pressing down on him. He slowly made his way to his bed, where he fell asleep, still holding onto the precious necklace.

As he drifted off, his breathing gradually steadied. He soon found himself in a dream, where you appeared before him once again, with your beautiful smile that quickly turned to a frown, your eyes filling with tears. He could hear your weak voice ringing in his ears.

"Miles....Miles, help...I don't want to......... " your voice trailed off the sentence unfinished forever. Miles jolted awake in his bed. His heart raced from the intensity of the nightmare that had just gripped him. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before reaching for his cellphone to check the time. It was already 8 am, and he had to get ready for school.

The rest of Miles' day went by relatively normally, until he was heading back home. His head was down, texting his mother about her picking up another shift when he heard it - his name being called. He looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

He heard it again – that voice he would recognize anywhere, the voice he longed to hear once more. And there you were, standing on the front steps of his apartment building, waving at him before running over. Miles stood frozen in shock, unable to grasp how you were there.

"Y/n," Miles said, his eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Hey, Miles! What did you do to your hair? Did your mom do it? I kinda like it," you said, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that Miles was experiencing in that moment.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you, your hair styled just the way he liked, with your signature pink hair in two puffs. Your lips glistened from your lipgloss, and Miles couldn't help but stare in awe.

Without hesitation, Miles quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, knowing that if he didn't seize this moment, it would pass him by forever. He hugged you tightly, squeezing the life out of you.

"Whoa, Miles, you're gonna crush me!" you said, giggling. It was a sound that Miles had missed so much, and it filled him with a sense of warmth a feeling he never thought he'd feel again.

You tapped him gently, and Miles reluctantly let go of the embrace, still holding onto your shoulders.

"Someone missed me," you said, smiling as your eyes zeroed in on his neck. He was wearing a chain, one that looked exactly like yours, but you had yours on your neck. You gripped your chain, feeling a sense of confusion.

"I didn't know you got a matching one," you said, pointing at the chain.

"Oh, yeah," Miles chuckled. "I thought it was cute."

"That's so cute, Miles," you said, before reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. Miles' heart skipped a beat, and he swore his head was spinning. You were here, in front of him.

He looked down at your entwined hands, still in disbelief that you were really here. "Miles, are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as your eyebrows knit together.

Miles took a deep breath before he spoke. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," he said, trying to compose himself.

"Okay, well let's go. You promised me you'd carry me to the rooftop, remember? To see your new artwork." You reminded him, eager to see the artwork he had been working on.

You were right. He had promised to show you, but now, that artwork was different. It was a painful reminder that you had died, a reminder that you shouldn't be here with him right now. But he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. Not yet.

You snapped your fingers in front of Miles' face, trying to get his attention. "Miles, hello! You're acting strange today. What is it, my love?" you asked, your eyes searching his for answers.

"It's nothing, mi amor. Come on," Miles replied, his voice unconvincing as he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs. He dreaded taking you up there, too scared that you would leave him again. His heart raced with each step, and he couldn't shake off the sense of unease.

As you two arrived at the rooftop, Miles looked back one more time at you. Your face was radiating with happiness, just happy to be with him. The sight made his heart thump harder, if it was even possible.

He pushed open the door, the cool breeze hit his face. "Here it is," he said lowly, motioning his head to the mural of you and his late father.

Your smile instantly dropped, confused by the whole thing. "R.I.P? But I'm right here," you said, looking at Miles in disbelief.

"Miles, your dad," you whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears. Miles just continued to look down, staring at his Nikes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out as you stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"You died, Y/n. Right in front of me, in my arms," Miles said quietly, watching a single tear splat on his shoes. He looked up at you, seeing tears fall down your cheeks. How he hated to see you cry.

He walked over to you, wiping away your tears, a small smile on his face. "You're too beautiful to cry," he whispered, grabbing your hands. "And I don't know if you're a figment of my imagination, if I'm dreaming again, or if I'll ever see you again."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and sadness. "So please," he said, closing the gap between your bodies, his hand on your waist. "Can I get a kiss?"

You nodded, and he tilted your chin upward, placing the most gentle, loving kiss on your lips. It was a kiss you wished could've lasted forever,

#miles g morales #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #e42 miles x reader #e42 miles morales #e42 miles X you #earth 42 miles X you #Spotify #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x black!reader

[misctf]

Getting Over Him

Amanda wiped a few tears from her eyes as she looked into the mirror at her puffy eyes and ruined makeup. This was supposed to be a fun weekend trip with friends. But she didn’t want to be just friends with Brad. She had come to love everything about him: his kind personality, his respectfulness, and physically- he was exactly her type. But while Amanda developed feelings for the blond college jock, he never seemed to view her as anything more than a friend. But she always hoped that maybe one day he would.

“I just wish I could get over him.” She mumbled, drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep, barely registering the odd symbols glowing on the wall.  

Meanwhile, Brad sat at the edge of his bed, feeling like shit. He replayed the events of that night in his head- Amanda bringing up her feelings and him awkwardly turning her down. Brad massaged his temples. He knew she had feelings for him, and honestly he had feelings for her. But he was hesitant, worried about their friendship.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” He mumbled, stripping off his shirt, pants, and boxers. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, “Could use a good workout.” As he turned towards his bed, he noticed the glowing symbols on the wall around him, “What the fuck...”

He saw them when they first arrived, but didn’t think much of it given it was an older home. Now that they were glowing, his curiosity peaked. As he reached out to touch one, several glowing orbs emerged from the symbol, dancing around the room. Brad yelped in surprise, turning to leave, but suddenly finding he couldn’t move.

“What the hell? Help!” But his words were only a hoarse whisper.

“Is this him?” Brad felt a cold sweat wash over him as he heard the voice.

“Yeah that’s the one!” Another voice cooed.

“I can totally see why she’s into him.” Another voice giggled.

Brad was terrified. Sure the house was old, but haunted? There was no way. He moved his eyes around frantically, eventually landing on his own frozen form in the mirror across from him.

“Hmm but that seems to be the problem!” One of the orbs approached him, “She’s totally into blonds.” Brad watched in shock as the orbs moved through his hair, each blond follicle changing and becoming darker until settling on a dark black. Simultaneously, he involuntarily raised his arms, where a few more of the orbs tickled his pits, the hair there changing too.

“H-how?” Brad strained to ask the simple question.

“Hmm but that won’t be enough!” one of the orbs said, “She loves a clean shaven man.”

Brad recoiled as the orbs began to move across his body. Each area they touched, became increasingly itchy. He grunted in frustration as the itchiness became unbearable. However, the feeling peaked and calmed as hair follicles began to push out from his previously well-shaven body. Tiny black hairs emerged from his chest, shoulders, crotch, arms, and legs. The jock’s face was no exception as the dark hairs emerged, giving him a small beard. His body turned, so that he could see how hairy his ass and back had become. But to his horror, the hair began to thicken, covering him in a thick pelt.

“Almost missed a spot!” Brad raised his arms and the orbs worked on growing out and thickening his pit hair.

Brad felt his frustration building, “Why are you doing this?” He forced out. Brad was happy with his appearance- blond, clean-shaved, muscular- and he knew that women liked it too. He couldn’t be seen like this! And he couldn’t even imagine how long it would take to shave.

“He doesn’t seem to be enjoying it!” A voice whined. 

“Don’t worry, we can change that!”

Brad watched as a few of the dancing lights moved towards his cock. He tried to move out of the way, but his resistance faded as they began to massage him, the pleasure causing him to moan. He had never felt anything like it- the sensation as they bobbed up and down on his cock, which had quickly hardened at the sensation. He could barely focus as they continued to dance around him, the jock’s mind consumed with pleasure.

“See! He looks so happy!” The one celebrated as Brad let out another silent moan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His arms moved freely, as he rubbed his hairy chest and massaged his nipples, “See he’s sooooo into it!”

“Let’s focus now! Poor Amanda. Always attracted to guys with big muscles.”

As Brad rubbed his hairy chest, he felt his firm pecs start to soften. As he pushed on them, it felt like they were deflating- losing the definition he had worked so hard to get. The jock forced himself to open his eyes, doing his best to resist the pleasure. He wished he hadn’t. Brad watched as his muscular frame began to shift. His pecs had already deflated, and his abdominal muscles followed, quickly losing definition. His arms were not spared as his biceps and triceps atrophied before his eyes. The jock grunted as he felt his shoulders press in on themselves as his back muscles decayed, leaving him more narrow and lanky.

“Wa-wait, please... stop...” He said between pants. He let out another grunt though as a thin layer of fat began to cover his lanky body, a small paunch protruding from where his abs had been.

“Aww don’t cry Brad.” A voice cooed, “Just focus on the pleasure.” Brad moaned and threw his head back as the pleasure in his dick intensified.

“But while he’s definitely not her type now, there’s always still a chance.” A voice whispered, disapprovingly.

Brad felt a shift in his mind as his sexuality flip- a sudden need for cock down his throat or up his ass invading his thoughts. And as these thoughts became cemented, he felt an inward pulling from his dick. He watched as his manhood shrunk- as it did the pleasure there moved to his ass. He moaned as he grabbed his ass and explored his hole with his fingers.  

“Th-this isn’t right!” He huffed, wincing at the higher pitch of his voice. He had never played with his ass like this, yet now he couldn’t help it, the pleasure there dwarfing anything he had experienced from his dick, “Y-you can’t leave me like this!”

“Don’t worry Brady.” A voice whispered in his ear.

Brad was about to respond when he felt an intense pressure in his head. It felt like something was trying to push him out of his own mind.

“Amanda likes him for his kindness and respectfulness.” A voice giggled, “I doubt she’ll care for slutty and judgy!”

The jock became aware of a new set of memories- his time sucking off the football team, the men who bent him over, and the nights he would spend clubbing and partying. He had become a total size queen too, only caring to suck or get fucked by hung men. And as these new interests blossomed, he could sense this new personality pushing him out.

“No stop!” He moaned, “This isn’t real!” He was holding on desperately to his old memories, to who he was.

“We’re doing this for Amanda.” Brad’s eyes widened in confusion, “Just give in to the pleasure.”

Brad moaned, trying to resist. Part of him knew if he gave into the pleasure, it would be over for him. But just as he got closer to climaxing there was a knock on the door. The orbs vanished and the symbols stopped glowing. Brad fell to the ground, huffing, his small cock still rock hard and his ass throbbing with pleasure.

“Fuck.” He whispered, moving his once restrained limbs, “Need to find Amanda.” His thoughts were a mess- his old personality still present, while the new one continued to try and dominate.

The former jock threw on a pair of underwear and opened the door, desperate to find help. However, standing at the door was one of his teammates.

“Shit!” Brad said, again wincing at his voice. Nick looked at him, seemingly confused, “You’ll never believe me man but...” Brad stopped midsentence, his eyes traveling down Nick’s muscular and bare torso. His eyes landed on Nick’s compression shorts, where an evident bulge was growing. He bit his lip- what would it be like to have that python down his throat?   

“Oh uh hey man.” Nick replied, the confusion leaving his face, “You’re Amanda’s friend, right? Brady?” Brad felt his heart sink- did Nick not remember him? The concern dissipated though as Brad refocused on the growing bulge in Nick’s pants, “Uh so...” Brad continued to stare at Nick's bulge, “Uh yeah I was wondering if...”

Brad wanted to resist, to push Nick away and find Amanda, but as he stared at the growing snake in Nick’s shorts, he gave in, “I can help you with that.” Nick grinned and without hesitation, pushed Brad back into the room.

The next morning, Amanda woke up and slowly got out of bed. As she entered the hallway, she watched the door to Brad’s room open. She grew confused when a sweaty Nick walk out, a stupid grin on his face.

“What the fuck?” Amanda whispered.

“Oh hey Amanda!” Nick said, blushing, “Uh yeah, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his head, “Uh thanks for bringing Brady.”

Amanda was about to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but Nick quickly darted to his room. She narrowed her eyes and walked over to Brad’s room, intent on finding out what that was all about.

“Hey Brad, what...” Her eyes landed on a man swiping on his phone in Brad’s bed, someone who she didn’t even recognize. But before she could say anything, something clicked in her head. That was Brady, her gay best friend. He had insisted he come along when he saw the guys who would be going. Amanda sighed, this was so typical of him, “So, had fun last night?”

Brady looked up from Grindr and giggled, “Hun, you have no idea.” 

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #personality tf #wish gone wrong

[almond-tofuuu]

Maybe dawnbreak! Zayne eventually finds a way to get to the world he 'dreams' about, and meets the mc. (yandere tho???)

Oooh I love this idea!!!! Thank you anon!!!

Hope you enjoy 💕

The Reaper's Embrace

Dawnbreaker! Zayne x reader

Warnings: slight yandere/possessive elements, possibly ooc Zayne/Dawnbreaker (I tried my best)

lmk if I missed anything ☺️

Something was wrong with Zayne.

When you left work to find him waiting for you outside the building, a strange sense of unfamiliarity washed over you, as though your subconscious was screaming about a danger your brain couldn't register. Which was absurd, right? Zayne wasn't a stranger, far from it.

Maybe it was the clothes he was wearing. The sleek, black suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and the long, dark coat he wore over the top blended seamlessly into the night. He looked intimidating, almost scary, his imposing form striking an eerie resemblance to that of the grim reaper.

You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind, "I'm being ridiculous! It's just Zayne, so what if he's dressed a little differently. I must be even more exhausted than I thought" after mentally reprimanding yourself, you make your way over to Zayne, ignoring the unsettling chill running down your spine.

"You must've gotten off work early today if you're here to pick me up! Sorry if I kept you waiting" you greet him warmly, soft smile on your face despite the increasing paranoia building inside your mind.

Zayne doesn't respond, his eyes that are usually filled with a tenderness and warmth now appear cold and lifeless, but there's a hint of something else in his gaze, something almost crazed and predatory. It makes your blood run cold, as if the ice of his evol was flooding your veins. It's as though you're in a trance, your mind is begging you to run, to get away from the man in front of you, but your body won't respond, frozen under the intensity of his gaze.

Zayne takes a careful step towards you, one hand slowly reaching out but stopping just short of touching your cheek. He hesitates, as though he's afraid to actually touch you. And he is. He's afraid that this is just another dream, a cruel trick his mind is playing, and the moment he touches you, you'll disappear, slipping through his fingers like the early morning mist.

Zayne has dreamt of this moment for so long, thoughts of you haunting him, consuming every fibre of his being until the only thing he could think about was you, you, you. For years he had been forced to watch you through the eyes of the doctor, taunted by the other version of himself that got to hold you.

But not anymore. Now that he had finally found his way to you, he wasn't going to let you go. The doctor could never love you the way he did. You were a ray of sunlight that broke through the darkness that shrouded his life. You were his saviour, his guiding light, you were his.

As Zayne's hand hovers inches from your cheek, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a primal instinct urging you to flee. But you're rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense, icy eyes. With a trembling breath, you brace yourself for his touch, unsure of what to expect.

Finally, his fingertips brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender, but beneath the surface, there's a palpable intensity that sets your nerves on edge. For a moment, the world falls away, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his touch, the way it sends a rush of conflicting emotions swirling through your mind. Fear, desire, uncertainty—they all mingle together in a chaotic symphony that threatens to overwhelm you.

And Zayne feels it too. The warmth of your skin underneath his cold, calloused fingertips is enough to cloud his mind with desire, all thoughts of logic and reason are forgotten as his eyes darken. The tender hold he had on your cheek turns into a bruising grip of your jaw, his other hand encircling your waist, pressing your body tightly against his, strong arm preventing you from escaping. Lowering his face beside your head, 'Zayne' finally speaks, warm breath fanning over your cheek. And although the smooth, deep voice is familiar to you, the darkness of his tone has your body trembling in fear.

"I've waited for this moment for so long. Finally, you're mine. And now that I've got you, I'm never going to let you go."

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lnds #lnds zayne #zayne x you #lads zayne #dawnbreaker

[momotorin]

you cling to your papers and pens (wait until you like me again)

sana x fem!reader — angst, fluff | cw: mention of cigs, weed

it's been a rough, gruesome six months. you've locked yourself away from everyone else, only focused on your work to keep your expenses in the living range, barely eating with the empty bottles of jack daniel’s and soju lying around the dinner table properly like it's your personal bar.

“holy shit,” your friend, nayeon laughs as she sees your wrecked state. “you look like shit,” she says as she walks in, removing her white leather shoes and tucks them away neatly at the step beside the doorway. “your house looks like shit,” she sighs, taking the bottles of alcohol away from your table to your kitchen top. “everything’s shit.”

“don't need to point out the obvious,” you sighed and followed, also cleaning your mess one by one. “i just want my life back, you know?”

she just laughs as she helps you wipe down the mess on your table, “no, you want sana back.”

“well,” you sighed deeply at the memory of what you once, well, whom you still love. “i don't know. she can't leave me like this when i didn't expect that this would happen.”

nayeon was one of the people whom you ranted and cried to the moment sana went m.i.a on you. honestly, you didn't even know the reason why she did. the days before that event of her leaving, you two were happy; you cooked breakfast together, you kissed every time you wanted to, you made love in every corner, you two talked about the most random shit in the world, you rode bikes beside the river, you went on dates, rarely fought, and solved everything by communicating— like in a deep, boundless honeymoon phase.

with sana, you thought that it was never-ending. unconditional. something you could never find everywhere, even if you tried to scurry the ends of the earth for a similar feeling.

but then, on one winter night, just a few days before her birthday, she disappeared like white smoke as cold as your breaths when you cried and screamed her name in the streets of seoul.

up until now, you call her number, text her number, go to the firm she works at (well, it's unavoidable, your workplace was across the street.), text her friends (which, were also your friends and had no clue that sana also left.) hoping for a little update from her, and why she left you.

after hours of cleaning, you finally found yourself satisfied with the step of making (at least) your house a little cleaner. now, everything's clear to you; how sana left you with an empty home— an empty dinner table, an empty bed, an empty sofa, an empty heart. you went into tears remembering almost everything like it all washed, crashed, and flashed in front of you.

she left you with ghosts that you didn't know how to manage, and you're the only one left to deal with it.

does it haunt her the way it does to you? you cursed that she’d be so haunted by it and come running back.

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on the other side of the world, there's 8 empty bottles of wine on a kitchen top, a woman holding a glass as she wakes up from her ‘nap’ that lasted 8 hours on her couch.

new york. there was sana in the middle of a seemingly concrete jungle, the buildings looming into her as she walks, bigger than anything else she's seen before.

but, this was her escape. she didn't even know what she would escape from.

she confided in the wine glasses, pouring both cheap and expensive wine in one night, crying and lulling herself with your voice in her messages to sleep. it didn't help that it was cold, and your embrace was the only thing that she can ever confide in. it was awful too, how the memory of you talking about new york haunts her, how she imagines you in every street, in every store, in every corner of it and how much you'd enjoy it both.

she doesn't know why she needs time if she chooses to hurt. she's so afraid of the fact that she'll break you, that she can never give what you want.

she found a small, blue velvet box in your cabinet as she wanted to steal one of your hoodies (which happens more often than not) which sent chills to her spine. you wanted to marry her.

at first, she didn't really mind as maybe you'll give it another time, or maybe it's a different ring. but you've been hinting about it ever so slightly since, and that just kept her away. she didn't even know why she was so afraid of telling you just that.

but sana's smart enough to catch on, hearing you on a call with your friend at 3am, talking about the ring, and how you'd give it to her on her birthday, basically like a double thing where you'd propose and surprise her.

on the 28th, she decided, taking one of your hoodies with her as her pairs of shoes, clothes, things, and she herself, leaves your shared home.

she sighs, putting the wineglass to a safer place, her coffee table. it doesn't help that the layout of her flat was so similar to your shared home, and she sometimes just wakes up with tears in her eyes, knowing that she had dreamt about you.

she doesn't know. what she knows is that your hurting at the same time she was hurting.

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“we're going to relocate you to new york for this project,” your boss says as he slides you a thick pile of manila folders, supposedly from the new client. “they liked your portfolio.”

“okay,” you leaned back at the cushioned chair. “what are the conditions?”

“what they've said is that you’ll be on the project for the whole duration,” your boss sighs against his own chair. “and then they’ll put you on their team of other architects in new york. they have a similar style than yours, but they'd make you the head.”

“when will i meet them?” i asked. “i mean, before i fly, there's an initial meeting, right?”

“it’s gonna be on friday,” your boss says. “read the profiles on those so that you could get a rough draft of what they want from you.”

“and surprisingly, they wanted me,” you laughed over the phone at just how ridiculous it was. you haven't had any big projects since six months ago, which was your break-up. you refused to accept, but then, this one's different. “plus, it's a two year contract. they want me there until the building stands upright.”

your friend, momo, laughs in absolute delight. “great. you'd meet me often then,” she joked, but then, you don't see why not. “and, i assure you that i've got the stuff, you know? girls, booze, and even the devil's grass— i have them.”

“god, can you calm down for a second, i'm not even there yet,” you joked back. “wait, isn't weed illegal in new york?”

“yeah, it is,” momo chuckles. “well, you've got to get your ass to other states too to live a little. that's why it's called the united states of america, not united state of new york.”

“i can't believe you can't even stay still,” you sighed over the phone. it was a classic, momo was an adventurer all on her own, so you couldn't blame her. “anyways, meet me at the airport, okay?”

“yes, sure,” she sighs over the phone too. you could just feel the eye roll from thousands of miles away. “you better get me what i've said to you.”

“of course,” you affirmed. it was a list of her favourite snacks and some other asian kitchen staples, since she does cook often. “half of my luggage is like your stuff. don't even complain if the jjapaggeti noodles are broken.”

“yeah, whatever,” momo chuckles over the phone. “just bring yourself here in one piece. you already have a place?”

“yup,” you breathe, remembering how much you were looking forward to that house. it was supposed to be your home after you've proposed to sana. “i, um, kept it for a while.”

“alright,” momo replied. “i gotta go.”

you then smiled, “okay, see you.”

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momo fetches you from the airport with a silly little sign that read: “WELCOME TO NEW YORK Y/N!” then, she happily shows you around the new york city like a tourist before going home.

“is this it?” momo asks, looking up through her window to see if she was in the right apartment complex.

you nodded and said, “yes, this is it.” you smiled as you got off the car, helping momo unload the luggage. you took out a big bag and a small plastic bag out of your luggage, and gave it to momo who was already smiling with joy. “snacks.”

“you're my bestest friend ever.” she says, quite sarcastically as she loads the stuff back to the backseats of her sedan. “you really sure that you can't spend the night out?”

“i need to deal with the jetlag first,” you explained as you closed your luggage. “plus, i have a meeting tomorrow. i need to deal with that first.”

“okay,” momo smiles and hugs you. “just give me a call whenever you need someone, okay?”

“yes, yes,” you smiled and hugged her back. “you go home now.”

“yup,” she says, going back to the driver's seat. “good night, y/n!”

you smiled and waved at her until she disappeared from the street, as now you're left with your heavy luggage and your stuffed backpack. you get your keycard from your wallet and slowly went up the stairs, having a breath of relief seeing the entrance to go up the complex.

it had an elevator, luckily, it was working, and you pushed the button to the 4th floor. your door was to the left, a huge studio unit facing the street. although it isn't that busy, you really liked it as there were trees, and it was downtown.

god, you wished that sana could live in this beauty with you. the apartment, by your design, had taken inspiration from the 60s, mid century modern at it's very best. you turn on the lights to see the furniture still covered with what you left it.

you quickly remove it to take a seat on the sofa. you couldn't believe just how much it feels this big. it was like someone was meant to be beside you, but now you're left all by yourself.

the big windows show just what's outside. another complex, another window, weirdly, your neighbor's windows were open. you didn't have your glasses on, so you didn't really mind, but there was a woman who held a glass of wine, her hair tied into a bun as she read a book. it was a quiet life, and you were sure of it.

you take out something from your backpack, a little journal for your sketches. you draw the lines of your window, and draw the woman just across you. you don't know her, but you smile at the sight of her just turning pages and drinking her wine. you finished your sketch, smiling, and you passed out on the same sofa.

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sana, after a while of drinking wine and reading, takes a look across the road. it's the first time she sees the lights open from the neighbor's window, and she sees just how big the windows were compared to hers. must've been great to live there as she sees the furniture. it looks like a damn museum in soho.

she doesn't miss the sight of a person, still wrapped up in their most uncomfortable clothes, a brown, long trench coat, dress pants, and a dress shirt; passed out on the sofa. that's how she remembers you sleeping when you've had a bad, excruciating day from your work, and she chuckles at it. she must've been so drunk to think that it was you, so she gets her eyeglasses.

“fuck.” she cursed. she rubs her eyes in disbelief, maybe she's going crazy that now you haunt her. “fuck, this can't be.” she slaps herself, trying to make sense of it all as she hurriedly closes her windows shut.

she knows you've had a couple of apartment complexes in new york way before she ghosted you. she knows that you own several here— one in the upper west, one in soho, and this one, all of it being rented. she was going crazy and filled her wineglass again, trying to relieve her veins.

she couldn't sleep that night without trying to look at the other side. seeing you sleep like that, so uncomfortable and busy. her heart aches as she still knows just how much your forehead creases like that, at just how much she knows your heart sleeps heavy too. she wants to hold you like she always does, and wants you to let it all out on her.

sana cries herself to sleep that night.

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you wake up to the bright sunlight seeping into the corners of your home. you even forgot to take out the lights before you slept so uncomfortably on the sofa. you looked at your watch, seeing that it was already 9 AM, just an hour before your meeting, so you hurriedly stood up, cursing as you pulled down the blinds of the window to have some privacy before you left. you didn't miss how the woman across you had shut her windows down even if she was letting it all open at night. weird.

you then chuckled at the thought and got rid of your other clothes to take a bath and hurriedly made yourself presentable for the meeting.

you just thanked god for the subway system, and how fast you can run. you arrived at the meeting room 10 AM, on the dot, and you immediately took out your laptop to present.

it went well, and now you're reassigned into a team on the 14th floor, working on the same project as you. it's a two year contract with them, so you made a promise to yourself that you'll not slack off about it. well, it's just that you can't. it's a big project and you need to design both interior and exterior.

the same night, since it was a weekend, you decided to get a couple of drinks from the deli just right at the corner of your street. you were already dressed comfortably, and you're now looking at the selection of alcohol in the back of the deli. you can't deny that you've been drinking more now than ever, even when you were partying. you sigh as you get two bottles of smirnoff mule, a staple since you've been spending time here and not finding cheaper-than-water soju.

you went to the cashier and saw a woman getting in, hair falling down to her shoulders, wearing a comfortable pair of slides, with a pair of black rimmed round glasses and one of your favorite hoodies. wait. what?

you look at her again, her back facing you. that mclaren formula one hoodie. it was plain in the front, just having the team’s logo, and it had a huge print of the car at the back. it was a gift from her since she knows just how much you like formula one.

“that'll be $5.28.” the cashier reminds you. “anything else?”

“a pack of marlboro reds too, please.” you smiled, and you heard the woman, whom you think was sana, clear her throat. she knows you've been trying to come clean, and since the four years you've been together, you haven't touched any type of cigarette. she can't bear the feeling that pangs in her chest, knowing that you'll relapse because of her.

“that'll be $22.28.” the cashier says. damn, that expensive? you thought in your head. it was just a fake buy, yeah, you'd put it, but you'll leave it rotting. you become sick at the smell of tobacco in your system.

“have a great night!” you greet as you went outside the deli, waiting for the woman to come out. you don't plan to confront her, but you do plan to get something out of her. you don't care if she'll nag at you, or hit you, or ignore you. you just want her to know you're here and you've found her.

you put a stick of cigarette between your lips, and you pull out your lighter (you keep it as a fidget toy, and you recently put some fluid on it.) you spark it as you saw, at the corner of your eye, sana leaving the deli to go to your street too.

you took a sickly puff out as she passes by, and she coughs loudly.

“what? have a problem with it?” you confronted her. “it’s not like it's your first time seeing me like this, minatozaki.”

you quickly disposed of the cigarette. you hated it already, and it was no use. she stopped in her tracks, hearing her last name come out of your mouth.

“just stop running away.” you chuckled to yourself. “you already know i can never get mad at you.”

“i live at number 14, 4th floor, number 229, the door's always open.” you shouted as she continues walking. you didn't care if you just exposed your room number, or your literal address to everyone. not that they’d care. what's important is that sana does. “i want my hoodie back!”

“well fuck you!” she shouts back, and from that, you can see her tears run from her face. “it's mine now!”

she runs to her apartment, and you observed, it was the one just across yours. you waited until you knew which floor she was on. you knew it the moment the second unit of the third floor opened their lights, and it was the one directly in your direction. you laugh at the realization that she was the woman whom you were drawing the first night you were here.

“god, i can't believe she's still this stubborn.” you say to yourself as you keep smiling your way to your apartment. thank god you have a hundred papers for creating your blueprints, and you lay one out on your drawing table to write ‘give me my hoodie back!’ in big letters, enough for sana to see the next morning when she opens her windows.

days passed. you haven't been opening your window since she still isn't giving you back your hoodie.

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“damn, it's dark in here,” momo laughs as she puts down her chinese takeout, seeing your apartment this dim in the afternoon. the only one with a light was your work table, which had most of your blueprints. “i know you hate overhead lighting but don't fuck your eyes up more.”

“yes, i know,” you sigh as you open the lights. “i'm just trying to cut down on the costs.”

“you own the damn building,” momo scoffed as she opened her box. “plus, you have more money than you think.”

“please don't get me to try weed again.” you joked as you also took a box, opening it to smell the most scrumptious chow fan you've ever smelled. “this is enough.”

“yeah, it's great, probably the greatest one around here,” momo smiles as she takes another bite of her food. “sana lives just right across from you then?”

you just nodded as you went to get some water from your fridge. “she just said fuck you.”

“i mean, she would,” momo joked. “but like, that's kinda asshole-y of her to just ignore you.”

“she ghosted me, of course she would ignore me,” you laughed. “no one gets friendly with people they've ghosted.”

“why didn't you like, pull her to you?” momo asked. “you know. like ones in dramas?”

“nothing would ever come out of it either.” you sighed. “plus, i didn't have the guts too. maybe i was so upset that i really just wanted my hoodie back. don't even try to sound me out. i know that you'll say you kissed mina the moment you reconcile. but she didn't ghost you!”

“okay, yes, that's right, but still.” momo holds you by the shoulders to calm you down. “get your girl back.”

“i can't,” you laughed. “i'm so busy that i didn't even remember that i got dumped. honestly, at how busy i am, i might even forget that she lives just right across from me. i haven't called her number, i haven't texted her for days. the last text i sent her was i told her that my detergent was still the same.”

“why the hell would she want to know that?” momo laughs.

“dunno,” you pouted. “she has my hoodie, might as well make it smell like me.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

“i fucking hate that she hasn't even changed one bit,” sana sobs as she confides in her friend's side. “it’s so annoying.”

sana remembers the way you screamed. the way you faked buying cigarettes and taking one stick that you immediately threw as she turned her back against you. the way you called her last name. the way your voice cracked in pain. the way you drew your note with a silly character. it annoys her that you keep on staying on her mind. she was supposed to forget you.

“i'm,” she sobs more, nursing a bottle of some alcohol she got offered with. “so annoyed that i still want her.”

“then get her back,” mina laughs as she hugs sana. “honestly, she'd understand it. like she always would.”

“i don't wanna hurt her anymore,” sana sobs as she takes another sip. “i never deserved her.”

“she pursued you back then,” mina remembered, rubbing her hand across sana's arm to calm her down. “what makes you think that you don't deserve her when she literally wanted you?”

“i just can't.”

“do you still want her?” mina asked.

“yes,” sana chuckles through her tears. “a little too much.”

“then pursue her,” mina whispered. “try to win her back.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana kept that in mind. that night, she wanted to go home by herself, and mina let her do so, even if she was too concerned. sana got too annoying and mina just dropped her off by the subway instead.

sana stops by the corner deli to try and see you.

you were at the deli to grab a little snack, and you opened the door to go outside but you almost hit someone, “shit, look where you're going!” your stuff fell to the ground and you heard the person chuckle.

“sorry,” you looked up at the person. “i shouldn't have.”

you realized it was sana. she wasn't standing upright, her outfit looked like it was chilly, and her eyes were almost closing. “sana,” you held her by the waist, trying to get her upright. you pull her close to you as she pulls you by the waist too, her head leaning to your neck. “goddamnit.”

“don't say that,” sana laughs against your skin. “but i get it though.” she slurred her speech. it was probably the copious amount of alcohol she consumed.

“i swear if you ever vomit on me i won’t meet you again.” you've seen it all. she vomited on you the first night you went out and she was too drunk. “i'm serious.”

“i know,” she whined as she hugged you again. “just take me home. i don't do that anymore, baby.”

“stop,” you tried to unclasp her from you, but her hold on you was tight. “i can't walk properly.”

“you do,” she looks down and sees that your steps were completely fine. how the hell is she still this conscious? “please.”

“we're gonna trip.” you chuckled. “get off of me first.”

she did get off of you, but she continued pouting, and you see her tears pooling around her lower eyelids.

“okay,” you took off your jacket and let her wear it, then you carried her with your arms, which took her by surprise and she immediately wrapped her arms around your neck. “don’t think that i'm still head over heels for you,” you warned. “i'm doing this because your feet are fucking swollen.” you were right. she was wearing those heels with such a steep form, and it was inches away from the ground too. you're surprised that she haven't even removed it yet.

she just nods, and her tears fall down. she can't believe that you're not mad. that you're not fuming. that you haven't even refused her yet. you don't hate her.

you take her to her apartment, lay her down on the couch, and you search for a glass to pour some water in. “here,” you handed it to her. “sober up.”

“thanks.” she smiles and wipes her tears.

“don't even,” you said. it hurts her to hear that you're almost monotonous. “where's my hoodie?”

“i’ll return it to you,” sana says as she rests her head on the couch, surrendering her whole drunk body in it. “it's in the wash basket. don't even bother to find it. i promise.”

it was an excuse for you to get her a blanket, which you got from her bed. you saw that her eyes were already closed, and you're even more surprised that she's actually already sleeping. you laid the blanket on her legs, and she pulled it up to consume her whole body with it.

you don't know why, but you watched her sleep. you watched if her eyes also tear up, or if she mumbles your name. you heard it and sana full on sobs, you saw at just how much her hand tightens around the edge of the blanket, how her breath heaved as she mumbled your name.

you don't understand. why does she seem more hurt than you? you're the one she left, and not the other way around. did that drunk curse work that well for her to miss you this much?

you find yourself crying. you just can't bear it so you left, but you didn't miss to tuck her hair behind her ear, and you didn't miss to wipe her tears by the tip of your thumb. you just couldn't bear seeing her this hurt.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana grunts as she sits up from the couch, feeling her head throbbing against her skull. she was warm, having the jacket on and a blanket. she saw that she had water and hangover pills just on the table where her night lamp was placed. well, fuck.

she looks at her phone hurriedly, wanting to see if she got a new message or a new call from you. she opened her windows and saw a new note saying: drink your meds!

she forgot for a moment that you were there with her last night, that's why she has your black puffer jacket, and that there's a note on the table too. it was your number, and you wrote: “whenever you're ready.”

she just couldn't believe how calm you were. she just can't bring herself to admit that you don't hate her.

her eyes run a tear once more. she doesn't even know why she's this hurt. she chose to leave, didn't she?

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana conquered the fear of texting you first. but after telling that the number she texted with is her active number, you just left her on read.

her day passes by like that, looking at her phone every once in 30 minutes, staring at her phone the whole lunch break, and her heart races everytime she gets a notification, hoping that it was from you.

honestly, she doesn't know what she'd say to you. maybe you were busy, or maybe you just chose to ignore her to pay back what she did. (which, honestly, isn't that bad.)

she pouts, staring at the text. still on read.

sana: are you free this weekend?

she asks. in over a record time, you read it and you reply.

y/n: yeah, why?

sana: i was wishing if we could talk over dinner and hopefully i could give your jacket and hoodie back.

y/n: don't bother to return the hoodie.

sana: why?

y/n: i changed my mind. plus, you technically bought it and you just handed it to me as a gift, right?

sana: yes, but what about your jacket?

y/n: i have three of those. that one's already wearing off and it has holes anyways.

you were honest. you do have three of it in similar styles, sana knows of it, doesn't know why, and you don't even know why.

sana: but what about dinner?

y/n: i can cook 🙂

sana pouts, but she knows you're playing with her to get something out.

sana: please. let me treat you out.

y/n: you don't need to. why?

sana: yes, i don't need to, but i want to.

y/n: then?

sana: i’d talk with you.

y/n: aren't we technically talking now?

sana: look, i just want to spend time with you.

y/n: minatozaki, this is leading to nothing.

sana: please let me treat you out to dinner.

y/n: we're going in circles. why?

sana: i need you to hear me out.

y/n: okay.

sana: 6pm. pontios.

y/n: okay. anything else you need to say?

sana: your jacket doesn't have holes.

y/n: just keep it.

sana smiles. it was such a you thing to do, letting her get away with your jackets in her closet. it's the best thing that keeps her warm, wrapped around the similar woody vanilla scent of your perfume.

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the weekend comes quickly, and you were so exhausted to finish checking and doing what seems like thousands of blueprints in a span of a day. you need to clear your schedule for saturday and sunday to finally get some rest. of course, to also finally meet sana.

it's the time where you'd actually find why she left. why she made you cry. why she moved to new york.

you sighed as you put on your best outfit, and went out just before 6pm. you went to the restaurant to see her already waiting for you in a table closed off from the windows, in a more intimate area of it. you looked around and saw the interior, and you guessed that it's sana's favourite. it had the same mid-century feel to it, but it was more of a diner, and it was very bright with the presence of fluorescent light bulbs.

“did you wait long?” you asked as you looked at your watch as you sat down on the sofa right in front of her.

“not at all,” she flashes you a tight lipped smile. “i arrived a couple of minutes ago.”

“good,” you said as the waiter makes their way to your table. “should we order now?”

“yeah, go on,” she says, handing you a menu. “pick anything you like.”

you just hummed and you flipped the menu to every page. apparently, it was an all day breakfast restaurant. most of the meals only consist of either coffee, pancakes, sausages, fried chicken, bacon, and eggs.

“i’d get the chicken platter, please,” you dictated. “plus a can of coke.”

“i’d get the same.” sana closes her menu as well and hands it over to the waiter with a smile.

“so,” you sighed as you adjusted yourself, leaning back on the cushions of your seat. “what am i even here for, minatozaki?”

“do you really want me to make it quick?” she sighs.

“i thought you were ready?” you scoffed.

“i know what to say, yes,” she said. her eyebrows were already meeting in the middle of her forehead slightly. “where do you want me to start?”

“where do you want to start?” you chuckled.

sana knew you were toying with her with your little repetitive questions. “since you wanna play that way,” sana sighs. “i left because i knew you were gonna propose to me.”

your jaw immediately drops to the floor the moment you heard her, but you tried to pull it back before flies could come in.

sana smiles at your reaction. “i didn't want to reject you, so i chose to leave instead. i thought there was nothing else i could do. it was either to reject you and break your heart like that; or break your heart by leaving and ghosting you.”

“okay,” you breathed and collected your thoughts. “why didn't you tell me that?”

“i'm not a party pooper, y/n,” she joked as the food arrived at your table already. “i didn't want to ruin your surprise either.”

“so you surprised me instead,” you joked, eating a slice from your pancakes. “nice one there, minatozaki.”

she sighs under her breath. it was hard for her to process just how much she hates being called by her last name from you. it used to be so sweet. now it's just plain, boring, and hurtful— like a dull knife piercing right through her stupid little heart.

“what i was trying to say,” you said as you gulped on the cola. “is that why didn't you tell me the day before? there was plenty of time for me to blow up my surprise.”

“yes, but it's your surprise,” she sighs as she takes a bite from her chicken. “it’s foolish if i find it out first when i am the one who'll take the surprise, right?”

you smiled at her, “yes, but what made you think that i’ll look at you and love you differently if you say no?”

“because you were so sure of it.” she says, looking at you right in the eyes. “you don't want your expectations to be broken, and that's the first thing i knew about you when we met. i just couldn't let it happen.”

“i just couldn't let myself see you cry because of me.” she sighs, interlocking her hands together as a relief. you see the tears pool around her eyes as she looks down on her untouched pair of fried chicken and waffles.

“okay.” you just took a bite out of your food once more, ignoring the overwhelming feeling in your chest. “is that all of it?”

she just nodded as she sniffled.

“eat up,” you smiled, quite foolishly and teasingly. “you said you wanted to take me out to dinner, right? it ain't fair if i'm the only one actually having dinner.”

sana chuckles to herself. this was how you usually are, trying to ignore the feelings that come from everything.

“but you made me cry still,” you laughed to yourself as you spoke. “you made me drink, you made me lonely, you made me coop myself up at home when i should be celebrating my birthday, made me think so much where did i go wrong when i remembered that i kissed you to sleep. you made me question everything i did from the start, sana. and at some point, you even made me doubt you.”

you're quite surprised that you're not shedding a single tear. maybe it was the relief of getting the point across to the person that you really want to talk with, and getting the answers you wanted for such a long time.

sana realized that you're awfully kind. it hurts for her to hear that there are nights you spent drinking on your own, thinking about what you could have done to get her back.

you hand her your handkerchief, but you can't bring yourself to dry her tears just yet.

she gladly takes it, and she smiles, finally calming down from the heavy feeling. it soothes her that you never lost yourself, even if she left you clueless.

“i'm sorry, y/n.” sana sighed deeply as she wiped her tears down with the soft cotton of your hanky.

you then chuckled again, “what for? are you leaving me again?”

“no,” sana pouts. “i'm just sorry for everything that hap-”

“it's all in the past,” you smiled again. sana missed seeing that, but she felt that something was lacking. “and your food is getting cold.”

“oh, right,” sana then picks up her cutlery and gets into action. she must've been hungry too. “why are you in new york, though?”

“do you want a stupid answer or a good answer?”

“both.”

“i'm tired of finding girls in seoul,” you joked. “and my, supposed to be, our apartment was rotting so i had to stay. plus, i got a two year contract for building a 35-storey office in manhattan. although it's technically a refurbishment project, since it has so many floors it'll probably take some time.”

“oh, that's why…” she then ate away what she was about to say. she knows you were joking from your first statement, but she can't help but think about it.

“i was too busy finishing my job before i can even party, don't worry about that,” you said. “anyways, why new york though?”

“no one knows me here,” sana says as she chews on her syrup drizzled waffles. “although, i did meet an old friend, no one knows me here.”

“hm, okay,” you just nodded. “and the old friend?”

“mina.” she smiles.

“wait, sorry? mina?”

“yeah!” she says, quite amused at the situation. “i think i told you before that i had a friend that went to the states and grew up here too.”

“hm, yeah you did,” you muffled as you were still eating. “do you know her girlfriend? momo?”

“yeah,” sana nodded. “wait. you know momo?”

you just nodded. “she's a friend from college who moved here immediately after getting a good hire from a famous firm.”

“oh, so you know momo.” she laughed to herself. she just can't believe how small the world is, and she ends up always having to meet you. it just seems to her that you'll always find her.

“do you have like,” you looked at her again as you took a sip from the cola. “a job?”

“oh, yeah,” she smiles. “i work at a company and it's just in soho,” she explains. “what about you?”

“i'm in midtown manhattan,” you said. “it's quite terrifying to get lost in the subways, though.”

“you still work late?”

you just nodded, “of course. i can't avoid it.”

“hm,” sana thinks. you work late. you rarely open the windows. you work at the most exhausting part of new york. she clears her throat. “um, do you have a, like…” she hesitates. it's quite the dumb question to ask if you ghosted someone. “girlfriend or a fling?”

“honestly?” you asked in a sharp tone that gets to her ears so well it makes her heart go faster. “i would love to.” you teased. “but, i'm too busy with work, still very stuck up with this one person and that one person happens to be just in front of me.”

sana just watched you eat away the final bites from your food as you smiled to yourself. she just can't figure it out. you were straightforward back then, and it's the same case up until now.

“what if i'm not here?”

“i'm still going to be very busy though,” you said. “so my thoughts really can't escape beyond what i do for work, and you.”

sana, unbelievably so, blushed. “oh.”

“it's kinda scary and amusing, actually,” you said, reflecting on the past few days, weeks, and months. “it's like i'm just thinking of you. when i'm not thinking about how i’d do my work and evaluate my team’s work, i think about if you already had lunch, or if you got late at work, or if you had your morning coffee— you know, trivial stuff like that which i usually ask you.”

“really?” she then beams, the situation making her overly happy. “i, um,” she calms herself down and breathes deep before saying, “think of that too. if you're pissed off because you don't have the right pencil to draw with, or if you got your favorite coffee, what did you eat for breakfast, what do you wanna eat for lunch… stuff like that fills my mind all the time.”

you just nodded. you don't know what to feel about it. you don't even know what to feel about anything that's happening right now. it seems like you really needed her in front of you to explain what she did, but a part of you thinks that this isn't enough. a part of you was still doubtful of it, but a part of you wants to just engulf her in your hug, knowing just how much she hid from you.

she had every right to be scared. you just don't know how she had the heart to leave.

“when i left,” sana sits back on the couch again, sighing deeply. “i don't want you to pity me or anything, honestly i want you to be super angry at me,” she joked. “i hesitated. i didn't like imagining how you'd lose yourself, get drunk, find another girl,” she emits a weary breath. “but then, i flew here and lived by myself as i promised, ignored your calls, your texts— just to find myself still listening to your voice at night, looking at the photos of us to relive those moments that i had with you. i was so stupid.”

“you are,” you said. “but i can't be mad at you.”

“why?”

“i just can't deny the fact that i have a lot of love in my heart for you that it consumes any other feeling that i have in me,” you explained. “i’m fine with it now since you admitted to yourself. i'm sorry too if i got too ahead, sana.”

“you don't need to be.” she smiles. “you were just expecting the obvious.”

“why did you get scared of it, though?”

“i know that you'll treat me right, but there are so many doubts that i had,” she pondered. “but it's mostly on my part. i didn't like seeing myself not being able to commit to you. i hated that at some point, i’ll be the one to leave, so i left before anything worse can happen.”

“okay,” you sighed. “what do you wanna do now?”

sana softly laughs, “ah, well,” she looks down on her food again. “i honestly want to win you back.”

“i'm not a trophy, sana,” you joked. “but then, if that's what you want,” you looked at her, that feeling of spark rising within you as she let her honey brown eyes meet yours. “i’d let you do it. it's not going to be easy though.”

“i know,” sana murmured. “and i'm gonna try my very best.”

you laughed, seeing the determination that rises in her— cheeks flushed, eyes sparkly, just like how you remembered her. “good luck.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

that night was the first time you slept well without alcohol, and sana, as you saw from across the window, slept on the couch comfortably as she watched her favorite tv show. (you bet that she finished the series already, and that she's only rewatching it.)

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

the morning comes and someone comes knocking at your door, calling your full government name like you're getting arrested for tax fraud.

“yeah, wait,” you rub your eyes, trying to get all the morning dust out of the way. you opened to see sana, smiling like she was the sun. “oh, hi.”

“hello,” she sing-songed. “i just wanted to drop by,” she handed you over a bag. you wondered, one of your eyebrows lifting as you held it. “breakfast. your favorite,” she chuckled as she pats down the stray hair from your sleep. “eat well.”

“nice,” you chuckled, prying the bag open. “have you eaten already?”

“uh, yeah,” she said, nervously palming the back of her neck. “i'm about to go now, actually.”

“are you sure? this is a lot,” you smiled, seeing the big container of your favorite breakfast. “you know i don't eat that much.”

“you know what,” sana laughs. “just tell me if you wanna eat with me.”

“i have extra plates, come on,” you respond, letting her in your apartment. she was resisting at first, stepping away from the door, but then, you showed her the best puppy eyes that she'll always fall for, and she's trapped when you said, “please.”

“okay,” she smiles and comes inside your apartment, leaving her shoes by the step before going in. “looks warm here.”

“hm,” you nodded, taking out the big container out of the bag. “you really cooked, huh.” you saw that it really was your favourite breakfast, one with fried rice, eggs, and spam. it was a simple meal you always shared with her in your apartment before you went to work.

you move to pull out a chair for her, and you get the cutlery from your kitchen. “do you want coffee?”

“yeah, that'll be nice,” she smiles. she doesn't know how weird it feels how you easily go into the routine that you had when you two were still together. it was always like this, your back facing her as you were busy in the kitchen, making sure that her breakfast is great, and that she'll start her day as great as possible. “can i have it i-”

“iced, three pumps of cream, and vanilla.” you recite as you run your espresso machine. “i still don't know how you like your coffee so sweet.”

“well, thanks for remembering that,” sana laughs, glad to know that you still question the amount of sugar to coffee ratio on her drink. “how about you? still a shot of espresso, a pump of creamer, and iced?”

you nodded, funnily so. you didn't expect that you've spent that much time with sana that she knows you, down to your littlest, mundane, and absurd routines.

you smiled at her as you made way to the table, sitting across her like you usually do. for a while, you forget that sana ghosted you for months.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

to say that you were sana's love of her life was an understatement. seeing you again, like this, eating your favorite breakfast after not reaching out to you for months makes her throat and eyes burn. it's ridiculous of her to let you live alone, to let you be deprived of her love.

it continues, you two fall back into a simple routine.

sana spends the mornings with breakfast she makes at the crack of dawn and you two share, you fix yourself as sana waits, and you get unexpectedly early at your office.

during the afternoons, you have coffee that she bought in hand, something she's been weirdly doing every now and then, even dropping by to your office. during the night, she fetches you, saying that: “it's gonna be a waste of energy if you go home by the subway, we're literally living across each other.”

occasionally, and during the weekends, sana, if time permits, takes you to restaurants, bars, or parks to ease your mind. new york was huge, and you're surprised she knows it down to a t, and to it's hidden spots.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

she knows that the schedule of yours was very hectic. she dreads that more as you spend less time with her, since recently as you held the ground-breaking for the site.

“it was a mini project that they didn't tell me about,” you munched on the churros she bought you before you sat down on one of the steps facing the vast, winding hudson river. “and you know, it made me much busier than i am.”

“you need a raise,” sana laughs. “and 20 leaves.”

“they're giving me a raise,” you laugh as well, finally easing up. “so yeah, but i still became more busy.”

sana sighs as she stares off at the sight. the skyline of new york fades away as the sun starts to set, and the lights of the buildings slowly turn on.

it was a moment. it reminded you that you needed time, whether productive or not.

you just needed time.

“sana,” you then looked at her. “what do you think about coming back together?”

“what do you mean?” sana nervously laughs. she didn't expect for you to say it sooner. it's only been two months since you started reconciling.

“us,” your eyes stared at her honey brown ones like they're the only things you've ever known. “look, i just-”

“i realized that i can’t go a day without you,” you sighed in relief as you then held both of her hands, saying your truth. “i figured that i was thinking too ahead, and i didn't give you time and i ruined that for us. i'm sorry-”

sana then pulls you into a warm, loving hug, “you don't need to be. i'm the one who left, right?”

“yeah, bu-”

“i'm the one who left,” she repeats, trying to sink those words into your head. “and i think i'm not trying my best getting you back just yet.”

“but you are,” you whispered. “i just want you to call me yours again, please.”

“god,” sana lowly chuckled as she ran a hand behind your back, comforting you. “you don't know how much i've been waiting for this, my love.”

you sinked your head into her neck, trying to suppress your feelings as you heard that one phrase you've wanted to hear from her for months. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” sana then kisses your forehead gently as you close your eyes, savoring this little moment in time with her. “i hope i could prove that every day.”

“you don't need to,” you held her hand again and kissed it. “just stay by my side. it'll be enough.”

sana held your cheek with her hand, soft against the surface of it, as she brushed her thumb below your eyelid, something she always does like a little habit. “okay,” she comes closer to meet her forehead with yours, and locks your lips as you two share a longing, electrifying kiss. she smiles, lips inward as you pull away. “i waited for that, too.”

“well, that's just fair.” you then held her hand as she wrapped her arm on your shoulders, letting you lean onto her. you two stared off at the view, just admiring the warmth of the sunset before it gets cold during the night.

“and i’ll always wait,” sana whispered. “i won't get tired.”

you then smiled, now holding the hand that was on your shoulder as you stared off the river in a comforting silence. “as long as you're with me,” you then looked at her. “i won't mind taking time and waiting.”

#twice imagines #twice fluff #twice angst #sana imagines #sana fluff #sana angst

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 22)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

Unable to resist such temptation, you pulled these envelopes out and quickly scanned through their content. Each letter was at least two pages long, hand-written in a beautiful, precise script that you recognized as belonging to Tommy himself.

These letters spanned over months, detailing unspeakable fantasies and admissions of a kind you never imagined him to be capable of expressing.

Tommy's usual cold facade gave way to a longing and vulnerability that struck you deeply as he wrote that he believed he could spend the rest of his life with you, had it not been for the blood they shared. He revealed he often wished to be close to you, but never quite dared to cross that boundary again, held back by the family's needs. 

It seemed as though Tommy's thoughts often wandered back to you, even after all this time, grappling with the same questions of affection that had haunted you after you had left for Boston. 

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you finally understood the depth of pain that remained between you two after you had separated from one another and just as you folded the letters back up, one by one, you were caught by Tommy himself as he entered his office, looking for you. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, voice like a whip cracking through the tense atmosphere.

The surprise in his eyes, coupled with the anger, said it all and, as you mustered up the courage to confront him, you held the letters out to him, still trembling in your hands.

"I wanted to find some writing paper and I stumbled upon these. I didn't mean to snoop, but...," you began to plead earnestly, trying to explain yourself in the midst of your shame and guilt. "I saw that they were addressed to me and you never sent them, so I just. . . I got curious."

Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you tried to gauge Tommy's reaction and, as you did, you could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Why didn't you send them?" you then whispered softly, unable to contain your burning curiosity.

"I didn't see the point," Tommy admitted bluntly, snatching the letters out of your hand and tossing them carelessly onto his desk.

"Why not?" you pressed on, eager to understand the reason behind his decision to keep these heartfelt confessions from you.

Tommy paused for a moment, staring at you with an intensity that took your breath away. He looked as if he was wrestling with his own thoughts, whether to tell you the truth or not.

"Because I knew that I could never have you," he said finally, reluctance heavy in his voice.

Tommy's admission left you stunned, and your eyes widened in shock at the raw honesty in his words.

"I was foolish to imagine that we could ever be together," he continued, his voice hoarse as he struggled to conceal his pain.

You stared back at him, unsure of how to respond and, instead of using words, you allowed your actions to speak.

Taking a step forward, you closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You then rested your head against his shoulder, sighing deeply before pressing your lips gently against the soft cotton of his shirt.

"I missed you, Tommy," you whispered softly while Tommy remained still and silent, struggling with the emotions swirling wildly within him before reaching out tentatively to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I missed you too," he eventually confessed, his voice barely audible as sighed deeply, wondering how to move forward from this moment. 

"Please, don't pull away from me. Not again," you pleaded, feeling Tommy's muscles tense under your fingertips.

You were acutely aware of the pressure building between you, and the sexual energy surging through your veins as his hands moved from your hair to your lower back, pulling you closer still until you could feel the rigid contours of his body pressed firmly against yours.

"Y/N," Tommy gasped, trying to distance himself once more but you would not let him this time. 

Unable to resist him any longer, you let your hands trail up from his waist to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beating beneath your fingertips. With each passing moment, the attraction between you grew more potent, as intense as ever before.

So much so, that, when Tommy’s fingers trailed lower to grasp the curve of your backside, it was all you could do to stifle the jolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core. Your breath hitched in your throat, body trembling as you fought to maintain some semblance of control.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you tipped your head back, granting Tommy access to that tender vulnerability that he craved.

His skin met yours with a promise that tingled in every nerve ending, igniting a fire within you, burning for answers only Tommy could provide all while your fingers clutched desperately at the fabric of his shirt.

Then finally, Tommy cupped your face within his sizable palms, thumbing away the tears that cascaded down your flushed cheeks without warning before dipping his head to claim your mouth with the very same ferocity that he waged war with the world outside.

Feeling his lips on yours again brought back memories which you tried to forget but never could. You grazed his bottom lip gently, coaxing him to deepen the kiss with a subtle circles of your tongue around the corners of his mouth until he relented.

A familiar moan escaped your lips as Tommy consumed you whole.

Your tongues intertwined, exploring fervently, tasting the bitter tang of tobacco on his lips with a hunger that couldn't be quenched.

Lost in the passionate whirlwind of fervent lips and tangled tongues, you managed to forget where you were and whom you were with, even if only for a brief moment and, before you even knew what had hit you, Tommy's hands had made quick work of unbuttoning your blouse.

"We shouldn't," you murmured feebly, although the catch in your voice betrayed how much you truly meant those words.

"No, probably not," Tommy agreed as his fingers traveled lightly over the expanse of your chest, curling around the slim strap of your bra before pulling it down seductively, revealing the soft mound of your breast.

You inhaled sharply, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation flooding through your body as his fingers circled your nipple, teasing it into a tight, sensitive peak.

"But, fuck, Y/N. I need you, and I think you need me just as much, eh," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as you tilt your head back, granting him further access to the expanse of your exposed skin.

His breath tickled the sensitive spot beneath your ear, inciting another shudder to ripple through you as you tugged on his suit jacket, wanting him to take it off.

As if on autopilot, Tommy obliged, shrugging his jacket off before tossing it carelessly aside. He then took off his gun holster , never letting his gaze waver from your own.

His mere presence demanded attention in every room he entered, and it was no different now. In fact, the anticipation of what was to come was almost as tantalizing as the act itself, toying with every nerve ending in your body.

His fingers brushed against yours as you both worked to unfasten his belt while, at the same time, he pushed you backwards gently, causing your back to make contact with his large study desk.

Shifting your body, you hoisted yourself upwards, allowing you to sit on the cold cedar. Your skirt rode up your thighs as you did, revealing more of your bare leg for him to admire.

You then reached beneath your skirt , gently tugging at the hem of your panties, helping him remove them with ease as he leaned over the desk, bracing himself against it.

"I need you inside me right now, Tommy," you panted, breath hitching in anticipation as you locked gazes with him, urging him on as he stepped in between your welcoming legs.

"Patience has never been your strong point Love," Tommy chuckled as a thrill of pleasure pulsed through you when you felt his fingers graze along your inner thighs, the weight of your anticipation pushing down heavily upon you. There was no other sound except the counting of your own shallow breaths as he trailed slow and delicate kisses along your neckline, eliciting shivers that started to tremble up from your very soul.

Pushing down his trousers and undergarments in one swift motion, Tommy revealed his arousal to you, hard and throbbing.

Aroused by the sight, your hands moved towards his length and Tommy paused momentarily, staring deep into your eyes, searching for any lingering doubt or apprehension. Finding none, his movements became urgent, filling a longing need deep within both of you as he aligned himself with your entrance.

With one fluid motion, Tommy thrust into you, filling you completely. You gasped, the sharp intake of breath echoing throughout the quiet room. The feel of him, hot and aching, sent waves of pleasure crashing through you as your fingers dug into his muscular back.

The sweet sensation of him moving inside you, filling you, was almost overwhelming. Desire coursed through your veins, demanding you surrender to everything this moment promised. Your bodies melded together, so perfectly attuned to every shift and twitch, as though fate itself had conspired to unite you.

"Y/N, look at me," Tommy whispered hoarsely, the gravelly tone of desire nearly muffling his plea. His face, etched with deep lines and shadows characteristic of a man who had endured so much torment in his life, appeared almost like a stranger's.

But his eyes, the same shade of blue you remembered so vividly, they bore into yours, delivering waves of emotion that quickly overpowered the rational part of your mind.

"I love you," Tommy confessed, thrusting harder as each charged word left his lips, chasing away the old ghosts, if only for a brief instant.

"I love  you too Tommy," you murmured against his ear, arching your back as warmth spread from the core of your being, seeping into every vein. "Oh god, don't fucking stop," you moaned, clutching at Tommy's shoulders as he rhythmically thrust into you, driving you closer and closer to the edge of pure bliss. 

Perched upon the solid, polished oak desk, your limbs trembled as you tightened your grip around his shoulders. 

"I am so close ," you whimpered wantonly, a curse coiling within your throat as you surrendered to the rising tide of pleasure ebbing through every nerve.

Your knees clenched around his waist, pulling him deeper into your warmth. His ragged breaths became ardent moans resonating throughout the room, igniting an electric impulse of ecstasy as the tempo escalated between you before, suddenly and without warning, your husband 's voice pierced through the sound of your intoxicated gasps.

"What the bloody hell," Robert gasped loudly, unable to actually form a coherent sentence as he stood stock still, mouth agape. Shock and disgust painted themselves across his face as he took in the sight of what he had just witnessed. 

"Jesus, fucking Christ!" Tommy barked, releasing a string of curses as he quickly untangled himself from you, frantically grabbing his clothes in an attempt to shield whatever modesty remained after the carnal exchange. Stumbling blindly, he made his way around the opposite side of the large desk where Robert still stood, in utter disbelief while you fumbled with your skirt and blouse to cover up your nakedness. 

"Robert," you managed to splutter out, grasping for words and finding none as the realization of what he had just walked in on was like a bucket of icy water coldly splashing onto Robert's features. "This is not what it looks like," you quickly attempted to say, but the evidence of your indiscretion was undeniable, served up on a silver platter for Robert's eyes to feast upon.

The discomfort between those present was palpable now, exacerbated by Tommy's reluctance to cover himself fully in front of Robert. His shirt, still unbuttoned, hung open to reveal the honed lines of his torso and, although he had succeeded in hiding his arousal, Tommy's face still contained traces of unquenched desire.

Robert's gaze flickered back and forth between you and Tommy, barely managing to conceal his revulsion at the thought of you cheating on him with your very own uncle and, then suddenly, he spoke up.

"You are fucking disgusting, both of you!" he spat, eyes flashing with anger and confusion. "You fucking Gypsies," he muttered derisively, shaking his head from side to side in utter disbelief. Disgust coated his lips like poison as   he sneered down his nose at you, unable to grasp the extent of the twisted affair that had unfolded before him. "This," he pointed accusingly toward you and Tommy, "is a disgrace and, I have no doubt that your wife and your political acquaintances will want to hear about your sick little affair with your niece," Robert then said, pointing his finger at Tommy who stood there, silently until now, assessing the situation. 

"Are you fucking threatening me?" Tommy  narrowed his eyes, placing his hands firmly on the desk, on either side of him.

His calm demeanor belied the rage building within. The thought that Robert believed he could strong-arm him into submission was laughable, but he wasn't in the mood for laughing.

"Perhaps I am," Robert said , attempting to stand his ground, but visibly trembling as Tommy's towering figure stood dangerously close.

Tommy chuckled quietly, his anger lingering under the surface, and you could see the conflict in his expression – weighing the consequences of what he should do or say next.

"Don't, please," you tried to intervene as, eventually, Tommy walked towards his office door to close it before approaching Robert with a sly grin on his face.

There was no fear present in his striking features, only a silent, lethal promise.

"I see that my niece hasn't told you about me and about what I do, eh?" Tommy smirked, eyes cold as ice as he looked directly into Robert's soul. Robert's face paled, suddenly realizing the weight of his words and actions. "Because, if she had, then you wouldn't be making threats." 

Fear crept into his eyes and, although Tommy was his equal in height, Robert was no match for the powerful man that stood before him. He had witnessed the darkness that stirred within Tommy's being in that moment, and he had made a terrible mistake threatening him.

Tommy walked slowly around Robert, circling him like a predator stalking its prey.

"Now, why don't you have a seat Robert ," Tommy suggested, gesturing towards one of the leather chairs in the room. He kept his voice even, but there was an undertone of danger.

Uncertainty flickered across Robert's face and, for a heartbeat, you feared he might challenge Tommy's authority. But, ultimately, prudence prevailed and he sank cautiously into the chair.

"You see, I don't like being threatened," Tommy reiterated, his voice low and laden with menace. "And all men who have threatened me in the past are not around anymore now to carry out their threats, so I suggest you consider your next words more carefully,"  he added with a wicked glint in his eyes.

The tension in the air hung thickly as Tommy leaned in closer to Robert, towering over him. Their faces were inches apart, and you could see the fear building within Robert's eyes as he realized the sheer power that the man before him possessed.

"You can't scare me," Robert muttered , trying to maintain his composure, but his voice wavered and cracked, giving away his fear.

"Oh, I can and I will," Tommy replied confidently, pointing his finger towards Robert's face. "Even in Boston I have the resources to ruin you if you ever decide to cross me again, or speak of what you witnessed here tonight. I have men on my payroll who, even in Boston, can make you disappear and, trust me, these men have quite a reputation of not being kind when disposing of threats," Tommy cursed under his breath, his frustration taking over as the color drained from Robert's face.

Robert stared, wide-eyed as the calculated confidence behind Tommy's words penetrated his arrogant, naive mind. Tommy was no stranger to the extreme lengths he was willing to go to secure his family's safety and their empire.

After a long pause, and without taking his eyes off Robert's ghostly face, Tommy continued.

"Now, you have two options, Robert," Tommy declared. "You can either keep your mouth shut and stay alive, or you can cross me and end up in the hands of my men, who I will instruct to keep a close eye on you," Tommy said with a deadly calm that chilled everyone in the room. 

"Robert, please. I am sorry, but you need understand," you began to say , your voice barely above a whisper, trying to appeal to the sense of reason that you thought might reside somewhere within him. 

Robert stared at you, his eyes devoid of compassion. "I need to understand what?" he asked, shaking his head. "That your family is running a criminal empire and that you are involved with your uncle?"  Robert finished for you, disdain twisting his features.  "Is Edward his son?" Robert demanded, any hint of genuine concern for you tainted by bitterness, jealousy, and disgust.

You trembled under the weight of his gaze, for what could you possibly say? You yearned to tell him the truth, but a tangled web of emotions and fears held you back.

"You know what? It doesn't really matter anymore Y/N. I always had a feeling that, what your family was involved in, was not entirely legal, but this is beyond my comprehension," he finally relented, running his hands through his dark hair in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry, Robert," you whispered, feeling an immense agony swell in your chest. "I don't have a simple explanation or justification for what I have done and I know that you will never forgive me for my indiscretion, but I need you to promise me to keep quiet about it all and not utter a word to anyone about this," you begged him and Robert looked at you, as though trying to gauge your sincerity, then nodded slowly. 

"I won't say a word," he murmured then, but there was no warmth in his voice and you knew it was only a cold and strictly practical promise. 

"Good boy," Tommy replied, standing tall with an unmistakable air of superiority. "Now, I suggest you get yourself a room at the Midland and a ticket for the next plane back to Boston. I will have one of my men accompany you once you have gathered your personal belongings," Tommy said, camouflaging his relief with the usual confident facade.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: A Haunting.

Pairing: Yandere!Bruce Wayne x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 1.2k.

TW: Implied Stalking, Nonconsensual Touching, and Obsessive Behavior.

It was following you again.

A flickering shadow, skirting along the edges of rooftops and the wired frames of fire escapes, constantly slipping in and out of the corner of your vision. You’d seen it last night, too, falling from your balcony when you finally managed to tear yourself away from your laptop, and the night before that, on your way to grab something from the only corner store that was still open by the time you could force yourself to leave your apartment. You thought you’d be able to make it home uninterrupted tonight, but you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like Gotham had ever been a particularly kind place to the people who just wanted to survive.

You caught something shifting in your peripheral, but kept yourself from snapping in its direction. It was better not to pay attention, to keep your eyes down and your hood pulled up and focus on getting home, into the relative safe-space that was your shitty apartment in your shitty building in your shitty neighborhood. It was better to concentrate on cutting corners than the two, identical pinpricks burying themselves in the nape of your neck. It was better to breathe, to try to keep a hold on your own pulse rather than pay any attention to the steady, muted footsteps trailing behind you. It was better to—

You cut into a narrow alleyway, took a few steps, and immediately ran into a dead-end.

Fuck.

You took a wrong turn.

The footsteps were closer, now, on cement rather than hollow steel. You spun on your heels, pressing your back into the brick wall that’d smothered your escape route, but that only managed to make you feel smaller, more cornered as you tried to make out any features of the dark, looming shape slowly approaching you. You tried to remember which villains were active in this area, if there was a curfew that you’d chosen to ignore, but your thoughts went blank as the dim light flowing in from the main street caught on the silver of brass knuckles and serrated throwing knives, as a pitch-black cape slid off of a shoulder too stiff not to be armored, and…

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Oh my god,” You mumbled, shaking your head. Batman, as odd as it felt to refer to him as that, didn’t seem perturbed, only coming to a stop in front of you. “You scared the hell out of me, Batman, sir. I wouldn’t have been so freaked out if I knew it was you.”

“I… apologize for that.” You’d never heard him speak, before. His voice was raspier than you thought it’d be – a lot deeper, too. Compared to the other local vigilantes you’d run into (particularly, Nightwing’s hyper-cheeriness or Orphan’s total silence), it wasn’t completely unpleasant. “I didn’t—” He seemed to interrupt himself, to trip over his words. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve called him nervous. “I’ve seen you walking alone, before. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Is anything safe in Gotham?” You laughed. He didn’t. Rubbing the back of your neck, you forced yourself to shut your mouth, swallow your humiliation, and go on in a way that wouldn't embarrass you in front of the city's greatest protector. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t do anything to add to your workload. My boss is sort of a sadist, though. Believe it or not, this was the earliest I could get out.”

He didn’t respond to that, not immediately. He scanned over you, instead, his eyes drifting from your face to your wrinkled post-shift hoodie and back again. He raised his hand, and you kept yourself from pulling away as gloved fingertips ghosted over your jaw. You’d almost forgotten about the small bandage plastered over your eye until he brushed against it – a result of a short-lived bar fight that’d gotten out of hand while you were behind the counter. It’d stopped bleeding in a few seconds, but better safe than sorry, right?

“Oh, that’s nothing you have to worry about.” You tried to smile, to shrug, but he was already cupping your face, tilting your head to the side with more force than he seemed to realize he was using. It was obviously a reflex; one he’d probably earned from years of protecting injured civilians. Your personal space, and the bruise his grip would leave on your jaw, were insignificant, in comparison. “Just a minor incident at work. It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

For whatever reason, that didn’t seem to satisfy him. “You should be more careful. A dive bar with a reputation like that isn’t a good place to spend your time.”

…huh.

You were starting to think he might’ve been better as a shadow.

“I don’t remember—”

“You should move, too.” You were really, really starting to prefer his shadow. “Your neighbor, three doors to the left – you know he’s wanted for arson in another city, don’t you? It’s dangerous for you to be so close to such an unstable person.”

It occurred to you, for possibly the first time since he’d initially shown himself, that you were in a dark alley, in the middle of the night, totally unarmed and totally trapped by a man who seemed to know you better than you knew him. You tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t just any man – it was Batman, but that name brought you less reassurance than it had, a few minutes ago.

“Uh, Batman, sir,” You started, suddenly struggling just to spit something out. “I… I really think I should be getting home.”

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve said he was smiling. “Of course. I’ll take you back to your apartment.” And then, after a short pause. “To make sure you don’t get hurt, again.”

His hand dropped from your cheek to your wrist. He began to pull you forward, but you dug your heels into the cement, jerking yourself out of his hold. His reaction was immediate, instinctual – a sharpened glare, a deepened scowl, only fazed by your clumsy attempts to stumble around him, to back towards the main road without letting your stiff grin falter. “I’m alright, I—” You cut yourself off, biting down on the side of your tongue. “I just don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

He took a step towards you. You took one back. “So, you don’t want a superhero escort?”

“It’s late, and I—”

“You’re willingly putting yourself in danger.” You spared a glance over your shoulder. “You asking me to let you put yourself in harm’s—”

“Please.” You shrunk into yourself, shutting your eyes. “Please, sir, I just want to go home.”

You felt his gaze burning into you, for a few seconds.

But, when you found the courage to open your eyes again, he was gone.

His absence might’ve been more comforting, if you hadn’t still been able to see that little, flickering shadow in the corner of your eye.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #batman x reader #yandere dc #bruce wayne x reader #dc x reader #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #dc imagines #yandere dc imagines #yanderecore #yancore

[kishibe-kisser]

Wish I never met you (Ghost)

A/N: It's finally here. I'm really proud of this one. Sorry it took so long to finish. Life really spiralled out of control. But if you still want to take the time to read this I would greatly appreciate it.

Tags: Zombie Apocalypse au!, Ghost x afab!reader, mentions of blood, death, mentions of suicide, Soap, Price, yelling, arguing, enemies to lovers, smut

Smut tags: kissing, p in v, oral (reader receiving), nipple play

Word count: 13173 words

Tag list: @mildlyhopeless @twdhtgawm @lilliumrorum

No one ever mentions how heavy a dead body is, not when the topic arises. The dead weight of someone in your arms, with absolutely no help. No it’s not something that crosses someone’s mind when thinking about death. You had never thought about it until now and well, he was so heavy, between all of the gear and the size of him, it was nearly impossible to pull him further than a few feet at a time.

Tears blurred your vision, dripping down your face and making it hard to identify where you were. It wasn’t something you normally had to pay attention to, he did that enough for the both of you, his head always on a swivel. Trying to pull him along from under his arms, your feet dug into the dirt and you put all your strength into it before falling over. His body laying on your legs as you couldn’t find the strength to move anymore. Blood filled your mouth as you bit your lips to stop the screaming, the familiar metallic taste making the tears fall even harder.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You apologized softly, cradling his head in your arms as you gave up. “I can’t do this.” You said even softer, refusing to look at him and looking up at the dark sky. Screaming wasn’t an option, screaming meant losing both of your bodies forever and you were damned if you were going to let that happen. You were going to bring him home, you had to bring him home, you owed that to him. “Damn you.” You cried, smacking his still chest. “I wish I had never met you Simon Riley.” You meant every word, more tears falling from your eyes with each syllable. In a world like this it was better to be alone and before him, you knew that… before him, it was the way you survived.

Pressing your ear to the door, you listened diligently for shuffling or any other signs of life. There wasn’t a sound and while that would have been enough for someone else, it wasn’t enough for you. You absolutely didn’t trust it, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you walked into an apartment expecting to find it empty only to be rushed at by one of those things. No, you couldn’t be reckless like that.

Gently you rapped your fingers against the door, loud enough to create the softest sound but not loud enough for any other apartment to even catch a peep. You pressed your ear to the door again, once again not hearing a sound and only then did you decide it was safe enough to try. So far, your apartment building had been a gold mine. The apartments on your floor having had enough supplies to keep you alive this long. It felt seemingly unscathed aside from the few undead stragglers, it was nearly empty. It had been a blessing and a curse to you, thinking about your neighbors that were most likely long gone. The building had been full of families, parents who worked and children who went to school, families who simply were living their lives when the world ended. The outbreak hitting the big cities the hardest towards the middle of the day, no one had been home, well almost no one. It was hard to believe a simple cold was what kept you alive that day, having decided that morning that it wasn’t worth the fight to go into work.

Guilt filled your body each time you broke into someone else’s home and saw the life they had left behind. The pictures on the walls, the vases filled with dead flowers and children play room’s with untouched teddy bears, they haunted you as you tried to sleep every night.

You sighed stepping into the empty apartment, a sigh of relief that nothing had come running at you the second the door opened and a knowing sigh that this apartment would soon also become a location for your nightmares.

This apartment wasn’t familiar to you in the slightest, never having it’s residents before and that made it a little easier. Looking around you took in the décor and the details as you shut the front door behind you. Your hand gripped your knife tightly, just in case as you wandered around. You nearly passed the old photo hanging on the wall, a wedding photo of the couple that most likely lived here in their old age. A stinging sensation filled your chest and you shook your head. “Don’t think about it.” You mumbled to yourself, brushing past it quickly to make your way to the kitchen. “Don’t think about it.” You repeated to yourself as you rummaged through their cabinets and took any canned item you could find. While this was the new normal, stealing from people never felt normal.

However you weren’t against the little joys in life, spotting a can of cherry pie filling that made you smile. This was going to be your treat and those were few and far between. Rummaging through the drawers, you found a can opener and sat down on the couch. Was it your most shining moment, no, did it matter? Absolutely not. The sweet cherry taste made you damn near moan as you spooned them out of the can.

You pulled your knees under your chin, still eating the pie filling as you pretended life was normal for a moment before nearly jumping out of your skin at a sound. It wasn’t the sound of zombies or an animal, no it was the sound of people and those were nine times out of ten worse than the undead.

Shuffling around to your pack, you left your treat behind. This was stressful because there was no way to tell what category they fell into, meaning you had to get out before you found out. That was just what you were trying to do as you gripped your knife, slowly and carefully opening the front door again. You hadn’t however, anticipated the three guns trained on you or the heavily armed men staring you dead on from your crack in the door.

“You bit?” The one with a thick mustache asked and you shook your head, knife still gripped in your hand but out of sight from them. You could swear they could hear your heartbeat, through your clothes and through the wood of the door. Your pause in answering was for two reasons: one, you were taking in their appearance, military uniforms on, heavy gear and vests and one wearing a skull mask and two, you were trying to keep your voice steady despite your whole body shaking. They seemed like military men, but the mask was throwing you off…that and the way his intense eyes were staring at you.

“No. Could ask the same thing.” You said, all your efforts to keep your voice from shaking out the window. “As that is your right, no we’re all clear.” The man said with a smile, but you didn’t feel at ease, not quite yet. “Put the knife down.” The man in the skull mask said and your eyes shot to him with fear. How did he know? “I don’t think that’s fair. There’s three of you and one of me.” You admitted and watched the smallest of the three let out a laugh. “Honest, I like it.” He remarked but laughter was the last thing on your mind. “I understand the caution especially in times like this. We’re from the military base near by and we have been trying to clear buildings and get civilians a place of refuge. We aren’t here to harm.” It was true, times like this were hard and a little extra caution wasn’t an excessive luxury.

Maybe it was your lack of social interaction or maybe it was the sugar rush from the pie filling you ate, but you pulled the door open and maybe misplaced some trust into these men. It was also partially the idea of refuge. You hadn’t spoken to anyone but yourself in months and while you were absolutely terrified and outnumbered, your gut wasn’t yelling at you.

The second the door opened more, the man with the skull mask pulled you forward and knocked your knife out of your hand. “Just a precaution.” Skull mask grumbled, hands roughly tracing over your body. It wasn’t in an invasive way of any sort but in a protective way, just to make sure you weren’t hiding anything. His touches nearly knocked you over, not quite steady on your feet and you braced yourself on the wall for a moment. “Easy, Ghost.” The man with the mustache said, raising his hand to calm the other man’s movements. “Yeah, easy. I don’t have anything to hide.” You said, feeling venomous towards the man. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.” He said in your ear, finishing his pat down and moving to your backpack.

You stood against the door, watching them go through your things. It felt invasive, them taking the cans of food from your bag and looking through the change of clothes you always had with you. The book you were reading even fell to the floor and you sighed, bending over to pick it up.

“I think it’s fair, considering I’m outnumbered and you’ve held my underwear in your hands that I know your names.” You said, fidgeting with your book in your hand. The way these men searched your things and conducted their business had you convinced, that and the closer look to their badges and uniforms. “Captain John Price.” The man with the mustache told you, extending his hand to you. Hesitantly, you took it and watched as the man with the skull mask made sure you didn’t make any sudden moves. He hadn’t eliminated you as a threat just yet, nor did he appreciate your attitude.

“I’m Soap and our cheery friend here is Ghost.” The smaller of the three clasped his hand on the man’s shoulder. Ghost wasn’t one for situations like this, which made him the best one to take on jobs like this. While they were all good at paying extra attention in situations like this, he truly excelled at reading the room. When it came to character judgement however, he was still learning and he always would be. A rough childhood would do that to you, it made you see people a little darker than the average person. So your attitude didn’t spark any warm feelings in him, all he saw was a nervous doe in wolves clothing.

“You live here?” He asked, handing you your bag back but not your knife. “Haven’t left the building since this all started.” You admitted, looking to your shoes and avoiding the eyes on you. “Haven’t talked to anyone since this all started.” You added on and shook your head at your own sad admission. “Are there a lot of people? Where you guys are?” You asked suddenly, a wave of hope filling your chest only to be shot down instantly. “You’re in no position to be asking questions.” Ghost interrupted, watching the temporary light leave your eyes. They had a nice haven going, with families, a community and self sufficient living. There was a lot to lose by bringing in the wrong person.

“There are. We have a community all living in the base barracks.” Price told you, raising his hand to Ghost to tell him to lay off. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into his lieutenant, but something had sparked an immediate dislike towards you and he didn’t understand why. Besides, personal opinion in international crisis was the last of anyone’s worry. Everyone deserved a chance to survive, everyone deserved a chance to be protected. It was why they had all joined the service in the first place.

You didn’t tell them about your apartment, or that you had a lot of things still left there. You figured should their refuge not be what you expected, you could always come back. At least that was what you were telling yourself. It wasn’t that you wanted to come back, you didn’t want to need to, you wanted this to work. Even if Ghost was staring at you like you were seconds committing a crime at all time, if you had to live like that it was fine. You wanted to live, to survive and who knows how long you still would have lasted in that building. If the military were the ones to find the building, you were lucky, it could have been a lot worse and ended very differently.

That was what you were telling yourself as you were pulled out of their armored truck. It was clear you were in the base by all the stiff government buildings and the cement walls surrounding them. But it wasn’t conducting as a military base anymore, at least not officially. Sure there were men in uniform wandering around but what really surprised you was the amount of kids running around, playing. It had you stopped in your tracks, watching with a little smile.

The cherry pie filling had been your treat for the day, but seeing all these kids gave you hope and that definitely trumped the sweet treat.

“Haven’t seen kids in a while?” Soap asked, passing you your backpack. You shook your head, trying to make the tears disappear that you hadn’t realized had formed. “Not any that were alive.” You admitted, pushing back the less than pleasant memories that had formed in your mind. Your apartment building was home to families, of course you stumbled across awful sights and had to take care of things you would have preferred not to.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your bed and then off to the showers.” Soap smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder and your eyes went wide. That was a word you hadn’t thought about for a long time and you found yourself tearing up again. “Did you say showers?”

Once you’re isolated for an extended period of time, it’s hard to adjust to be around people again. Ghost knew this, so his eyes were plastered on you as you walked through the base. You looked better now, less like a cornered animal and that put him a little at ease but he was still weary.

“I don’t think she’s anything to worry about.” Soap said, unloading the canned food they had found on their trip. “I have a bad feeling, Johnny.” Ghost said in return, ripping his gaze from you to help. Soap shook his head with a laugh before turning to him. “What are you really worried about? Think she’s hiding something?” He asked him and Ghost shrugged for a moment. “Could be, just find it hard to believe that someone like that can survive so long without help. We’ve lost plenty of good people to less in the last months. What if she was just separated from her group?” He unloaded, letting his feelings towards this situation out. “We’ve brought back a lot of people under the same circumstances and you haven’t acted this way. Besides, you know as well as I do that people will do anything to survive, even if it seems unlikely. Look at differently, she’s strong. She has to be to have survived so long alone, she might even be an asset.” Ghost knew he was right, he knew he was just being paranoid. He couldn’t ignore that feeling in his chest when he looked at you though.

“How have you been adjusting?” Captain Price asked you, sitting at what you assumed was his office even before the world went to Hell. You fiddled with the fabric of your shirt as you thought of an answer. It didn’t help that Ghost was seated on the couch in the room, watching you think of something to say. He didn’t like you and that was clear, not that you were the biggest fan of him either. Adjusting hadn’t been easy but you didn’t want them to think you couldn’t handle it. You didn’t want to be turned away.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” You said softly, avoiding Price’s eyes. “If it’s the cots, they take getting used to. The barracks weren’t made for civilians.” Price said with a sympathetic smile. You shook your head, raising a hand to stop him. “It’s not that- it’s-“ “It’s being around so many people. It’s too noisy, right?” Ghost asked and your head whipped around to him. How did he know?

“You get used to being alone so long, being around so many people can be overwhelming.” You admitted and you felt absolutely pathetic. A solid roof over your head, people that want to look after each other surrounding you and you couldn’t get a night’s sleep? You hated your body and mind for being so ungrateful.

He knew the feeling well, better than most. He struggled with this when they brought the first batch of survivors on base. They were strangers to him, sleeping a few feet away from him and they were loud. They weren’t really loud, he knew that. But you never quite realize how loud people are in general until it’s all taken away, it takes getting used to and he felt somewhat… sympathetic towards you. Being in the military equips you with coping mechanisms for things like this, it was harder for the average person.

“You’re not the first one to experience this. Which should be comforting, you’re adjusting normally.” Price told you and you feigned a smile. “If you need anything let me know.” Price added on and dismissed you. You didn’t feel comforted really, but you knew you needed to fight through it. It was a safe space and you hadn’t met anyone yet that made you uncomfortable, Ghost aside. You could do it, you had been through worse than a sleepless night.

You had been dreading the night and doing anything possible to avoid thinking about it. Oddly enough, there was plenty to do. You helped organize some of the canned food, looked into the farming system they had set up and helped cook dinner. It was a community and helping out made you feel better.

“There you are! Was beginning to think you were never going to show up.” Christine smiled as you entered the barracks. She had been kind to you from the moment you walked onto base, though it was clear she had been well socialized already. She never seemed to have an awkward moment with anyone and well, you were filled with them. It was nice to know she was worried about you though, it was dark outside and you had to sleep at some point.

“Yeah, was just doing a bunch. What’s up?” You asked, slowly walking together towards your cot. “One of the Lieutenant’s asked me to pass this along to you. You know, Ghost, the one with the skull mask.” She smiled, showing you the items in question. Earbuds and a historical fiction novel. “Did he say anything?” You asked, accepting the items with hesitation. He hadn’t said one kind thing to you since you got there, whatever this was about it couldn’t mean anything good. “Nope, just asked me to pass it along.” She said and you nodded in understanding, despite not understanding anything at all.

“Can I ask you something.” You said, mouth speaking before you even realized. “Of course.” She beamed, brushing her long blond hair behind her ear. She seemed eager at the chance of getting to know you more. “What’s his deal? Ghost’s. Like I’ve only seen him in the mask.” You asked, watching her smile pull even wider. “And that’s the only way you will see him. It never comes off. He’s a good guy though, I think. The most he’s said to me was asking me to give you that. He takes good care of everyone though. Just not with a lot of words. The kids think he’s a superhero.” You found yourself smiling at the way she talked about him and you could totally see the kids seeing him as a superhero.

The mask thing didn’t become anymore clear to you and well, you definitely weren’t going to ask him about it. You simply took his token of kindness and kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t unusual for some of the guys doing security checks to wander through the barracks to make sure nothing was wrong. Ghost was lucky enough to be the one to have to do it this time, much to his own dismay. However duties were duties and while he’d definitely complain about it, he’d do it. He was curious to see if you were awake anyways.

With his gun tucked into his arms, he stepped lightly into the barracks. Wandering in between all the beds, he made sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Head on a swivel as he double checked perimeter until he reached your bed. The book he had leant you was nothing special, some boring historical novel he had lying around. Each time he had tried to read it, it lulled it right to sleep so he thought it might have the same effect on you. As for the earbuds, they worked better some days more than others. He didn’t know why he cared about if you slept well, he just knew he did.

By the looks of things it worked, the book lay open on your chest and the earbuds were tucked snugly into your ears. You were out cold and looked peaceful. From the moment you had been here, he had his eye on you and it always looked like you were going to run. This was the first time you had seemed okay, normal even.

Your chest rose and fell softly, your lips slightly pursed together as you slept deeply. Ghost sighed while looking at you, reaching out to take the book off your chest and folding a corner of the page you were on to keep your place for you. He then placed it next to your cot, taking another moment to look at your face. He was starting to understand it, the feeling he always had in his chest when he looked at you. This would have happened in the normal world too, had he have seen you. You were the prettiest thing he had ever seen and while pretty things didn’t normally make him weak, times were different and so was he.

They hadn’t been wrong about the time it took to adjust, it wasn’t long until you were fully on your feet and used to life at the base. One thing was sure though, you were itching to see how things truly were on the outside. Between the apartment building and the base, you had lived a sheltered life compared to most. You liked being able to fend for yourself and that was a quality you felt slowly disappearing. If something happened you had to know how to protect yourself again, how to exist in this world.

“Hey Y/N!” A small voice called as you walked across the base. You knew exactly who it was and it took no 2 seconds for small hands to tug at the edge of your shirt. You scooped the boy up in your arms, tickling him as you did and enjoyed the laughter that came out of it. “Jackson does your mom know you’re running around like a wild child?” You asked, still walking but now with the child on your hip. Christine’s son was an absolute ray of sunshine and you would do anything if it meant keeping that joy safe.

“Ghost is going to get supplies. I wanted to go with them but they told me I wasn’t allowed until I’m older.” He rambled, ignoring your question meaning his mother didn’t know. You were just glad Ghost and Soap had enough common sense to tell him he couldn’t come along. “Is that so, well how about I go talk to them about it?” You said, placing the boy back on the ground and looking towards the car that was being loaded up. “Yes! I want to go.” He pouted up at you and you ruffled his hair. “And I’ll let them know.” You promised, pink swearing with the child before making your way over.

“That little con artist convince you to talk us into taking him with us?” Soap asked, both of the men having seen the interaction between you and the child. “You have to admit for a six year old he can be quite persuasive.” You fired in return, smiling as you looked at Ghost. He wasn’t rude to you anymore and you could appreciate that. His presence around you felt overwhelming like he was always there, watching. The least he could do was be nice about it. “But no, I was going to ask if I can go with you guys.” Ghost’s expression, from what you could tell, drained from any amusement.

“No way.” He said bluntly, not even wanting to think about having you out there. He hated having to bring others along, civilians, but the thought of bringing you along was worse. He couldn’t focus with you around, he wouldn’t be able to be the best he could be out there.

“Jesus LT, lighten up. We’ve gone to that area a million times. Y/N’s good for it.” Soap said, not understanding the blunt response. “We can make this a civilian run, they need to know how to do this stuff too. Just in case.” He added on, hands gripping the shoulder straps of his vest. “I’d rather strip naked and dance in front of those zombies with no fence in between us, than do a civilian run.” Ghost responded, the remark making you bite back a laugh and making Soap pull a face. “I’d pay good money to see that.” You joked, watching Ghost’s eyes go back to looking at you. He was smiling, you could tell by the way wrinkles formed by his eyes but you wouldn’t let him know that you knew.

“I’d burn my eyes if I saw that.” Soap cringed before shaking his head. “Y/N go get a pack. I’ll get someone else to come along too.” He said shortly after, ignoring the way Ghost was bawling his fists.

“You really have a stick up your arse when it comes to her.” Soap turned to him, confused look on his face. “If someone else would ask you’d be annoyed but not care.” “She’s not someone else.” Ghost mumbled, needing to vent his feelings but not knowing how to do it. “Got a crush there LT?” The words already just sounded stupid. He was a full grown man at the end of the world, saying he had a crush was ridiculous. “Shut up.”

The car ride was painfully silent, an awkward air filling the car. Between you, Soap, Ghost and the man you knew who worked in the kitchen who’s name was Jack, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking between the 2 military men in the front seat. Ghost’s gloved hand gripping the steering wheel as you drove through back roads. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach when you looked at him, confusion combined with frustration and butterflies. Fear was also in the mix, not sure of what to expect now that you were on the outside.

“Where are we going?” You asked, trying to cut the tension. You watched as zombies took notice of the car driving by, slowly changing their direction to the noise not knowing they wouldn’t be able to keep up. “Small string of shops. We haven’t cleared them out yet but we haven’t been there in a while, so if we haven’t someone else might have.” Soap explained, glancing back to you and you nodded. “Remember, we’re looking for preserved food.  Cans, bags, things that can’t really go bad.” Ghost added on, icy blue eyes locking with yours through the mirror. He tore his gaze away first before putting his eyes back to the road.

“We’re splitting up and meeting back here in max 2 hours. Stick to your partner. I-“ Soap was cut off, as you all stood in front of the now parked car. “I’ll go with Y/N. You go with Jack.” Ghost announced, pointing the other two men to each other. It seemed Soap could sense your dread, shooting you a sympathetic look. “Right, 2 hours.” He confirmed with everyone, making sure everyone understood.

You felt uneasy, not because you were finally out of the base but because of the fact he chose to be with you. Did he really still not trust you after all this time, not after the small things he had done for you? Or the way you adjusted to everyone and tried to help out where you could. Why couldn’t he see how hard you were trying?

“I’m surprised.” You said, looking everywhere but at him as you prepared to enter the first store. “Surprised at what?” He grumbled, before carefully opening the door. It was eerily quiet out and extra caution wasn’t a bad thing. “You picked me to partner up with. Especially considering how badly you didn’t want me coming along.” You explained, following behind him. “It’s not that important.” He said and you sighed, ignoring the remark and wandering through the shop. It didn’t seem to have much else other than baby supplies. Picking up some bottles and other things some of the moms back at the base might need. It wasn’t on the list but it was important.

“Planning on getting pregnant some time soon, those weren’t on the list.” Ghost hovered over you and you looked at him with a harsh expression. “No and I know these weren’t on the list. But there are plenty of moms with young babies at the base. Stuff like this is good.” You said and watched him roll his eyes for a moment before continuing to look. He wasn’t annoyed at you, no, he was annoyed at himself for not thinking about that, not to mention there were a few pregnant women around too. Maybe it was good that you came along.

“I can’t believe you still don’t trust me.” You said, voice cracking for a second despite how strong you were trying to be. It was bothering you, you wanted him to like you, to trust you.

“This has nothing to do with trust.” He said in return, surprised at your outburst. “Bullshit.” You rumbled back and picked up your bag to keep going. There were plenty more stores to go through and you were so frustrated, you didn’t want to be around him anymore.

The silence was even more uncomfortable now, so much so it even bothered him. He just didn’t know what to say, he didn’t mean for things to this way. Ghost was so in his feelings about the whole thing, he didn’t notice you had wandered off which was rare because if anything he always paid too much attention. “Y/N?” He asked, not wanting to raise his voice too much. Maybe you went into the next store, he thought to himself as he wandered around with a wave of panic through his body. “Y/N?” He said, a little louder this time as he scanned the store quickly. The moan of a zombie however made him whip his head around. This store was overrun and surely you wouldn’t be stupid enough to run in here. At least that’s what he thought, until he saw your backpack on the ground.

He already saw why you did what you did, the back wall was filled with canned goods and you thought you were doing a good thing. But where were you? He couldn’t see you anywhere at first glance, until he saw you on top of one of the shelving units waving at him to not come closer. They hadn’t seen him yet or heard him.

You were absolutely panicking, your heart pounding in your ears and you were looking at Ghost with nothing but pure fear. Of all situations you could have ruined, you really mucked this one up and now he was going to have to save you, which you hated even more.

Ghost gestured for you to carefully grab your knife from your belt and you listened, trying not to move too much or make too much noise. He urged you to slowly come off the shelf, but you felt stuck. They would definitely see you and they were no 2 feet away from you. Just as you were gathering the courage, lifting your legs off the shelf, a zombie crossed right next to you and your heart nearly stopped. Covering your mouth, you couldn’t let it hear you breathe. When it wandered further you looked back to Ghost, who gestured for you to hurry up, his other hand gripping his gun. Surely he wouldn’t let you die like this? Right?

Gathering all of your courage, you pushed off the shelf and listened how the metal sang under the pressure. It was like the whole room came to life, roars and hisses chasing after you as you made a run for the door. You avoided the arms coming towards you, the smell of rotting flesh drawing nearer as you held back a scream. The last thing you needed was to draw more of them to you from other areas. God you felt like you needed to throw up and the second you were out of this situation you would.

The door was in your grasp and you were so close, until you realized you forgot your backpack. Now, the smart thing to do would have been to leave it behind. Well you were dumb enough to get into this situation and you were dumb enough to go back.

You looked at Ghost before turning around, narrowly avoiding the grasp of a zombie. “What the hell are you doing?” He almost yelled, no longer staying quiet before diving into the store after you. He fired shots, taking down the one closest to you as you grabbed the backpack. Ghost reached for the back of your shirt, pulling you harshly as he used the hand holding his gun to bash another zombie that was charging you both.

With the backpack in your hands, you both ran for the door and slammed it shut the second you got outside. The door shook on it’s hinges as Ghost held it shut, urging you to find something to keep it shut. You found a thick chain on the ground, wrapping it around the door handles. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would hold for now.

“Are you guys alright, we heard shots?!” Soap called, running to you both and ready for a fight. You were about to respond when Ghost grabbed your arm and made you look at him. “Are you suicidal? Or just that fucking stupid?!” He yelled in your face, the grip on your arm strong enough to leave a bruise. You were in shock, not at the zombies or the near death experience, but the way he yelled at you… the way there was nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. “Your stupid fucking decisions are going to get you and other people killed. Going back for your backpack?!” He continued, Soap putting his hand on his shoulder to stop him only to have it get shaken off.

“I-I-I couldn’t leave it behind. People need that stuff.” You said softly and Ghost shook his head, damn near laughing at you. “Everyone get in the fucking car, we’re going back. Don’t want to deal with this shit today.” Ghost commanded, snatching the backpack out of your hands and pushing you lightly towards the car.

His blood was boiling, how could you do something so stupid? Were you really the type to act on your emotions like that? Wandering off because you were annoyed, you could have gotten killed and he would have felt even more guilty than he already did.

“Hey, cool down.” Soap grabbed his shoulder again, watching as you got in the car. “You like her but acting like this? One sure fire way to terrify her.” He added on and Ghost just shook his head. “Can’t believe she’d be that stupid.” He mumbled and his friend simply shook his head. “Can’t believe you think everyone’s a soldier.” Ghost shook his head at his friend’s words, feeling a lot of emotions. “Let’s just go back.”

You sat on your bed, aimlessly staring out in front of you. If things weren’t awful between you two, they definitely were now and it was making your stomach hurt. The overwhelming feeling of anxiety sat on your chest like a brick and you felt restless, your hands playing with your blankets as you thought about what to do. The matter of the fact was: you fucked up earlier and you had to face it. Maybe Ghost would be understanding, maybe he’d appreciate the apology.

It felt odd being around the soldiers rooms, like you were in restricted territory. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but it seemed to general rule that no one really went back there. Another rule you were breaking.

You reached his door, knocking with a gentle hand only to receive no response. Repeating the action, you knocked again and gently tried the door handle. When you found it gave way, you did something even more stupid than what you had done earlier, you went into his room, only to instantly regret it. You intruded his space and well, now you did a whole lot more.

“I wanted to apolo-“ You were frozen, looking at his face. His scarred, handsome face without his mask. “Fucking leave.” He grumbled, hardly even making eye contact with you. He simply stood in the middle of his room, furrowed brows looking at you. Nothing but anger and hate filled his voice. “I’m so sorry.” You rambled, trying to leave again and tripping on your way out. You wanted to scream and cry, yell and hit yourself all at the same time. You felt like a bumbling idiot and now you even saw Ghost without his mask, something you weren’t even sure anyone else on base had seen.

Ghost was speechless as he stood in his room. He wasn’t insecure in his looks at all but he had made it a point to keep himself “faceless”. He wasn’t even that mad that you had just seen him like that but still angry with your recklessness. It wasn’t your job to put your life on the line for everyone else, yet you did it anyways without hesitation. Part of his anger was admiration, not that he understood it. Maybe he was too hard on you, maybe Soap was right. Just maybe, if he wasn’t so harsh on you, you wouldn’t try so hard to be accepted by everyone else.

“You want to go back to the apartment building?” Price looked at you with a confused expression as you played with your hands. “I know, I know it sounds stupid. Especially since I mucked things up so bad the last time.” You paused taking a deep breath to look at him. Price had become a true leader to everyone around and to you, you felt like you could talk to him. “I’ve been thinking about my place here within the group. I want to do more. I just know that building is loaded with supplies, I know my apartment still has a lot.” You finished and watching his face contort in contemplation. “If it’s about letting me back out there, I know I shattered the trust there.” You added on and Price shook his head, raising his head to stop you. “No, no it’s not that. Soap cleared that situation up to me.” Price said and you gave a half smile, Soap shouldn’t have to clear things up for you, it was your own fault.

“I don’t like it when there is conflict in the community. It’s small and fragile here, so everything needs to move smoothly. Like a well oiled machine.” Price was rambling, looking at your questioning expression as he did so. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ll let you go but only if you go with Ghost.” He truly was like a father, forcing his kids into the same room to get along. It wasn’t like you and Ghost were winning any teamwork awards before the incident, though you liked to believe he at least tolerated you then. You had absolutely frozen each other out since it all happened, he didn’t shoot one glance your way and you tried not to think too much about it. “I’m okay with that, as long as you ask him.” You said in response and watched him hold back a laugh.

His hands were gripping the steering wheel, it was noticeable even through his gloves. Ghost hadn’t said one word since you had gotten into the car together. There was no readable emotion in the air or his eyes, but there was a silent agreement to not say anything unless it needed to be said. Making amends in silence would be better than not making amends at all.

Stepping out in front of your building, you looked at him before bracing yourself to ask a question. “What’s the plan?” You asked, prepping yourself before going in. “It wasn’t crowded the last time we were here and got you, so I’m assuming it’ll be about the same.” He paused, finally looking at you and his expression wasn’t what you expected. Now that you had seen his face you could fill in the blanks. His expression was soft and almost gentle. “Top to bottom seems like the best way to go.” He added on and you nodded in agreement. This meant your apartment would be up quite quick. You weren’t sure if you were ready for it, but you weren’t going to let your emotions win today. Ghost would have to kill you to get rid of you and you weren’t sure he would be able to do that.

The first few apartments were near empty, a few stray cans and not one zombie in sight. It took no hour to clear the top floor and make your way down one, to your floor.

“You’re awfully quiet today.” Ghost remarked, checking a door before opening it. “Thought it would be better to not say anything, so I can’t say or do anything stupid again.” You explained as he checked the rest of the rooms briefly, leaving you to check a few of the cans left in the cabinet. “Smart.” He remarked and you nodded at him in agreement. “I’m sorry for how I behaved that day, my attitude was bad and it nearly got us both killed.” You said softly, trying to not make the situation anymore awkward than it needed to be. “I’m even more sorry for invading your personal space, Ghost.” You finished your apology, your eyes meeting as he watched you pack your bag.

“Any good cans in the mix?” He asked, making the choice to not embarrass you further as he could see it written over your face. “Canned ravioli. Seems we’ll be eating like kings.” You smiled in return, appreciating his courtesy.

Ghost watched you wander through the hall, closing his eyes for a moment to imagine this scene without all of the decay. This used to be your home, he couldn’t help but think about this scenario in a different time. Like coming home from work after a long day with groceries in hand, even exhausted you probably looked pretty. Hell, you looked pretty now.

You paused in front of the next door and took a deep breath, Ghost standing next to you. “Know the people who lived here?” He asked and you snorted slightly. “You could say that. This is my apartment.” You said, watching his eyes widen. You kicked the welcome mat to the side, revealing your spare house key and unlocked your door. “Welcome to my humble abode, Ghost.” You said, even kicking your shoes off out of habit as you entered. The action was endearing, especially watching you drop your bags to enter like you owned the place which in all reality you did.

“Call me Simon.” He told you, redirecting your attention to him fully. “Simon?” You asked, not anticipating his calm tone. He closed your front door behind him, carefully dropping his bags too and decided to take this moment for a break. “Yeah, you’ve seen my face after all. Maybe you should know my name.” He told you and you shook your head with a smile. “Thought we silently agreed that we were going to let that go.” You joked and he laughed, a real laugh. The type that comes from your stomach and bubbles up. “That’s what you thought. I’ll hold it over your head for a while.” Simon looked your way through the mask.

“I’m going to grab some of my clothes to take back with us.” You told him and he nodded. “Not a fan of the cargos we supplied?” He asked, watching you disappear into what he assumed was your bedroom. “I know I’m not in a position to complain but, No.” Your response made him smile.

While you were in the back, he wandered around your living room and taking it all in. There were pictures of you and your friends and family, making him once again picture what your life was like. For a moment, he even tried puzzling himself into it. Would he have met you at a super market? Or out for a run in the morning? Would he have ever made it back to your apartment if it wasn’t for the given circumstances? He shook his head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. He had gone from channeling all of his emotions into anger, to now thinking about what life with you could be like.

“Simon, you okay?” You asked, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. His back was facing you and it seemed like he was in deep thought. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He said and moved away from the pictures to sit on your couch. “You look really pretty in those pictures.” He remarked, watching your face get flushed at the sudden compliment. “Thank you?” You said, not meaning for it to sound like a question but you couldn’t help it. Joining him on your couch, you instinctively tucked your knees to your chin and looked at him. It was comical, seeing this large military man sitting on your couch. Never in a million years did you think this was something you would witness.

“You’re staring at me.” He remarked and you laughed. “Nothing you haven’t done to me. When I first got to the base you watched me like a hawk.” You retorted and he nodded his head, getting comfortable and sinking into your couch cushions. He spread his legs, muscular thighs taking up more space on your small couch and definitely not going unnoticed by you. Knowing what he looked like under the mask made it impossible not to be attracted to him, that matched with his sudden kindness to you, you had to press your thighs together.

“I didn’t trust you and well, it’s not like we see beautiful women every day. It was refreshing.” He admitted, getting comfortable enough to reach up and pull off his mask. You had seen him already, this was okay. It didn’t matter anymore. You had to bite back a gasp at his sudden actions, just looking at him with wide eyes again. His hair was all messy from the mask, all tousled and you just wanted to grab it.

He looked at you, really looked at you. Showing you his whole face again, this time without an angry expression but a relaxed one. It was making you swallow thickly and look away, looking to your window instead of at him.

“Is that why you were so mean to me? Because you didn’t trust me or because you thought I beautiful?” You asked and you listened to him laugh again, shifting his weight closer to you. “A little bit of both. Why do you want my approval so bad?” You nodded at his question, still not looking at him and debating how to answer. “Curiosity.” You replied shortly. The tension that had disappeared earlier was back and now you could put a name to it, sexual tension.

“Look at me. It’s been a while since someone has seen my real face.” Simon’s gloved hand grabbed your chin, his weight shifting on the couch a bit more to get you to look at him. Your heart was racing in your chest, his face so close to yours and his large hand holding your chin. You looked at him, swallowing your fear and lifting your hand. He winced slightly, your soft fingers touching the lines on his face. “I thought you hated me.” You mumbled, tracing over one of his scars as his hand moved from your chin to leg. “I hear that a lot.” He admitted, squeezing your thigh gently before using his grip to pull you closer. You could nearly feel his breath against your face, getting closer to you before simply pulling you into his lap.

“So you don’t hate me then?” You asked, heart pounding at the position you were in as he looked up at you. Straddling his thighs, your hands settled on his shoulders and he shook his head. “I hate how stupid you can be, throwing away your life for others you hardly know when it isn’t even your job. But I don’t hate you.” He held your waist, his hands moving up slowly as you cupped his face. He cared and that’s why he was always angry with you. “I think you’re stubborn and annoying, but I definitely don’t hate you.”

Simon’s hands squeezed your sides, the motion making you rock over his thighs gently. You never know how touch starved you are until you’re touched again and Simon’s fingers were lighting fires over your body. He hadn’t even touched your skin yet.

“Simon-“ You shut your eyes, not being able to handle the way his eyes were watching you and taking in the way your body moved under his touch. “God you’re so pretty.” He said, more for himself than for you as he moved to hold your face. The rough fabric of his gloves made you wince, opening your eyes and grabbing his hands to take the gloves off. “I wanna feel your skin.” You mumbled, leaning forward as his bare hands found your waist again and slipped under your shirt. He massaged your skin, feeling something so soft for the first time in a long time making him close his eyes for a moment. Your forehead pressing into his before finally closing the gap between you two.

His lips were rough against yours, pressing his chest into yours as he tried pulling you even closer to him. His breath heavy as his tongue dipped into your mouth, using everything in him not to just flip you both over and take you. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not for anyone even before the world went to shit. He wasn’t going to ruin it now because he was horny, he could be patient.

You started to pull away, wanting his vest off, at least some of the layers separating you both. You fumbled with the closures and he watched with amusement before helping. He pulled it off easily, making you sigh with annoyance as he could have spared you a little bit of time. Simon smiled and cupped your face with his large hands. “Listen beautiful, I’m in no rush so you shouldn’t be either.” He said in a tone you hadn’t heard from him before. It was soft and reassuring and made you need him a whole lot more than before.

He kissed you again, one of the hands holding your cheek sliding down to grab your ass through your pants. He used this grip for leverage, flipping you onto your back on the couch and making you moan against him. Simon was straining against his cargo pants, cock painfully hard and he wanted you to feel it. You nearly bit his lip as you felt his hard on pressing into you, whimpering at the contact and throwing your head back into the couch cushions. He took the moment to kiss down the expanse of your neck and his hands to the chance to roam and squeeze every part of you. Simon wanted to memorize all of this.

“I know you said no rush but God Simon if you don’t touch me soon I’m going to explode.” You told him, sitting up slightly to pull your shirt off. “Needy, needy, needy.” He tutted, taking his own top off before connecting his lips to your collarbone. Marking you up wasn’t something that he needed to do, he would make sure everyone back at camp would know that you were his from this moment on so he simply focused on kissing your skin gently. Your hands moved over his bare arms and shoulders, loving the feeling of his skin under your fingers before tangling in his hair. You guided his kisses, moving them closer to the edge of your bra and needing more stimulation.

He took your bra off smoothly, tossing it to the other side of the room before letting his rough hands play with your breasts. Rolling your nipples between his thumb and listening to every little noise coming from you. God he was going insane. His lips latched onto on of your nipples, sucking and licking the nub as you pulled his hair. “Fuck I missed touch so much.” You moaned, eyes screwed shut as his fingers danced over your stomach and travelled lower and lower. “Being touched been on your mind a lot?” Simon asked, tongue flicking over your nipple while undoing the button of your pants. “Only when it came to you.” You admitted guiltily, looking him in the eyes at the confession for a response. His cock practically twitched at your words and he decided that his self control only extended so far.

“Fuck.” He grumbled, tugging your pants down harshly together with your underwear. “What happened to no rush?” You asked, looking at the practically mad man between your legs. His thumb brushed over your clit making you gasp before he leaned down, kissing the bundle of nerves. “Out the window because my pants are on the verge of ripping.” He stated and licked a stripe over your slit before settling on your clit. His muscular arms were wrapped around your thighs, fingertips sure to leave marks and pulling sounds from your lips you forgot you were capable of making. You tangled your fingers in his hair again, watching him eat you like a starved man as you tried not to scream. “Oh my god, Simon.” You moaned, thighs squeezing his head slightly as his tongue traced circles over you. “That feels so good.” You rambled, the stimulation being so much for having not been touched in so long.

His tongue lapped up every bit of you, humming at the taste and the sting of your nails scratching his scalp slightly. Your babbling was cute, moaning at rambling about how good he was doing. He couldn’t help but grind his hips into the couch, his briefs clinging to his hard on uncomfortably. You were bucking your hips against his tongue and he opened his eyes to watch your face for a moment before pulling away. If you were going to cum it was going to be around his cock because he couldn’t wait anymore. You were wet enough, you could take him.  

You sat up the moment he let you go, hands reaching for his belt and undoing the buttons and zipper. In the process, you looked at his tattoos and muscular build, thinking of all the way he could use it against you. You had a little taste of what he was like and now you couldn’t get enough. He helped you push his pants and briefs down, his cock practically letting out a sigh of relief at being let free.

Simon pushed you back into the couch getting back in  between your legs, placing one of them over his shoulder to get a better angle as he teased your entrance for a moment. “God forgive me if I’m rough but I can’t wait anymore.” He spoke, apologizing not necessarily to you but for how he knew he was about to fuck you into the couch cushions. His self control was gone and your heart was pounding with anticipation.

Wasting no time, he slipped himself into you fully. The stretch made you cry out and your hands looked for something to hold onto as you adjusted. His shallow slow thrusts doing a good job of stretching you out before leaning over you and pressing your knee into your chest. “I need more.” You whimpered, his face close to yours again. He kissed you roughly before slamming into you harder now, the angle making  tears spring into your eyes at how good it felt. You knew for sure you were going to find bruises on your hips later but it was worth it, it felt so good you could hardly contain yourself. Your pussy squeezed him tightly, holding onto him every time he fucked into you. “Christ-“ He choked out, nearly whimpering himself as he made sure to keep his pace up. Simon could tell he was going to cum soon already and he needed you there with him.

His sounds had you absolutely seeing stars, cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you like he was made for you. You watched his hair cling to his forehead slightly, the veins in his arms holding him up over you, the way his abs contorted with each thrust and the way his cock was stretching you out. “Simon-“ You moaned out, pulling his face close to yours for another kiss. “I’m gonna cum.” You moaned against his lips and he smiled. “Come on beautiful, give it to me.” He coaxed it out of you, his rough voice making your walls flutter around him. “Cum for me.” He added on, his pace getting faster and harder to chase his own high. He furrowed his brows in focus and that was enough for you.

You were about to scream, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks but Simon placed his hand over your mouth just in time. A silent reminder that despite how normal this all felt, you couldn’t be too loud. Simon’s weight collapsed on top you, wrapping both of your legs around his waist as you felt him cum inside of you. His hand was still over your mouth, your walls squeezing him and spasming as you came down from your high. You were both sweating, his chest slightly sticking to yours as you moved his hand from your mouth. His breathing was heavy and his face was buried in your neck, hips still gently thrusting into you to make sure not one of drop went to waste. Your whimpers were soft in his ear, overstimulation setting in with each move of his hips.

Simon looked at you, hands massaging your waist and hips alternating slowly as he looked at your pretty face. Your eyes were shut lightly, focusing on your breathing as you tried to pull yourself together. “I missed sex.” You said softly, disrupting the silence and making Simon laugh. “Haven’t had sex where someone sees my face in a long time.” He laughed and you cocked an eyebrow at him. “So the mask usually stays on?” You asked, genuine curiosity in your voice and he nodded. “Always.” He smirked and you slapped his arm lightly. “Might have to try that out sometime.” You remarked and you both sat up. “The mask really do it for you?” He asked teasingly, hand grabbing your chin and kissing you harshly again.

“That took a while!” Soap called out as you both exited the car. “Was worried I was going to have to bring out the body bags.” He added on and Ghost slammed one of the bags of supplies into his chest. “Make yourself useful Johnny.” He grumbled, shaking his head at his friend’s words. You smiled to yourself, unloading the rest of the supplies and handing them to other people helping out. “Think that was everything.” You told them after unloading the last bag and grabbing your own. “I’m going to my bunk.” You announced, walking away with a small smile on your face. Heavy footsteps rushed behind you and snatched your bag from your shoulder, surprising you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking at Ghost staring at you with your bags in hand. “What are you doing?” He said, tone stern causing Soap to watch the scene. “Grab the rest of your stuff and put it in my room.” Soap’s eyes went wide and Christine who happened to walk past, stopped for a moment. “Okay.” You said, nodding softy. He wasn’t a man of many words, so you weren’t going to ask questions. So you just walked away to grab the rest of your things.

Ghost walked the opposite direction, bringing your bags to his room and he could see questions and remarks brewing in his friend. “Best be quiet Johnny.” He said, silencing him before anything could even be uttered.

Weeks passed and the weather got warmer, Simon kept you close and made sure everyone around silently knew what was going on. He loved you and he wasn’t shy about it, though he wouldn’t utter the words out loud. Saying them made it more real and anything real in this world was taken from you in an instant. You were together but kept at a distance from each other, the fear of getting too real a silent agreement.

It was only those three words keeping the distance between you two, everyone could see it. Even through his mask, any time he looked at you too long his eyes went soft and Johnny was making jokes. Price felt chuffed about it all, like some sort of twisted match maker. Despite no one knowing just how it all started, it was clear.

“Where were you this morning?” He asked, watching you serve up food to the other inhabitants. His hands on your hips pulling your back flush to his chest. “Got an early start, decided to help with breakfast.” You hummed, feeling him pull his balaclava up slightly to kiss the side of your neck. You hummed in response, smacking his thigh to get him to stop as there were kids around. “Hmm fine.” He grumbled, pulling the mask back down and giving you a look. “What’s that look for?” You asked, undoing your apron and pulling him close again. He just held you, not answering and resting his head on top of yours. “Well?” You asked again, knowing his silence meant he was keeping something from you. “We’re going on a run today.” He said softly and you perked up. You hadn’t been out of the base in so long, it would be nice to get out.

“Good, I’ve been going a little stir crazy.” You said and lifted his mask quickly to kiss him, but he pulled away. “We, meaning me and Johnny.” He corrected and you let the mask snap back into place. The world outside was getting worse and worse by the week, if he could keep you in the base for as long as he could, he would. You were the last good thing he had.

“Oh come on, I haven’t been out of here in so long.” You pleaded and he shook his head. Despite the fact that he knew you were going to win this argument. “I want to keep it that way.” He held your face, making you look him in the eyes. “Listen if this was a normal relationship I wouldn’t be like this but nothing is normal anymore, I need you to stay here. I need something to come back to. I-“ He had to stop himself from saying it. You looked at him, knowing what he meant but having a hard time accepting it. “What about me? What if you don’t come back?” You said to him, not one joking tone in your voice. This wasn’t funny, you needed him too. He was quiet, just looking at you and holding you. “I’m going with you. Tell Johnny he can stay here and that I’m going with you.” You told him with a soft smile and he shook his head. “You’re a stubborn woman.” He remarked, voice gruff to hide the worry plaguing his mind. “That’s one of the reasons you like me.” You rebuked and he shook his head again, leaning down to kiss you. “I’ll go talk to Johnny.”

“Jackson asked me to look for some toys or something. Poor boy seems bored out of his mind.” You remarked during the drive, your hand playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as he drove. Being alone made this easier. “I just know that in a few years he’s going to cause trouble on the base.” Simon said and you nodded with a laugh. “Probably, the world ending doesn’t stifle being a difficult teenager.” You smiled and he squeezed your thigh from the drivers seat. “But yeah we can see if there’s something for him. Think all the kids could use some amusement.” This was what drew you in about him, he was secretly such a softie. “See I’m helpful to have around.” You retorted and he slapped your thigh softly. Being helpful wasn’t the issue.

“Be careful when we walk through here, some of the building structures are starting to crumble.” He coached as you walked behind him into a supermarket. “Okay.” You said and felt your stomach do a flip. You were suddenly nervous, having not been out of the base in so long, you were paranoid and scared.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, noticing your hesitation for a moment. His glove covered hand placed on your stomach, pulling you close to him. “Just nervous, suddenly. Think it’s because I haven’t been out in a while.” You clarified, looking him in his eyes to show him you were okay. “If you are hesitating, we’re turning around and going back.” You shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no it’s fine. It was just a feeling.” You reassured, patting his hand on your stomach. “Really, it’s fine.” You added on and his expression didn’t lighten up.  “If you get that feeling again, we’re going back.” You nodded at his words, patting his hand again.

The supermarket was quiet, so quiet it felt unnatural.  The gnawing feeling in your chest was back but this run was important, so you ignored it. Begging Simon to come along only to chicken out like this, you couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t let you live it down.

There was some rubble by the shelves as you looked for some cans or toys, books or magazines. Something to keep people fed or entertained. Simon was at the other side of the shop, having validated that there was nothing crawling around the shop. He was assigned to the pharmacy section, scanning through all the pill bottles to see what was around. It was slim pickings however, it seemed like every spot was becoming more and more barren. How was Simon supposed to even consider  that he could make a future for you two with everything ending up like this. He hated hope, he hated the hope that you gave him.

“Well? Anything?” You asked, watching him walk up next to you with a bleak expression. “Barely an aspirin in sight.” He said, watching you crawl over the ground and scouring the magazines on the floor. “You?” He asked, helping you up and you shrugged. “Think some of the kids are too young for these types of magazines.” You said and walked to the next aisle. He followed you, not being able to help himself but sigh. It was all empty.

“What you thinking about?” You asked him, taking note of his almost sad demeanor. “The world has gone to shit.” You looked at him with a laugh. “Yes good morning, where have you been the last few months?” You smiled and he shook his head, he wasn’t laughing.

The rubble in this aisle was worse than the rest, bits of sky shining through the crumbled ceiling. Simon was looking at the hole, thinking about how long it would be before it all came tumbling down. He followed the cracks in the ceiling, looking at the decay before noticing the supporting pillar that was hanging by a thread. One puff of air and it would come down, taking the ceiling with it. He followed the pillar down with his eyes, watching how you completely unknowingly leaned against it.

It all happened so fast. The pillar giving in behind you, Simon yelling and the sky suddenly becoming more visible as bricks and rubble started crumbling down. You weren’t even sure what was happening as Simon tackled you, his body covering yours to shield you from any of the falling debris. You weren’t sure if you were screaming, or if he was, or if the weight of the ceiling was crushing you or just his body. It all happened so fast, that when you opened your eyes, you weren’t sure if you were alive.

“Simon?” You asked, softly at first as the realization of what had happened sank in. Your whole body ached as you tried to move, feeling over his body for a breath, a heartbeat, any sign of life. “Simon?!” You were almost yelling now, not being able to breath yourself as you shook him as hard as you could. You were crying, a sinking feeling in your chest as you realized he wasn’t moving. “Simon please.” You said again, struggling with the mask on his face to pull it off and see if it would make a difference.

A deep groan emitted from is throat as you pulled the mask over is nose and tried rolling him onto his back. You could have screamed in relief, the tears now flowing quickly and intensely, pure panic filling your body as your shaky hands grabbed the fabric of his shirt. “Simon.” You were looking down at him and shaking him again. “That hurt.” He grumbled, eyes opening and looking up at you. Everything hurt, breathing hurt, his back hurt and seeing you so upset hurt. “Oh my god, Simon.” You cried even harder, burying your face into his chest and sobbing. “I thought you were dead.” You yelled, having to hold yourself back from hitting him. Despite the pain, he lifted his arms and pat your hair, feeling some relief himself from not leaving you behind like this.

After all this trouble, Simon wasn’t going to let a ceiling be the thing that took him out.

You stayed like that a moment, Simon petting your hair as you cried, you cursing him out for scaring you like that. He had seen a lot of scary things in his life, things that would have destroyed the average man ten fold, but the scariest thing he had ever experience was seeing you almost get killed. His body moved before he could even think when he realized what was happening, protective instincts taking over without a second thought. He would have thrown himself into a fire if it meant he could keep you alive.

You had finally calmed down, finally being able to look at his face again as you steadied your breathing. His hand cupped your cheek, wiping a few stray tears as he slowly sat up. It hurt like hell, but the two of you were only getting out of there one way. “I love you.” He said, not even thinking about it anymore. Truly it went without saying, it was simply the last step. You sobbed again, pressing your cheek into his hand as his words sank in. “I love you too, you idiot.” You told him before hugging him harshly.

A rustling sound caught Simon’s attention as you hugged him, body in too much pain to react quick enough to stop it all from happening entirely. The zombie came up from behind you , most likely having fell from the ceiling when it all caved in and charged at you. Simon used every ounce of strength he had, pushing you off of him and into the ground next to him, catching the zombie and taking the brunt of the hit.

Your scream filled the air as you searched around for any of your gear to stop it but it was too late, the monster biting into his neck as he pushed him off. He yelled, finally finding a moment to pull the knife from his thigh and driving it into the things skull before pushing it off of him.

There was a ringing in your ears, no other sound whatsoever. It was like you had gone deaf, all the feeling in your body simply buzzing as if it was static on the television. You couldn’t move, cry, speak of breathe. You could only look at him and the marks coating the skin of his neck. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been.

“Y/N, I need you to look at me.” He said with a shaking voice, trying to keep it steady but failing miserably. You heard him, but it didn’t register, simply still staring at the blood and blinking. “This isn’t real.” You whispered, repeating yourself as you felt your chest starting tighten up. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real.” You repeated it like a prayer, still not looking at Simon’s face. You stood up off the ground, pacing in circles and repeating the words only for him to grab your hand and pull you back down to him.

“Simon this isn’t real.” You were tearing up again as he forced you to look at him. The features of his face, his nose, lips and those stern eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen in him before. Fear. “Simon.” You said his name again, knowing in a few hours it would be something he was and not something he is anymore.

“Take this.” He said, not quite feeling anything anymore other than the fever that was starting to take over his body. He could hardly look at you, your pain being more difficult that anything he was feeling or had ever felt. He passed his hand gun to you, watching it slip from your fingers the moment it came in contact with your hand. “Simon I can-“ “No, listen to me, look at me.” He stopped you, knowing he didn’t have time for anything else. He needed to say it now because soon he wouldn’t be able to say anything at all. “You have to do this, you have to. You need to win this world because you’re strong. I wanted to be there with you when we did but the universe has funny ways of playing tricks on us and that’s not happening.” Your eyes pulled away from his, bottom lip quivering. “Look at me.” He grabbed your chin, holding you now to make sure you couldn’t do anything else. “I’ve never had the cards dealt in my favor, not in the real world and not in this one. Between my job, my upbringing and everything else in between, not once have I been happy, I just survived. You changed that. Never thought the end of the world would have been the place where I would find it, but it was.” His body felt hot, damn near steaming as he spoke. He had so much to say and so little time to say it.

“Now, there’s nothing we can do anymore. This is the way my cards were dealt.” He lied about his acceptance. He wasn’t okay with this, he wasn’t done yet. “I want to die as me.” He started, still holding your face and ignoring the tears covering his hand. He was looking at you and seeing you, beautiful you, in every way. “So I’m going to end it and you’re going to live.” He finished, the cry coming from your lips being enough to make the tears he had been holding back slip. “I can’t do this without you.” You uttered softly, your whole body shaking. He bit his lip, trying to fight every urge he had to hold you and say it would be okay. “You can and you will, you survived without me before. You can do it again.” He smiled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “Now. Grab your pack and start walking to the car. Don’t come back.” He wasn’t done yet, but the clock had run out.

No one ever mentions how heavy a dead body is, not when the topic arises. The dead weight of someone in your arms, with absolutely no help. No it’s not something that crosses someone’s mind when thinking about death.

The gunshot was still ringing in your ears as you dragged his body back to the car, or tried too. You couldn’t follow his orders, you never could. “Don’t come back.” His voice replayed over in your head as you wiped your tears and tried pulling him along again. You couldn’t leave him there. Simon wasn’t just yours, you couldn’t abandon him. You needed to bring him home. You were going to bring him home, you had to bring him home, you owed that to him. “Damn you.” You cried, smacking his still chest. “I wish I had never met you Simon Riley.” It wasn’t true, it was all anger and sadness, grief and fear.

You collapsed in the dirt, Simon in your arms as you looked up at the now night sky. You were so numb, you didn’t even hear the car pulling up or the heavy footsteps running in your direction. “Lt?  Y/N? What happened?” Soap’s voice called out at the sight, disbelief in his tone. Price and Soap stood over you, examining the situation as you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Help me bring him home.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. I would greatly appreciate it!!!

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut

[aquidragon]

Compulsory

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4902

Summary: There was no one you hated more than your ex-boyfriend Leon Kennedy, however, until he appears in your office after a long mission that changed everything.

Content Warning(s): smoking, reference to drinking, refrence to drugs, nsfw content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

(this is my magnum opus, I can die now)

---

You weren’t sure if there was anyone you hated more than you despised Leon Scott Kennedy. Even if you searched in the farthest corners of the universe, it would be hard for any living thing to somehow beat the burning, red-hot hatred that burned deep in your heart. 

You also hated that there was no one else in the infinite galaxy that you could love more than you loved Leon. His presence was like a drug, pulsing throughout your entire body, fueling you with aphrodisiac. Your nerves tingled at the thought of him, the hair on your neck stood on end in remembrance of his warm touch on your bare skin. The scent of sandalwood, refined whiskey, and  rust haunted your senses. 

You couldn’t get enough, you craved him again, you wanted to feel him rushing through your veins again. You needed him to feel alive. The burning desire to be dependent on him again weighed heavily in your mind, your body and your soul. It was why you loathed him, why you never wanted to see his alluring,  mysterious frozen ocean eyes again. 

Leon had shattered every effective piece of your heart when he walked away, when you demanded him to stay. It had been a cold, stormy night, your clothes were soaked to your bones as you screamed at him. Hot tears streaked down your cheeks, mixing with the freezing droplets that fell from the heavens. His eyes held the same empty, hollow walls that you had fought so hard to tear down. You had reached into the abyss of his mind, every secret, every memory, every emotion that he felt was once at your fingertips.

Before you could grab a hold, you were forced out by a violent tsunami. Sealing away what was once yours, for what you assumed to be forever. Leon Scott Kennedy became a mystery to you once again, a stranger whom you never knew. You thought you had known him once, as well as he knew you, but you were wrong.

You saw him sometimes, walking the narrow hallways of the DSO building, in between assignments. His blonde hair and square shoulders lingered in the corner of your vision like a ghost. Occasionally, you’d catch cyan in your sight, as you briefly met his eyes. For seconds, you remembered when you were his, before it all crashed down to Earth.  You’d tear your head away, cramming yourself in your work, unable to look at him any longer. You couldn’t bear the thought of him, a hot knife that tore through your chest, slicing you open; it made you vulnerable. Leon made you feel weak, powerless, similar to a deer caught in headlights. You hated him. You hated your own weakness. 

You even had asked to be reassigned to a new agent, within the Field Operations Support, which you had been granted. Not many people within the DSO knew about your complicated relationship history with Leon, most people assumed you were just best friends who had a falling out. Sometimes, you wished that they were correct. It would’ve saved you years of heartache if the nature of your relationship with your former lover remained platonic. If the intimacy you had shared with the blonde agent continued at a surface level, far above the trench that pulled you both down deeper. 

Maybe, you wouldn’t have drowned.

“Hey, did you hear about Kennedy's status?” The question that was directed at you felt muffled, your ears were underwater. You blinked, as reality set back in, and you turned to face your co-worker. Her perfect teeth peeked through her rouge-painted lips in a wide, ecstatic smile.

“Kennedy? He’s not in my detail anymore, remember?” You grumbled, finishing off the rest of your water bottle. “Why?” Ingrid Hunnigan was one of the few people who you told about your former relationship with Leon, who she often updated you about, much to your personal dismay.

“He successfully extracted Miss Graham, they’re landing back in the states in thirty.” She practically cheered, taking a celebratory sip from her hours-old  fast food soda. “The president is thrilled, I hope that means a pay increase.” Hunnigan sang her excitement, as Leon’s direct communication agent, his accomplishment reflected well onto her. 

“Congratulations, you deserve it.” You smiled at her, as you suddenly craved a cigarette.  

Her excitement began to ebb away as she rested a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know that talking about Leo-,” she hesitated, “-Kennedy isn’t easy for you.”

You chuckled, humorlessly, shaking your head. “I know this is a big deal for you, don’t sweat it. I’m fine.” You licked your lips, wishing you hadn’t finished your water. “You deserve a massive promotion, honestly.” You shut off your headset, stretching your arms over your head with a satisfied groan. “I’m going to have a smoke, I’ll be back.”

It was perfectly cool outside, you brought the paper stick to your lips, before beginning to light the white end of it. You had supposedly stopped smoking a year ago, alongside Leon, after creating a pact to quit. After you broke up, and an emotional breakdown at a bar, you gave into the compulsion. The hot, foul-smelling smoke fueled your lungs as you inhaled, and your built up frustrations rushed out with your exhale. “Shit,” you mumbled softly as you watched a familiar, private helicopter grace the horizon. You decided this warranted another puff from your cigarette, before stomping the butt into the pavement. 

Although you were no longer one of Leon’s agents, Operation Baby Eagle required almost every Field Operations agent to be on deck. You had attempted to call in sick, but your impending rent payment had other plans. While you didn’t have any direct impact on the mission, you were still required to visually confirm Leon Kennedy and Ashley Graham’s safe return from Spain. 

You were grateful you didn’t have to verbally confirm with them, at the very least. With a longingly sigh, you walk back inside the building, to get ready to head to the airstrip. You stand beside Ingrid, alongside the president and a large party of other people you didn’t know to welcome Ashley and her rescuer. You tapped your foot, impatient, and perhaps a little anxious as you watched the helicopter slowly lower to the ground. The wind whipped up from the spinning blades causes your hair to loosen from the hairstyle you chose to wear it in, as dust gets into your eyes. 

Within seconds, the aircraft’s blades slow to a stop, and the doors open. Leon exits first, his perfectly cut hair frames his angular face perfectly, his eyebrows remain in their permanent, serious position. You almost scoff at his overly stoic appearance, but you decided that that wouldn’t be very professional to do, feet away from the President of the United States. Ashley follows after her rescuer quickly, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but her face lights up in a smile at the sight of her parents. Without a moment of hesitation, she rushes into the waiting arms of her father, sobbing as they embrace her. 

You crack a smile at the sight, while Hunnigan is almost in tears. Your gaze shifts back to the blonde agent, who stands at attention a few feet away from you. Leon’s eyes are as distant as they always are, a solid cold blue, resembling ice. For a moment, you swore those same eyes met yours, but you weren’t sure. “Thank you, agent Kennedy, for bringing back my daughter safely. I’m forever indebted to you.” President Graham’s words are professional, while warm at the same time. 

“Anytime, Mr. President.” Leon responded, in a mostly friendly manner. You can tell that he was exhausted, based on the heavy ring of purple that underlined his eyes, as well as the subtle sag of his shoulders. A large, loud part of you wanted to rush over, wrap your arms around him to take care of him. Like you would have if you were here, a couple months ago.

Ashley freed herself from her mother’s embrace, looking up at Leon with watery eyes, a grateful smile gracing her youthfully pretty face. “Thank you, Leon.” She hugged him, her arms wrapping underneath his arms, as she buried her face deeply into his chest. 

“Take care, Ashley.” The blonde agent cracked a smile, returning her hug briefly. His head lifted to meet your eyes, and his smile fades. A pathetic, sad looking expression formed on his face, you smile anxiously, more akin to a grimace. 

“We can talk more about paperwork and such tomorrow. Tonight, all of you go home. Get some rest, you deserve it.” Graham orders, his stern facade returning. “Good work, thank you.” 

The crowd began to disperse, you yawn, as you walked back inside the building. You step into your office, as you begin to pack your stuff together, mentally noting a thanks to the president for gracing you with the ability to go home early. As you slid your bulky laptop into your work messenger bag, your door creaked open. “Hunnigan, I’m going home, we can go to Cowboy’s Tavern tomorrow. I’m fucking exhaust-” you look up, finally, and met the stormy blue eyes of Leon Scott Kennedy. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here, Kennedy?” You spat out his name like venom, as your heart faltered. You felt sick, as he shut the door behind him, his expression unreadable. “I’m pretty sure I remember that you made it clear you didn’t want to see me again. Ever.” You avoid looking at him, choosing to focus on the task at hand; gathering your stuff. “I thought we were in agreement there.” 

He tiredly mumbled your name, standing a foot away from you, on the opposite end of your desk. “I know what I said, just please, hear me out.” Leon’s voice is weak, raspy, as if he hadn’t had water in days. He pleaded your name, finally forcing you to look up at him, apprehension burning through your head. 

For once, in months, the frozen walls of his soul were gone. Leaving his blue eyes open, desperate, all of his feelings pouring out of his soul like a cascade. Your eyes widened, as your mouth fell open. In the brief time you spent with him, you had never seen him cry. Until that moment, in your office, standing before you with wet salty tears carved through the collected dirt on his face. His hands grabbed onto the oak surface of your desk tightly, you were sure that the wood would splinter underneath his touch.

“I know you don’t want to see me, or talk to me. I broke your heart and I deserve it.” Leon blurted, reaching out to grab one of your hands. Instinctively, you flinched, but you didn’t pull your hand away. You let him hold it, as he leaned over your desk. “I just needed to see you, I needed to know that you’re okay.” 

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “Leon, I,” you cleared your throat, “where is this coming from?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “We haven’t spoken in almost a year, now you come back into my office like this? What happened?” Your heart pounded wildly against your chest, like a caged bird, desperate to fly free. You felt nauseous, as your stomach churned and your thoughts spun violently. 

“I almost lost myself,” Leon admitted, vaguely. “They infected me, I couldn’t-” he paused, inhaling deeply.  “The only thing that kept me together was you, thinking about you.” The blonde exhaled through his nostrils, in a strange laugh. “I realized I couldn’t live without you, I thought I was protecting you, but I put everyone in danger instead.” 

You studied his expression, swallowing the ball that had wadded in your throat nervously. His handsome face morphed in multiple expressions; desperation, fear, grief, and pain. It looked like he was in agony, as his large, calloused hand tightened over your smaller one. “What are you talking about?” You stammered, you felt breathless. “Leon, please tell me.” 

“In Spain, Ashley and I were infected by Las Plagas, a parasite, similar to a virus.” He strained his words, struggling to get them out. “It allowed us to be controlled by an outside force, fuck, it felt like I was on fire. I thought I was going to die.” 

You opened your mouth, but you were at a loss of words. Instead, you allowed him to get closer, as you pressed your lips against his temple. You allowed your hatred towards him to be silenced, for a moment, to comfort him. To provide sanctuary to his tormented mind, to allow the part of you that still loved him to shine though. “You’re okay now, I promise.” You whispered, scooting to sit on your desk, gently petting his back. Your fingers trailing over the bumps of his spine, as his damp forehead pressed against yours.

As always, his skin radiated heat, as your bodies sat magnetized closer together. Your positives were drawn to his negatives, as your hearts fused together in an electrifying sense. You shut your eyes, as the same thrilling sparks that you craved for so long echoed underneath your flesh. His soft sobs evened out, as he pulled away from you, breathing heavily. Your name was rough, yet gentle on his tongue. His warm hands trailed over the curve of your waist, before coming up to cup your face. 

“I never meant to hurt you.” Leon’s voice was like broken glass, as his thumb traced the skin below your eyes. “I thought if you hated me, loathed me, you would be safer. I didn’t think I needed you.” He trailed his lips against your forehead, before planting a kiss between your eyes. “God, I was wrong, please, forgive me.” 

You straightened up on your desk, even from your position, sitting on the desk, he still towered over you. His body leaned over yours, as he held himself up, with both of his hands holding the end of the wooden oak. You felt him pull away, afraid that he had done something wrong, thinking that he had angered you more. For less than a heartbeat, you wanted to scream at him, for breaking you apart. However, the longing desire for the man that you loved so much to be yours again, even for a moment, washed away the hatred you had felt for him. 

Against your better judgment, you pressed your lips against his mouth. Leon’s pale rosy lips were chapped, and your nerves smoldered with him. Your lungs inhaled the scent of sweat and blood. As he returned your kiss, feverishly,  you could taste the metallic indication of blood in his saliva. One of his hands pressed against your cheek bone, as he desperately tried to get closer to you. Your own palms traced over the firm muscles underneath his thin, stretchy, shirt. 

He was almost overloading your senses, in the same way that he always did. You felt like you were going to collapse, as you steaded yourself with a hand by your hip. The other hand, found itself in his filthy ash-blonde hair, you didn’t care. You didn’t think you’d even care if he was covered head to toe in blood and rotten flesh. You missed him. You wanted him. You needed him. You wanted him to take over you, to melt into your body and permanently become a part of you.

As your lungs burned for oxygen, Leon’s mouth left yours, breathing heavily. “You’ve been smoking again.” He commented gruffly, trying to catch his own breath. 

You huffed, in a hint of a laugh. “Got a problem with that?” You gasped as his lips pressed against your neck, effectively knocking you backwards. The curve of your spine rested against the uncomfortable oak surface, but you didn’t notice. Your nerves sparked wildly from Leon’s touch, as his chest leaned against yours. 

“I thought I taught you better than that, sweetheart.” He murmured lowly against the shell of your ear. You hadn’t heard him call you that in what felt like decades, which made electricity shoot through your body, making you almost giggle with delight. 

“Well,” you breathed, “you haven’t exactly been able to keep me on track.” You wheezed as he rested his body weight on one of his arms to use his spare hand to drift over your curves. His pupils dilated, and his breath heavy against your face. 

“You don’t think I’ve kept my eye on you, do you?” The blonde asked, almost patronizing you. “I know what you’ve been up to. I know what bars you’ve gone to every weekend, I know you drink yourself into oblivion every night.” He groaned, his teeth softly scraped against the tender skin on your neck. “If only you knew that, I ached for you every single time I thought about you.” 

The thought of him watching you, from the shadows, when you weren’t paying attention made your brain spin with delight. You moaned as your fingers dug into his scalp, as he nipped at the flesh that joined your neck to your collarbone. “It almost hurt, y’know, that I couldn’t call you mine when I saw you with other people.” Leon pulled his face away from your body, looking down at you with blown, ocean eyes. 

“Be mine, again.”

You exhaled sharply, as his gaze burned into yours. As he waited for your permission to go ahead, to continue what you both had started. Without a second thought, you yanked his hair down so he’d kiss you, in a passionate clash of your lips. He grunted in surprise, but quickly recovered as he melted into your mouth. Leon Kennedy was yours again. 

As you kissed, your hands trailed down to his rough, black jeans, his erection strained against the thick fabric. You smirked against his lips as you fumbled with his leather belt buckle, before toying with the smooth button. He hissed once you freed his solid boner from his pants, as he squeezed your thighs in delight. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are, baby.” Leon panted, carnally, quickly tearing  your work blouse over your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He buried his nose between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply.

You whimpered as his wet tongue traced the outline of your skin, over your bra, as his hands squeezed your biceps. “Jesus, fuck Leon, take off my bra.” You grumbled, desperate. 

He gave you a wolfish grin, “your wish is my command.” Without another word, his teeth snagged the center of your bra, as his hands went undeath you to unclasp the back. Once the clasp was undone, he pulled the garment away from you with his teeth, before tossing it in an unknown direction in your tiny office.  Goosebumps puckered across your skin as your sensitive nipples were exposed to the cool air, you shivered in delight. 

Wordlessly, Leon climbed off of you to crouch at the  end of the desk, his head between your feet. You sat up, confused, ready to ask him if he was done; before he used a firm hand to lay you back down. “Take off your pants and panties. Now.” 

The commanding, desperate tone of his voice made your brain spin and heat pool between your legs. Without a single complaint, you yanked off your dress pants and panties. You made sure to aim the lacy undergarment at your partner’s head, who caught it with ease. Amused, he studied the fabric, before flinging it back to you. “Familiar.” Leon teased, before pulling your lower half over the edge of the desk. 

You yelped as papers scattered onto the floor, as he held onto your ankles. Like a starving man, he buried his head in between your thighs, the hair on his head tickling your skin as his breath rushed against your swollen clit. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you groaned, as your head tilted backwards. Leon littered biting kisses alongside the underside of your upper thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded, smug eyes, before pressing a firm kiss against your sensitive bud.

You hissed in pleasure, as your toes curled inside your shoes. Your entire body flinched at the sudden, yet familiar feeling, as sparks began to echo from your pelvis. “I missed this, I missed you.” Leon murmured against your cunt as he dragged his tongue up the slit. You squeaked, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. “You taste as good as I remembered, sweetness.” Two of his fingers slipped inside you as his lips remained on your clit. You arched your back, giving him easier access as he devoured you. Your hips jerked as your moans grew in pitch, your muscles clenched tighter with every flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers. 

You cursed him and his ability to absolutely consume pussy. You almost thought he was attempting to eat you alive. You fruitlessly tried to grab onto something, to steady yourself, but all you could manage was crumpled up paper (that you hoped weren’t important) and sliding your fingers across the smooth surface of your desk. “Fuck! Leon!” You moaned as he curled his fingers against the sweet spot inside you, with ease. 

Without intending to, the tightening sensation inside you suddenly snapped. You gasped, as white, blue and black sparked through your vision as you felt every nerve in your body explode. Like fireworks, scattered underneath your heated skin. Your jaw fell open as you grabbed ahold of Leon’s hair to steady yourself, making him hiss delightfully. He didn’t stop, instead, he continued to finger you as you rode out your orgasm. Monster. 

As your high began to fade away, Leon pulled away from your soaked pussy. Covered in your own juices and his salvia. You could see the cocktail of his actions across the lower half of his face, reflecting the orange light of the sunset outside your window. You panted heavily, your arm resting on your damp forehead as he looked down at you, affectionately. 

“Do you want to continue?” He asked, with a charming, gentle question. His lips pressing against your cheek, fingers filing through strands of your hair. You nodded, rapidly, as desire began to build back up throughout your body. 

“Please,”

Leon grinned at you, before standing back up to completely undo his belt and pants. With an effortless move, he stripped his combat pants away, alongside his boxers. His dick was delightfully curved and thick. You had to force your eyes away from staring. Gently, he pulled your hips against his pelvis, as he stood at the end of the desk. He pressed the head of his erection against your prepared hole, and looked down at you. 

You nodded encouragingly, with a smile, as he began to push himself inside you. You both gasped at the sensation, it felt familiar yet foreign at the same time. Leon let out a breathless moan, as he adjusted to the feeling of your heat around his dick. “Fuck,” he breathed out your name like a prayer, “you feel so good.” Without a second thought, he began to thrust inside you, as he began to rush through your veins. 

Your body thrilled at the sensation of Leon Kennedy rushing through your skin again, you felt him inside every fiber of your being. Like a drug, an aphrodisiac, you could never get enough of it. You moaned out his name, as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer to you. His forehead pressed against yours as your lips parted, looking into your lust hazed eyes. He groaned his desires to you, as his hands grabbed onto your hips tighter, nails digging into your plush flesh. 

You didn’t just need him, he needed you too. In a knotted twist of fate that ensured that you could never live without him. You knew it meant the same to him as well, of course, as he pressed wanton kisses to the side of your face, whispering the words you loved to hear against your ear. You had never truly hated him, you realized, much to your own personal disdain. You had always loved him, even when you had denied it. 

“I love you,” Leon moaned against your skin, in a raspy voice. “I always have, and I always will.” 

You almost laughed in joy, but instead, you simply responded as breathlessly as he did, “I love you too.” 

With a grunt, he came inside you, his hips pressed against yours, without an inch to spare between your bodies. With a wheezy chuckle, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he emptied himself deep within you. You pressed a kiss to his temple, soothingly stroking his hair as he came back down to Earth. 

You assured yourself for as long as you lived, you would always be the person who knew Leon Kennedy better than you knew yourself. He would know you better than anyone as well, forever bound by the allure that drew you closer together. You weren’t sure if you believed in soulmates, but you knew damn well that there was no one else in the universe who you loved more than him.

---

reblogs greatly encouraged and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennendy angst #re4r #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

[authoreetea]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing ; rafe cameron x reader

summary ; rafe lost you

warning ; angst!!:( sorta feminine y/n

note! taylor swift inspired again 😛 she is my inspiration. I hope u likieee

I smoothed the skirt of my dress, and straightened my back. It was yet another night forgotten by my boyfriend, Rafe.

It was supposed to be our fifth anniversary. I prepared his favorite meals and wore his favorite black dress, but I can't say I'm surprised. Each year I felt our love fading. Despite all my efforts trying, trying to build it up again.

He just can't commit to me. I wanted to be a bride, and he's out there making his own name. Ever since his father died and left him, he took over the business, which did nothing to help our deteriorating relationship.

I stood up from my chair, the food in front of me was cold along with the untouched silverware that sat and waited an hour and half with me. Another meal, another dress, another day disregarded by him.

Cleaning it all up, I put the food in the fridge and started putting the plates away. Until I heard the door. He walks in with a tired look on his face, and his formal shirt unbuttoned.

He sighs deeply when he sees me putting dishes away. He sits down by the bar, his hand running through his hair until his face, he was obviously exhausted and so was I.

Somehow, Rafe Cameroon still managed to look good while tired and beat up from work. His blue eyes were a window to the blissful memories we had when we were young and in love. The once vibrant connection between you two began to unravel, threads of affection fraying under the weight of unspoken fears.

I stood in front of him, tired of all the times I stepped down and lowered my standards for him. "You forgot." I simply said, monotonously as I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his hands and pulling it away from him.

He makes a frustrated face at the loss of his alcohol, just as he is confused. "Forgot what? I just need a drink, y/n." He said, his voice deep and weary.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "What day do think it is, asshole? Am I the only one to care for this damn relationship?"

He pulls his hand up to rub his temple. He lets out a groan, "It's just Wednesday... 16." Rafe's blue eyes widen as he realizes what is so significant in this day.

I let out a loud sigh, frustrated. I turned my back at him and walked out to our room. He groans again before following after me.

"Look baby, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to forget, I've just been so busy." He tries to resonate, with the same excuse all the time.

"Oh please, Rafe. The same damn excuse every single time, I'm so sick of it!" I said, incredibly upset at his antics.

"Please, baby. I'll make it up to you, whatever you want."

"You always say that! I want to be in a relationship where you don't need to make up for anything, Rafe! Don't you understand?" I cry out, tears starting to pool in my eyes.

"No, you don't understand! I am under so much pressure right now, y/n! And I need you to understand for now." He says, obviously irritated.

I look up at him, with my brows furrowed and my lips pouting.

"Really, for now? We've been playing around like this for a year, Rafe." I say, quieting down. I held onto myself as I felt dizzy, wanting to curl up into a ball and cry my feelings away, but this had to be done.

Rafe looks at me pointedly, about to say something but I beat him to it. "We... We've been through so much, my love. But it feels like we're slipping away, yet we're still at the same place we are five years into the relationship..." I took a deep breath, my voice wavering and tears softly pouring.

"Do you even see a future with me? Were you ever gonna propose to me, Rafe?" I ask softly, trying my best to cover the shakiness in my voice but failing.

"I'm sorry, y/n but you know that's not for me, especially right now with everything going on." He quietly says, His eyes were haunted and distant, actively avoiding mine.

What used to be lit with love and filled with joy, this room was bleak and the air was miserable.

I could feel my heart shattering. I smile at him sadly. "Three years, even before your father died, you've been saying that. Why can't you commit to me?" My voice was shaking, so were my hands. I was sounding desperate, my vision was blurred with tears and the lump in my throat kept forming into something bigger.

He takes a deep breath, walks towards me and cups my cheek, brushing the stray tears away with his thumb. "You know I'm not good at it, never have been." Rafe said, a painful admission of his own shortcomings. The realization hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I pull away from him, pushing him with my palm against his chest. "We can't keep drifting like this. I won't settle for uncertainty, Rafe."

"I'm sorry, y/n." He says, out of words to try to mend what is happening.

I let out a hollow chuckle, my eyes still pouring waterfalls. "I wouldn't marry me either, I guess. I just wanted you to see me again."

His eyes softened. "It's not like that, baby. I will marry you, just not now." He says, reaching for my hand.

I pull away. "If not now, Rafe, when? in another five years?" I say, desperate as I gasped for air.

"I mean, why not? If it means still ending up with you I would take the chance, y/n!" He says, his eyes wide and pleading.

I shake my head no, "Rafe, I can't. I cannot keep waiting for a commitment that may never come." I whispered, my heart breaking with every minute that passes.

He keeps muttering no. Rafe understands what this is leading to and it scares him. He looks at me begging, grabbing for my hand. "Y/n, please don't do this. I'll marry you right now, don't leave." He says, his eyes teary and his hair was messy.

I smile at him with tears in my eyes, "Not like this, Rafe. Maybe this is better for both of us." My voice was so quiet because If I was an pitch louder my heart couldn't handle it anymore.

Rafe's once lively blue eyes looked at me with regret, "I'm sorry, baby. please." he says, pleading and almost as desperate as I've been feeling.

I shake my head no, and for the last time, I turned and walked out.

And with that, the fragile fragments of our love slipped through our fingers, lost to the winds of uncertainty and the echoes of unfulfilled promises.

#obx #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron ansgt #you're losing me #midnights #outer banks x you #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks #fanfiction #imagine #jj maybank #the pogues #pope heyward x reader #jj maybank x reader #john b x reader #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #angst #jj x reader #rafe obx

[deceitfuldevout]

Mercy (Part 2)

Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader

Word Count: +3,576

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Murder, Mentions of past character death, Gore, Physical violence, Forced intrusion, Humiliation.

Author's note(s): Going to try and write more. Been a busy bee recently.

Tommy knew your parents would be looking for you. He needed to bring you somewhere no one would suspect. Not even his family. They'd given him space to mourn for Ruby. As they all did. Tommy had kept them oblivious to the underground war. This was between him and your clan. He owns a plot of land near the countryside. It's half an hour away from the city, far enough so that no one would follow.

He used to bring the children out here during the summer. What was once a special place in his heart, became a haunting reminder of what life could've been. He would've kept you in town had it not been for the constant eyes and ears. For now, it was best that you'd stay here until he's sorted everything out. It was decided, this would be your new home until further notice. But he doesn't want to make this comfortable in any way. You weren't a hostage--no, his property.

He can do whatever the fuck he pleases, because this version of Tommy, had no limitations. He clicks the trunk open, reaches in to grab your quivering form. He drags you out of the car, hauling your weak body over his shoulder. He effortlessly carries you to the hideout. It's a small shed, located right in the backyard of his summer home. Tommy kicks the door open. Almost ripping it from the hinges. As soon as you were inside he lets you fall with a 'thud'. Your head is throbbing. You couldn't see anything in the darkness. Only the silhouette of the man who had taken you.

As soon as you spot the gangster, the first thing you do is crawl back, holding both hands in front, and plead, "Please...please let me go, I-I promise I won't tell...j-just--please," your throat was sore from the hours of screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Your pleas were deaf to Tommy's ears. He stands there, stating back at your quivering form. There wasn't an ounce left in him that felt bad. To him, you were only collateral. An eye for an eye.

His presence is enough to intimidate anyone. You don't bother looking at him in the eyes, afraid of being trapped under his gaze. There are two rules you were taught about gangsters: The first rule was to never go near one, the second was to never look one in the eyes. Not unless you were looking for a fight.

He steps forward, enjoying the sight of you cowering in fear. His eyes are as cold as ice You sob, "P-please god..."

Tommy raises his brows, “God?” he scoffs, “You think it was him that led you here?” he shook his head, "No, it was me, I ordered them to take you, because I can," a long pause follows, "You were picked up from church, yeah? So tell me, what did you pray for?"

"T-to...to find a good man," your teeth chatter. His grin doesn't reach his eyes, "And that led you to me," he chuckles. Your parents kept you sheltered from the big-bad gangsters of the city. But little did you know you were raised by one. The irony of it all. Poor thing, you never imagined being taken, especially not by someone like himself.

He crouches down, "Tell me...what will you pray for now, hm? For someone to save you?" he taunts. His hand hovers to your collar, wrapping itself around your neck. He gives it a slight squeeze, "Tell me, what will you do if I were to bend you over right now?"

Tommy wants to break you. He wants to break your mind, your body, your soul. He wants to break the little faith you have left, and from that he'll build you to his liking. You would be his obedient pet. You answer, "Nothing..." blinking back tears. His thumb swipes a tear, "Good, you're a fast learner," he pats your head, brushing a few strands from your face.

He wants to make it clear, "I own your body now, I own you," he stands up, "From now on this will be your new home, you can forget about your old life," he then retrieves his watch, inspecting the time. He shuts it, shoving it into his coat pocket before leaving. Tommy ignores your cries, "Please...don't leave me here! Mr. Shelby! Please!"

Even in your condition, you still manage to limp. You try to reach for the door. Before you could make it, Tommy slams it shut. He locks it from the other side. Both your fists bang at the door, "I've done nothing wrong! Please! Don't leave me here!" falling against it as a deep sob escapes your throat. Tommy knows it was useless to yell. There would be no one from miles around.

Tommy and his men left for the city. When he spots a river on the roadside. He decides that now would be the best time to confront them. See, nothing with Tommy Shelby was a mere coincidence. He had chosen these men specifically, after finding out they'd stolen from his company. So, he makes it work in his favor. Two birds with one stone.

Tommy had been waiting for the right moment to finish off the traitors. First he orders them take the girl, then he'll take out those thieving bastards. Any witness statements would be useless with Tommy left as the only living suspect. All for a crime that may or may not have occurred. According to his story, Tommy had been in the office at the time of your disappearance. No one else could object to that. He knows that his family would be there to defend him.

He orders his men to park on the side of the road for a quick smoke break. He made sure to count how many of them had exited the vehicle. He doesn't light up his cigarette until he's sure all them were present. Only then does he lights up his cigarette. He distracts them with a tale. All of the men now rest on the side of the road. One of the men jokes about how they should share Tommy's new pet.

He doesn't take too kindly to that idea. It was at that moment when he returns to the car. When the men least expect it, he fires a round of stray bullets. He stares coldly as their lifeless bodies drop to the floor. Tommy dumps them into the river, returning to the city alone.

He made sure to avoid any suspicion by returning to his office. Acting as if nothing had happened. Word will spread, and the last thing he needs is his family breathing down his neck. He rummages through the office, finding any work to complete. As soon as he sits down, he can't help but smile. He thinks about how easy it was to bend you into submission. Had your parents really not prepare you for this?

Tommy remembers your first ever encounter. It was in your father's office just a few months ago. You unknowingly barged into the room with a tray in hand. Completely oblivious to what was happening. You were only focused on serving the men tea. A word he would use to describe you is obedient, submissive. Something he wouldn't mind having a taste of.

As soon as your father spots you, he halts everything. He cuts the meeting short to drag you out. No daughter of his would be caught in the same room as a gangster. He'll be damned if he lets a dirty peaky near her. Poor thing, you assumed it was your fault. Barging in while the men were at work, completely oblivious to the true nature of their meetup. He swore you were taunting him with that innocent look.

You still thought he, Tommy Shelby, was worth saving. You begged him not to do it, as if he were some fucking saint. That made it all the more worthwhile as he filled your cunt to the brim. He fucked you full of his filthy gangster seed. Until there was a small puddle of cum and crimson dripping from both holes. He had left a trail of bruises that littered your unblemished skin. He bit, teased, and bruised wherever he could reach. Who was there to stop him?

Tommy palms the growing tent in his pants. He relishes in the remembrance. He could still feel your nails digging into his skin. On his wrist, all over his chest and back. How you tried to fend him off. But in the end it was useless. He's a former veteran and you're just a spoiled heiress. A hand grazes on the small cut on his cheek you'd given him earlier, he'll make sure you pay for that dearly.

He's going to enjoy feeling of your tight cunt again. How you were squeezing his girth, almost as if it were on purpose. Your choked sobs for him to stop, as he darted his tongue out to taste those fresh tears. When your whimpers would change depending on how fast and hard he'd thrust his hips. How his nails dug into the flesh of those soft, supple hips, leaving small crescent cuts. And oh, how he loved to hear you scream.

Your whimpers were music to his ears. Like a melody he wanted to play over and over again. Fuck…he'll have to plan another trip to the countryside, and soon. You gave him a sense of power, immunity. Something that Tommy hadn't felt in long time. Not since losing his Ruby. He became a shell of the man he once was. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so hopeless. Lost.

But now? Your parents won't even think about touching him. This would be a secret kept between him and the other clan. His family doesn't have to know. If your parents decide to try anything, he'll make sure to send them more than just a napkin.

You couldn't sleep that night. Despite each hour feeling longer than the next. How could you after what happened? You felt as though your sanity were slipping away. Most of the night would be spent either attempting to break the door open or crying to yourself. Both of your fists went numb from the hours spent slamming them against wood.  

There were visible blisters that littered your hands. Small droplets of crimson from the open wounds. Faint scratch marks decorate the door. It didn't help being the dead of winter, only adding more pain to your bruising. You wince from the cold, dry air seeping into the open wounds. Still, it wasn't comparable to what he had done. 

A deep feeling of dread starts to sink in. Suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened. You were kidnapped, assaulted, paraded by one of the worst criminals in all Birmingham. The worst part was it only took him a few hours to break you. That man, that...gangster, had taken your virginity. How on earth were you going to tell your parents? Did anyone else know? If so, it would ruin any chance of ever finding a good husband. This wasn't just any gangster, he's the worst of them all. A Peaky Blinder.  

You began to tear up. Something like this would break their hearts. There were many stories passed around of young women being victims of bridal kidnapping. They would escape their abductors and return home. Only to be sent back by their own family. These poor women would have no other choice but to marry their abductors. Although both of your parents were traditional, surely, they wouldn't do the same thing...would they? A wave of dread starts to flood your nerves. Deep down, you were too afraid to find out.  

You try switching positions until you find one that was comfortable enough to lay in. Now splayed against the cold hard ground. It hurts too much to sit up. Your throat is sore from the hours of abuse. You were much too tired to yell, the dreaded thought of his return consumed all senses. You could only sit in silence, trying your best not to think of anything to stop crying. A part of you was certain that there were no tears left in you to spill. 

Suddenly, the door opens. You scurry as far away from the entrance as possible. As soon as he enters there's a powerful aura in the air. He reeked of danger. You refuse to look at him, not out of defiance but out of fear. For the first time in your life, you were genuinely terrified. Your eyes are focused on the floor as your body crumples into submission. Each step he takes his powerful, echoing throughout the shed. His feet were settled on the spot where you were staring. There was something in his hand. You couldn’t tell what it was until he placed it on the ground.  

It was a plate of sludge-like food. Something that was half thought of, with a cup of water on the side. Your mouth starts to water at the sight. It had been almost two days since you’ve eaten anything. Tommy wanted to make sure you were still alive. Otherwise, the deal would be off with your parents. You could only focus on the plate on the floor, tuning everything else out. All attention went to the dish. He says something but you don't quite catch what it was.  

Suddenly a hand grips your hair, pulling it into a tight hold. You whine from the pain, both hands shooting up to where his wrist was. As much as you tried to pry his fingers off, it was futile trying to remove the iron hold. He's a retired soldier, a decorated war veteran. You were only an heiress, sheltered from all worldly dangers. You look up at him with pleading eyes, now sheer with fresh tears, "P-please..." begging for him to stop. His grip tightens, "What did I say about speaking?" your pained expression doesn't falter him, not one bit.  

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, so let me refresh your memory,” he tugs until you're forced to look him in the eyes. He growls, “I own you, mind, body, soul, every part,” he reaches for your neck, giving it a squeeze. He dips his fingers in your mouth, gripping the inside to pry it open, "This is mine to use," he pulls you up by the arm with little effort, his other hand finds its way in between both legs. When your hands try to shoo it away the grip around your neck tightens. He reaches in between your legs, rubbing up and down the clothed slit, "This cunt...mine,"  

You shook your head vigorously, tearing up at his remark. He clicks his tongue, "Sh...sh... that's not gonna help you," both his hand hold the sides of your head. It felt like you were suffocating in his embrace. He looks you in the eyes, “The life you once had is gone now,” which only twists the knife deeper, “I own you, every part of you,” his hands glide from your neck down to your bare shoulders.  

Tommy gives them a light shove, just enough to send you to your knees. His hands retreat to his belt, unfastening the buckle before letting his pants slide down. He wants to start training as soon as possible, “I’m going to break you...bend you in my own image,” Tommy doesn’t waste any time releasing his manhood from its bindings.

He tugs it a few times, enjoying the petrified look on your face. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement. Tommy took joy in watching you break. He couldn’t help but smirk as soon as the tears began to spill. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you to face his leaking member.  

He taps the tip of his cock against your cheek, enjoying the way you try to retreat. He pulls back his coat, revealing a gun resting in its holster. A warning of what would happen should you fight him. You shut your eyes, imagining being anywhere else but here. You force your lips to part. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He starts bucking his hips back and forth. He hisses, trying to find the right angle, "M'gonna cum...gonna shoot a fat load down your throat...want you to feel it in your fucking stomach,’  

Tommy fastens his pace, he’s close. So, fucking close. Hearing your muffled cries was music to his ears. Then it came, Tommy presses his cock deep inside, holding your head in place as he quickens his thrusts. Sweat collects on his forehead despite the cold weather. When he retrieves his cock a small trickle of cum and spit escapes. You cough out his spunk still trapped in your throat. A small puddle forms on the ground, right between his feet. He had been enjoying this a bit too much, "You'll have to practice on that mouth of yours," he teases.  

But that wasn’t the end of it, no. Shortly after Tommy decided that another round was due. Then another, and another. He ignored every muffled cry that escapes your lips. He wanted to paint you with it. No, he wants to drown you in his seed until you're thanking him.

Five, five rounds of Tommy fucking your mouth. Each round ending in him cumming on a new place. He had emptied load after load, making sure to paint you with it. There was spunk all over your hair and face. It was repulsing, being covered in a stranger's finish. After a while he lets you rest. When you notice him retrieving his discarded coat, you sigh with relief. It was finally over. Your emotions get the best of you, crying not from the abuse, but that it was finally over.

Then Tommy does the unimaginable. He strides over to your plate. Jerking off his cock before finishing the sixth round on the food. He tucks himself in now satisfied with the work done, "Eat up," he says before leaving you alone in the cold darkness. You of all people should know by now, Tommy's cruelness had no limits.

While you were gone, your home had changed for the worse. During the past few days, what was once a warm-felt home became a mourning ground. Your mother had spent most of her free time was at the window seat, praying for your return. What was once a home filled with laughter and joy became a cold reminder that you were gone. Taken from her safe arms. A part of her regrets ever leaving your side. If only she weren't so busy entertaining others. Then maybe her sweet girl would still be here.

She sniffles, pressing a hand against the cold glass. She blames herself for not looking after you, her pride and joy. Ever since you were taken, she had barely slept or eaten. It began to worry the maids, who then informed your father. She could still her you calling for her. It had been carved into her mind, and killed her not being able to do a thing about it. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? More tears spill, flowing down her cheeks.

Your father couldn't stand the sight of his dear wife's tears. He could barely sleep knowing that he was the reason behind it. All because of his lineage. He had tried his best at hiding a double life. He never wanted to drag his girls into this. Your father tried his best to hide it, he really did. Your mother was the preacher's daughter, who unknowingly married a gangster. Naïve and innocent to the evils of this world until she met him.

He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "Don't worry my diamond," wiping away the fresh tears, "I promise you, I'll bring our girl back..." he leaves her for his 'office', where the men await for his orders. Unlike his wife, he isn't as forgiving. He had gouged out an eye from the man in charge of keeping an eye on you. But after receiving Tommy's message, he made sure to plant a bullet right in between the man's empty sockets.

If it's a war the Shelby brother wants, it's a war he'll have.

After washing the blood from his hands and face, he makes his way to the bedroom. His wife is still perched on the seat of the window frame, staring longingly outside. He accompanies her, now sat besides her. He's guilt ridden. She whispers something he doesn't quite catch, until another mumble escapes her lips, "My fault..." 

how? How on earth could someone as precious as his diamond do any wrong?

"I c-can't forgive myself for--"

"No, no my love, this isn't your fault..." He pulls her into his arms, rubbing small circles into her back. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, holding her closely. He'll tear this city apart if it meant finding you. This is a city plagued and ruled by gangsters. You of all people didn't deserve it and he has only himself to blame. Whatever that sick bastard had done he promise to do worse. Until he's begging to be put out of his misery.

But what the mobster doesn't know, is that Tommy Shelby yearns for sweet death.

#dark!tommy #dark!tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby x you

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, forced orgasm, cockwarming, somnophilia. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: I just want to keep giving you all new chapters daily, hahaha its so hard to not especially when I have a chapter ready to go ! The reader deserves a little treat too <3 Enjoy

Chapter 58: Misfortune

The doors to the Kings chambers shut heavily behind you, and you did not slow your pace as you stormed back to your shared chambers. You could feel Aemond following you slowly behind, not racing to catch up with you as he watched you storm ahead, anger rolling from you in waves.

He called your name gently to you, almost in exacerbation, but your pace did not falter as you kept on, your strides quick and long until you reached the chambers. Your own hands pushing the doors open, not waiting for the knight as you stormed into the room. 

The doors crashed loudly against the walls behind as you moved straight to the far wall, filling a goblet with wine before drinking it, pacing in front of the fire angrily as you desperately tried to school your anger. 

‘Dracarys.’  Lucerys’ voice whispered in your head.

You let out a shaken breath, listening to the chamber doors shut behind you as you stopped to stare into the fire, watching the flames. Your chest rose and fell and the anger that you felt boiled you from within. It did not stop climbing the longer you stood there, the anger building, and building, and building, until all that could be heard was the blood rushing in your ears.

“Dracarys.” Lucerys’ voice got louder, and you scrunched your eyes shut, hands tightly in fists as you held your breath. 

You listened to Aemond’s slow, steady steps as he came towards you. His presence coming up from beside.

“Zaldristos.”

You opened your eyes and were met with Aemond’s face. He looked down his nose at you, not cruelly, but expressionless as he watched you react to his brothers mocking. You supposed that he took great pleasure in seeing you like this, and the room began to heat around you the longer you thought of it. Your nails dug sharply into your palms as you all but sneered up at your husband. You blinked, opening your mouth to snap, and that’s when you saw him. 

Lucerys stood behind Aemond, watching you.

His eyes and mouth were bloody, and his robes hung heavily from his body, drenched head to toe from rain. His dark brown brows were drawn into a frown as he looked at you. He looked so angry. So rageful, and yet there was sorrow in his eyes. You gaped in horror as you looked at him.

A product of the man in front of you. 

A small cry left your lips as you watched him sneer. It had been a while since you had seen him like this. So small, so bloody, so haunted. 

So horrifying.

“Dracarys.”

“Enough!” You yelled into the space, watching as Lucerys disappeared with a blink of an eye.

Aemond looked to the space behind him, to where Lucerys had once been, and then looked back at you, head tilted. You did not take your eyes from where Luc had been standing, terrified that he would appear there once again, bloodied from Vhagar’s crushing jaws.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as a sob fell from your lips.

You couldn’t do this anymore. 

You couldn’t do this. 

You couldn’t.

Aemond stepped forward towards you, hand reaching out to touch you softly. You jerked away, wrapping your hands around yourself as you moved back towards the fire, tearing your eyes away from where Luc had been and away from the form of your husband. 

“The Gods must surely hate me.” You uttered to yourself, “Is it not enough that I am married to you?”

You looked down at your hand, fingers trailing up and down the scar of your palm.

Scars that would never leave. 

A brother that would never come back.

“You mustn’t-“

“Nothing that you say will make this better.” You interrupted, losing yourself to the storm building inside, “Nothing that you will do, will make this more bearable.” 

You turned to face him, looking in his eye as you watched his face. His hand dropped back to his side.

“You took him from me. You took him, and he is never coming back.”

“And you took Daeron.” He said quietly, “He is never coming back.”

You sniffed and turned away looking back at the fire. Behind you, Aemond moved to the side of the room, pouring himself a goblet of wine, and refilling yours. He took deliberate steps towards you until he stood in front of you, handing you your wine. 

You took it with no argument.

Aemond seated himself in his usual seat, and looked at the flames, sipping from his goblet in thought. You stayed standing doing the same, desperately trying to calm your anger and sorrow, lest it break free, and you bear the consequences of it at the hands of your husband. 

Again.

When your cup was half drained, Aemond finally spoke. 

“Don’t let him see that he is under your skin. It will only get worse if you do.” His voice was flat, though something else lingered beneath it, “I learnt that giving Aegon joy from your misfortune only feeds his cruelty.”

You let yourself look at your uncle. 

He sat still, looking into the flames, cup to his lips. 

If anyone knew of Aegon’s cruelty, it would be him. 

You grew beside them both and watched how Aegon had picked on Aemond his whole childhood, even serving to mock him now. Aegon and your brothers had never once held back in their teasing, and you of all people, would know this. 

Aemond knew how Aegon’s mind worked. 

You would do well to heed his warning. 

“And you expect me to sit there and take it? To take his mocking of Lucerys? The both of yours?”

“Yes. Like the dutiful little wife you are.” Aemond let his eye meet yours, “Just as I have had to, all my life.” 

“Easier said than done. I have nothing. I have lost everything.”

A pause.

“Mm. It gets easier with practise.”

You watched Aemond’s profile as he stared into the fire. Your eyes traced the sharp line of his nose, to the soft curve of his plump lips, all the way down to his sharp chin and cheeks. His hair looked so soft to the touch, you almost wanted to run your fingers through it. 

Or yank it.

“Why did you stop him?” You asked.

Aemond’s brow furrowed.

“Why did you stop him in the Dungeons?” 

Aemond stood and walked towards you, towering over your form as you clutched tightly onto the goblet in your hand.

He looked down at you, face uncharacteristically gentle.

It set you on edge more than his anger did.

“Because you are mine. And so long as I have breath in my lungs, no-one will touch you but me.”

His smile was so soft that it did not match the meaning of his words. It made your skin prickle as he held your gaze. A small hum erupted from his chest as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. You stood still as his hand lingered, his fingers gently caressing the back of your ear before he turned on his foot to make his way towards the bed.

Aemond began to strip himself of his outer robes. The dark heavy leather tunic fell loudly to the floor in a pile, the buckles clinking against each other, similar to the sound of a sword, making you anxious. Next was his undershirt, a thin white tunic which he pulled gracefully over his head.

You watched as the skin of his back was revealed to you. 

You knew that Aemond was lean, but you did not expect to see the outline of his muscles stretching across his back with each movement.

You had not witnessed him undress before.

The low candlelight caught on his hair which shone in the darkness, as he reached at the back of his head with gentle and skilled fingers to undo his small, simple braids. His hair loosened, and the locks that were held in braids all day were now wavy, and fell to the front of his face.

Aemond bent to pick up the leather tunic and placed it on a chair on the side of the room, putting the thin white undershirt on top of it in a messy pile. He did not once turn to meet your gaze as you watched him. 

And you, much to your disgust, found that you could not help but admire the way that he was built. No more was he the gangly little boy you remembered. Aemond was now a tall and muscular, who if anybody else, would entice you into his waiting arms to warm his bed willingly.

But he was not anyone else. 

You felt a familiar tingle in your core as you watched him from across the chambers. Heat speed into your cheeks and settled into your stomach to which you pushed down in anger, finally tearing your eyes from the man to look back at the fire. 

Do not look at him.

The flames danced and swayed around each other, the red and yellow kissing one another as they devoured the logs within. Fire was a beauty all in its own, but one that devoured all in its path. You heard rustling behind you and the sound of a goblet being placed upon a table. A deep sigh flitted across the space of the chambers and you fought the urge to turn around and gaze upon your uncle. 

“The hour is late.” Aemond called across the room to you.

You did not answer.

“Come to bed.”

A command. 

You were stuck in your place, daring not to move. But even as you stood, you could not force yourself to walk across the room willingly. You could not move as you felt fear trickle into your pores at the thought of crawling into bed beside him.

Would he hurt you again?

“Zaldristos.” He called, his patience from the day finally running thin, and that was all it took for you to turn and slowly move towards the bed.

Every inch of your body fought you as you walked towards the bed, tearing your eyes away from the fire. Aemond lay beneath the sheets, propped up by one elbow as he looked at you. His chest was bared, and you could not stop your eyes from flitting down the toned lines of his stomach. A small trail of silver hair working its way down to his-

You looked away to the ground as you got closer, heat rising into your cheeks. Aemond continued to watch you in amusement as you moved across the chambers until finally, you wear but a mere three steps from the bed. 

His hand pulled the sheet from your side back, slowly, an offering for you to crawl into the vipers nest. To lay beside him. To not fight it.

To be a good wife and lay beside your husband and bend to his will.

You gawked at his hand before looking back at him. Your eyes flitted from his face to his shoulder. 

There, nestled between his neck and shoulder was a jagged scar. The flesh was puckered and pink, skin pulled taut around the length of it. It looked thick and deep, and had a strange texture around it, as though it had been cauterised. 

Perhaps it had been. 

It looked a lot larger than you had thought it would have been, and you felt the smallest hint of pride swell inside of you.

There was the proof of your attack. 

The proof of your fire.

The skin looked sore, as though it would have been a difficult place to heal for him, especially with his love for the training yard. The scar was so close to where you had intended, that even the slightest movement of your hands, or his reaction being too slow, would have been fatal. You would have nicked the thick artery right at his neck, and Aemond would have bled out in a pool of his own blood, watched on in horror by his mother and knight.  

A shame you had missed. 

But mixed with this sense of pride, and disappointment of not doing greater harm, there was a quiet voice, lingering in the back of your head. A tiny, stinging pain that rose in your heart that you would not have noticed if it wasn’t for the turmoil that had began to build.

There, deep within you, was regret.

And right beside it sorrow for the damage and pain you had caused.

Was it your inner child that still held onto hope for a better future with him?

Or were you simply reminded that this was your uncle, sins or not, and that you had shared a youth together, and grown together, and had bonded together more fiercely than you had with your own siblings.

Aemond felt you observing where you had stabbed him and he let out a grunt, letting his arm slide beneath him as he laid down onto the pillow to look at you. You moved to crawl into the bed beside him, still in your dress, but his face stopped you in your tracks. 

“Undress.” Was all he said.

Your heart raced away in your chest as you turned away from him, reaching behind you to pull at the laces to loosen the gown and let it slip from your form. But the laces were too high, and each time you made to grasp the thread to unknot it, it would slip from your fingertips. 

You arms ached as you struggled with it until finally you felt the cool press of fingers at your back, goosebumps erupting around the skin as Aemond grasped the ties away from your feeble hands, pulling them with skilled practise away from your body. The dress sagged in your hold as you heard Aemond settle back into your shared bed. 

Letting a held breath pass from your lips, you let go of the gown at your front and let it drop to the floor, leaving you in your thin chemise beside the bed. As soon as the gown hit the floor you crawled into the bed beside him, racing to pull the sheets up to your shoulders before rolling onto your side, not sparing him a glance. 

Aemond huffed a small laugh and rolled away from you. 

You could feel the heat radiating from his body as you laid stiffly on your side.

Why had he not touched you? 

Was he waiting for you to let down your guard?

“Sleep well.” Came his voice from behind you, and you locked your hands tighter around the sheet.

But Aemond did not move once from his position, nor did he move closer to you, nor did a hand snake around your front to caress you. You laid beside him, as he blew out the candle on his side of the bed, and you uneasily did the same. A darkness eventually shrouded the room as the fire dwindled, and you listened to the steady, even breaths of Aemond as he fell asleep. 

Once you had realised that he was sleeping, you found that you could finally relax, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, your body finally giving in to the fatigue that had plagued you since your arrival.

You sunk into the clouded depths, your body so wound up that finally, it let go of everything around you. You did not dream, instead you floated in a state of nothing for some time. Sleep was the only place where you could escape the world around you, and not be present.

It was a peaceful and a reprieve from all.

A break from the horrors of your life.

But then you began to rise from those murky depths, a familiar tickle in your stomach growing with every passing moment. Your mind did not want to rise from its sleep, and so you were sitting in a limbo of half awareness. 

Aware that there was movement behind you, but no desire to break forth from your sleep to the present. But then the familiar tickle grew stronger, and you found yourself rising from your slumber, pleasure being plucked from your core with soft care. 

A sleepy moan escaped your lips as you wriggled, mind still not caught up to what was happening, brain foggy from the depths of your sleep. Fingers swirled gently around your bud, aided by the slick from your core, pulling pleasure from you steadily. 

Another breathy moan escaped you. 

Was this a dream?

You felt movement against your back, something hard rubbing against your cheeks in the bed, whilst hot breath fanned across your neck. A soft hum came from behind and you were suddenly snapped to the present.

Your eyes flicked open.

Aemond’s fingers softly rubbed your bud in circles, dipping down to your entrance to scoop up the slick your body made, as he dragged it back up to your pleasure centre, your core clenching around nothing. His touch was so soft and gentle, almost as though he was desperate to not wake you.

You body was hot and the coil inside of you was already wound tight from his ministrations. How long had he been touching you? Fear and disgust trickled down into you as you thrusted your hips backwards, desperate to escape his hand and their featherlike touch. Your ass ground against his hard, heavy member, which slipped between your thighs at the movement.

You froze.

His length brushed against your folds, sending a shooting heat up into your core.

The One-Eyed Prince continued his fingers swirling, his hips staying still as his cock was nestled between your thighs, pressed against your cunt, until they dipped back down to your entrance, a long thick finger pushing inside of you. A squeak escaped your lips and a blush rose on your cheeks. 

It shouldn’t feel good.

Why did it feel so good?

Aemond rubbed his finger inside of you, up against the soft spongey spot of your core. It happened so quickly that your release came from nowhere, blinding white hot pleasure coursed through you as you let out a breathless gasp, writhing in his grip. Your movements caused the tip of his cock to bump into his own hand between your folds.

His finger did not stop their movements, and instead you were met with a second, pushing into your heat, a dull stinging as they stretched you, pushing you through your pleasure, prolonging your release. Your hand came down to grasp his wrist squeezing it tightly, trying to pull it from within you as he scissored his digits within. 

It was too much. 

You were too sensitive.

A sob flew from your lips as you dug your nails into his hand, trying to tear his fingers out from within you. Aemond slowly pulled his fingers from within, leaving a wet trail along your inner thighs from your release and you twitched in his hold.

Your breathing slowly began to come down as your core fluttered around nothing.

Yet those fingers that were inside of you, were soon replaced with the thick head of your uncles cock, rubbing through your release-slick folds as he thrusted slowly from behind. You froze completely once you felt it, hand still gripping onto his wrist for dear life as he rocked back and forth, breathy moan falling from his lips into the side of your neck.

Your eyes welled with tears as you laid there, unable to do anything. 

You could not stop him. 

His hand parted your folds with great care as he rubbed himself against your centre, tip catching on your entrance as he slowly worked his way inside with, gentle, shallow thrusts, stretching you out as he gave you time to adjust to his length. 

He was only half way inside of you when you felt the burning stretch of his intrusion, though lesser than the first time. Your core clenched around him in pain as fear began to bloom. An uneasy whimper flitted past your lips, making Aemond bring a slick finger back up to your bud, gently drawing circles as he pushed himself fully inside of you. 

"Shhh." He cooed.

You silently cried out, feeling the head of his cock push up against your cervix. Aemond groaned behind you as he adjusted his hips, stilling inside of you as his finger continued to swirl around your pearl. Your core clenched around him as he began to pluck painful pleasure from you, feeling you slicken his length and slowly relax around him. 

Aemond stayed inside of you, feeling your heat flutter around his cock until finally he pulled back slowly, placing a small kiss against the side of your neck as he pushed his hips back into your heat, relishing in the warm, wet pleasure that you brought him. 

"Doing so good for me." He praised.

You clenched around him at the praise, a tiny moan escaping your lips. His finger on your pearl brought you close to another release, your hips squirming in his hold to try and chase it. Which horrified you all the more. 

Why did it feel so good?

You laid on your side as Aemond began to thrust into you, dragging his length through your folds, letting you feel each and every inch of him as he continued to draw pleasure from you with his fingers. He felt so large, and it stretched you deep within. With every slow push, you would swear that you could feel him in your stomach, the flesh bulging from his length. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you laid there.

This was so wrong.

It was so wrong.

Why did it have to feel this way?

Why was he being so gentle? 

Why was he bringing you pleasure?

Tears began to fall from your cheeks and onto the pillow below as he sped up his thrusts, the tip of his cock pressing sharply into your cervix with every thrust. He moaned from behind you as you felt his other hand wrap from underneath you, coming to rest on your lower stomach. 

Aemond pressed down onto your belly as he thrusted, amplifying your pleasure. It tightened everything and heightened your pleasure. You whimpered loudly in his hold. He felt so deep.

“Fuck, Zaldristos.” He moaned from behind, feeling your stomach bulge with every thrust of his cock. 

It made you feel ill, and so more tears fell from your eyes as you silently cried.

But then the coil began to tighten again, and your cunt gripped his shaft tighter with every thrust and roll of his fingers. When Aemond felt you begin to reach your peach, core clenching tighter against him, his hand pressed harder into your stomach, thrusting his hips into you harder. 

Aemond's fingers swirled around your slick bud quickly, and the lewd sound of your wetness and his hurried thrusts filled the chambers. He pushed into you harder, his tip digging painfully into the end of your core as he beat against it with no care. 

The hand on your stomach wound up your body as he continued, coming to palm your breast, rolling a pert nipple in his fingers. Your hips reflexively jerked backwards, his cock rubbing against the rough patch within you, causing the coil to snap once more, and your release flooding through your body. A broken moan falling from your lips

You jerked in his hold as he sped up thrusts, feeling you clench down on him tightly.

“Thats it. Good girl.” He murmured into your neck, placing a wet kiss on the skin as he continued to rub at your pearl, fucking you through your climax as your release coated his cock and your thighs.

More tears fell from your cheeks as he continued, his pace becoming rougher, seeking out his own peak. His hand left your breast, moving up to hold your neck, roughly squeezing it as his other hand finally left your bud, and gripped your hip viciously as he fucked himself into you. 

“So perfect. Always so perfect.” He moaned.

An airy squeak left your lips as he choked you, breathing restricted from his hand, each thrust punching up into you painfully after two releases, the overstimulation making you tense in his arms, but Aemond did not stop.

“So pretty." He grunted from behind, “Īlē vēttan syt nyke.” You were made for me.

His hand left your throat and moved higher, coming to grab your cheeks with his large palm, faltering as they felt the tears that flowed down them. As Aemond felt you crying, a feral growl came from his chest as he thrusted one final time, deep inside of you, pressing the tip of his cock up against your cervix as he came undone.

Aemond moaned behind you as he held your face, feeling the tears roll over his fingers as hot ropes of his spend painted your walls, tightly pressed against your womb. A broken sob left your lips as you felt the warmth of his cum flooding you.

Your core clenched painful around him from the aftershocks of your release, and you heard him grunt from behind you. Aemond sat pressed up inside your heat as he slowly softened in your walls, listening to you silently cry in front of him. His fingers on your cheeks rubbed against you, smearing the tears into your skin. 

You tried to roll away from him, to remove him from inside of you, but as soon as you moved, Aemond’s grip on your hip moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him in an iron grip to keep you were you were. 

Your stomach flipped as the glow of your release left, and shame and disgust crowded you. 

How could you have enjoyed that?

Why did you let him touch you like that?

Aemond stayed snugly inside of you until he fully softened, pulling out of your cunt slowly, as you felt his release leak from between your folds and down onto the sheets below. A hand came to brush against your core, gentle fingers prodding at your entrance, feeling where his spend had begun to leak from you. Another sob fell from your lips. His finger moved back up to your bud, attempting to press down on it again, and you jerked away with a pained yelp.

Only then did Aemond release his grip from you. 

Only then did the heat of his body move away from behind you, leaving your back cold and no longer smothered from the heat of his body.

Only then, once you had jerked yourself from his grip, did he roll over back to his side of the bed and fall easily to sleep, leaving you to bask in the horror of his assault once again. But this time your body felt heavy, and your eyes slide shut.

Exhaustion consumed you as you cried until you could not cry no more, silently beside your husband. The room was still dark, the fireplace was mere embers, and soon your body was dragged back down into the dreamless depths you had let consume you before.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!aemond #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond #smoke fire and ash

[batneko]

I've been watching Luigi's Mansion videos so here's another bowuigi idea:

King Boo took over an abandoned building and managed to lure in and capture a bunch of Luigi's friends. As Luigi's making his way through he finds a portrait of Bowser, of all people. At first Luigi is like Not My Problem, but his conscience gets the better of him and he goes back to free him.

Turns out the abandoned building was one Bowser Jr. liked to use for graffiti practice, and Bowser got caught when he came looking for him. Luigi finds this out because as soon as he's free Bowser grabs him and starts demanding where his son is and what kind of petty trick is this and all this must be Mario's fault somehow! It isn't until he tosses Luigi aside and declares he'll tear the whole building down that Luigi manages to get a word in edgewise.

Normally he'd be all in favor of destroying the building because it's haunted and he hates it here, but he's not sure what'll happen to his friends OR Junior if Bowser accidentally takes the portraits down along with the walls. Bowser is like "I don't take orders from you! But... uh, if you know what's going on I guess I could let you fill me in."

Luigi does, Bowser storms off to do slightly less destroying, and Luigi finds him in another painting two rooms later.

After that Bowser decides he's in charge but he'll allow Luigi to take point. There's not much he can do against ghosts, and he's too big to use the Poltergust, but having him along helps Luigi feel less scared. If he's grabbed by something or caught in a trap, Bowser can just grab him right back. And there's no need to find hidden doors since Bowser can tear through most indoor walls without breaking a sweat.

They find Junior before Mario, and Bowser is like "okay thanks for the assistance, loser. Bye." Leaving Luigi alone again. He hadn't expected anything else but it still doesn't feel great. But when Luigi is cornered by a floor boss, Bowser ends up smashing through a window and coming to his rescue.

He says he only did it because it'll be funny to tell Mario he owes him one, but Luigi thanks him anyway.

They keep going as a team, even fighting King Boo together ("You thought I was gonna let you get away with kidnapping MY kid and harassing MY- ... rival's brother?") but when Luigi goes to finally free Mario from the last portrait Bowser makes an excuse and dips. Didn't he say this was all just so he could rub it in Mario's face?

Later, once everything is over and everybody's home, Junior sends Luigi a drawing of him and Bowser fighting ghosts. Luigi pins it to his fridge.

#i don't know how they actually get together after this #maybe Luigi spontaneously kissed Bowser after one of his rescues #and Bowser is like 'ugh that's weird see if I ever help you again' #but saves him like three more times before they even leave the room #bowuigi #bowser x luigi #bowser #luigi #luigi's mansion #luwser #super mario bros #free idea

[notknickers]

this fic took too long to commit to digital paper than it should have, but it's done, so let's focus on that. i have incorporated a few of the headcanons i listed in another dedicated post. or, at least, i tried. synopsis: a strange routine has settled between you and colonel könig, your direct superior. one unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, after you got over the shock elicited by the reserved, dreadful giant seeking you out for comfort you did not imagine him needing… and the fact that he seems to need it from you more often than you from him. but an unspoken agreement is still an agreement.

warnings: unethical power imbalance, ptsd, dub con to full con, muffdiving for comfort, maledom to malesub, crying, heavy petting, orgasm control and denial, könig is a pet, slight degradation, praising, humping, cum eating, dispassionate fingering, second-person narration in present tense, no gender mention, but reader assumed to be afab, military-related inaccuracies, probably.

word count: 3887

A/N: if you're unsure whether to read this fic or not, here's something about me that might help you decide:

i like my porn grotesque and sentimental;

i like my men dangerous, submissive, pathetic (affectionate) and in tears.

a less blurry tentakönig than his previous appearance is once again here to kindly remind us that the following is aimed at an adult audience. please, respect this.

you are walking with a couple of new recruits along one of the corridors of the base’s building. from out the windows, the light hardly makes a difference, too weak at this early hour to lighten the interiors. chill still blankets you like dew on the grass outside: it hasn’t abandoned you since you woke up for drills.

this isn’t the fastest route to report for training, but there is still time, so you don’t fret. you chat lightly, nodding here and there in spite of the little interest you have for the banality of the noobies’ small talk, when the sound of heavy footfalls echoes ahead.

you hear him before you can see, the sight of colonel könig’s imposing frame following close behind the sound of his stomping gait. your comrades hesitate only a moment, going quiet and halting to salute the higher-ranking official. you don’t.

you are too busy taking in könig’s haunted eyes locking on you, a shiver running down your spine as soon as you notice how crazed they look. two dark pits in the holes of his mask, staring ahead through heavy eyelids smudged in black. your body has stopped moving before your brain could take stock of it; his pace has only increased.

there is not a doubt left: you are his target.

the colonel ignores the recruits and, without even slowing, seizes you by the waist with an arm, lifting you bodily and dragging you along with him. you do not fight it. instead, you gesture towards the hesitant others to go on without you and, after an awkward glance exchanged with one another, they are swift to follow your unspoken advice.

if something unethical is going on between an official and a private, neither of them wishes to witness it. the less they know, the safer their positions within their employer’s company.

you watch their shadows disappear on the wall, behind a sharp corner, and the bitter stench of tobacco mixed with acrid breath hits your nostrils, even through the fabric of the colonel’s mask. it makes you think how many hours he has been up, how long he has been storming the base looking for you, how many times he has choked the desire to drag you from your cot in the middle of the night with yet another cigarette for that smell to linger so thickly…

until the distraction of smoking stopped being enough to help him hold back.

he drops you to your feet, unceremonious, back against wall and falls to his knees, masked head reaching above your waist as he hastily unbuckles your belt. it jingles sharply in the gloom of early morning quiet, the padding of his thick gloves hindering the deftness of his movements, but not his will.

«colonel…», you hazard, voice small. but all you receive in response is more of his frenzied panting and a jolt as your belt is finally torn from your trouser’s loops.

one of his hands disappears under the trail of his mask, teeth pulling at glove, before brash fingers are back to tug at your button and zipper. you relent, disliking the idea of having to request another standard-issue uniform so soon and manage to get your hand under his, removing every obstacle along his way.

könig barely glances up at you in approval. he swipes down trousers and underwear in one pull with a groan. you barely see the pale, scarred skin of his lower face flash in the dim light as he lifts the dangling ends of his mask just enough, that his head already dives between your legs.

his thick fingers hold the softer flesh on your inner-thighs apart with such urge you sense with certainty you will find them bruised, as the colonel easily covers the length of your cunt with the flat of his tongue, uses it to spread your lips, so his can attach to your soft, delicate folds and suck enough to make you ache in both discomfort and desire.

«colonel…», you try again to little avail, the wet, smacking sound of his mouth on yours getting louder as he presses his lips, his chin, hard against you, his panting soon turning to satisfied groaning.

«make me…», he rasps hot against your skin while snatching one of your hands and planting it firmly on top of his own head, pale stubble of hair stinging your palm through the neck-hole of his t-shirt-mask.

as if you could really make colonel könig do anything in this state.

so desperate that his hips thrust back and forth of their own accord. they have been since the moment the colonel dropped in front of you to lose himself in his self-assigned task. they always do when his lips can taste your juices – or those of any other, you presume. they fuck empty air, occasionally swatting your legs as he laps at your cunt with wanton greed unknown to you before you and the colonel were introduced, large, gloved hand still covering yours, squeezing your fingers as he fantasises about you forcing him to pleasure you, like he requested.

it’s more of an instinct, an uncontrollable tic for him, than a genuine attempt at release for himself. he doesn’t even register how he could dry-hump your boot to get himself off, so completely taken by his visceral hunger for you while in the unshakable grip of whatever darkness stirs within.

the one that guided his actions so far. the one that guides his actions often.

you are certain he revels in the feel of your sex against his tongue more than you in the feel of his tongue against it; as if every lick and suck brought him closer to a salvation otherwise denied.

this confirms the initial suspicion that formed in your head as soon as you looked at his grey, dire eyes as he came at you like a battering ram: another one of his night terrors. another phantom lingering in his wake.

you don’t know what it is he sees in the back of his skull every time he blinds himself from sight, when exhaustion claims him and he has no choice but to succumb to it. that is the one thing that still remains a mystery and you won’t prise. you can imagine the horrors, you have seen it before, and that is not the kind of information you force out of someone, no matter how erratic they behave because of it.

his messy slurping is getting out of hand; the way he traps your lips and folds in his teeth and pulls on them, before burying his tongue in your slit to harangue your too-sensitive nub with his nose becoming unbearable; his feasting off of you far rougher than usual.

«col--- könig!», you finally call, voice stern, and his head lifts, chin glistening with spit, before the lower hem of his mask falls back down, sticking to it.

he looks at you as if he were seeing you for the first time today, fury, if not sated, at least subdued, for now. the troubled look so vivid in his eyes moments ago dulls enough that it’s only a pale, threatening glimmer on their glassy surface.

you carefully pinch the hem of your clothes, slowly lifting them to cover up. he stops forcing your thighs apart, so you can adjust your uniform around your hips, gaze still boring into his as you refuse to avert it from his unreliable nature, hoping it will be enough to stay his brash hand.

instead, he helps you with the button, then shuffles back a little, signalling he is no threat to you. he never really was. not willingly, at least.

«belt!»

he swiftly collects it from where he discarded it earlier in his state of rash lust and mysterious turmoil and coils it tidily around his fist, before placing it in your outstretched hand.

he watches, still on his knees, as you loop it back in place and buckle it close, his breathing quiet again.

«könig», his eyes are back to yours as he expectantly awaits for your next words, «to your quarters, colonel.»

you are the one to lock the door behind the two of you with the colonel’s implicit blessings. both of you know what comes next, yet könig does not move, waiting for your say.

so you do. you inhale deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to recollect yourself, knowing now that the distance between you, modest though it may be, will still be the same when you reopen them.

«kit off, colonel», there is no harshness in your voice, but it sounds authoritative all the same.

könig complies, ridding himself of any encumbrance save for his mask, then stands there, further waiting. you don’t allow yourself to indulge in his attractive figure too long, even when his arousal is difficult to ignore, pointing straight at you, leaking thickly.

«come», you barely open your arms and he goes down to the floor, crawling towards you. you meet him on the tiles, slipping your back against the door and settling in a squat as you invite him to join you, invite him closer.

now he can touch you.

he hugs your waist tight, almost dragging you down with him, but careful not to. his head immediately finds shelter in the hollow of your neck, silently begging for comforting touch you are now willing to provide. your hand is soon going through his short-cropped hair, mindful not to lift his mask.

not until he is ready to do it himself, or give you leave to.

there, on the floor, you both find your peace. the peace of liminality: fleeting, for it won’t last and, therefore, all the more precious. he barely moves, trying not to burden you with his conspicuous weight, even when, after a while, even your well-trained thighs and knees need reprieve from the squatting.

you sit down, legs spread wide to make room for könig as he slots himself between them, ruined, scarred lips tracing your throat downwards, then up again as his hands open the top of your fatigues, where more of your skin can be freed for him, covered only by your tank top.

he needs that contact. close. warm. reassuring. even when he unshackles your breasts from the trappings of your attire, mandated down to your underclothes, it is not out of need of his loins that he does so.

you hold him to your chest and soon, you feel his throat tremble. hot, wet tears melt his face, safely hidden against you, breaking the soft murmur of quiet breathing in low, reluctant and shameful sobs the colonel holds in until he cannot any more. a litany of exhalations and mutterings in his native tongue pushes out of him to take their place.

delirium

you hold him tighter as one of your hands finds its way under his mask to contour the battlefield that is his face. unevenly raised scars older and newer that litter his skin welcome the pads of your fingers as you wipe the tears with your palms, gently stroking.

he glances up at you, miserable, bloodshot eyes supplicating for things he couldn’t name if he knew what they were called.

«shhhh», you reassure him that there is no need to ask for anything as you begin to lift his mask, slowly enough to give the colonel time to object. he doesn’t and the fabric swishes off his head quietly.

now he is fully bare. a level of nakedness that you are sure not many have had the chance to witness.

your hold tightens around him and your hand runs through his matted hair, his damp cheeks, contouring the crooked shape of the left cheekbone, the one that broke and never healed right, dabbing at ever-renewing tears as he curses a past to you unknown.

the colonel shifts his heavy eyes, voice louder as he hisses at an invisible figure that hangs in the air of his memory, right next to your head, then shelters his face in your bosom again, crumpled on his knees, fingers digging the sides of your back, which he easily hugs.

you haven’t stopped stroking his hair a moment, holding the colonel as tightly as you’re capable of, trying to hush his whimpering with voice steady and secure.

you don’t know what could reduce the epitome of man such the colonel is, or at least, presents as, to this shaky mess and, at this point, you hope you never learn. the slump of his otherwise proud, muscled back looks pitiful as you stare at it. it brings a bitter scowl to your lips. what, indeed, could possibly have brought reserved and competent könig this low, in front of you?

you remember a tune you once heard him hum when he thought no one was there, or when he was so lost in thought that he did not even realise doing it, more likely. you intone it to the best of your memory.

this seems to soothe the colonel, enough that he is quiet, save for the occasional shaky gasp that still seizes his throat. he soon joins you, voice off-key and hoarse, to complete it with sparse words you couldn’t possibly know.

you try not to think of the consequences of missing the daily training, yet have no intention to ask the colonel to vouch for you. you want to keep this strange moment all to yourself, separate from your quotidian routine. a slice of time in an alternate place, cut away from your everyday reality.

yours and könig’s alone.

your thoughts are interrupted by the colonel’s mouth, warm and hungry. it wraps about the tips of your tear-stained tits and sucks, finally driven by different needs than consolation. your body responds right away to the ravenous love bites he marks on your skin, another blemish of his you will carry with yourself. a memento that this was not some daydream that never really was outside of your imagination.

your nipples pebble in his mouth and, as he steals another gasp from your throat, his demeanour emboldens. his large, rough hands cup your breasts while his teeth move to your neck, your jaw, your lips.

you are weak to his advances. you don’t deny him. yet it leaves you wondering who is taking advantage of whom.

«turn around, colonel», you forcefully grab a tuft of könig’s hair and pull the roots to show him you meant it. again, he complies, even though you can sense a note of disappointment.

he sits in front of you and you kneel at his back, bodies pressed tightly together as you reach around to knead his stomach, muscles flexing involuntarily as your hands descend. the thickness of könig’s abdomen forces you to struggle to reach his cock, but you can work with it. you already have in the past and the fingers now curling around the root of it confirm it.

your hand barely contains his heft, but it is quick to move along the heavy organ all the same. you squeeze, a groan reaching your ears as his flesh throbs back your touch, fingers tracing pulsing veins along it until they come away wet, foreskin rolling down softly almost on its own.

enough with the toying. you want to hear the colonel, könig, gasp and whimper as desperately as when he was weeping, but for rather different reasons. your determination spurs your movements and you start stroking his cock in earnest, wasting no more time.

it feels more aggression than service, almost violent, the way you abuse his cock with your hand, but you know he can take it. can take it. the man demands it. you know by the way, uncomfortable though it is sitting on the floor like that, he bucks his hips into your fist, meeting your downward slide with a jolt from his loins.

and when you torture him with your delightful touch, only to open your fist, enough for him to feel the silky warmth of your palm, but none of the friction, he whines for your hand back. he wines oh-so-sweetly for it as you mock him in pointed whispers in his ear.

this only riles him up more, forcing the most endearing of sounds through his broken lips. so you grant him his wish, hugging his girth in your fist and returning to your task, skin sliding smoothly with könig’s own wetness.

you repeat one, two, three more times, delighting each one in his reactions, until you force him to pleasure himself with your hand.

you hold it still around him, making him work for his release, his hips back to their frantic bucking, until you cheat him out of his pleasure one last infuriating time.

he curses in his tongue, that much you understand without need for translation, as you rise from the floor to stand a little distance away, in front of him.

«silence, dog! you know what i want, now.»

his chest heaves visibly as he peers at you from below, almost hateful in the intensity of his leer, but he obeys. back on all fours, he crawls towards your outstretched hand, seeking contact once more.

you stroke his face, damp and exhausted-looking, by now: «you’re a good, obedient dog, colonel.»

he hums at the praise and lets you guide him closer to you by his hair as you extend your left leg towards him, planting the heel of your boot to the floor. he observes while you let a glob of saliva trickle down on its tip and shuffle your foot to spread it on the rest of the black leather surface.

you lean towards him: «you know what i want from you now, pup.»

könig nods, then positions himself atop your boot, thighs straddling each side of it, disappearing it from sight with their large, powerful muscles. he stares up at you as he rubs his cock against the squeaky-clean, smooth leather you maintain in impeccable condition. he would do so even if that hand of yours caught in his hair weren’t twisting his neck backwards enough to relish in the sight of him.

his slower, sensuous movements begin to grow more haphazard once more. you are sure he will give himself rope burns with the laces if you don’t let him find relief.

«go on, colonel. i want you to come. now.»

he buries his face between your thighs as his hips keep working your boot, rubbing his cheeks against the rough fabric of your fatigues, lapping at it with his tongue, mouth hungry for the warmth and sweet taste of your cunt, just below the clothes, yet out of reach for the colonel until you decree otherwise.

he will have to settle for breathing in its scent, especially after those theatrics of his, earlier this morning.

finally, his penance is served in full. he moans against your crotch as he floods your boot with his seed, breath scorching as his mouth seals against your trousers to quiet his pleasured utterings.

his tongue is dry when he sits on his haunches to recover his breath.

you pet könig’s head, sweat wetting your palm as you run it along his skull: «you are a good pup, colonel», he basks in your praises, eyes almost beaming, «but do you know what a really good pup would do, now?»

he nods, sparing you the breath to tell him and immediately goes down to your boot again, lips and tongue working, relentless, to clean it from his mess. he doesn’t come up until not a single trace of his juices is left on your footwear, nor the floor around it, where it trickled.

you watch him swallow the last of it. No complaints.

that’s when you kneel to encase his jaws in your hands, so you can tilt his head towards you: «you were perfect, colonel.»

you can feel all the tension leave könig’s body. as for the anguish that plagues his spirit, you have done what you could.

colonel könig’s uniform looks impeccable on him. it hugs him perfectly, as if every piece of it were not lying crumpled on the floortiles only minutes ago. his mask is back on his head, shrouding his face as he likes. he waits by the door, gaze illegible, with a glass of apricot brandy in hand whose bottle he retrieved from one of the drawers.

he offered you some, but you declined. even if you could bear its taste, you don’t feel like indulging in spirits when your day has yet to begin. he shrugged and went to lean against the egress wall. he’s still sipping on it to rinse his mouth as you readjust your own fatigues.

you nod your head in goodbye and make to leave, but his figure doesn’t budge. you wait for an explanation. all you get is his gaze trailing behind you as he eyes his large desk, instead.

you sigh, considering what he is offering. your absence must have been noticed, by now and you don’t think a few more minutes will make a difference. in truth, your unsatisfied arousal is probably tainting your common sense, but you already said no to the brandy. it wouldn’t do to leave you superior without saying yes to a kindness he offers.

you nod and he sets his glass aside after emptying it. the temperamental giant easily lifts you again, this time much calmer and gentler, allowing you to find balance by gripping his shoulders as he walks towards the elegant wooden surface.

he rests you on it, sheltering your head with his arm and taking a few steps back as he waits for you to undo your trousers and pull them down enough. you do, clumsily, but quickly and you see him return, towering from above, eyes vacuous and inexpressive now that his mask is back on his face.

he repositions you to his liking, bending your knees to your chest to grant himself a nice view of both your face and your cunt, dripping from all the pent-up energy you accumulated during your session.

he ungloves his right hand, bringing the fingers to his mouth to wet them more out of habit than need, then plants the left one beside your face as he leans over you, mask hovering above you, brushing your face as his fingers find easy way inside you.

he gets working right away, no preambles, rather utilitarian in his approach. his thick index and middle finger squelch rhythmically inside you as his thumb covers your clit. he attacks your sweet spot right away, curling his fingertips as you bite hard on your lower lip to stifle your noises.

the recent memory of him kneeling at your feet, obedient and desperate, coupled with a few more pointed, circular motions and you’re convulsing around his hand, arms instinctively sheltering your eyes from his as your back arches. you feel him retreat right away, his job done and you can finally readjust your clothes for good.

you glimpse könig sneak the fingers he used on you under the hem of his mask, the sucking sounds you hear as you buckle your belt around your waist eloquent enough. he doesn’t seem satisfied until he has licked all of your humours from them, then his glove is fitted back on.

now you can leave.

thank you for reading. let me know what you thought, if you feel like it. and please, if you enjoyed it, consider reblogging.

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