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stylesispunk · 29 days

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"You're always on my mind"

Joel Miller x f!reader.

summary: You are Joel's reason to live and he is yours.

word count: 3k

warnings: some fluff and heavy angst.

a/n: I'm still on my writing break, but I couldn't take this one out of my head, so you have it here. I don't want to go into details because it would spoil the whole fic, but this is pretty much based on a movie, and by the name and the song, you may get the idea which one is it. Reblogs and comments are appreciated, so please come here and tell me your thoughts. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Finding such beautiful things in a world like this was not an easy thing to do. In a world like this, there was no spare room for distractions but survival.

In a tarnished world, you were a rose blooming from frozen ground, when neither the coldness of the cryptic winter could end your sweetness.

You were there even when your heart broke at the sight of him, defeated and lost without his Sarah; without the tiny baby he raised, he died in his arms that night of September.

You were there when he became cold, and Machiavellian, a distant ghost of the sweet man with the gleamy brown eyes that smiled at you without a warning, was just off and gone.

And you were broken for him, anxious and afraid of him letting his life go away because the pain of tightening his chest might have been stronger than his love for you.

He was hurting you by hurting himself, and he knew it. He knew he was hurting you; he was aware of the pain he was causing just by looking at your somber gaze, lost in state. Yet he couldn't care or see beyond his own pain. He had lost his daughter and his baby, and he was losing you as you slipped through his fingers.

He had tried to end his life, but he failed. He was going to leave you behind, and he didn’t think about it. He had decided he was going to die and find solace in the thought that he would be reunited with his daughter in a peaceful world while leaving you in a tarnished reality full of monsters and nightmares. Alone with your fears and pain suffocating your lungs. Alone, just by yourself, as if he wasn't the only reason you had to survive.

After the bullet rubbed the skin of his temple, you became silent. You weren’t able to look at the scar marked on his skin, let alone look at his eyes.

And Joel’s heart was constricted against his ribs. Once he failed, he woke up from his trance, and he became aware that he hadn’t been looking after you as he should, but you were silent and you were on his mind.

You weren’t talking, but he knew you were broken because of him.

One day, you were coughing, and Joel's heart contracted against his ribs, and his breath stopped as he listened to your complaints.

"You're sick," he said, looking at you, pacing angrily at him mostly.

Silence.

"You should drink water or

"Or one of those things is going to come after us, I know," you replied without giving a look.

“Do you want to get yourself?"

"Killed? Yes, maybe I do want that." Your voice was motionless, as your eyes kept staring at the flames from the fire flying away to the sky.

"Don't you ever say that; you hear me?"

Silence, defeating silence.

"Answer when I talk to you, please.” He looked for a glimpse of the spark that used to adorn your gaze. Joel's voice trembled with emotion as he stepped closer to you.

"You can't give up," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned away from him, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows across the walls of your makeshift shelter.

“You were going to give up,” you whispered once you weren’t facing him.

Joel's heart sank at your words, the weight of them heavy in the air between you. He reached out a hand, hesitating, before gently resting it on your shoulder.

"I... I know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "I was lost. I was so consumed by my own pain that I couldn't see beyond it. But seeing you... seeing how much I've hurt you... it's woken me up."

You felt his touch, gentle over your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him. The wounds were still raw, and the pain was too fresh.

"I'm sorry," Joel whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I promise to do better. To be better."

Silence hung heavy between you, but it wasn't the suffocating silence of before. It was a silence tinged with possibility and the hope of redemption.

Slowly, tentatively, you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity.

"You tried to kill yourself, Joel!" You called out "You are in pain, but I am too! Sarah was mine too; maybe not by blood, but she was my daughter too." You sobbed, not being able to contain the tears from spilling. "You were going to leave me alone. Here and-"

He cut you off by pressing his lips against you, expressing all the love he held on his chest and on his whole body for you.

"I love you; I love you; I love you," he murmured against your lips, recomforting, "I'm sorry."

As Joel's lips met yours, a flood of emotions washed over you: love, sorrow, forgiveness, and hope. His kiss was a silent confession, a promise to be there for you, to fight alongside you, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

Tears mingled with the warmth of his embrace as you melted into his arms, feeling the weight of the world begin to lift from your shoulders. In that moment, you realized that, despite the pain and the struggles, there was still beauty to be found in the love you shared.

"I love you too," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. "I forgive you."

Joel pressed his forehead against yours, holding your face in his palms with such a delicate touch. "We keep each other alive," he murmured.

"We keep each other alive," you echoed softly, the weight of his words sinking in.

He kept the promise. He would live for you, and you would live for him; you were each other's reason to stay alive in a mad world.

With time, he let his guard down. Settling in a place like Jackson, in a world like this, it seemed like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. There were people laughing, wearing nice clothes, and sleeping under a safe roof, and yes, it was nice, but Joel didn't want the conformity to ruin his careful routine.

But he couldn't help it. It was impossible to resist his sights in the mornings when the first rays of sunshine peeked through the window, directly at you on your side of the bed. He was astonished by you, by the effortless beauty of your creases and your ends, by your peaceful demeanor, next to the warmth he would provide.

While his achy bones and silver hair reminded him that he was getting old, you looked the same, as if time and pain never took their toll on you.

"You always do that," you murmured, your voice drained from sleep.

"Do what?" was his question, smiling.

"Staring," you blinked your eyes open, trying to wash your sleep away. "It's creepy"

"I love watching you sleep, so I can remember what you thought the day was."

You chuckled; the sound resonated in Joel's ears.

"Sorry if it creeps you out," Joel said, his smile softening. "I just... I can't help it. You're beautiful, even when you're asleep."

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching out to tousle his hair affectionately. "You're such a sap, Joel."

He laughed, leaning into your touch. "Maybe I am. But I mean it. You're the reason I’m alive.”

Your smile dropped. “Don’t say that.”

Joel's expression softened, realizing he may have touched a sensitive nerve. He gently took your hand in his, his eyes searching yours with sincerity.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly. "But it's true. You've been my anchor through the storm, the light in the darkness. Without you, I don't know where I'd be."

A tiny smile graced your lips as you looked at him, studying his face, the creases on his forehead, and the silver hair growing. Time had hurt Joel, but it made him look beautiful to your eyes, and you felt a sadness within your body.

“What do you want to do today?” Joel asked, smiling at you.

You took a moment to compose yourself, letting Joel's words sink in before responding. Despite the weight of his declaration, you knew his love for you was genuine, and it filled you with warmth.

"I don't know," you replied, returning his smile. "Maybe we could take a walk around the town? It's been a while since we've explored together."

Joel nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "That sounds like a great idea. It'll be nice to spend some time outside, away from these walls.”

Joel didn't like how people ignored him. His protective instincts kicked in as he noticed the way some people in the town seemed to ignore your presence. He tightened his grip on your hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. Even though he knew that you were the only one who could see him, he couldn't bear to see you being overlooked and dismissed by others.

“You seemed tense,” you joked, nudging his neck with your nose as you walked.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for your ability to find humor even in difficult situations.

“Yeah, well, I hate how people look at me as if I were," he replied, his voice tinged with warmth as he squeezed your hand gently.

“You know why,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention back to the path ahead.

Just then, Tommy noticed Joel walking and approached him with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Brother! Where are you off to?" Tommy called out, his voice breaking through the silent atmosphere in Joel’s little world.

Joel glanced at Tommy, offering a small smile in return. "Just taking a walk," he replied, gesturing the way.

Tommy's smile widened as he nodded, noticing Joel’s cheerful humor. "Nice to see you out and about.” He downed his head for a moment. “Are you okay, right?”

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment, waiting for the words to come out of his lips: “Better than ever.”

"Yeah, Tommy, I'm doing alright," Joel replied, his voice laced with false cheerfulness. "Just enjoying the day."

Tommy nodded, though a hint of skepticism flickered in his eyes. "Good to hear, Joel. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."

With that, Tommy bid them farewell, leaving Joel to grapple with the weight of his secret once more. As they resumed their walk, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that gnawed at him, knowing that no matter how much he longed for connection,.

“Don’t be mad. He’s just worried,” you said, picking up on Joel’s behavior.

Joel sighed softly, grateful for your understanding and support. He knew you were right; Tommy meant well, and his concern was genuine. Yet the weight of his secret still pressed heavily on Joel's shoulders, a constant reminder of the barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.

"I know," Joel murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just wish I could... I’m the big brother.”

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering a silent gesture of comfort. Joel found solace in your presence, in the way you understood him without needing words.

"I'm lucky to have you," Joel whispered, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You smiled at him, not speaking more words, and you continued your walk together, hand in hand.

Once you were outside the walls of Jackson, you led the way. As Joel noticed the surroundings, his apprehension grew with each step. Memories of that fateful day flooded his mind—the pain, the fear, and the aftermath.

"I don't like this place," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension as he halted abruptly in his tracks.

You turned to face him, noting the five-foot gap that separated you. "Please, “you implored, your fingertips gently caressing his cheeks. His eyes closed, savoring the warmth against his skin, oblivious to the tears welling up.

"Love," he murmured, his voice trailing off.

“Please, tell me you still have that sweet love inside you," you pleaded, still tracing delicate patterns on his face.

"You know I don’t," he finally answered, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

As the warmth of your touch withdrew, he opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears shimmered in your eyes, and Joel felt his heart clench.

"It's been a year, Joel," you whispered, but he shook his head, unwilling to accept your words.

"You need to let me go," you urged gently.

"I can't. I don't want to," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart ached as you listened to Joel's words, knowing the depth of his pain and longing. You wished you could ease his suffering; you wished you could erase the sorrow that weighed so heavily on his shoulders. But you also knew that holding on to the past would only prolong his agony.

"Joel," you said softly, reaching out to cup his face in your hands once more.

“I can’t,” he repeated. “This is the only way I can have you,” his tears falling down his checks.

"I can't just let you go," Joel protested, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I was so happy that you were mine.”

Your eyes softened with understanding, yet they were also filled with a profound sadness. "I know it's hard, Joel. But holding onto me like this is only hurting you more. You deserve to find peace."

Joel's gaze faltered, torn between the desire to cling to the memory of you and the need to find a way to heal. His heart ached with the unbearable emptiness that consumed him, a void that seemed impossible to fill.

"I don't know how to live without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him a silent anchor amidst the storm of his emotions. "You don't have to do it alone, Joel. Let me be a part of your memories, but also let yourself live for the present."

Tears welled up in Joel's eyes, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of your words. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded, a flicker of hope stirring within his heart.

“Close your eyes,” you told him, grabbing the same hand you had put on the wedding band the day you got married, when the world hadn’t ended.

As Joel closed his eyes, a sense of calm washed over him, knowing that whatever was to come, he was not alone. He felt the warmth of your touch and the gentle pressure of your hand in his, and he let himself be enveloped by the love and comfort you offered.

With a trembling breath, you began to speak, your voice soft yet filled with emotion. "Joel," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of a lifetime of love and memories. "I want you to know how much you meant to me and how deeply I loved you."

Tears streamed down Joel's cheeks as he listened, hanging onto every word and every syllable that passed your lips. He felt his heart ache with bittersweet longing, the pain of losing you mingling with the warmth of your love.

"You were my everything, Joel," you continued, your voice breaking with the intensity of your emotions. "And even though I'm not physically with you anymore, I will always be a part of you, guiding you and watching over you."

Joel's grip tightened around your hand, his chest constricting with a mixture of grief and gratitude. "I love you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

And then, as you finished speaking, Joel felt a shift in the air—a gentle breeze that seemed to carry your presence away. He opened his eyes, expecting to see you standing there before him, but to his dismay, you were gone.

"No," Joel whispered, his voice echoing through the empty space around him. "Don't leave me."

But there was no response, no comforting touch to reassure him. You were gone, leaving behind only the memories and an ache in Joel's heart that would never truly heal. And as he stood there, alone in the silence,.

Ever since that tragic day, when you had died while patrolling with Joel, he had been unable to escape the relentless grip of grief. It was a stupid accident, one he could have prevented if he had been faster, but he wasn't, and he was paying the price.

Right now, every moment and every breath seem to echo with your absence. He had held himself to the memories of your laughter, your touch, and your presence by his side. Everywhere he turned, he saw traces of you. You were there, and he could touch you, but now your goodness fades away with the air. He longed for the comfort of your embrace, the warmth of your smile, and the sound of your voice calling out his name.

But there was silence. He turned around, and with the heaviness in his heart and tears spilling down his checks, he walked back alone to Jackson. This time, there was no reminder of you by his side. Tears blurred Joel's vision as he trudged along the familiar path, the memories of that day replaying in his mind like a relentless nightmare.

But no amount of regret or self-blame could bring you back, and Joel knew that he would have to find a way to carry on without you by his side.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears still streaming down his cheeks, Joel resolved to carry on, to face each day with courage and determination, knowing that even though you were gone, your love would always be with him.

You were always on his mind.

846 notes · View notes

mphountitled · 5 months

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omg hi pookie bear , hru ?

i’m going feral and have a request <\3 hmm what if anton hasn’t seen his gf in a few months because she stays in the states . they usually make sure to call and check in with each other every night but maybe for the last few days she hasn’t been responding too much but only because she’s flying to go surprise him ! so basically a bit of angst then fluff at the end loll (and a little smut if ur up to it 🤓👆🏾) .

also, can i be 🎀 anon ?!

Of course, my darling! Thank you for the lovely request, I literally had so much fun writing this omg.

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞

- Pairings: Anton Lee x Fem!Reader

- Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, Angst, Jealousy, Relationship Paranoia, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Spitting, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Unprotected Sex, Needy Sex

He wouldn't call himself obsessive.

That's not the correct word. Infatuation would probably best explain the tempest of emotions rattling through his brain when his phone rings, signaling a video call from you.

Sungchan's chest rises and falls with the extremities of their evening workout. He barely keeps himself toppling over when he and the rest of the group watch Anton lumber to his bag in large, quick steps

"Yo?" Sohee asks, anatomically defeated as he races to catch his breath.

"Carry on, without me," Anton throws over his hunched shoulder. He is cupping his phone with both hands when he enters one of the many bathrooms peppered throughout the gym, letting his feet guide him almost robotically into a stall while his finger swipes to answer the video call. At the sight of your relaxed smile, Anton exhales lightly.

He knew it's particularly bad to form dependant relationships, but he couldn't exactly help himself, can he? Your voice is just so light when you say, "Hi," and his is equally shy as he replies with his quiet "Hi yourself."

Anton can not help himself from being so incredibly infatuated. He's diving headfirst into codependency, but hey, at least he is aware.

At least he is aware that he would do quite literally anything for the girl in trapped in his phone, and you would do the same for him, therefore it is of no surprise at all when he airly says, "You're so pretty,"

His voice is barely above a whisper and his eyes are bright as he buries the lower half of his face in the comforting fleece of his black sweater. "Really pretty,"

An airy sort of chuckle escapes the confines of your lips, and Anton's pulse begins to race as he takes note of your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. "Anton, did you hear anything I just said?" If it weren't for the slight hesitation that pollutes the sound of your beautiful voice, Anton would've gladly kept staring at your lips. But his heart sinks imperceptibly as he gazes back at you apprehensively.

"Uh- no," he says, "I was too busy thinking about how excited I am for you to get here." The panic only begins to set when your smile wavers.

"Oh... about that-"

"No," he whispers, "Please don't do that-"

"My boss hasn't exactly cleared me for a vacation day-"

Anton is livid, but his voice remains stable. "We have spoken about this for 2 months!"

"You know how my boss can be," you reply, "He hasn't given me off, Anton. I have no one to cover my shift, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, as the dreaded guilt begins to trickle into your voice. Anton's eyes narrow, and he brings his phone closer. Temporarily ignoring his whirlwind of negative emotions, Anton instead skeptically asks, "Where are you?" That doesn't look like your bathroom."

Anton's heart only sinks lower into the pit of his stomach when he notices a quick hint of alarm flash through your eyes before you're pulling the camera back into a more intimate aspect ratio as you prattle on. "Yeah, I just decided to head to the movies to make myself feel better. Maybe you should do the same," your voice is tight and layered with anxiety as if you were... lying to him.

Anton cannot imagine why you would want to do that, least of all to him. He knew when you lied because you both did it together. On myriad occasions.

He made you call up your part-time job on multiple occasions, rubbing smoothe, encouraging circles on your belly while you feigned an illness just to spend more time with him.

In high school, you had both lied to each of your parents about 'studying together' when in actual fact, those 4 had been excuses to make out messily in your sheets. Exploring confusing emotions until a simmering heat flowed through the both of you while Anton's large hands began to pet over new, various spots on your body.

He had never been on the receiving end of your dishonesty, not even since he left the country. But here you are, evading eye contact, stuttering over your words and lying...

to him.

"How's the team workout been, big boy?" He notices with grave finality how quick you are to not only change the subject, but to weaponize a nickname that you knew would have him melting for you.

Is this what you have both become?

Was he seriously being manipulated?

Was he...

Perhaps...

Being cheated on?

The thought sent a wave of nausea threatening to spill out of his badly pursed lips, and perhaps you realize, from years of studying Anton's non verbal expressions, that he was thinking of something very grave and very bad.

"Hey, didn't you say you only had five minutes?" Your voice is like the tingling goosebumps left in the wake of your nails raking across his skin and he shivers slightly.

"Yeah," his voice, although characteristically quiet, is guarded and you frown, perhaps noticing that you have a lot of making up to do.

Anton suddenly, quite literally out of the blue, asks, "Remember when you said you went bra shopping the other day?

"Yeah?" You ask, completely oblivious to the darkened thoughts polluting your boyfriend's mind. You watch his eyes tare into yours as he monotonously asks.

"Are you wearing any of the new ones right now?"

"Anton, aren't you in the middle of-"

He immediately cuts in, voice impatient and snide, "They can carry on without me, it's fine."

It was petulant, but Anton needed to know you still belonged to him. He needed to know that high school wasn't some sick fever dream you could just swiftly move past as if it meant nothing. He needed to know that.

"Can I see?"

You curtly comply, and you look around before pushing yourself further into the stall. You both found yourselves on opposite end of a cellular line, both silent with the weight of your attraction to one another, keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

"Please?" He asks, in an airy voice, "for me?"

Anton knew from the strike of guilt in his chest that it was not a morally correct thing to do, but what else was there?

You would be away from him, indefinitely. He would have to spend another evening, another week, another month without your body to hold onto. Not to mention, the jealousy at this new hypothetical boyfriend still hung heavily on his shoulders.

Besides, Anton's guilt completely disappeared when you begrudgingly pulled the string of your halter neck down until the material was falling flmisily down your torso, exposing your chest to him. Anton released a wobbly breath while his hand almost immediately went to cover the bulge, forming in his oversized pants. "Oh god," he whispered.

It was so remarkably mesmerising watching your boyfriend slips so easily into desire. You knew he was angry and that made this part of the mission remarkably uncomfortable, but instead, you choose to focus on Anton's lumbering breathing through the screen of your phone. His large eyes hooded and locked onto your breasts, still very much covered by your white lace bra.

Although he cannot see anything besides cleavage, Anton reckons he could cum just from this. That's how bad he needs you, that's how bad he yearns for your soft, grounding presence to be near him.

But your phone chimes. And just as Anton's jaw locks, you exclaim, "Babe, I have to go-"

"What?" The frown on his face is astounding, but you're already propping your phone up to pull up the strings of your dress.

His protests fall on deaf ears.

You could not very well tell him that you have already touched down in Korea. You couldn't tell him the unrecognizable bathroom stall was a sterile cubicle in the international airport. You couldn't tell him that you were closer than he thought.

"My movie is gonna start soon,"

His shoulders visibly deflate and your heart pounds faster in your chest.

"Skip it,"

"I'll call later okay?"

"Skip the movie."

"I love you,"

When you abruptly ended the call, Anton stared at his screen until the dimness turned to black, with only one question permeating through his restless mind.

'Do you?'

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"You say you hear me," Sohee's voice reaches the rafters as the group of boys leave the gym. "You hear me, but do you feel me?"

"Gross," Anton mumbles, leaving Sohee behind.

"It's a simple question," The older boy continues, "at what point does water become soup?"

"When any reasonable amount of seasoning is added," pipes up Shotaro, adjusting the straps of his work out bag along his shoulder.

"Don't encourage him," Eunseok grumbles as they all walk out into the cool night air.

Anton's gaze is still lowered to the floor, but his breath stutters momentarily at the sudden rush of the open air.

"So salt water can be considered soup?" Sohee scoffs, "That's what you're telling me right now?" The group groans in unison, all beginning to walk like a hive mind to the nearest restaurant. All except Anton, who is quieter than usual, whose only plans for the evening consist of wallowing in self-pity.

"Hey, um, I'm just gonna go home," he says, causing the group of boys to stop in their tracks. Anton evade their curious, worried gazes.

"Not when you look like you're about kill yourself-" Shotaro says, attempting to step closer to Anton, but only frowning when the youngest takes a step back.

"That's okay," he attempts to reassure his friends, "There's a beat thats been..." Anton does vague hand gestures to the side of his head, "I wanna go work,"

He was already walking away, head bowed, and headphones pushed over his head, walking into the night before his friends could even get a word in...

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

He could not describe his feelings as Jealousy. That somehow felt like to tame a word to describe the flurry of emotions hanging so heavily on Anton's face as he pushes the password into the door's keypad, before kicking his shoes off at the door.

Anger was certainly a part of it. The large monolith of emotions threating to burst right through him. He felt unpleasantly overstimulated, even in the silence of the apartment. He felt like anything and everything was threatening to have him burst at the seams, his emotions running along the rim of his usually calm and collected state of mind, ready to spill over and make a dreaded mess everywhere.

Anton's only plans for the night had been to lock himself in his dorm room, perhaps crying, perhaps screaming, perhaps knocking himself out for a couple hours with his prescription sleeping pills. Anything to make this horrific strain on his heart disappeared.

The baggy clothes he is accustomed to wearing somehow appear bigger and sloppier as he lumbers his way deeper into the apartment, heart sinking the more steps he takes.

"Oh look,"

Cold, piercing phantom pain zings through his heart, kickstarting every dormant sleepy cell in his body.

"A dinosaur,"

Anton thinks that he couldn't even move if he wanted to. His socks are glued to the threshold, watching you, or perhaps an apparition of you, laying lazily on his bed.

His bed.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, and you watch with furrowed brows as Anton brings his two hands up to his face. You immediately push yourself off the bed when he begins to slap lightly at his cheeks, whispering incoherently about asylums and potentially getting a contact high.

His cheeks are already bright red when you stumble your way in front of him.

“Woah, Big boy,” your hands are on his wrist, effectively stopping Anton from reddening the skin any further.

He can feel you. He can feel the softness of your palms struggling to enclose around his large wrists.

“This is real,” he whispers, watching with wide, doe eyes as a smirk curls at the end of your lips. Before you can reply in whatever witty or snarky remark you had cooked up, Anton was already bending his head until his lips were crashing down to yours.

He very surprisingly, very uncharacteristically pours his strength into the kiss until you were stumbling back rather clumsily into his room.

Anton crumbles into a flurry moans and groans as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, melting into a whimpering puddle when your tongue brushes against his. “B-But when?” he breathes out before reattaching his lips to yours, letting his hands roam unabashedly over every part of your body it can find.

The infuriating need to breathe causes him to pull apart from you once again, but he never strays too far. Anton’s fingers dig into your sides until he's pulling your dress over your head. He wishes to capture every single inch of your exposed body to memory. The way you look up at him with a light, relieved smile curling at the sides of your puffy, red lips.

You're so much shorter than him, and it sends his brain into a mindless, state of lust. He loves how big he feels when you two are together, in the flesh with no digital box separating the two of you.

“H-How?” He breathes out, noting immediate that you are in the same white lace bra from your earlier phone call.

There is a cheeky smile on your face when you pull his oversized shirt over his head, all while he stares you down as if you hung the moon.

“I always keep my promises, Ant,”

His body betrays him with a rough shiver and he groans as you push him onto his bed, discarding his shirt behind you. As you prowl your way on top of him, Ant throws his head back into the sheets, nearly hyperventilating at the sight of you straddling his hips. You lift your torso, immediately discarding your bra, and Anton’s hand flies to cup your breasts. This, he immediately decides, is what heaven looks like.

“Fuck, you're so fucking pretty, you know that?” Anton rarely ever swore, so to hear the crass words coated in his airy, breathless voice is enough to have you moaning into the air, arching your back as you push his face into your chest while you press your core down onto his irresistible bulge.

“Oh God, Anton.”

“Missed you so much,’ he whines, before enclosing his mouth around your nipple, almost instinctively pushing his hips up to meet your desperate grinding. You were quite literally humping like maddened adolescents brimming with too many hormones to know what to do with.

When Anton feels his cock twitching in his pants, he immediately pulls away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “I need to be inside of you,” he admits gravely, already getting up to switch places until you were underneath his large and lumbering frame, “I don't think I'll last long,” Another grave admittance. He pushes his hand into his sweatpants, and you watch, mesmerized as he reveals his large, aching cock absolutely leaking precum.

“I'm definitely not gonna last long,” you reassure before eagerly opening your restless legs, “We're gonna cum together, yeah?” Anton squeezes his eyes shut before squeezing the base of his twitching dick. All while you slip your own underwear down.

“Yeah,” he agreed before positioning his cock at your weeping enterance.

You both watch mesmerized as his cock begins to stretch the tight walls of your soaked cunt. The stretch, immediately causing a whimper to slip out of your mouth as you throw your head back into the pillows. You're clenching around him, while Anton coaxes himself into you with shallow thrusts. The rutting being just enough to spill a wave of pleasure over the both of you. He watches you moan with wide, pained eyes.

“I know, baby-” He whisper, “You're doing so good for me, you know that?”

“Fuck, you're so big,” is all you're able to say, effectively causing his hips to stutter.

“F-Fuck I'm not gonna last long-”

Instead of repeating your response, you bring your hips up to meet Anton's thrusts effectively, taking him deeper and deeper until he was fucking you with little to no restraint.

“Oh God,” you whisper, as Anton clumsily brings a hand up to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. Not even a minute later and you're both sitting in the crest of your respective orgasms, looking deep into each other's eyes as if you were communicating that fact. Anton nods, completely dazed.

“Close,” he whimpers, “I'm so fucking close,”

Anton bends his head, spitting directly onto your clit. The sight has your hips stuttering, as the first signs of your orgasm warms your lower abdomen.

“F-Fuck, Ant- I'm-”

The moment his hand travels to rub dizzying wet circles on your clit, you crash into your orgasm.

“Oh fuck- oh fuck-” He fights to keep his eyes open but your squeezing him so hard and Anton can't help but cum directly inside of you. Both your lips are hanging open as your boyfriend attempts to fuck every last drop of his seed into you. You're both releasing months worth of frustration.

The frustration of not being near one another. Of relying on a device to keep your relationship afloat. It all comes crashing down until Anton's is thoughtlessly collapsing on top of you - the weight of a giant landing your front, with his hand playing lazily, wiyh your breasts as you both fight to catch your breathe.

Despite the obvious discomfort, the very last thing you think of doing is pushing him away. Instead, you cradle him closer, raking your fingers into his hair while his eyes flutter shut.

All is quiet, and you vaguely believe Anton may have fallen asleep, but his voice is wide awake as he says, “I thought you were cheating on me.”

You remain quiet, hoping the soft petting on his wild curls was reply enough.

“I'm never letting you go back, okay?”

Your eyes are heavy as you continue to smooothe down his hair, and you whisper, “Okay”.

♡♡♡

#anton lee x reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #anton riize #lee anton #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #anton lee smut #riize fluff #riize hard hours #riize #riize x imagine #riize imagines #anton fluff #anton #riize headcanons

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miserycanary · 1 month

Text

PLEASE PAINT OVER MY BRUISES ᡣ𐭩

synopsis: pairing: early 30s!Ghost & 20s!reader (can be read as platonic)

synopsis: Ghost as your refuge from your abusive father

tags: angst, verbal abuse, physical abuse, hurt/comfort

| The first meeting was a coincidence.

Shivering from the midnight breeze, you huddled your flimsy sweater close with one hand out to hold your cigarette. One inhale of nicotine got you throwing your head back, forgetting the situation back home that led you to wander the streets at midnight. Busy peering up at the stars in the sky, you didn't notice someone's presence there until you felt your cigarette pulled from your lips and stomped on the ground.

"Dude! Not cool. That was my last," you angrily mumbled, squatting down to see if you could still use it. "Leave it." The voice took you by surprise, tilting your head up to see a hunk of a man, carrying some beers, looking down on you. You took notice of the calloused hand gripping the paper bag, meaning he was probably a lot older than you. Say early 30s? "Easy for you to say," a retort you throw at him. "I don't have money to buy more—" "then don't buy more," he plainly states, looking at you. Standing up, you finally noticed the mask on his face. With a roll of your eyes, you flip him off, grumbling under your breath, “fucking weirdo”.

| The second time was fate's joke.

Groaning and yelling, you kick an empty soda can, cursing out your good-for-nothing father. You ran your fingers through your hair, tears slipping on the corner of your eyes as every part of your body ached in pain. Sniffles turn to sobs, muttering about ending it all as everything seemed to never go your way. The oversized shirt barely concealed the bruises, recent and old, making you wince. “Fuck, I hate this shit,” your eyes got hazy, breathing almost cut short. With minimal effort, you sit by the store’s wall to steady yourself. Face buried in your arms, you— once again— don’t notice his presence.

The first time Ghost met you, he thought you were another rebellious teenager trying to act cool. You didn’t have a job, so he assumed you were a student. When he got home from that first meeting, he could only sigh and hope you’d gone back to your parents. Imagine his surprise when he sees you again, huddling by the store, sobbing. He was not one to manage emotions, so he thought of leaving you alone when a sudden gust of wind caught his attention. Blowing the flimsy fabric on your body, Ghost could see the marks on your body; marks he was too familiar with. Without hesitation, he walked over, pulled you up, and led you to his car. You didn’t even protest. How far gone are you to not even try to fight to live?

The silence on the way to his house was uncomfortable, with your occasional sniffles which turned to hiccups. His eyes glanced at you from the side. With one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches at the back to grab one bottle of water from his bag and hands it to you. “It’s not drugged,” he tried to joke. “I wouldn’t mind if it was,” you mumbled, silencing Ghost from awkwardness. At the end of the night, you found refuge. You were offered a place to stay, some food, clothes, and.. peace and safety. You found something rare that you never want to let go of.

| The rest are blessings.

Opening up to Ghost was relatively easy. Was it because you guys shared the same experience? Was it because he was the first to ask? All you know was you had him now. You would always come to his house when you needed to escape, and he never seemed to push. But the day you finally told him was a time you’d love to keep but forget.

Coming to the place that seemed to be hell on Earth, you were immediately greeted by a chokehold, pressed against the wall. “Fucking brat. What took you so long? Are you out there spreading legs for people, bitch? The apple doesn’t really fall far from the tree. Your bitch mother was also a whore” ‘Ah, it smells like liquor. He’s drunk again’ you thought, eyes drained of life. Next thing you felt was yourself slumping down on the floor with an ache on your face. ‘This motherfucker really punched me’ “If you ever think of following that bitch’s footsteps and leaving me, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Sighing, you pull your legs closer to your chest while your father repeatedly stomps his foot on your legs, then your back. He eventually got tired, leaving after spitting on your face. It took everything in you to force yourself to stand and make your way to your room.

Dread immediately poured in when you noticed every drawer was pulled. “No, no, no, no, no'' you sobbed, rushing to look at the place where you hid your safety money. Feeling nothing, you started to cry, rushing out the door and ignoring the yells from your father. You didn’t know where you were going. Using the only 10 dollars you had left, you took a cab to the only place you know is heaven on Earth.

As soon as the cab pulls up to the familiar house, you storm out of the vehicle. You rush to the door, opening it using a spare key and yelling his name.

“SIMON,” you cried. Footsteps thundered and you see his figure pop up from the kitchen, eyes widening as he takes in your state. It was like all the weight on your shoulders was lifted, your knees buckled. Before you could collapse on the floor, Simon was already by your side.

One arm holding you by your knees and another across your shoulder, he carries to the living room. Sitting down and letting you embrace him from his lap. His warmth calmed you down, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Holding on his shoulders, begging him to keep you safe with tears staining his shirt. He shakes his leg, softly cradling you closer to his chest. “I’m here, I’m here. I won’t let you go, okay?” he mutters, turning your head to him and placing a firm kiss on your forehead. “I will keep you safe. This is the last time you’ll be in pain. I’ll protect you from whatever scares you,” he sighs, wiping away your tears as his other hand rubs soothing circles on your shoulders.

You look at him with a broken smile and profound peace, like he's a savior— a god. For the first time in years, you let yourself succumb to sleep without any worries for your safety.

Maybe this is indeed heaven. You would love that— to be in Simon's safe embrace forever, away from the horrors of the world.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: my first ask by anonymous. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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zeroeightzeroone · 5 months

Text

stubborn - han jisung

love collection

genre: angst? hurt? eventual comfort?

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none

wc ~3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"you're not hearing me at all."

you push yourself off the edge of jisung's bed, onto your feet and make your way around the room gathering the things you came with. which isn't much since he keeps some of your things in his dorm. fingers running through your locks; the state of your hair expressing the brewing frustration within you. what was supposed to be a lovely night sleeping over at jisung's turned into the two of you pushing each other's buttons.

you're quick to swing the door open and make your way into the hall but jisung's quick to follow you out.

"baby, come on!" he calls, hot on your tail, "y/n!"

"leave me alone ji!"

jisung sneers, "you wanted me to communicate more! here i am! communicating but you're walking away!"

you stop, spinning around to face the boy so suddenly that your bodies almost collide. there, in the hallway of jisung's dorm, you're standing face to face, chests rapidly heaving from your uneven breathing, the rage radiating off your bodies. feeding off each other's emotions.

"yes. i wanted you to communicate more but," your tone stern as your eyes narrow up at him, "that also meant hearing me when i'm communicating something to you! listening to me–"

"please. i've been listening to you!"

"no you haven't! it's like i'm speaking into a void when i tell you that i miss you, ji! we've been together for six months, but i've barely seen you in the past few months."

"you know how my job is," jisung crosses his arms over his chest.

"i'm not asking for you to be attached at the hip. all I'm asking is to see you more than i do right now."

"my schedule doesn't work that way. i can't always find the time for you."

"you can't? or you don't want to?" you counter with your arms crossed over your chest.

jisung scoffs at your implication, "what are you talking about?"

"you can't make time for me or you don't want to make time for me?" you look into jisung's eyes, "when we first started dating you wou—"

"–my schedules have changed. they're not the same as when we first started dating," jisung reminds you, "it's not that easy."

"you said that before too!" you remind him, with a frown adorning your lips, "you said it wouldn't be easy, i knew that, but–"

"but?"

"but..." your eyelids flutter, harshly gulping down the lump in your throat as you hold back the tears threatening to brew, "do you not want to try? do you not want to see me?"

"you know it's not like that," jisung sighs, voice laced with exasperation.

"then what? what is it like then?" the tears fall anyway.

"you knew what dating me would be like."

you scoff as you roll your eyes, "you can't keep using that defense."

"am i wron–"

you're quick to cut jisung off, "–i knew that my boyfriend being an idol wouldn't be easy, that we wouldn't get the opportunity to see each other as much as we would like–"

"if you knew then," he shrugs, "what's this all about?"

jisung's words come out colder than intended.

"this is about you not even trying to fit me in! you stopped saying 'i'll try', now its always 'i can't'!"

"excuse me? i haven't been trying? how can you say that i haven't been trying?"

"where's the effort then jisung? show me!" angry tears stream down your face, "all our texts show that i'm the one asking when you're free! that i'm checking up on you! i'm the one initiating everything."

"i'm here now, aren't i?" jisung waves his hands up and down, "is that not enough for you?"

"after today i'll probably see you in another couple of weeks, or even more than a month when i'm the one asking you to spend time with me! me! your girlfriend!"

"god, i can't do this right now," jisung runs a hand through his unruly hair, "i've got a ton of work left to do and this conversation is going nowhere."

"fine," you huff.

a few moments pass with neither of you making any moves, staring straight ahead. though you're both in each other's line of sight, your eyes don't meet. avoiding the other's fiery gaze.

your cheeks are flushed, your falling tears soaking the heated skin but you make no effort to swipe them away. your bottom lip is trembling—your whole body feels like it's trembling due to the overwhelming amount of emotion that rush through your veins that very moment. jisung pretty much mirrors you, minus the tears, the way his brows are knit together, slow and heavy breaths leaving his flared nostrils.

with a sigh of defeat, you turn on your heel, then make a beeline for the door. jisung watches you make your way to the front door, not once looking back at him as you swing the door open and shut it behind you.

and not once does he stop you from leaving.

the door shuts and jisung turns around, walking to his room where he flings the door shut behind him and pulls his headphones on. drowning out his surroundings as he tries to steady his breathing.

an hour or two passes and chan walks through the front door, expecting to see your shoes next to jisung's at the door or some other trace of you inside the dorm, but nothing catches his eye. curious, the curly haired boy peeks into jisung's room to see if maybe you'd both gone out but jisung sits there in his computer chair.

the brunette's still got headphones on, no knowledge that his hyung stands in his doorway. right as chan is about to shut the door, his eyes land on a short stack of clothes on top of jisung's dresser: your favourite shirt of jisung's and a pair of jisung's sweatpants. the sight has chan nodding his head as he slowly steps back and closes the door.

even without asking, it's clear something went on between the two of you. the clothes sitting on top of the younger boy's dresser are the same clothes you're given to wear whenever you stay over. they're jisung's clothes but he sets them aside just for you because he knows how much you love them. instead, the clothes are neatly folded and untouched.

on the way to his own room, chan sends changbin and hyunjin a text, letting them know about the current atmosphere of the dorm.

walking in through the front door of your apartment and locking eyes with your roommate, the surprise on her face is apparent. she wasn't expecting you to come home tonight as you said you'd be sleeping at jisung's before leaving. regardless of her surprise, the moment she registers the look on your face, she's rushing over to pull you into a bear hug.

oh, there go the waterworks again.

your trek home from jisung's dorm was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

you would cry, be fine, see the smallest thing and cry once again. you had literally seen a dog across the street and the tears started falling once again.

standing near the front door, you're holding her tight as you cry into her shoulder. she doesn't ask what the cause of your tears are, instead she rubs comforting circles on your back whilst swaying your bodies back and forth. allowing you to let it all out, no questions asked. the look on your face when you walked through the door said enough for her. moments pass until eventually, you feel that you've cried enough.

"thank you," you say with a sniffle, pulling away from her.

she smiles, "i'm here if you want to talk, even if you don't want to talk about it, i'm still here."

...

its been three days since you and jisung have seen each other.

if you were to ask mutual friends of both yours and jisung's to point out the traits you share, other than the both of you being quite introverted. the top would be: stubborn.

were you both aware of how immature you were being, holding out hope that the other one would crack first? yes. of course.

it's just a matter of who is less stubborn and immature between the both of you.

jisung's holed himself up in the company building the past couple of days. most of his time is spent in chan's room or the dance studio (when he feels like moving) as he tries not to think about you.

keyword: tries.

you're all he can think about.

the brunette would be checking his phone to see if maybe you've sent something. jisung had gotten used to you sending him texts throughout the day but the past three days have been radio silent. he finds himself feeling incomplete without your random texts; feeling incomplete without you.

on the other hand, you've caught yourself almost texting or calling jisung first, holding yourself back for the sake of proving a point. albeit, in an immature manner, but a point nonetheless. just like your boyfriend, you're drowning yourself in work but it does nothing to get the boy with the cutest round cheeks out of your head.

three days of radio silence seemed like more than enough, the longing for each other growing as the days pass. jisung misses your random messages about anything and everything, and you miss his random selfies throughout the day.

you miss each other.

eventually, instead of the both of you being too hard-headed to admit defeat and initiate a conversation; the delay comes with the fact that neither of you know where or how to start.

you and jisung have argued before, of course. it would be unnatural for no conflicts to have come up in six months of your relationship. however, it has never gone this far.

with a deep breath, jisung raises his fist to knock at the door.

"hyung?"

from inside the room, chan hums. turning around in his chair as he calls for jisung to come inside. the door opens slowly, revealing jisung clad in sweats and a hoodie, sheepishly walking into chan's bedroom and taking a seat on the mattress.

"what's up?"

chan knows what's up. it's been quite obvious that something has been up with you and jisung for the past couple of days.

"i need some adv—... help. i need some help," jisung glances up at chan and back down, receiving another hummed reply from the older boy, "i fucked up."

jisung takes a deep breath, fingers toying at his sleeves.

"something happened between you and y/n, yeah?"

jisung nods as chan leans back in his computer chair. with that, jisung begins rambling about the argument you two had while chan listens intently, mentally noting down points he believes to be significant. as jisung retells the exchange, he's reminded of the way you looked at him, the things you said to him and how he responded back to you.

"i.. uh.. i don't know what to do," jisung's hands brush through his hair, elbows on his knees as he leans his weight forward, "i don't know where to start."

meanwhile, a floor down and a couple hours later, seungmin sits in the living room of his dorm on the phone with you. on your end, his voice comes through your phone speakers, filling your room.

"first of all, you two need to speak to each other."

"ok—"

"—i'm not done," seungmin hushes you, "how jisung managed to find someone as stubborn as he is, is beyond me but you're both stubborn as hell."

"... gee, thanks."

"you're welcome. you know it's true," even though he can't see you, you can't help but shrug with a small nod, agreeing with seungmin's statement. he continues, "but think about it like this. one reason you fought was because he wasn't prioritizing your relationship, right?"

"yeah?"

"what about right now?"

"huh?"

"is the priority right now to be as hard-headed as possible to prove a point or…" seungmin drags out the last word, "is it your relationship with jisung?"

"my relationship."

...

"well, someone's up early," your roommate gasps when you walk into the kitchen.

you're fully dressed for the day, ready to go outside. usually this early in the morning you're still asleep, choosing to wake up right on time for work instead of earlier than needed.

"i thought you had a day off?" she muses, bringing the mug up to her lips and taking a sip of her coffee.

even before you entered the kitchen area, you could smell the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, filling the air the moment you walked out of your bedroom.

"i do," you nod, going to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, not really in the mood for coffee.

"where ya' going?"

"i'm gonna go to the dorms," you turn around and lean against the counter, "talk to ji."

"woke up early to avoid the morning rush?" the soft smile on your face paired with the sigh says enough, "how are you feeling?"

you shrug, "a bit nervous... but i'm always nervous going into serious conversations."

she chuckles, "oh yeah. i remember the conversation we had when you wanted to be a potential roommate."

the memory has your cheeks flushing, throwing your head back in embarrassment. to this day, you don't know how she chose you instead of the other, non-embarrassing, applicants. right before your roommate leaves for work, you're exchanging a quick hug and then she's out the door.

the longer you sit alone in the kitchen, stewing in your own thoughts, deliberating over the plan you've repeated in your head a million times; the more your anxiety heightens. prompting you to close your eyes before it can spill over the brim. you take a deep breath, trying to focus on your heartbeat.

the sudden knock at the door has your heart jump, the noise startling you.

you glance out the kitchen doorway, spotting your roommate's house keys hanging on the rack next to the front door. shaking your head, you walk towards the front, unhooking her keys whilst you turn the knob with your other hand.

she's always been quite forgetful.

with an amused smile on your face, you pry the door open.

"no wonder i didn't hear your keys when you left—"

you gulp, heart flipping in your chest.

its not your roommate.

the words are caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing in front of you.

han jisung's here, inside your apartment complex and right outside your front door. the hood of his brown jacket is pulled over his beanie-clad head, and the bottom half of his face is covered by a mask but the nervousness is obvious as he awkwardly shifts his weight on his feet, eyes flickering around.

"can i come in?" he asks with a soft voice.

you nod, stepping aside, giving jisung the space to walk through the front door then shutting it behind him. he discards his shoes at the door, before you're walking in front of him, leading you both into the living area. the two of you take a seat on the couch, a couple inches of space between your bodies. awkward silence lingering in the air, neither of you knowing who should speak first.

jisung clears his throat and decides to take the leap.

his hands reach up to remove the mask and hood, "where.. uh.. were you going somewhere?"

referring to the denim jeans and hoodie you've got on. his hoodie.

"i was going… to see you."

jisung angles his body in your direction, blinking a couple of times as your gaze flickers towards him.

"... you were going to see me?" you nod, "but.. why?"

now you're turning to him, brows knit in confusion. what does he mean why?

"so we could talk about… you know..."

jisung is mentally smacking himself, "no-no, i know that but you shouldn't be the one going over there.. it should be me coming to you. to talk to you, to apologize to you."

"but i have things to apologize for too…" your hands play with the ends of the hoodie you're wearing, "i... i'm sorry that i made it seem like you don't put anything into our relationship. i hurt you by saying you aren't trying. i know you do, i know its hard with your schedule and all... i—"

jisung shakes his head, scooting closer, taking your hands in his own. the mere feeling of his hands on yours has your heart skipping a beat, your skin tingling under his touch.

"honestly, i was hurt hearing you say i haven't been trying, putting in any effort," the pads of his thumbs gently caress your skin, "it's embarrassing to admit... but it did hurt my ego."

jisung's chocolate brown iris' swim with guilt and sadness.

both emotions stem from his inadequacy as a boyfriend recently; hurting the person he cares the most about. its true that you don't realize what you've lost until it's gone, and he had a taste of it for the past three days. he doesn't want to be without you, never again.

"i didn't see the mistakes i'd made, the ways i hurt you. instead, i hurt you more in that conversation, didn't i?"

the way your lips press into a straight line is enough of an answer for him.

"i'm sorry," jisung squeezes your hands gently, "i'm sorry for not putting more effort into our relationship."

"you are—"

"no, i'm not," he shakes his head, "if i was then it it wouldn't have been brought up, and we wouldn't have had that fight."

"... mhmm."

"i kept saying you knew what you were getting into dating me," a bitter laugh slips from his lips at the memory, "but i also knew what getting into a relationship. god, i fucked up."

your stomach turns and your brain starts to scatter. overthinking about what jisung could say next, hypothesizing the worst-case scenarios.

"i knew that it wasn't going to be easy... that dating me is going to be a lot harder than it would be if you dated... someone else– someone that isn't a celebrity," his fingers fiddle with your own, "you knew all of that and still said yes to me, you still chose me?"

"of course, because i want you. no one else."

jisung's cheeks get rounder as his toothy smile widens at your words. he blinks quickly, snapping himself out of his quick daze and continues.

"i haven't been the best boyfriend lately, i know that..." his brown eyes lock with your own, "i'm sorry for how i hurt you that day... even leading up to that... i know i wasn't putting in that effort and there's no excuse for that, honestly. i haven't been fair to you."

"its okay."

"its not, don't say that, baby," jisung sighs, "i know i fucked up but i'll make it up to you. i promise! i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, i'll work harder on us... i'll find a... what is it? b-balance! balance! i'll work on communicating more... j-just be patient with me? i know you already are but—"

"—you're rambling," you cut him off, knowing if you didn't he'd just continue to talk in circles.

it's adorable, it's endearing.

but you take this opportunity to apologize in return, "i'm sorry too. i'm know i hurt you too that day. i could've found a better way to bring it up to you, talk to you about it but i didn't and i'm so sorry. i need to work on that, i need to work on a lot of things but… we'll work on us, together. it'll be hard but-"

"as long as we're together."

you nod, repeating his words, "as long as we're together."

jisung's hands move up to cup your cheeks, caressing the skin gently as your own hands are circled around his wrists. leaning in, he places a kiss onto your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. his chocolate brown eyes graze over your face with a delighted look, taking the time to memorize your features all over again, etching them into his brain as if it was the first time all over again.

starting with your eyes. your stunning eyes that bore into his own, jisung finds himself entranced by them and the way they sparkle when you're talking about your passions, the things you love. your eyes that smile whenever you laugh at his stupid jokes.

your nose, which you've repeatedly expressed your dissatisfaction with, but jisung find absolutely adorable. the way your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when you're playfully glaring at him.

your lips. your plush, baby pink lips that jisung would kiss all day if he could, especially when you're in a pouty mood. the way your bottom lip juts out makes his heart flip. sometimes he finds himself staring at your lips, allured by the way they move as you speak.

you. you're absolutely breathtaking, beautiful. the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on. the most beautiful being, inside and out that he will ever lay eyes on. he's convinced that nothing else, that no one else will captivate him, entrance him, amaze him the way that you do. the way only you do. its you, only you.

"i love you."

the three words, eight letters leave jisung's lips for the first time, directed to you, dedicated to you and you feel like you're levitating. the words, paired with the melodic vocal tone of the man sitting across from you has you breathless, the sound is intoxicating. you're addicted, so high and elated that for a moment, you wonder if you heard right.

"you..?" you're speechless.

jisung's face beams with happiness, his eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes at the sight of your own eyes that currently resemble a lost puppy; large, round and beaming up at him.

"it was like a part of me was missing over the past three days. the past three days i didn't have you, three days without you... three days where i got the taste of what life would be like if i lost you. you, y/n, are my heart," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "i can't— i don't want to imagine a life without you, it would only be incomplete. i love you…"

jisung pauses, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to bite back his smile.

"fuck… i'm so in love with you."

"han jisung," you press a kiss to his lips with a hum before pulling away ever so slightly. lips brushing against his as you speak, "i'm so in love with you. it's crazy."

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lowkeyerror · 1 month

Text

The Family Business Ch.7

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Ch. Notes: Angst, Violence, Emotional, translations: Moye ditya= my child moye serdtse= my heart

Summary: Y/n, Wanda, and Pietro are forced to prepare for the worst after learning of the one on one meeting Dragos has set up with Kingpin.

An: Hey 🫣, Please don't be mad. It feels wrong to say I hope you enjoy this one but... I hope we can recover from this together 💜

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The sound of your office door slamming was enough to startle some of the other employees working. You were relatively good at keeping your cool, but your skin felt like it was on fire. Your fists keep clenching and unclenching, trying to find some outlet for the anger.

Pietro and Wanda watch carefully from outside your door as you try to subdue your anger. Wanda wants to go in and comfort you, but Pietro stops her.

“She doesn’t need you to go in there and coddle her,” he speaks to his sister.

“Well, I’m not planning to just watch her like this,” Wanda tries again, but Pietro’s grip on her becomes firmer.

“Wanda she’s not the same- “

Wanda cuts him off, “Y/n told me, that anything I want to know about her can come directly from her. So, if you want to stand out here and watch her suffer, that’s on you. However, I’m checking on our friend.”

Wanda softly raps on the door before entering your office. You don’t move, it’s like she’s not even there. Not until she’s kneeling on the floor next to you. Her hand rests gently on your knee.

“Talk to me little krolik,” it’s soft, merely a suggestion. Wanda is content with the silence, but she wanted to give you the option to talk.

“Wanda she’s not in the mood to-”

Pietro is cut off, by your eyes locking on his. The gaze is harsh enough to shut him up immediately. Even though tears are building behind your eyes, anger seems to be the primary emotion coursing through your body.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” you speak not looking at either sibling. “It’s reckless, it’s careless, it’s naïve. Why would he put himself in danger like this? Does he not know that we need him?”

“Papa is doing what he thinks is best to avoid war,” Pietro states, though he barely believes his own words.

“Or he’s giving Kingpin the opportunity to start it with a bang,” you counter.

Wanda takes a sharp breath, “All we can do is prepare for the worst.”

“Wanda, you don’t think that papa will be, okay?” There’s something in Pietro’s tone that sounds fragile. He sounds like a scared little boy. You had almost forgotten that he could sound that way.

“We all think he’s making a mistake. There will be consequences and fallout regardless of the outcome. Papa seems to think he’s preventing a war, but the true war has already started. Kingpin is flipping our associates, encroaching on our properties, and trying to make us a non-factor. The war is here. If he does anything stupid during this meeting, we could end up without a leader.”

“Vulnerable to attacks, we could lose everything,” you add, rubbing your temples.

“What are we going to do?”

Your hand absent-mindedly finds Wanda’s that rests on your knee. You play with her digits as you speak, “If anything happens to Dragos we can’t afford to fall back or lay low. Kingpin and everyone else will assume we are weak and that would be the end of us. We’d have to make a power play, something to show that we are and always will be on top.”

Wanda takes in your features as you speak. Your eyes are hard, and your jaws clenched. There’s a vein along your neck that’s pulsing with your words. As tense as you look, there’s something so calm around you. The hand that’s playing with Wanda’s fingers moves delicately across her knuckles, a complete contrast to the rest of your body language. Wanda thinks you look like a leader.

“We can make an example out of someone?” Pietro hypothesizes.

Wanda adds in her thoughts, “Or something.”

“The docks. We’re getting out shipments primarily through planes and trains, but everyone else uses the docks,” you begin to explain.

“If we target the docks, which means people would have no choice but to come through us for their goods,” Wanda finishes your thoughts.

Pietro is in disbelief, “You guys want to blow up the docks?”

“We could blow them up or we could just make them unable to be used,” Wanda offers a different option.

“Oil spill; stopped the ports for months in California a few years back. No materials could be sent through and the stuff at the docks had to be thrown out because of contamination,” you try to suggest, but it sounds like you made up your mind.

Wanda nods, “I could send Natasha some resources and she could make this concrete enough to put into motion.”

“She’d need to have this ready in potentially 2 to 3 days. If something happens at that meeting, we will need to have this ready quickly.” You begin typing on your computer, to see if you can locate any ships transporting oil passing through in the next few days.

“What can I do?” Pietro asks.

“You need to support Natasha. Wanda’s going to be sending her a lot of information and if you’re there to go over the nuisances it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

“I can head over now,” he says, and you give him a curt nod. He leaves the room once again leaving just you and Wanda.

Wanda breaks the silence, “You’re a natural leader, little krolik.”

You blush at her words and shake your head, “I’m just trying to make sure this empire that your family built doesn’t fall apart. It’s the least I could do after all that you’ve done for me.”

“Our family; you are a part of it,” Wanda corrects you.

“Flora and Dragos are the parents that mine couldn’t be. I know they’re your actual parents and that maybe it's selfish of me to worry, but if anything were to happen to either of them; I don’t know what I’d do,” your hands shoot up to cover your eyes.

You don’t want your tears to fall in front of her. Wanda had seen you cry a lot when you were younger, softer, but this version of yourself; she didn’t cry. She was supposed to be able to hold her emotions. However, the thought of losing the man that had given her everything in this world, was terrifying to her.

Wanda is gentle as she runs a hand through your hair, “It’s a scary thought, losing mama or papa. I’ve thought about it a lot, and it never becomes less scary. The only thing that helps is that I know I won’t have to feel this way on my own.”

“I hate that we have to talk about him like he’s already dead,” your hands stay over your eyes.

“Me too.”

Wanda’s hand in your hair is the only thing keeping you from breaking down. The speaker in your office breaks the building silence.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Maximoff has just left,” you hear Kate’s voice announce.

“Thanks for letting me know Katie,” you answer her, as you feel the gravity of the situation set in.

“Y/n… there’s a car in the parking garage with his destination programmed into the GPS,” Kate gives you the information and your ears perk up.

“Kate, did you-”

“Perks of setting up a meeting is knowing exactly where it is. If you go now, you can tail him at a respectable distance just to make sure he’s safe.”

You waste no time getting out of your seat, “God Katie, you’re the best.”

“Anything for you Y/nn and anything for the family of course.”

With Pietro already out of the office, it would be just Wanda and yourself tailing Dragos. When you got to the car Kate had ready for you, Wanda offers to drive. You let her and take the passenger seat quickly texting Pietro the location of the meeting but telling him to stay put unless you message him again.

Your leg bounces recklessly as Wanda drives. The nerves you worked hard to tame seem to be back in full force. The ride feels uncharacteristically quiet, but there isn’t much to say.

“So, you and Kate?” Wanda breaks the silence.

If you weren’t so stressed maybe you’d laugh, “You sound just like your wife. Kate is just my friend, that’s all.”

“I’m just curious. You’ve grown into quite the young women, I’m sure you’ve had a long line of lovers,” Wanda speaks nonchalantly.

You can feel your ears heat at her comment, “I’ve been on some dates, but they don’t usually stick around.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise as she keeps eye focus on the road, “My little krolik is a player then?”

You sputter, “I am not.”

“It sounds to me like you go on few dates, get what you want, and move on to the next,” Wanda’s eyes cut briefly to you.

“You need to stop getting information about me from Pietro, he’s delusional,” you shake your head, face nearly red with embarrassment.

“Then enlighten me.”

You sigh, “I go on the date, it’s just fine, and then I go another date. It’s just that simple.”

“You sound rather unhappy with that.”

You shrug, “This line of work, it’s dangerous. Anything can happen to me, and I have to date someone that I think could handle that. If I don’t think they can, then dating them would be a waste of both of our time. Not all of us can find a hot Russian spy.”

Wanda’s hand rests on your knee, “I suppose not, but I know there’s someone out there for you. You’ve always been a catch Y/n, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

It was easier to run with the narrative that there were other fish in the sea when Wanda wasn’t around. Having her back here was stirring up emotions inside of you. You thought that your liking to Wanda was simply teenage hormones, but you aren’t a teenager anymore. It’s been two days of having Wanda back and you can feel your feelings for her returning in full force.

“Less on my love life, and more on protecting Dragos,” you refocus on the task at hand.

When you’re close to the location, you recognize it as an abandoned construction site. You can see two other cars parked side by side further ahead.

“Park there,” you point out a secluded area where the car won’t be spotted.

Wanda does as you say. As soon as the car stops, you’re exiting it. In your heart you want to run to search for Dragos, but professionally you know that’s not the call.

You and Wanda walk cautiously though the site, the sand around made the walking a more difficult than solid concrete.

You went to take a step, but Wanda’s hand on your shoulder pulls you down into a crouching position. Following her line of sight, you see Dragos and Kingpin talking. You can’t necessarily hear them, but you can tell it’s not a pleasant conversation.

You look around hoping to find a spot close enough to hear, but not close enough to draw attention to yourself. Before you can find anything, Wanda’s hand slips in yours and she’s tugging you along.

She finds a spot with the criteria you were looking for. You two can now hear the conversation between the two men.

“Wilson, I’m telling you, you don’t want this war,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

“Why not, Maximoff? I ain’t got nothing to lose, but I’ve got everything to gain,” his laugh makes your hand twitch.

You could pull out your gun right now and shoot Fisk in the head. Your hand goes to grab your gun, but Wanda stops you. She’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are scanning around, to make sure you are the only other people here.

“Fisk, I will put you down if you step out of line again.”

“With what army old man? I’ve been taking your allies and gathering your enemies. Step down gracefully and maybe I’ll let you keep some of your business,” Fisk takes a step towards Dragos.

“You’re not taking the empire that I built.”

He sticks out his pinky, showing off his big ring, “It’s time to kiss the ring, Maximoff. It’s time for the kingpin to take his rightful spot at the head of the table.”

“Over my dead body,” Dragos doesn’t back down.

“I knew you would say something like that.”

It happens fast. The gun goes off and instinctively your hand goes over Wanda’s mouth. The cry that was leaving her lips died in it’s spot. Fisk aims his gun again at Dragos’s head but before he can pull the trigger, your other hand starts to shoot at him.

Your hands are shaking, but the shots are enough to cause Kingpin to run away.

“Call the police, go check on him. I’m chasing the bastard,” you don’t give her a chance to protest.

By the time you get back to where the cars were parked, Kingpin’s car is gone. You can’t help it but slam your fist against the nearest pole. You run back to where Wanda is.

Once your next to Wanda and Dragos you take a knee. The man is struggling to breathe with a bullet lodged into his sternum. Wanda shakes as she runs her fingers through his hair and tells him he will be ok.

You’re trying to stay strong, but the tears have already begun to fall. Dragos hand reaches for yours and you let him take it. His grip is weak, and it causes you to lose your composure.

“Papa, I’m sorry- I should’ve shot faster,” you speak what could possibly be your last words to the man who had given you a better life.

He looks at Wanda and then at you. It’s mangled, but he says, “T-take care o-of each other."

“Papa these are not your final words, stop acting like they are. The paramedics are coming, you are going to leave. You have to live,” Wanda snaps at the man.

“You’re m-mother will ne-ver forgive me f-for this,” he wheezes.

“As long as you're breathing, she will forgive you,” you respond.

He laughs but ends up coughing up his own blood. Dragos squeezes your hand, “I’m proud- of both of y-you. Wanda, moye serdtse I- have always believed in y-you. Y/n, moye ditya, I loved b-being your Papa.”

You see his eyes fluttering and you make eye contact with Wanda, “How long did they say Wanda?”

“30 minutes.”

You shake you head, “That’s not fast enough. We have to go now.”

“Y/n-"

“We don’t have time to argue, Wanda. Help me lift him,” you say steeling your nerves.

“Y/n we-”

“HELP ME LIFT HIM.” You weren’t asking anymore.

You start to lift the older man hearing him groan slightly. It’s a good sign, he’s still living. Wanda helps reluctantly. Once you’re at the car, you’re sweating, but you keep moving. You lay him across the back seat.

“You stay in the back with him,” you tell Wanda, getting in the driver’s seat.

As soon as she’s in the car you step on the gas. It’s something akin to the high-speed chase but the stakes are higher. You swerve through traffic and backstreets as much as you can. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins. All you could think about was saving Dragos.

“Wanda, how is he?” You call back to her knowing you had about 5 minutes until the hospital.

“His breaths are shallow Y/n. His eyes are closing,” she updates you with a shaky voice.

“Papa, Wanda’s going to squeeze your hand, squeeze back if you can. Keep squeezing until we get you there,” Your voice is raised but you aren’t yelling.

Wanda puts her hand in her father’s. He squeezes it gently, the pressure is weak, but it’s there.

You continue to swerve around traffic but each minute his grasp grows weaker. You pull into the emergency parking section at the hospital and start to scream for help.

People start to crowd around your car, and everything seems like it’s moving too fast. People are getting Dragos from your car. Wanda is in hysterics as it seems like dozens of people start wheeling her father away. You sit at the wheel of the car unable to move, unable to think.

You make the calls, so Wanda doesn’t have to. It doesn’t take long for the family to get to the hospital. They’re all wrecks. The Maximoff’s all have identical puffy red eyes as they hope to hear something from the doctor.

“You aren’t going to sit with them,” It’s Natasha who takes a seat next to you.

You shake your head, “I can’t, not right now. They need their space.”

“You’ve shed just as many tears as them lisichka,” Natasha cautiously brings her finger to your face wiping a stray tear.

“You should be comforting your wife, not me,” you say to her.

“She’s not the one sitting away from her family mourning alone when it isn’t necessary,” Natasha stands and extends her hand to you.

For awhile you just stare, but she’s unrelenting. You sigh taking her hand, it’s not soft like you expected it to be. It’s a little rough and warm, but it brings you comfort all the same.

Natasha sits next to Wanda, and you take a seat next to Pietro. Instantly his arm wraps around your shoulder pulling you close. The action breaks you as you bury your head into his chest and begin to silently sob.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and rubs your back. It makes you feel like a kid again. It had been so long since you needed something like this. The adrenaline was wearing off and all you were left with was an empty feeling.

You start to mumble that you’re sorry against your friend as your body softly shakes.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” Flora calls to you from her seat next to Pietro.

You do as she says, “This isn't your fault. There's nothing you could've done.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the woman gives you a stern look. It quiets you, but you continue to feel guilty.

“Stop thinking so much. We don't know anything until the doctors tell us,” You wipe your tears at her words.

“Yes, mama,” you say it without realizing and when you do, your face heats up.

Flora opens her arms for you, and you switch from Pietro to her. Her hug is warm and strong. She wipes the tears from your face and looks at you with caring eyes.

“Everything will be ok moye ditya,” her words bring you great comfort.

“Family of Dragos Maximoff,” the doctor calls out and you all stand swiftly.

This is the moment of truth. You pray that you acted fast enough; that he would be ok. The somber look on the doctor’s face crushes those dreams instantly.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat #pietro maximoff

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wheredafandomat · 1 month

Text

I’ll stay

Divorced dad! Loki x female reader

18+ | contains smut, angst - Loki and reader are divorced and share a child

“Okay, okay, I’m coming now, alright, bye” you sighed as you hung up the phone, daring a glance into the restaurant at your date, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs as he waited for you to come back inside. Another sigh escaped you as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Tired eyes were hidden behind layers of mascara and eyeshadow. Your frown masked by the rouge tint you had haplessly rubbed onto your lips. Your eyes wandered down to your dress. You looked good overall, there was no denying that. You ran your hands down your sides, taking a deep breath before plastering on a smile and heading back inside.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” He asked, trying to hide his elation at the fact you had returned until he saw you reaching for the jacket you had draped behind your chair when you first arrived.

“I’m so sorry but I’ve got to go, it’s an emergency” you apologised earnestly “it’s Sienna, she’s not feeling well and she’s asking for me” you explained, putting your jacket on.

“Isn’t she with her dad?”

“Yes” you nodded “but—”

“So she’s fine, have another glass of wine” he insisted, gesturing to the chair you just tucked in.

“I can’t, I—” you tried to excuse “I’ll call you okay” you rushed out, turning around before heading out of the restaurant and hailing a taxi.

“She’s sleeping now” Loki spoke, opening the door as you stepped inside.

“So why did you call me?” You huffed as you entered, Loki closing the door behind you as you breathed in through your nose smelling that familiar aftershave.

“I was unsure if she’d settle without your presence. Besides, I didn’t know it’d take you so long to arrive” Loki added almost bitterly as he took you in.

“I was on the other side of the city” you shrugged “I was on a date” you admitted, surprising even yourself at the confession.

“Oh, I see” Loki spoke, almost dejectedly as he looked away from you. “How was it?” He decided to ask, looking back up at you.

“Short” you stated, ignoring the pang of what could only be stupidly described as guilt that evaded you.

“My apologies” Loki replied, glancing away before his eyes met yours again. “You look” he paused “good”

“Thank y—” you began.

“You always look good” he seemingly huffed to himself at the thoughtless compliment. “You look beautiful y/n” he interrupted.

“Thank you” you smiled chastely as a conspicuous pause filled the space between you both. Doting eyes boared into yours as you swallowed thickly, unable to tear your gaze away from Loki’s. His stare was primal, lustful, almost charged as you took a sharp breath, trying to forget the fact that you hadn’t been laid in almost a year and that Loki had that familiar aftershave on.

“Don’t look at me like that” you finally broke the silence.

“Like what?” He almost smirked.

“Loki you love me” you frowned.

“Y/n” Loki halted “I adore you” he expressed.

“Stop” you shook your head, willing the tears that were now brimming in your eyes to stop. You didn’t know whether they were from your lack of blinking after staring at him or the emotions coursing through you.

“I’m truly enamored” he continued to your chagrin as he stepped towards you “you bewitch me. You—”

“Stop!” You raised your voice.

“I can’t let you go y/n, why can’t I quit you?”

“You already have Loki, you let me go the moment you—”

“Tell me you don’t love me” he dared.

“Loki I—” you stopped, your lip beginning to quiver as a tear escaped you.

“Tell me you don’t love me” he murmured, kissing the tear away from your cheek “and I’ll stop.”

Your knees felt weak beneath you as his lips met the bare skin of your neck as he pushed your jacket off of your shoulders. Tender kisses met behind your ear as you held your breath, eyes falling closed. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore y/n” he whispered, kissing your earlobe “please” he almost begged, unable to restrain himself, the only thing able to stop him being your words.

“I-I” you stuttered, melting against Loki as his lips met yours.

You were quick to deepen the kiss, your tongue moving against his as his arms wrapped around you. He felt perfect against you. You barely broke for breath, kissing him passionately as you pushed him back against the couch, Loki pulling you down with him. You straddled him, hips moving to and fro above him as your body ached for more. You could feel him hardening beneath you as you practically ripped his shirt off of him, your lips meeting the warmth of his skin. You ran your hands across his torso, your nails lightly scratching him as you kissed his neck, moving lower. You moved down the couch, almost hanging off of it as your fingers undone his belt.

“Slow down” Loki jested as you kissed across his lower abdomen, pulling his boxers down.

“Shut up” you snapped, freeing his erection as Loki’s eyes fell closed.

“Fuckk” he exhaled, relaxing as you kissed the tip before taking it into your mouth. Your hand moved across his length in light strokes as you flicked your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a quiet moan from him. His hand found the back of your head, guiding your movements gently as he hit the back of your throat. You continued, your head moving up and down before Loki tried to push you away. He was close.

Wordlessly, you straddled him again, lifting your dress as Loki pushed your panties to the side, helping you lower yourself against him.

“Lokiii” you mewled as he filled you to the hilt, his cock throbbing against your walls.

“Just like that” Loki spoke through gritted teeth, thrusting up inside of you as you bounced above him.

“Fuckk” you moaned, trying to stay quiet as he fucked you.

“Taking me so well” he praised, looking up at you through hooded eyes “good girl, that’s my good fucking girl.”

“Ughh, I—I’m soo—” you moaned.

“I know, I know” Loki rasped, jaw clenched as he continued thrusting.

Your eyes met. You had to look away.

“I’m gonna cum” you cried, eyes closed tightly as your breaths grew heavier.

“Fuck!” Loki hollered, his orgasm hitting him as he came inside of you, his seed oozing out as your walls tightened around him.

As you floated down from your high, you eventually looked down at Loki.

“I don’t, Loki” you shook your head, Loki’s eyes pleading for you not to continue. “I don’t love you, not now, not anymore.” You sniffled, unsure whether or not you believed yourself.

“You’ll stay? Tonight?” Loki asked, voice quiet.

“Yeah” you nodded “I’ll stay.”

<<it’s been a while since I’ve written << and a boy called me good girl the other day << I hope you enjoyed!!

Tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @asgards-princess-of-mischief @anundyingfidelity @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki au fic #loki au #loki oneshot #loki smut oneshot #loki x you smut #dad loki

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anantaru · 1 year

Note

Hellooooooo

I was wondering how would Alhaitham and Ayato would react to hearing the safe word in the middle of the act? Like they pushed reader's limits, they seem to be pretty rough and demanding in bed and that's kinda scary sometimes

cw. after saying the safe word, a lil angst, fem! reader, heavily comforting you

ayato, who would— and such goes in the generality of standings, without stating, express leaden depicted signs of embodied guiltiness for turning you, his darling, he devotedly treasured, this uncomfortable and hurting during an endearing time where he should've coddled you with a sundry of effusive pleasure.

conceivably, ayato might've fell in to be inordinately rough tonight as he was severely frustrated from his own bottled up emotions— one of the leading factors being the tracked down obvious that he hasn't seen you nor spend sufficient time with you in what felt like plentiful years.

his troubled breath was stranded immovable in his glued down throat upon listening to you suddenly cry out the safe word he was sure would never be used by any of you— to proceed, ayato had directly pulled out of you, the touch cautious, as controlled as possible as to not dispense any more damage before really saying anything, he can barely marge his eyes on you and it broke his heart that he was the reason you experienced pain— when he should've loyally lavaged you with nothing but pure comfort.

supplementary he puts forth your name in a tottery declare and then staggers through his frazzled breathing, "are you okay, please— please take your time." ayato eases himself back into this pivotal situation, but he will not touch you, he keeps his hands away from you. "i apologize with my entire heart— i did not mean for this to happen." as to bring grave attention in his sentence, he closely whispers an inch lower, soothingly, "i am so so sorry."

ayato will wait a fair enough of much required time, additionally giving you copious reasonable space before you, yourself, have allowed him to come close again. His glimmering eyes fall to your bare, trembling body as to calmly throw a silky blanket at your naked frame to have you a sprinkle more shielded and protected as well as have your body heat rise up again.

while you aided him to lean back into your arms, ayato breaks apart from within, bit by bit, his body was stilling and sheened of cold sweat, but it's about patience now— and he knows, he has to keep a clear head as always, he mustn't let his emotions run free.

"it's okay ayato." you close your arms around his neck and it almost brings him to tears— such spoken tears that he originally severed off himself earlier, the same way he had done so his whole life.

"it is not, i should've known better."

family was everything to ayato and you were a part of his. On this ending night he had done nothing more than to spoil you and apologize a handful more times, you let his warm palms seep into your gladdened skin and your eyes flutter close of the heavy tiredness— you realize he was warm but his breathing sounded patched together, even though he tried to hide it endlessly.

alhaitham, whose flexed up muscles loosened up the immediate wounded second of your excruciating voice thickly closing around his ear shells. This uncomfortable weight on his chest, or the penetrating shock in his eyes, he was aware that he unarguably went overboard this night, for certain, and promptly backed off your tremulous body without accidentally creating added problems.

with how he had been largely shadowing over yourself, he could easily perceive the state of your low lidded eyes— your vision had turned entirely blurry which was the straight up cause of warm tears simmering from each twist of your eyes.

"do not rush yourself." not at all did alhaitham appear as confident and collected as he usually was, "i apologize - i apologize, i don't know what—" your hard processed breaths overwhelmingly shook at each explosive word of him, it was demanding for you to state something, taxing on your emotions while at the same time cloaking back your cried which he had fortunately discerned himself, then stopping in midst his own sentencing, yet cursing himself.

it's not as if alhaitham doesn't want to do anything, all he craved for was to enclose his large arms around yourself and apologize once more— though he does nothing, not for now at least, he waits until you do something instead, after all, crossing your boundaries again would be the last thing he had in mind.

"can you-" he noiselessly jolts back when detecting your broken voice in the dim room, you mutely wrap your hand around his wrist, "can you please .." and he knows what you meant, in the wake of it, it wasn't back breaking to see through your quavery ways of stating.

he crumbles next to your body and closes his arm around your waist, your eyes were swelled up and with one gentle palm he shushed away the wetness on your cheeks, but remained careful in his proceedings.

"i'm sorry." you shake your head at his strangled heaves, applying yourself up forward into his chest, "it's okay." - "i know you would never hurt me on purpose."

but even with your presented reassurance, his heart burned, he huffs his warm breath on your forehead and presses his lips on your head, his hands in process of moving unsure on where to wavelessly rest themselves on. "it will never happen again."

he recollects himself, his words holding all meaningful purpose behind them, "i know." you smoother yourself further into him, systematically calming down more and feeling yourself back into his body.

"you're everything."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #alhaitham smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines

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bradshawsvinyl · 2 months

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Tolerate It

Things had been off with Jake recently. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Or so you thought.

read part two here.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, jake is a jerk, reader has anxiety but not explicitly stated, gaslighting??

Jake had been off recently. You couldn’t exactly place your finger on what was wrong but he had been acting differently. The longing glances you used to share seemed to become shorter each passing day. The eyes that once looked at you with love and trust had slowly started to fade until there was nothing left.

At first, you thought he had just been busy with work. After all, he was one of the best pilots in the Navy. You thought it was just another bump on the road that was your relationship. You figured he’d tell you what was upsetting him and you guys would be able to go through it and move on together.

“Jake,” you said while knocking on the door to your shared bedroom. “Please talk to me.”

He had come home from work and seemingly blown off all your attempts at affection. He just went straight upstairs to your bedroom and began talking on the phone.

That was another thing. Jake had been using his phone a lot more recently. He had tried to hide it and use it at times when he thought you were sleeping or were too busy to notice but you had been paying attention.

A part of you wanted to believe that Jake wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You had known him for years. You had been together since high school. You followed him all over the country. You waited for him when he was deployed. You thought that he would do everything in his power to protect your emotions.

The rational part of you knew that he had to be hiding something. Your relationship had seemingly gone in limbo. You felt like you were trying and giving your all while Jake was giving you nothing back. You were tired of feeling like a burden. You needed reassurance. All you wanted was for him to tell you what was going on.

“Jake,” you knocked again. “Please open the door.” You were on the verge of tears. You just wanted to talk to him. You just wanted him to look you in the eyes and tell you that everything was okay. You wanted to hear him say “I love you.” Finally, the door opened.

“What is your problem,” he said, voice laced with anger.

“My problem? You’re seriously asking what my problem is.” You spat back at him. “My problem is you don’t talk to me anymore. There’s something off about you recently. You’ve been acting differently.”

Jake just stared at you and then walked downstairs.

“Where are you going,” you asked while running after him.

“Out.” He replied.

“What do you mean you’re going out? Jake just talk to me please it doesn’t have to be like this. I love you.” You said as tears started welling up in your eyes.

“I’ll be back.” He replied coldly. “I just need some space.” With that he slipped on his shoes and slammed the door to your shared home.

You went upstairs to your bedroom with the intention to just go to sleep. He’d talk to you when he was ready. Maybe something had happened in training today. That had to be the reason he was acting so cold.

As you settled into the bed, you noticed a vibration. You quickly realized Jake had left his phone at home.

You looked at the screen and saw that he was receiving a call from your friend, Juliana. No no no no no no. You thought to yourself as the tears began again. This couldn’t be true. Of course, you had your suspicions but you thought you were being silly. Jake wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Or would he?

Why would he need to be talking to Juliana. She was your friend after all. They had only met briefly a few times. They had barely exchanged two words. You wanted to believe that there was nothing wrong with the interaction. Maybe they were trying to get to know each other better, for your sake.

You walked downstairs and started pacing the living room, waiting for Jake’s arrival. You had to get to the bottom of this. Maybe Juliana was helping him out with something. You thought. Or maybe this was who he had been sharing all these secret phone calls with. Maybe this is who he was referencing everytime he said training had run late or he was going out.

How could you be so naive? There had to be an explanation for this. Jake was the love of your life. He was your first everything. He wouldn’t betray your trust like this. He wouldn’t be seeing another woman. Let alone your friend. Or would he?

#hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun x you #my wrtitng #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman imagine #hangman x oc #hangman imagine #hangman angst #top gun hangman #jake seresin #glen powell #glen powell x reader

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ilikebooksmoviesseriesandanime · 2 years

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They are each other's...

Happiest smiles

Painful Heartbreak

Loneliest Nights

And...

Greatest What if

#grindeldore #secrets of dumbledore #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #albus x gellert #fantastic beasts #Angst #please bare with my angst and emotional state #heart been broke so many times 💔💔#jude law #mads mikkelsen

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fruitmins · 8 months

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Agust Dad—Two

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: mentions of vomit and throwing up, pregnancy, one singular cuss word, talk about self hate, hints of abortion

note: i have such big plans for this, I just hope my writing comes in clutch. this is a little shorter, the next one will be longer I swear

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops

“What are you doing here?”

You ask, eyes widening when Yoongi shows up in your office one morning, effortlessly closing the door behind himself and stepping up to your desk before you can even finish your sentence.

You should have guessed that you’d have a visit from him, but you thought he was more rational than showing up at your office in broad daylight. He was supposed to be one of the more professional members.

“Is the baby mine?” Yoongi asks point blank, his tone neutral, perhaps even slightly stern.

His question hangs in the air, the answer being obvious – if slightly daunting and it catches you by the throat.

Instead, you continue to remain silent, your gaze fixed on the computer in front of you that faded to black a long while ago. You don’t know how to respond, or even what to say. And you were afraid that answering him would make everything more real. That reality would finally set in and you’d have to face the consequences.

Yoongi sighs and runs his hands through his long black hair frustratedly and decides to ask another question instead.

“How many weeks are you?” He asked this time and you know you can’t give him silence twice, not if you wanted to get him out of your office as fast as possible. You suck in a breath before you speak.

“Six weeks..” You whisper, your voice barely heard. Yoongi thinks back to six weeks ago, and realizes that the timeline added up. That he could possibly the the father.

Yoongi remains quiet for a few moments, as if letting your confirmation finally sink in. As he processes your words, his expression softens, but it’s visible that he was hit with a wave of thoughts. A mixture of emotions seems to dance across his features – uncertainty, fear, maybe even a hint of joy but you can’t find the strength to stare at him for too long.

You look at your computer, having your own wave of conflicting emotions and thoughts wash over you. Disbelief, shock, guilt – all of it, all at once.

But the longer there is a stalemate between the two of you, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere gets.

Just like you had thought. Reality set in the more silent you sat through.

You were pregnant with Min Yoongi’s baby.

“So…” Yoongi starts, breaking the heavy silence once and for all, “what do you plan on doing about it?”

“I plan on having a baby..” You state firmly but your voice is still small and quiet. You still can’t look up at him and stare at the black screen, feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with him of all people, in broad daylight.

There’s a long pause after your declaration. Yoongi takes a step back, his expression shifting into one filled with worry and concern. When he speaks his voice is in a whisper and filled with emotions.

“Why?”

You could guess in what direction this conversation is heading, and you don’t like it.

“You know I work in music. People wouldn’t be pleased to know I have a kid, let alone with a co-worker. Not to mention that I’m a public figure. Hell, we’re not even married.” You know it makes sense, you know that this baby would only make problems but something deep inside you urges you to object anyway. You know I’m your heart that you can’t just abandon and give up on this baby.

“I don’t need your help raising it.” You dare to say, your voice firm. You knew the risks of people finding out you were pregnant with Yoongi’s baby. The media would go crazy and you would likely lose your job. Still, you didn’t want to abandon your baby like he did you. Like he would do this child. You didn’t need his help, in fact, you rather he stay away all together.

The silence is stretched out until Yoongi finally speaks, his words measured.

"I see," he says slowly, the words sinking in, "so, you plan on raising the baby by yourself." He clarity’s to himself and you nod, staying firm.

He runs his hands through his hair again, this time with more tension. He thinks through your words and tries to process them, all while struggling to keep calm. He looked visibly stressed about the entire situation so you’re half expecting him to just give you a check for your silence and walk out.

He lets out a long sigh, the tension between you two reaching its breaking point.

"This is my problem too. I'll help you however I can," Yoongi says, his tone shifting into a more level- headed one. “But you can’t just decide what happens to this baby if it’s mine and leave me out. This affects me too.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his choice of words. If it’s he’s. Like you were always so unprofessional and just slept around. He was calling it a problem for God’s sake. Calling you a problem.

“It’s not like you would risk your whole career for a woman you don’t even know.” You say sternly, trying to control your emotions but it’s hard when your stomach and your throat are burning.

“I’ll raise this baby alone just like how you left me alone after we did it. You don’t get to decide anything.” You say and the words sound harsh but you’re just looking out for yourself. You didn’t need Yoongi and all the package he came with.

“So you’ll just have Jin help you though the whole thing.” He says and it earns him a scoff and a glare.

“I didn’t want to get Jin involved he was just there.” You say firmly, feeling your blood boiling even though you know you should calm down. “At least he was there.” You say harshly.

“Why do you keep saying shit like that?” He finally asks clearly getting worked up as he looks at you in disbelief and confusion.

“Because that’s what you did! You lured me in and then left me! I put my entire job in jeopardy and you didn’t even care.” You state, memories of being alone in the hotel, wallowing in self hate over your mistake.

You wanted to tell him how much he made you hate yourself. How much he damaged you on the inside. How he took your pride and dignity with him when he left.

“You made me feel terrible,” your voice cracks slightly as you try to hold down the tears in your throat. “And the worst part is that at the end of the day. It didn’t even affect you. You’re still famous and rich and loved by many.”

Your stomach turns as you think back to when you first heard BTS. When listened to his first album. How excited you were when you got to work with him on a song.

Yoongi's expression is blank, his eyes boring into you from the opposite end of the desk as he contemplates your words. This is indeed new information for him, and it might take some time for him to wrap his mind around.

Something changes in his eyes as he stares at you, his eyes never leaving you. He opens his mouth, looking conflicted as he tries to build a sentence but your to embarrassed and ashamed to even hear what he wants to say.

So before he can say anything you stand up from your desk and rush out, holding your stomach as you feel morning sickness coming. You know that he still has more to say, but you refuse to look back. For now at least, Yoongi will just have to stew in his own conflicted feelings.

You get to the bathroom, tears finally falling from your lids as you bent over the toilet and throw up the little breakfast you had. You felt like a mess all over again. Your head is spinning and your eyes are hazy. You’re so exhausted and tired you think you might faint.

You know that seeing Yoongi again would likely break you completely, and you’re to scared to go back to your office because you don’t know if he is gone or not.

You decided to go home early, stating that you’re sick and all it took was one good look at you and they gave you permission to leave. No doubt you looked a mess, even with a mask on.

Once you're home, you slump down on your bed, exhausted after the events of the day. You’d really need some rest after today's events, not to mention the persistent nausea and fatigue that have been plaguing you. You feel tired but can't seem to fall asleep, thoughts spinning around your head about your pregnancy and what's to come.

When you finally manage to get in a short nap it doesn’t last as long as you needed. You check the clock on your phone and see it's late at night, and that you have a new message from a number you don't recognize.

The text is completely anonymous. From an unsaved number you had never seen before. But despite this, know how exactly who it’s from and it sends you into a spiral.

i’m here now

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trentsgirl · 5 months

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— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ (1.5K)

⟡ summary: trent has been your best friend since childhood, always doing everything together. however, he secretly fell for you, and you did as well. when trent finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings, it wasn’t the outcome he’d expected.

⟡ content: angst, fluff, tiny mention of domestic violence, insecurities, reader is insecure and self sabotages, first half is pure angst, he fell first and harder, confessions, kissing, reader rejects trent.

⟡ notes: thank you so much for the request. and part two would be released in a bit, couldn’t leave y’all hanging like my last fanfic. 😭

⟡ streaming: fallingforyou by the 1975.

⟡ masterlist, request, request.

“he’s done it again, hasn’t he?” trent inquired when he discovered you in his doorstep, bawling your eyes out.

throughout the years, he had witnessed countless partners enter and exit your life, inflicting both physical and emotional pain. as your best friend, trent had been there by your side through it all.

he observed you waste your life, pursuing men who didn’t have an once of regard for you.

he loathed it.

he couldn’t comprehend why you never seemed to notice him. he had always been there for you, ready to lend a listening ear and provide support. unlike those men you encountered on random dating apps, he never let you down.

if only you had looked his way, it would have been a straightforward case of unrequited love.

“let it out, sweetheart. cry all want,” trent whispered, his voice barely audible, as the two of you sat on his couch.

you held him so tightly that it became difficult for him to breathe.

nevertheless, he didn’t mind. he cherished the fact that despite the countless men who had caused you harm, you still sought solace in him and placed immense trust in him.

you sobbed, your face buried in trent’s chest. he continued to plant gentle kisses on your hair, providing solace despite the discomfort of remaining in the same position.

after what felt like hours, the tears finally stopped as you couldn’t get anymore out.

trent’s fingers stroked your hair as you calmed down and pulled away from his chest, your eyes red and swollen.

“i’ve ruined your shirt,” you sniffled, glancing at the tear stains on his clothing.

trent shook his head, looking at you affectionately, his shirt being the last thing on his mind. his sole focus was on your well-being.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, a gesture that felt intimate more than it should be. “feeling better now? would you like me to make you some tea?”

trent’s voice resonated with a tender and charming tone that never failed to make you feel like the only woman he’s ever had eyes for, even though you doubted it was truly the case.

despite your love for him, you were well aware that he would never reciprocate those feelings as he simply deserved someone better, as you claimed.

“yes, please,” you nodded with a subtle smile, sniffling.

“you still got the cinnamon flavor one?” you asked with a sweet tone, causing trent’s heart to melt at the sound of your voice. and not to mention the look in your eyes, filled with both a plea and a dazzling allure.

trent always made sure to have a variety of tea flavors in his kitchen cabinet because he knew how much you loved tea. whenever you introduced him to a new favorite flavor, he would add it to his collection.

after giving you another kiss on the forehead, trent released his hold on you and got up from the couch. “of course. i’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared into the kitchen.

as trent brewed your tea, he contemplated whether this moment was opportune to finally confess his feelings that he had harbored for you all these years.

however, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that the outcome may not align with his desires. he was aware that you had recently ended a relationship and were in a vulnerable state, making it unfair to burden you with his feelings at this time.

a few minutes later, trent returned and placed a cup of tea on the table in front of you.

“it’s still hot, so give it a few minutes,” he informed, taking you into his arms once again and wrapping one arm around your shoulder. he sought your touch as much as you did his.

“thank you,” you whispered quietly, trying to hold back a sob, but it managed to escape. trent’s caring actions alone brought out all your emotions again.

trent gently stroked your hair, trying to comfort you. “hey, it’s okay. no need to cry anymore. he won’t hurt you again.”

you gently shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke, “no, it’s not about him.” you were well aware that your ex could no longer inflict any harm upon you, not with trent right by your side.

“i’m just grateful to have you in my life and i don’t think i’ll ever come across someone like you, who truly sees me for who i am.”

trent was deeply moved by your words, to say the least. before he could respond, you continued expressing your thoughts.

“i mean... all guys ever seem to want is sex, and it’s exhausting,” you vented with a hint of frustration in your voice. “it’s just so scary that there’s no guarantee i’ll ever be loved.”

trent, who has loved you since childhood, leaned in closer, his comforting brown eyes meeting yours. “but you are loved,” he reassured, his voice a soothing balm to your fears. “you have your family, your friends...”

although his voice remained calm and soothing, a fire ignited within him for all the men who had caused you pain, who had made you believe that you were not enough.

“but not by the person i want,” your voice cracked, "in the way i want to be loved. fiercely. passionately. a love that makes me feel like the only woman in his universe.”

trent’s hand delicately brushed against yours, a silent gesture that sent a thrill through your body. his usually serene eyes flickered with an indiscernible emotion.

starting to speak, only to hesitate and close his mouth, as if carefully weighing his words to preserve the bond of your friendship.

he understood that confessing his feelings now would be a mistake, jeopardizing the relationship you had.

however, he couldn’t suppress his desire, his need for you to comprehend that there was someone in this world who loved and truly saw you for who you are.

“i…” trent started, his voice trailing off as he glanced down at your intertwined hands.

a weighty silence enveloped the air, pregnant with unexpressed emotions.

finally, he lifted his gaze, his eyes bearing a raw expression. “i love you, y/n.” he confessed.

your breath caught in your throat. the world suddenly felt askew, your heart fluttering like a trapped hummingbird within the confines of your ribcage.

had you heard him correctly? could this just be a cruel trick?

trent’s voice quivered with emotion as he confirmed, “i’ve always loved you,” his words faltered, “with every sunrise, every shared joke, every tear you shed, my love for you grew, silently and steadily. you are the only woman in my entire universe, y/n.”

tears welled up in your eyes. the ache in your chest transformed into a blossoming warmth.

you hadn’t been that oblivious… right?

the signs had been there, woven into the tapestry of your years together - the lingering touches, the inside jokes, the way your laughter harmonized.

however, instead of embracing his love and listening to your head as you should have done, you hesitated and withdrew, a tempest of doubts swirling within you.

no matter how much you loved and desired trent, your insecurities seemed to overpower your emotions. comparing yourself to the beautiful girls that always surrounded him and sought his attention, you never considered yourself one of them.

in your mind, he deserved someone like those models, someone who could effortlessly complement him.

not you, the girl who was always overshadowed whenever a group of guys flirted with your friends.

not you, the girl who constantly looked for validation from other men, only to be met with disrespect.

not you, the girl who remained in abusive relationships because all you wanted was to be loved, even if it meant enduring pain in the process.

“trent,” you whispered, your voice choked, “i’m so sorry, but it’s not a good idea for us to be in a relationship.”

his world splintered, the once-familiar sofa beneath him feeling treacherous. “not a good idea?” he managed to choke out, disbelief etching lines on his forehead.

“we’ve known each other our entire lives. we’ve shared everything, supported one another, and been there through thick and thin. you can’t say you haven’t something for me. you just can't.”

trent struggled to contain his frustration. he longed to yell, to shake some sense into you, and make you realize that he was the perfect man for you.

however, your own insecurities were overshadowing everything else.

you shut your eyes, hot tears streaming down your cheeks like glistening trails. “it’s not that simple, trent,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

a deep divide formed between the two of you, the weight of his shattered hopes lingering in the air. the silence stretched, disrupted only by the rustle of wind coming from outside and the frantic pounding of his heart.

finally, trent, his voice strained with anguish, nodded. “alright, i understand.”

rather than a genuine understanding, it was an acceptance tinged with resignation.

he comprehended your rejection and your need for an invisible boundary between your friendship and the confession he had just made. he understood that pushing further would not dismantle the wall, but rather deepen the divide between you.

you tentatively reached out, your touch questioning and uncertain, seeking connection. however, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze, fearing the reflection of his shattered hopes in your eyes.

trent withdrew his hand cautiously.

despite your intense longing to stay and pour out all the love you have harbored for trent over the years, the words remained trapped within you, unable to escape.

it felt as though a heavy ball had lodged itself in your throat, rendering you unable to speak the truth.

“i’m truly sorry, trent.” you whispered, rising from the couch and leaving his home.

trent patiently waited until he heard the front door open and close before allowing his tears to flow. he couldn’t believe it had come to this.

he had officially lost you.

#trentsgirl—work! 🪐⋆｡°✩#fanfic rec🦢#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x you #trent alexander fanfic #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander imagines #football #football smut #football fanfic #football fluff #football angst #england football #football imagine #football x reader #football players #football x y/n #soccer imagine #soccer

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cosmictheo · 1 year

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𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

— summary: joel helps you through a emotional breakdown after henry and sam's death. — pairing: joel miller x female!reader — word count: 2k — warnings: angst, death mentions, suicide mentions, mental breakdown, crying fit, some backstory from reader's past, joel being the most comforting best boyfriend ever, ellie being the angel she is. just a little comfort for those who need it because it is deserved<3

joel’s playlist i made for inspo

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

“Henry, take it easy, look at me.”

Joel's voice barely managed to be heard over the constant ringing that had risen in your ears, mixed with the rumbling of your heart thundering in your ears.

“'Gimme the gun, Henry.”

“W—what did I do?” Henry's voice trembled and you closed your eyes tightly just after he took the gun to his head.

“Henry—”

All you heard next was the gunshot and the faint whimper of Ellie, whom you had pulled to your chest, shielding her with your body in case Henry wanted to have shot you in your direction, blinded by anger and grief.

Then you heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Joel. “Ellie. Are you okay?”

He comforted Ellie, speaking to her in a rather soft tone, resting his hands on her shoulders and stepping in front of her so that it wasn't possible for her to see Henry's body bleeding on the ground, though the damage had already been done, for she had seen firsthand how he had shot himself. The girl just nodded her head weakly and Joel then helped her to her feet, guiding her out of the room with slow steps, as she was still in shock.

And then he came back to you, naturally.

He called your name in a soft tone, crouching down in front of you, his hands sought your cheeks, cradling them and guiding your head in his direction, noticing how your eyes had dragged from Henry's body to his little brother in front of him, a few steps away. Your heart stopped for a few moments, noticing the orange paint still around his eyes, but then all you saw was Joel's anxious look as he turned your chin toward him very gently.

“Oh, baby girl—” Soft, frightened honey eyes searched yours, “Look at me, baby. I'm here, I've got you.”

You let out a sob against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him, blocking your view of the two bodies in the room.

“I'm so— so tired of this.” You blubbered out, quivering through sobs.

Joel clenched his jaw, blinking a couple of times so as to keep tears from coming from his eyes as he heard your broken sobs. And of course it was a difficult situation, you never thought it would end like this for Henry and Sam, you were supposed to help them.

But he knew exactly why it affected you so much. During the outbreak you had lost your sister, you had told him about her and how she had been taken from you by the infection, not a couple of hours had passed and she had already been bitten. You had to shoot her yourself, because who else would do it? You never forgave yourself for her death and you never would, he knew that.

And watching all this happen in front of your eyes of course had been like re-experiencing the most traumatic and terrifying day of your entire life.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered reassuringly against the side of your head, stroking your hair with one hand and with the other, tracing non-existent lines and shapes on your lower back. He placed a kiss on your the line of your forehead before speaking again, “Can you walk for me? We have to get out of here, okay?”

But you didn't respond, you simply broke in his arms and Joel felt his chest tighten at the sight of you in that vulnerable state. Rarely had he seen you like this, rarely had he seen you cry, much less in such a grief-stricken way.

So he simply held you, hugging you tightly, as if you were somehow going to disappear at any moment. He gave you a couple of minutes to unwind and then sighed shakily, fingers combing your hair.

“I'm gonna' to take you in my arms, okay?” he murmured against your ear, taking your arms to wrap around his neck, “hold on tight and just look at me, baby. Just me.” Your gaze crawled up to his face, finally meeting his, bright with concern and softness for you, his rough fingers caressed your cheekbone, “There you are, you just keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?”

“O–okay.” You replied in your broken voice, nodding weakly.

“That's my girl.” He complimented you tenderly, leaning in a little so he could lay an affectionate kiss on your forehead, trying to reassure you in every way he could. “You're doing so good.”

Your arms went around his shoulders and you hid your face against his neck as he lifted you into his arms, heading for the room door, where outside Ellie was still waiting for you, in complete silence.

She turned to you when she heard Joel leave the room and her face transformed to one of concern when she saw your condition. You had never shown yourself to be so emotional in front of her, not as much as Joel of course, at least you joked with her sometimes, were constantly concerned for her well being and even held her hand when you were in very dangerous situations. Ellie looked up to you and seeing you fall apart like that showed her that you were human and you were so strong.

She followed Joel silently as he exited the building with you in his arms, glancing at you from time to time with concern, although your sobs were over once you were outside.

Ellie gave you two a moment alone, giving you space as she stood a few feet away from you, sitting on a small concrete pillar.

Joel set you down on the ground, but his arms never left you, his hands running up your shoulders, caressing you affectionately, until they reached your face, his thumbs drying your wet cheeks. He made a pitiful little grimace as he met your bloodshot eyes, holding back a dark, lost gaze.

He wasn't used to seeing you so dull and detached from reality, but he did what he did best to bring you back to him. Talk to you through it. He new very well the effect his voice had on you, several times you had mentioned to him that you loved his voice because it managed to calmed you down even during difficult moments.

“I got you, baby.” Joel stated daintily, holding your gaze, soft voice bringing you back. “I'm here, I'm here for you, you're okay, you're safe with me.”

He approached you and kissed the tip of your nose affectionately, brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen across your forehead, blocking his view of your beautiful eyes. “I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.”

At his words, you felt the sudden urge to hug him, so you did, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him to you, making him break into a weak little smile, wrapping you in his arms again. As you laid your head against his chest, you closed your eyes, focusing on the beating of his heart against your ear, the expansion of his chest with each inhale of oxygen from his lungs, the way his fingers caressed your back, the smell of his scent, gunpowder, coffee and wet soil; Joel. Your Joel.

You sniffed once you lifted your head, resting your chin against his chest, “Ellie? She's—”

Joel smiled sweetly at your question, relieved to know that you were drifting back to him slowly, snapping back to reality. And of course the first thing you would do was ask about Ellie, his hands stroking your hair now, looking down at you in his arms, “She's fine, she's here.”

“I'm sorry.” You mumbled between sniffles and Joel watched with his brow furrowing in pity as shame passed over your beautiful face, eyes sorrowful. “I shouldn't have—”

And for that, he immediately interrupted you, making it impossible for you to continue with your unnecessary apology, well knowing it was coming, as you tended to feel the need to apologize whenever you were too emotional in front of him.

“Hey, there's nothin' you need to apologize for, pretty girl, most certainly not to me. It's a completely natural and normal reaction.” His gaze became sorrowful, thinking fleetingly of all you had suffered over the years and how he had not been there to protect you. But now he was. And he wasn't going anywhere. “You've been through a lot, but you're still here, with me, that means you're strong, darlin'. The strongest person I know.” His fingers trailed down your hair, again cradling your face within the familiar warmth they always offered. His cheeks expanded as a sympathetic, sweet smile tugged at his lips. “You know I got you. Always.”

You nodded your head, pushing aside every reason your head was giving you to apologize for feeling this way and focusing on his eyes, your hands made a path up his arms until they rested over his hands, fingers soothingly caressing his upon your cheeks. “I know. Thank you, honey.”

“That's what I'm here for.” He replied before leaning over to you and leaving a kiss on your forehead so soft and loving that it made you close your eyes, holding back the urge to cry again. “I'm going to bring them here, bury them. They deserve it.”

You nodded your head once again, “They do.”

Joel broke away from you and not before giving your hand a squeeze he half turned back to Ellie, throwing her a gentle look, twisting his head in your direction. “Stay close to her.”

Ellie didn't need him to tell her that for her to immediately cling to you, offering you a weak smile as you took her hand between yours. She gave it a small squeeze, silently letting you know she was there for you, which you thanked her for by returning the gesture.

And you both watched with your hands joined as Joel buried Henry and Sam. And by the time Joel finished, Ellie unlaced her hand from yours, walking towards the graves, taking in her other hand the small slate that belonged to Sam.

Joel took his position back at your side, analyzing your gaze as you watched Ellie lay the little slate on Sam's grave, both of you giving her own time to mourn and to say goodbye to the one who, so far, had been the closest thing to a friend she'd had in years, maybe. It broke your heart at the mere thought of how much she had had to go through in her short life. She was so strong.

Ellie stood up a few minutes later, looking at Joel. Her face was stern and she looked more determined than ever. She was just tired of losing people too, you guessed. “Which way's west?”

Joel simply answered her by motioning with his head in the direction and she without another word, started walking to the street.

Your eyes filled with tears as you saw what she had written to him on the board. 'I'm sorry.'

Joel's warm hand on your lower back brought you back to reality, drawing your attention back to him, looking at you affectionately. “You ready?”

You nodded your head and looked at him as he put his backpack back on, hanging up his jacket before taking your hand between his and walking back down your path, leaving once again, a couple more bodies behind you, weighing more on your shoulders.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #hbo tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #the last of us x reader #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #the last of us fanfiction

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yeondollie · 2 months

Text

ᴍʏ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ ౨ৎ ᯓ★

beomgyu x fem! reader ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

. . warnings ; ANGST .ᐟ, heartbreak, based on the film '20th century girl', usage of the nicknames (my love, baby, my pretty girl), very very tropey, beomgyu does NOT die like the film, not a good ending, mentions of sunghoon from enhypen and chaewon from le sserafim, just so so sad :( my heart hurts ♡

. . words ; 1.4k

a/n ; hi bbys !! i just rewatched 20th century girl and i was BAWLING :< i kept thinking of beomgyu with the "i will wait for you" trope ughhh so so sad :(( anyways enjoy ml ౨ৎ

. . part two ౨ৎ

"will you wait for me? can do you that for me my pretty girl?" beomgyus holding you close to him, your tears falling on his sweatshirt. he was leaving, to you it was for forever but it was just to study abroad in paris for a year.

"please dont cry, i'll be back for you. i promise you, pinky promise me?" he stuck out his pinky finger, waiting for your to intertwine with him. hot tears ran down your face as you pulled away from his chest and tied your pinky with his. "y-you really p-promise beomgyu?"

"yes angel," his head rested on yours. "you'll be back in my arms again in no time, okay?" he tried to push out a smile.

this one stung.

you nodded silently, your voice was too strained to answer him back. the final call to get on that stupid train was announced. he pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands. "see you my love, i love you more than anything." and before you could answer back he was on that train, waving goodbye to you.

your tears were falling so hard, it was getting difficult to breathe. you waved goodbye back, seeing that dumb train door close allowing it to take off. as soon as that door closed, beomgyu broke out in tears trying to cover his sounds as to not disturb his other passengers. "f-fuck.." he mumbled feeling his own tears drop to his sweatshirt, paired with the stains of yours.

it had been a year. a year without beomgyu, a year with no contact. you tried texting him, nothing went through. you tried calling him, nothing went through. you even tried email, nothing absolutely radio silence. wasn't he supposed to come back already? why? why weren't you in his arms again like he promised?

you grabbed your pillow, screaming and letting out all your emotions. how stupid were you to think he would actually stay in contact? "you stupid.. stupid boy." your words were muffled in your pillow yet you didn't feel anger, only sadness and only tears of pain could come out of your eyes.

all your friend told you to move on, even setting you up with a guy. 'park sunghoon' was his name and yes he was handsome but.. every touch, you just thought of beomgyu. you thought of the way he would play with your hair, the way he would hold you in his arms, the way he would look into your eyes.

maybe sunghoon was good for you, maybe he would provide you the comfort you were truly needing but beomgyu was the only man on your mind. you couldn't bare the thought of being held by a man other than beomgyu.

the days he would fix your skirt when it was too high, when he would wipe the extra lipgloss on your lips, the way he would speak to you so softly. it was all too much, you missed him so much it hurt your heart.

yet today was the day you were to hang out with sunghoon, maybe try something new. you two were going to a local festival to watch some fireworks, maybe get a bit to eat. maybe this was the turn around for you, to see if sunghoon could help you out of your helpless state.

you were all prettied up. hair up in a bow, dress on, and some pretty sneakers your friend had gifted you. sunghoon, standing in front of you, had your favorite flowers in his hands and a pretty smile on his face. he looked so starstruck to see you like this. "i-i.. you look so pretty.. these are for you! i-i know you.. i mean i remembered you told me you liked them.. so i-i got them."

you took the flower sin your hands and smiled, maybe this was gonna turn around. "you're so sweet. thank you hoon." you give him and big hug, feeling that love surround you like it once did a year ago. "the place isn't super far away so i'd thought we could walk."

the walk was fun, he was a big question asker and luckily for him you were a big talker. he liked it, he liked to listen and to ask. until the two of you arrived, you just talked his ears off.

you were really starting to feel your mood switch. maybe he was bringing out a better you, a you that could actually love again.

when you two got there, to your surprise, he had already set up some blankets and some snacks. "hoon.. y-you didn't need to do this." you chuckle and you could feel his shaky hand wrap around your waist. "i-i know but.. you know you're really special to me" you could almost feel the tears start to dwell in your eyes.

sunghoon sat beside you on the blanket he had set, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "you see that star? it shines really bright huh? its really pretty.. like you." sunghoon adds, prompting you to lay your head on his shoulder. "s-stop.." you giggle. he ruffles your hair a bit and laughs himself. "hey! its true.." he adds.

after a while of snacking and laughing with sunghoon you had to use the restroom to freshen up. "hoon i'll be back, stay here okay?" he nods and you turn around, trying to find directions to the bathroom.

you spot a man drinking something and prompted that he looked nice enough, maybe he would have some directions. "hey excuse me, do yo-" you couldn't mutter another word as he turned around.

choi beomgyu?

to make matters worse, there was a girl around his arm. is this why he hasn't been taking to you? as much as you wanted to explode on him, you just wanted to get back to sunghoon to not have him worry. "d-do.. you know where t-the restrooms are?" you ask, your voice clearly shaky.

"r-right.. over there," he gulps and you turn around to leave. "but wait!" his shoulder forces you to face him once again. "_____?" his voice just sends tears to rush down your face immediately.

"s-stop dont.. dont cry." his hands were now on your shoulders. he knew he messed up. truth is, he could message you. you were just blocked. he could call you, he had just blocked you. he read your emails, he just didn't respond. why? he had met a women, chaewon, back in paris where he had been studying and forgot all about his promise to you.

"d-dont touch me." you brush him off and turn back around to walk towards the bathroom. he's taken aback from your words, dont touch you? but thats all he wanted to do at the moment, all we wanted was to have your love again.

"baby plea-" he was cut off from your harsh words. "dont you dare call me that."

he could tell how much pain he had put you through and god he felt horrible but no, you couldn't forgive him. not in a million years. for a whole year you had thought something happened to him, his phone got lost, his number had changed. all these delusion lies to shun you from the truth.

"you didn't keep your promise." you say, voice low. he cupped your face like he did on that fateful day but his look, his look changed. he didn't look at you with love in his eyes, he looked at you with this guilty look. he knew he had messed up.

you pulled away from him, unable to stomach the fact he was cheating on you while here you were; thinking he was in danger. "are you.. here with somebody?" he gulps as he asked this, god he hoped the answer was no.

"yea." he could feel the liquid rising in his throat, he was sick. "really? y-you.. you're here with somebody?" you nod, not wanting anything else to do with this conversation.

"i really h-have to go, h-he's waiting for me." you look anywhere but beomgyus eyes and turn away to leave once more but he insists. "_____ can i tell you something?" you nod your head, still avoiding eye contact while he bends down to whisper something in your ear.

"i still love you, please dont do this."

#txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt angst #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu txt #beomgyu angst #beomgyu x reader #yeonjun #soobin #hueningkai #kang taehyun #angst #kpop #yeondolliesworks

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janaispunk · 3 months

Text

end game

series masterlist • this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl”.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader

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babygorewhore · 3 months

Text

Let me In

After being held hostage, you’re rescued by Ghost. But the trauma of being the only survivor has made you unable to lean on anyone for comfort. Despite his efforts.

So this is my first ghost fic so I apologize for anything that’s OOC and inaccurate. This is angst and hurt comfort with smut! Please be kind!!

Warnings! Mentions of violence and death! Injury! Survivors guilt! Reader is lowkey kinda toxic! Arguing! Mentions of troubled relationships with family members. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected sex! Not proofread! Thank you to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for beta reading!!

You were rescued weeks ago. You had been kidnapped while going home, tortured for information on the location of a man you didn’t even know. And even if you did, you would have still remained silent. Remained cold. You were known for that. Known for your brash, intimidating and icy existence. As a child, you had learned long ago it was better to stay calm. Stay quiet if you want to survive. Never show your emotions.

You used to be expressive. Emotional. But it resulted in being called a cry baby. Dramatic. Bullied throughout school and then during training as a younger girl. Your parents constantly criticize you. So finally.

You shut it off.

When you were captured, you had been hit on the back of the head with a gun and then thrown into a cell with hostages an hour later after being unconscious. You had been assaulted. You knew by the bloody state of your legs and pants torn off. Everything hurt.

You were a good person. Strong and Steady. But all of that went away when they tortured you for three days with the group they’d taken. Beating you. With their fists. Weapons. And finally before you were rescued, they sliced at your skin with a knife. Leaving you scarred.

You were the only survivor when a military unit rescued you.

You were still being cared for medically. Still working out the details of your future. Your internal injuries are strong enough to leave you weak and almost helpless. But you pushed through. You slept a lot. Trying to recover. But it was a slow process.

Worst of all, you felt extremely guilty that you were the only one who made it. Whenever you slept, you had nightmares of the screaming. The wails of those being harmed.

You didn’t expect one of the men who rescued you to be a masked man.

He went by Ghost. He was probably around five or more years older. He checked on you. Almost everyday. But your interactions were extremely short. Polite.

You weren’t home. It wasn’t safe to leave from how hurt you were. And you missed home. You missed your own bed. You missed all your stuffed animals. It hurts that you were stuck here in an unfamiliar place.

A knock signaled you someone was at your door.

“Come in.”

Ghost walked in. His large size made him almost duck underneath the door and he carried a tray of food. “You Missed dinner.” He said simply and he set it down on the small table in the corner.

“I’m not hungry. Not really. But thank you.” You kept it short and you folded your arms.

Ghost sighed but didn’t leave. He stayed still whenever you saw him. It almost looked like he wasn’t breathing sometimes. “How’s your leg?” He cleared his throat and glanced down with his dark eyes. His mask didn’t disguise the frown that was settling on his face as he took in your dark circles. The fading bruises on your face.

“It’s still sore but I can walk a little bit. I limp.” You answer quietly. It was so difficult to say those words. You loved being able to move. Run. Dance. And now you were facing the possibility that you couldn’t. Not the same as before.

“I can always help you. When I’m here. All you gotta do is ask.” His deep voice was completely serious. He wanted to help you? He barely knew you.

“Thanks. I appreciate the offer.” You responded dryly.

Ghost shifted on his feet. He looked…awkward. “Well…I’ll let you rest. But I hopefully see you out of your room tomorrow. Being locked away in here isn’t going to help.”

You wanted to show annoyance at his tone but you kept it cool. “I’m tired. It’s hard to walk. I’d rather just stay here for now.”

Ghost nodded. “I’ll uh-leave you to it.”

He closed the door and you slowly exhaled.

You were glad to be alone. You wanted to think. Remember those who had fallen.

You dreamed about it. You dreamed about being sliced like a piece of meat. You woke up, almost screaming before you remembered you were out. The only one out.

It happened all hours of the night. You’d sleep maybe an hour before waking in a cold sweat. You shed a few tears before grabbing your cane and standing. You limped out of your room. Your pajama pants are too big, given that they were borrowed by one of the men who donated his clothes to you. Your socks met the cold floor as you walked in the kitchen.

You thought it would be empty, no one was sitting in the scattered chairs and you smelled cigarettes. Your nostrils flared at the smell and you sighed. It wasn’t much different. Being isolated in your room was plaguing your mind but this room was at least bigger.

That’s when you saw Ghost leaning against the counter in the dark. You shrieked and immediately turned on the light.

He quickly held up his hands. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ghost's Voice was thick with regret at his stillness and you set down the hand that was on your chest.

“It’s okay. I should have looked.” You nodded as you started to pull out one of the chairs.

“Here, let me.”

“No. I got it.” You rejected his offer and sat. The cool seat sends chills up your spine. Ghost exhales before clearing his throat.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks and you nod. “Me either. I don’t sleep most nights.” The conversation felt forced. And you didn’t want his pity.

“Yeah. It’s tough.” You toyed with your sleeves at the end of your hands before wincing at the spasm that sent up your ribs. Your breathing panted as you tried to power through it

“Shit. Wait, I’ll get you something.”

“No. It’s okay.” You start to say before groaning as a deep ache throbbed. You forgot your pain killers but you hated the idea of Ghost getting you anything.

He didn’t listen as he left and went to the medic. You hated the fuss as he came back with a handful of medication and a glass of water.

You tried to reach forward but the stretch was too difficult so Ghost warily held the pills to your lips. You opened your mouth and accepted the water that traveled down your throat. A shuddered breath came and ghost reached forward again.

“Here. Let me carry you, this chair isn’t comfortable.”

“No. I’ll be fine. I don’t need help.” You quipped at him and his hand faltered. “I just need a second.” Your tone caused his eyes to harden but he didn’t argue. A few minutes went by and the pain subsided enough so you could breathe properly and you didn’t notice Ghost had made two cups of tea. You almost groaned at his gesture but you kept silent. Your fingers wrapped around the handle.

“Thank you.” You offered and Ghost took a seat in front of you.

“You’re welcome.” Ghost hesitated before he stared into your eyes. “You need to let someone help you. You could hurt yourself even worse by doing it all alone.”

“I don’t need help. I need to practice doing it myself.” You replied and he sighed.

“Is your room comfortable? I know you still don’t have any of your own clothes and I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s fine.” You responded sharply. You were growing exhausted from his endless attempts at conversation. And he seemed to get the hint as he quieted.

You both sat there for a while as you sipped your warm tea. You titled your head. “This is really good. I’m more of a coffee girl.”

Ghost grunted. “Coffee is poison. Tea at least serves a purpose.”

Your lips quirk into a small smirk. “It keeps me human.”

His eyebrow raised. “Let me guess. You don’t drink much water, either.” You glanced down at the half empty glass. “Women.” His tone had a hint of playfulness to it.

“Men.” You marched his inflection and you looked down at your palms. They were scarred. Deeply from knife wounds.

“I have to be honest with you,” he said your name with a bone chilling seriousness. “I’m concerned. You never allow anyone to help you. You don’t leave your room. And I understand that. But if you don’t allow anyone in-“

“What? What will happen?” You said with a icy voice. “It’s not your problem.”

His jaw clenched but he didn’t answer back.

Two days passed and you still hadn’t made any progress with your walk as you hobbled in your room without your cane.

You hated this. You hated this so much as your mind raced with thoughts of Ghost spending time with you the other night. You had sat in silence after his offer of concern that you rebuffed. You didn’t know why he was so concerned with you. It wasn’t the first time he had rescued someone. You weren’t sure why he wanted to stay with you. Your thoughts drove you to stumble, falling over on your back as your head smacked against the floor.

You grunted painfully as you saw stars. Your door burst open.

“Fucking hell!” A deep voice bellowed. You felt arms scoop you up and pull you against a hard chest. “We’re going to medical.” It was Ghost. You had no idea how he could even know what happened.

“Were you outside my door?” You said shocked as your head throbbed. He carried you but you started trying to remove yourself from his grip. “Put me down.” You commanded.

“The hell I will,” He said matter of fact. “You could have a concussion.”

“And I’ll deal with it.” You told him and he didn’t answer back.

You were examined and released back to your room an hour later. The nurse told you-well ordered you to use your cane at all times. Ghost was in your room now, trying to clean up the spilled mess on your floor where you fell.

“I can get it myself.” You said casually and he stood up straight.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it. What is it? Why are you acting like this?” His voice raised. “Why are you acting like some sort of drone? Do you understand what happened to you?”

His volume surprised you but your eyes hardened. “Yes. I was there.”

That seemed to make him visibly angrier. His black clothes hug his muscles and his neck veins start to show. “You were kidnapped! Hurt! Fucking hell you have to walk with a god damn. You shouldn’t be walking at all.”

“And?” You said, bored. You went to move past him but he stepped in your way.

“No. I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt yourself like this. You need someone to help you. I keep trying and you’re not accepting it. You’re not sleeping. You won’t eat. Drink. Or listen to anyone. It’s not right.”

“I don’t see how it’s your issue, Ghost.” He started trembling with rage and he stepped forward. Nearly in your face.

“It’s my issue because I’m worried sick. Seeing you in that pit gutted me. Seeing all those people dead-the good men we lost trying to rescue all of you-tortures me. And you wont show any emotion about it. Don't you have any sort of feelings about what happened? Or are you as cold as you act?”

“Showing how I feel about it isn’t going to change what happened.” A spark lights in your chest of anger. How dare he speak to you this way? How dare he make this about him?

“Then prove it. Prove that you even care.”

“You think I don’t care about what happened?” You said, shocked at his implication. “Just because I’m not sitting here crying about it?”

“You’re not just not crying. You’re withering away!” He shouts. Your jaw clenches. “You could die if you don’t let me help you.”

“I don’t care if I do!” You yell back. “Maybe I should have!”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” His tone made you snap. “Don’t throw away your life because you felt guilty. Guilty that everyone else didn’t make it. It’s not worth it and they would want you to live and be happy. You can’t just throw away everything because of them. I know how hard it is to be the last man standing but you’ve got to try.” The more he spoke. The more his voice softened and your hackles lowered. “You. Deserved. Better.”

You were surprised at his vulnerability. His way of reaching your heart. And you saw his point.

“I’m sorry.”

Ghosts' hands reach out to gently rest on your shoulder. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. I just want you to listen. You can trust me.”

You swallow.

“I wish I could.”

Your statement must have cut through him like a knife. But you knew it was better to push him away. He didn’t need to deal with your damage. Your fractured mind.

Without another word, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut. Causing you to flinch. But your shoulders were squared. It was for the best. He needed to leave you alone. Let you handle this. Let you heal by yourself.

Another week went by. More days of you isolating yourself. You were starting to become comfortable. Comfortable sitting in silence. Comfort in being alone where no one could ever hurt you again or remind you of what happened. Your clothes were starting to loosen. You were losing your taste. And you had a deadline of when you were hopefully going home.

Three more weeks until you were healed enough to stop seeing the nurse everyday. Where a doctor at home could look after you.

You felt a mixture of emotions. Relief you could go home and sleep in your apartment soon but a dull ache where joy used to reside.

You thought about those nights more and more. Lost in memories of the man hurting you. The weeping of the other hostages begging to be let go for their families. Their children. Your own pleading words ignored by the sadistic intentions of the captor.

It was getting more difficult to make the few trips out of your bedroom. You didn’t want to look anyone in the eye. How would you ever face the victims' remaining family? How would you ever provide comfort? It was too late for them. But not for you.

It killed you. As your brain relentlessly reminded you of your survival.

The nurses explained it was survival guilt. A way your mind tried to cope with a life threatening event when you were the only one who made it. Maybe you shouldn’t have. It would have been fair. You sat in the kitchen again. Past three in the morning with a cup of coffee as you pondered things you needed to do when you arrived home. How were you supposed to speak to your friends? Your parents? Everyone probably thought you were dead.

“That’s why you don’t sleep.” You jumped at the familiar accented voice and turned to see Ghost walking to the table, his loose sweatpants and black t-shirt against his body while he wore a pair of sneakers. “You’re still drinking poison.” He said gruffly as he took a seat across from you.

“I guess so.” Your reply was dry as you took another sip. The cream and sugar down your throat sends a warm, tingly feeling in your body.

“That’s my shirt.” Ghost said, nodding his head down. “I gave it to the nurses a few days ago. FIgured it would be warmer than Soaps.” The nickname makes you chuckle.

“I thought so. No one else would wear all black. A man after my heart.” You laced your fingers together and set them on the metal.

He looked at you curiously. “All black?”

“Yeah. Color doesn’t really suit me. Does that surprise you?” He shook his head. Slowly and he straightened his shoulders.

“Heard you were going home soon. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going. The last one went so horribly and you didn’t expect him to speak to you again. “Not really ready to face anyone.”

“Do you miss your family?” The question struck a chord inside you and you exhaled heavily. “I shouldn’t have asked you.” He corrected himself but you shook your head.

“It’s okay. I do miss them. But it’s complicated. I know how they’re going to be when i get back and im not looking forward to it.” THe information flooded through you easier than you expected.”My father and I have a complicated relationship.”

Ghost took in the words and leaned back in his seat. His legs are separating. You took a moment to subtly admire him. Even under the mask, you knew he’d be handsome. You knew he had a strong face, dark eyes and his firm brows that stuck out whenever his mask moved. His large body. Chiseled with muscle and tattoos. He wasn’t unkind to look at.

“I can understand that.” His short, gruff answer told you that must have been an understatement. “Any friends?”

“Just a few.”

“Sometimes that’s more than enough. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you.” He offered and you looked down at the shiny surface underneath you.

“Ghost, why are you speaking to me? Especially with how our last conversation went.” You asked him bluntly and he looked at you with a glint of surprise.

“I went for a workout. Saw you were in here. Nothing complex. I know better than to push you.” His words gave you the reality check that you’d hurt him but he was still here. Offering you company. You didn’t know his duties. You didn’t know how this worked. You weren’t even sure how the rankings worked. You never left the four walls in your room.

“I see. Pretty late for a workout.” Ghost grunts.

“Pretty late for a cup of coffee. I’m tempted to snatch it out of your hands.” You weren’t sure, but you could have sworn he almost sounded…playful? Amused?

The corner of your mouth curled and you shrugged. “I’m not sure you could. With those scrawny arms and all.” Ghost huffed out a short laugh.

“I could throw you over my shoulder with one hand, darlin. Don’t test your luck.” Darling. You’d never been called that seriously before and your breath hitched. He either pretended he didn’t notice or he genuinely didn’t. “Besides. Sure you could use some strength.”

“You’re probably right.” You chuckled and held your mug tighter. You needed to warm it but getting up would reveal your limp and you didn’t want to give him another reason to criticize your choices. You shouldn’t have talked so much. He was probably getting bored with you.

“Care for something to eat?” Ghost stood and motioned. “I can make you something.” You shook your head, respectfully declining. But then your stomach growled. You didn’t even feel hungry so the noise surprised you.

“I think I have my answer.”

Ghost made you something simple. Eggs and toast but as you ate, you found yourself finishing the entire plate and your belly wasn’t in pain anymore. “Here,” Ghost said, bringing your attention back to him. He slid his plate over that still had a piece of bread a few minutes later. “You can have the rest.”

You normally would refuse but you accepted with a smile. “Thank you.” You ate it and you laughed. “This reminds me of Sunday mornings with my parents when I was younger. We used to make this all the time because I was such a picky eater. My dad wanted to kill me sometimes.” Your eyes dazed as you remember the few peaceful times in your childhood.

“I bet. Someone who lives off of coffee must not have a wide range.” His playful, low tone came back and you glanced up at him. His elbows were on the metal table. His biceps flexing as he moved. “Do you want any more?”

You quickly shook your head and you felt uncomfortable with being more expressive and you stood wobbly. “I should get going.” Ghost looked like he wanted to protest but he seemed to shift directions as he stood too. His height loomed over you until he slouched.

“Wait. Let me walk you to your room.”

“No. It’s okay.” You denied and settled your weight on your injured legs. “I’ve got it.”

“No you don’t. But if you insist on still being stubborn,” Ghost growled. “Why can’t I at least walk you?”

“Because I don’t need a babysitter.” You replied and turned.

“Fine. But I don’t have to listen.” Ghost swept you up in his arms, bridal style and you shrieked. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He carried you to your room, ignoring the glances from other soldiers as he opened the door and he sets you down on your bed.

“I didn’t need-“

“Yeah! You didn’t need help! I’ve heard it. And I decided not to listen.” Ghost was growing agitated but you ignored him.

“Thank you. But next time, please let me do it.”

“I don’t understand.” Ghost extends his arms. “I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to me helping you.”

“And I don’t understand why you keep trying!” You say to him, voice still calm.

“Because I care about you. I care about how you’re doing.” Ghost grits out. “I want you to be okay. Especially with what you’ve been through.”

“I’m fine. I’m healing.” Your response seems to send him over the edge.

“Are you even human? Do you even mourn? Or are you too busy trying to be some robot?”

The word mourn causes you to reach up and slap him across the face. His head turns and he lets out a pained grunt. You step closer, your cane falling to the ground. “You can say whatever you want about me. But don’t ever question my mourning. I don’t even want to be here because I don’t think I deserve it more than them.”

Ghost’s eyes held an emotion that you couldn’t place. You weren’t sure if it was anger. Disappointment. Sadness. But then they drifted to your lips and you couldn’t find it in yourself to move. One because your leg hurt and second his gaze was pinning you in place.

“You do deserve it.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “You deserve to be here.” Ghost says your name in an almost pleading voice. “Please, let someone be there for you.”

You don’t move away for a second, feeling his breath on your skin before you take a step back. “I can’t do that.”

Ghosts eyes close and you sit down on the bed. Your thigh begins to throb. “Please go. I’m asking you to leave.” But he didn’t listen.

Instead, lowered himself to his knees and stared into your eyes. Your breath halted and your gaze softened. A fear iced inside you as he started to lean in. Towards your lips. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to move away. Something in you cracked. A dam broke. His kindness. His efforts. His way of trying to help you and your constant rejection. It wasn’t fair of you.

An overwhelming ache seized in your chest and your eyes began tearing up. You doubled over, knocking onto him as a loud wet sob escaped your throat and you began shaking. “Oh god,” You started wailing and Ghost's strong arms crushed you to him. His hard muscular body gave you a steady place to fall as you wept.

“It’s not your fault.” He said against your ear. Which made you cry harder. You wanted to believe him. You were so tired of pulling away.

“I just don’t know how to speak. I’ve been told my whole life I’m too much.”

“You’re not.” His arms tightened around you. It honestly hurt but you welcomed the pressure and you felt his lips against your head. Pressing soft kisses to your hair.

The feeling gave you chills and your overwhelming sorrow began to lessen. The thoughts of death. Your own dark ideas eased. They weren’t gone. But his embrace distracted you. He pulled back but kept his arms around your back. “You can call me Simon. My real name, love.” The nickname sent a chill up your spine and in the heat of the moment, his dark gaze on your face underneath his mask.

With one hand moving up your torso, Ghosts fingers pulled up his mask, revealing his beautiful face. It took you aback. His jawline was strong and sharp. His nose fit the proportions of his face and his lips were naturally turned down. His tongue darted out to swipe over his teeth. You could tell that he was uncomfortable. So your palms cupped his cheeks and your thumbs gently stroked his skin.

“You’re beautiful…” you whispered. And he laughed quietly.

“Thank you, darling. I don’t do this. But I want you to see me. Just like I see you.”

Without thinking, you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips to his. Your kiss was gentle against his slightly dry mouth and he inhaled. Still as a statue and you wondered if you were making a mistake but then he returned the gesture with a force. His mouth parted and he moaned against your mouth. Your hands gripped his shirt as he deepened the kiss with his tongue, exploring the crevices of your mouth before tangling the sticky muscle against yours.

His hands were pawing at your body with a strength and dominance you’d never experienced. You’d kissed people before but it wasn’t like this. Ghost’s motions weren’t clumsy but he wasn’t gentle. He lifted himself and pushed you on your back without breaking the kiss and your stomach fluttered as he tore himself away and peppered wet kisses along your jaw, down to your neck and he grazed your collarbones with his teeth. You swallowed and closed your eyes.

“This alright?” He paused and you nodded. “No. Say it. Say it or I’ll stop.”

“No, don’t stop. Please. Please don’t stop, Simon.” You pleaded and he returned with his mouth dragging along your flesh. Goosebumps raised and your leg, the good one, wrapped around his waist as he straddled you. His thick thighs and wide torso were a little difficult to hold as he held his weight with one arm and tried not to crush you. You tugged him closer, the heel of your foot pressed against his lower back, and your fingers buried themselves in his hair.

“Fucking hell,” he growled and pulled your shirt up to your tits. Ghost looked at the faint scars and fading bruises and his lips trailed in open mouth kisses along them. Your back arched and you dug your nails into his clothed shoulders as you encouraged him to remove his shirt.

When he did, you gasped at his body. His muscular form was refined and broad. Perfect. His tattoos were wrapped around his skin in a decorative story. Your fingertips traced along them and he captured your hand. “Mmm, you’re being such a good girl. Listening and responding to me. I bet you’re wet, hmm? Just from me kissing this pretty skin.”

His words made your core tighten as he roughly removed your leggings and you quickly covered your bandages. He moved your hand away, “don’t hide from me, love. Want all of you…” he whispered and his lips lowered to kiss your hips. You whimpered at the sensation and bucked your pelvis and he let out a low chuckle. “Patience, princess. I can’t spoil you too much.” He teased and hooked his fingers along the bands of your panties and pulled them down, the center sticky with arousal. “Such a pretty little cunt, love.” He muttered under his breath as he bent his head forward and hovered his mouth above. You tried to bring him forward, desperate to relieve the pent up tension you held from denying him.

“Simon, please,” You begged. “Make it go away, just for a little while. Please taste me.” You spoke in a prayer and he groaned. Unable to deny you any longer as he slid down further and your leg went around his shoulder as he gently held your other leg down. His tongue was flat and wide as he swirled it around your clit, taking his time to savor your slick and he worked his way down to your entrance. He dipped his tongue inside, filling you up and you bit your lip to quiet the sounds you wanted to make. He must have sensed it because he shook his head, his small amount of facial hair tickling your skin.

“Mm, let me hear those sounds, pretty girl. I want to hear how good I make you feel.” You obeyed him by allowing yourself to shudder out a breathy whimper as he lapped at your pussy, licking you like a melting ice cream cone and possessively kept you still. He devoured you and relentlessly pressed harder, leaving no room for questioning who you belonged to in this moment. Your hand flew to his neck, cupping the back of it before settling around his throat. He liked that. A lot. Ghost’s teeth were barely against your cunt as your stomach was coiling inside and flexing from build up. “Oh, fuck.” You managed and turned your head to the side. “Oh god,”

“No, no, no, look at me.” he ordered and lifted himself up. You whined from the absence of his touch before he unbuckled his belt and pried off his form fitting pants. His boxers clung to his body. Looking painted on as his cock twitched against the material. You could see how big he was and you wondered for a second if it would fit. “Aw, don’t look so nervous, precious. I’ll make sure that pussy takes me without trouble.” After that, he pulled down his underwear and it slapped against his thigh. The angry purple, leaking tip hung heavily as he crawled back on top of you. “I’m going to make you forget all that shit. You’re mine right now. Don’t fucking forget that, baby girl.” He said authoritatively and you mewled as his command.

He rolled his dick against your glistening cunt, it kept hitting your center and he cupped it, further focusing on your swollen bud. “I have to show that clit some love. I know you’re ready for it,” He cooed as you desperately kept saying his name. You felt like you were leaking like a faucet. Finally, taking you out of your misery, he entered his tip inside you, the stretch immediate as you grunted. THe pain disappeared after a second and you welcomed him. Ghost crashed his lips against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss and he bites your lower lip and tugs on it.

“Simon,” You slurred as he sank deeper, halfway in.

“That's it, love. You can take it. You’re such a good girl.” He was almost unable to speak against your mouth as he thrusted, sinking into the hilt and his balls slapped against you. His thumb shoved against you and circled your clit. “Clenching around me, you needed this didn’t you? Needed my cock to keep you sane.” His possessive words made you nearly scream as he jolted you with thrusts, making the headboard slam against the wall with brute force. You knew others could hear outside but you couldn’t care less. Your mind was fuzzy as your pussy took him without question.

His hand was balanced above you, and your forehead was against his as spit connected between you but it wasn’t gross like other men you’ve fucked. Ghost was thoroughly rutting inside you, hitting every single spot you needed as you were getting closer, you were unable to keep your eyes on him. He wasn’t exactly kissing you but his mouth was on your neck. His canines sharply biting down and you cried out. It tipped you over the edge and you creamed all over his cock, the slippery and sticky substance making it easier for him to move.

He gave a few more thrust before ropes of cum coated your insides and he pressed a hand on your stomach, “Look at how I’m filling you up,” His voice was thick with a moan as he stilled and jerked inside you with aftershocks.

Ghost stayed there for a few seconds before pulling out and your pussy was dripping. Ghost gave you a satisfied smirk. “Cock drunk enough, little love? Can’t talk?” You nodded slowly.

“Give me about five minutes.” He rolled off of you and settled on his back on the small mattress. His size made it almost comical the way he tried to fit. “You feeling okay? No regrets?”

You settled on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You could hear his fast heartbeat as you chest his bare chest. “No, Simon. I don’t regret it.”

Your mind was clouded but you were able to focus on the moment. Your emotions mix with a low state to a distraction. But you knew eventually you’d go back to guilt. The shame. And you’d be going home.

Until then, you would lay here with him and forget. Just for a while. And allow yourself to enjoy his warmth.

@marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch

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