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#I'm so wound up and scared that i can barely do anything at all and I'm able to tell myself I'm fine but what if I'm not
xoxoavenger · 3 days
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends
thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!
Ask Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
word count: 1099
warnings: none
part 1
birthday masterlist main masterlist
"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.
"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.
She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.
"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.
"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.
"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.
"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking. 
"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding. 
"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.
"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.
"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.
"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.
"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.
"Yeah," She confirms.
"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.
"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.
"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.
"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.
"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.
"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.
"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.
"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.
"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.
"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.
"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.
"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.
"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"
"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.
"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.
"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.
"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.
"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.
"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.
"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.
"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.
"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace  @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
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apollo-zero-one · 3 months
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Too old to be a kid too young to be an adult just the right age to cry myself to sleep
#every day I want to give up and go back to my mom's house and apologize for leaving#I'm still powerless here but this is unfamiliar. at least I knew what to expect there#I still had people to avoid and I still didn't want to leave my room but at least I knew I wouldn't be kicked out if I broke a rule#I'm so scared and so sad and I feel so small and so alone#all I want is a home that is mine that I can feel safe and secure in that I can retreat to that I can have power in#All I want is the safety ans security to take a break and to take care of myself#I want to be able to focus on my health for a little while my mental health is so so bad and my stupid brain has realized that I only get#help when it's visible so whenever my mental health gets bad like this I have these constant terrible urges to tear myself apart#The ideas are so vivid and so constant I want to tear my skin to ribbons and break all of my bones and gouge my eyes out and bite my tongue#I want to claw up my face and bite off my fingers and snap each of my ribs#I get phantom aches all over and my body is so tense and wound up and my heart beats so hard for hours and hours#I want to slam my head into a brick wall until something cracks and I hate myself I hate myself for this I hate myself for my selfishness#and for my weakness and for my existence and I want to vomit up my guts and I want my suffering to be real and treatable#I want someone to save me from myself. I want the pain to go away. But there isnt pain is there because its all in my head#I'm doing this to myself just like I have my entire goddamn life. My mom says I was born in pain and cried nonstop for a whole year. Then I#grew out of it and I was perfect. except no I wasn't because I wrote big long notes in phonetic spirals about how I deserve to die.#isn't that a sign?? Isnt that a sign?? i was born this way and things will never get any better they will only change and change and change#and still hurt in ways that I cant prove that I will second guess because maybe they aren't real and I'm just stupid useless helpless weak#when I bleed I can ask someone for a bandaid. when I... exist like this. I can't ask for anything. What helps? What helps? nothing really.#being useless helps until it doesn't. I have to work to pay for the chemicals that barely help. Why do innocent people die every day and not#me. when I pray for it. When I beg. And I'm not afraid to walk alone at night because NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO ME. Because I'm so lucky.#Soooo lucky. it isnt fair. She deserves it more than me. who? pick. anyone. Someone who wants it. Maybe who I could have been if I were#better. Not me. I dont get hurt. I dont get lost. I dont die. Maybe I cant maybe I never will. I'm more afraid of having to live like this.#My life is always on the line of not quite not quite and I never need help and I always need help and I'm never enough and I'm average.#the standard. the center. Above me dont need and below me do and I? What do I? both. neither. I shouldn't exist. It hurts to exist like this#in between. I should be able to do this myself. I'm the worst player on the best team and the best player on the worst and I don't fit in#either and everyone hates me for being one or the other and I can never be better so I want to be worse and thats my whole life in one#sentiment. I'm always at the bar and I can never get over it. I've been begging forever please lower your expectations I cant do better than#this. so I'll do worse. I'll make myself worse. I deserve it anyway. I'll be more scars than skin and more pain than person and then maybe#I'll belong somewhere god fucking knows even if its a padded room I could belong somewhere.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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WOOOHOOO YAAAAAY REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Request of the day with our lovely Mizu. Mizu and a shrine maiden reader. She stumbles into the shrine all bloodied and bruised and falls uncoincious and reader takes care of her. Mizu ends up staying for a longer while at the shrine, feeling pulled towards reader for saving her and wanting to thank her. Can be nsfw if you wanna!
I wrote shrine maidens before in other fandoms, it's always fun.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, fluff, kissing, gentle sex, injury recovery, fingering, slight corruption kink, nipple sucking, dirty talk
A/N: I think... I think I might have a corruption kink.
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Mizu was no stranger to crashing in abandoned houses and shrines when she was injured
On occasion they weren't abandoned but she always managed to work something out for a few days
You were the only shrine maiden there so she was sure you'd let an injured samurai stay there for a bit
Except you insisted on her staying there until she's fully healed
Mizu tried to push your hands away when you wanted to clean her wounds. "I'm fine. I should already be on my way. I've taken enough of your time already." And put you in enough danger by staying here. It was a risk to host a demon samurai, but you felt it would be a bigger risk to her if she left.
"You're not healed yet. If you walk away from here and then die I will pull your soul back and scold you for it." Mizu laughed, her eyes joyful behind her glasses.
"My bad. Would you really pull me from Hell just for that?" What a question, of course you would. You weren't scared of her now, much less if she were a ghost. Besides since she trusted you with her secret you didn't think she'd be an evil ghost.
She's not sure if staying with you longer was good for her
For her health yes, but not not so much for her heart because the more time she spent with you, helping you around the shrine, watching you, enjoying means with you the less she looked forward to leaving
Now she knew she would eventually, she won't give up on her mission
But she thinks she may allow herself to call this place home, to call you home
The first kiss you share makes her cry, knowing it will hurt that much more when she goes traveling again, it may not be in a few months, maybe a year from now but it will surely hurt
"What about staying here forever. Don't you like it here?" You asked as you cuddled against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. She sighed when she pulled you up and kissed your cheek.
"I do like it here. I like you even more. Which is why I'm dreading leaving here." You knew it was a hard choice to make but at he same time you were grateful that she considered staying here for even longer then usual. When ever she kissed you it was one kiss more then she ever gave to anyone else. When her hands shifted to your bare skin it was with more love then she touched someone with for a long time.
Mizu loved quiet nights with you, spent slowly kissing you, drinking in your moans and sighs and teasing you when you pull away from her touch out of shyness. You want to give yourself to her fully, yet you're scared of making her eventual leaving even more difficult.
She was very gentle when she first made love to you, so gentle and patient, looking at you like you were a goddess
Also she managed to find a loophole to save your virtue, that your god cared so much about apparently
If you told her you couldn't give yourself to a man well then it was a good thing she wasn't a man at all, she was a demon
A demon who managed to charm and corrupt a shire maiden
Maybe you do have a slightly lesser chance of going to Heaven after all, but at least Mizu will have good company in the afterlife now
Mizu kissed your breasts with glee as you eased yourself on her two fingers. "I'm sorry I don't have anything bigger for you but for your first time I think this is enough. Or would you prefer demon cock?"
"I prefer you. Just you Mizu." You cup her cheeks and kiss her lips, feeling how hot they are, how contrasted from her cold looking eyes. "I want you." You moaned shamelessly as you felt her fingers curl inside you when she moved them in and out. "I love you." You confessed as you had a hundred times before, only this time it sounded so sinful. That was a given because it was layered with continuous wet, sloshing, slapping sounds of her hand smacking between your legs and into your dripping cunt.
"I never knew that shrine maidens were so slutty. Or is it that," Her lips kissed your breasts, directly over your heart, fully letting herself worship you, "you were just waiting for someone like me to wander in here and corrupt this pure soul of yours. Just listen to how your cunt wants it." Your legs shook when her fingers pressed along your front wall, making your hips jerk in her lap. "I-" She waited, bit back her confession, words that she had yet to say.
"Love you." You finished for her, repeating the phrase until you shook in her lap, flooding her hand and fingers, tightening around them as you kept riding them while holding onto her muscular shoulders.
"I love you." Mizu confessed at the height of your orgasm, when your moans and whimpers could cover it up. When she didn't have to think about it and could focus on the pleasure she gave you. She didn't have to think about it. Not yet.
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lees-chaotic-brain · 7 months
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For You (Gojo x Reader)
What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?
CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst
Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
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Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.
But that was before.
Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.
Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.
Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.
Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.
"Well, this is an interesting development."
Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.
"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."
"Who are you?"
You snarl, glaring at your former friend.
"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."
"Bull. Shit."
All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.
"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"
"Satoru."
Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.
"You need to run."
No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.
You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.
"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."
Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.
"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."
He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.
Then you spoke again.
"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."
Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.
"I'm scared."
He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.
"I'm not."
Your tone is gentle and loving.
"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"
Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.
"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."
Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.
Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.
But he did it.
For your many (unofficially) adopted children.
For your shared dream.
For you.
Always for you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!
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cosmiicfairy · 2 years
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🗑
#i really hate what being in the hospital did to me#The first hypertensive crisis i was scared but mostly okay. i stopped panicking after a week#The second one? Okay now I'm lokwy freaking out and obsessively checking my blood pressure but i didn't go to the hospital#The stomach probelms tbat sent me to the ER? that's what did me in#Ever since that visit i have been so fucking hyper paranoid that i feel like i can barely function at times#Every time something feels even /slightly/ off i start to panic and catastrophize what could be wrong#I'm so scared of being sick and dying and I'm so scared of people not believing me and blaming my symptoms on anxiety#Which might be true but i don't know#i hate the way i can literally feel my heart beating and how every few minutes it feels like it's beating too fast#I hate that I'm so aware of it when i never was before the adderall#ii just want to be healthy but it's like every time i turn around for the last 6 months something else has been wrong#Two hypertensive crises. a stomach issue that was affecting my heart that landed me in the ER for a second time this year#Followed by two straight weeks of vertigo. an ear infection. and now possibly a uti or kidney infection#that's not even diving into what's going on woth my teeth#I'm so wound up and scared that i can barely do anything at all and I'm able to tell myself I'm fine but what if I'm not#I've been doing everything possible lately to change my life around. I'm down nearly 20 pounds and yet month after month it's something new#i don't know what to do. i don't have the money for doctors. i don't have the pto. i just want to be healthy why am i constantly sick
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luveline · 8 months
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is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?
tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k
"You have to let me see him." 
"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 
You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 
"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 
"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 
When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 
"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 
The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 
His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 
And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 
It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.
None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 
You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 
You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  
Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 
"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 
"When?" you ask. 
"You were yelling." 
Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 
"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 
"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 
"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 
"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 
Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."
"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 
"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 
You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 
The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 
"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 
He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 
"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 
You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 
You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  
Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 
"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 
"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 
"Sorry for scaring you." 
You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 
Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 
"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 
Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 
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steddiewithachance · 6 months
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Vampire Pancakes
A response to this writing prompt. Thought it was too cute, had to write it! @dwobbitfromtheshire
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No one really knows what to do with Eddie right now. Everyone is jittery around him, going so far as to hold their breath when he so much as twitches. Even Dustin is squinting at him with calculating eyes; he's analyzing Eddie for threat.
Eddie will continue to courteously ignore the hand that Nancy is keeping stationed on her belt conveniently close to the little pistol everyone knows she's hiding. It doesn't matter that Eddie helped them kill Vecna, or that he saved Baby Byers' life. It doesn't matter when he has sharp teeth, dark eyes, and a thirst for blood. He can't blame 'em for being scared.
Eddie thinks about his dad. Wonders if even Al would see Eddie as a monster now.
Eddie got picked on a lot as a kid and he'd often come home from school tired and weepy. Al would look up from the couch in that black tank top he always wore. He'd set down whatever he was smoking to pat the spot next to him.
"What happened Ed? Was some little shithead mean to ya?"
Eddie would nod and slump into his father's side, eyes burning from the spicy, smokey air. When Eddie pressed his face into his dad's arm, Al would pull back and pat his head with sorrowful eyes. Al didn't really know how to comfort a kid or maybe he thought that being distant was in Eddie's best interest.
"You're too soft, Ed. Ya gotta make those kids think you can pack a punch. Chin up, eyes mean, shoulders back. Make 'em intimidated, make 'em fear ya."
So like any kid who thinks their dad's word is law, Eddie listened, or tried his best at least. But his dad never said that mean eyes, dark clothes, and loud music would get him accused of witchcraft by a bunch'a angry jocks and chased straight into hell.
Now his sheepies -his kiddos- are looking at him like they're scared, like they can't trust him and that is a fucking gut punch. Because pretty early on in his high school career, he decided that his purpose was gonna be standing as a shield for other kids like him. He wanted to be a source of safety and warmth in an otherwise cold and unforgiving storm.
Being feared is lonely and sad, Eddie has discovered, and he worries this is his new permanent reality.
Eddie quietly sits through his friends hammering out the logistics of a nighttime schedule to organize sleeping shifts so someone always has an eye on him. It's sick. Eddie has to excuse himself to cry about it. He has no uncontrollable urges to eat anyone here, Steve does smell appetizing, but he wouldn't jump the guy.
He can still eat human food apprently, it barely does anything for him, but it's something. Eddie thinks it's enough to quell any feral urges he may or may not get. He thinks the party is being unreasonable about their safety precautions, but really, he'd probably do the same if there was a monster in the same house as him.
🥞🫐
It's a long night, he can't fall asleep but he'll pretend to so that everyone can relax a little. The changing of the guard chafes at him and makes his lip quiver. He bites his lip to prevent a wounded sound from slipping out when Robin nudges Steve awake and says it's "his turn on hell shift". Eddie jolts because he remembers he has real sharp teeth now, and biting his lip does, in fact, hurt like a bitch.
"You're not asleep, huh?" He hears whispered into the air of the big living room after Robin has settled back into sleep. It's Steve's sweet and melodic voice.
"I'm trying." He responds, brokenly.
"Wanna get some fresh air with me for a minute? I need'a smoke." Steve is already shrugging the sheets off of him and carefully stepping over his sleeping friends towards the back door. Eddie doesn't think he has a choice, but to follow. Stepping out of this stuffy room does sound like a relief though.
Eddie makes the same journey through the sea of teenagers sprawled across Steve's floor and out the sliding glass door. When he steps onto the patio, all of the crickets stop chirping around him. The night goes silent. What the fuck? Is that because of him? He loves the sound of crickets, though.
He walks over and curls up in one of the Harringtons' fancy-loungy-pool-chairs. Steve stays standing, leaning artfully against the side of his house next to the glass. He flicks open his lighter and the small flame illuminates his square jawline with a warm glow. He's so achingly handsome. He's like a movie star, or a model.
"You okay?" Steve asks conversationally.
"Not even a little."
Steve sighs and pushes off the wall to walk towards Eddie's chair. He sits at the foot of it and swivels so he's looking at Eddie.
"I'm really sorry Eddie. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling. I won't pretend to." Steve sets a hand on Eddie's ankle and Eddie could cry from the small gesture of comfort that he's practically writhing for. "I feel like what happened to you is all my fault. I know that 'sorry' wont cut it, but for the record, I am. Completely and utterly sorry." That's a silly thing to think.
"It's not your fault, are you kidding? How do you reckon it's your fault?"
"Sending you with Dustin? Alone? Putting all that responsibility on you?" Steve looks down at his cigarette with disgust. He twists it into the cold concrete next to his socked foot and looks back at Eddie. There's no fear in his expression, and for once Eddie is grateful for his reckless bravery.
"It was the best plan and we all agreed to it. Don't sweat it, Harrington." Eddie feels like he's not all there. Feels like maybe if he was more composed he could comfort Steve better, but he's hungry and dazed, sad and tired. Steve nods solemnly, and clears this throat.
"And about everyone being kind of on edge... It'll pass. I think they're all thinking about when Billy Hargrove got possessed by the mind flayer and went homicidal on us. He tried to kill all the kids."
Eddie desperately wants to hear all the other Upside down stories one day. He keeps trying to stitch together all these scraps of lore that keep getting dropped on him. He has no right to ask about something so traumatic, so he'll just be patient and wait for more lore to drop.
"Everyone's just being cautious. Vecna's dead though, so I'm not really sure who they think would possess you." Steve finishes and squeezes Eddie's lower calf where his hand rests.
"I get it. Kinda hurts my feelings, but I get it." Eddie mumbles and feels his eyes getting heavy. He wonders if he could fall asleep out here. Maybe if the crickets were still chirping and it wasn't so goddamn quiet.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." It's fine, this might not even be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.
🥞🫐
In the morning Eddie curls himself into Steve's little kitchen nook. Eddie kind of loves the window seat, it's something his mom would have wanted, Eddie theorizes. She was always looking out windows, probably daydreaming about escaping. Eddie does it too.
The kids seem warmer this morning. There's no more hushed whispers or pointed looks. They're talking and moving around the house less cautiously. Hopefully, the stiffest interactions and the worst of their distrust is behind them. Nancy's still watching him like a hawk though.
Steve shuffles into view, his socks are bunched up around his ankles. It's cute.
He holds out a plate for Eddie with a dumb smile on his face. When Eddie reaches for it, he sees a stack of pancakes and the top pancake has a little face made out of blueberries and two whipped cream fangs. It's a vampire pancake. Steve made Eddie a sweet little vampire pancake.
"Oh my god, you're so adorable." Eddie squeaks and makes a grabby hand for the fork Steve's holding. Steve blushes and hands over the fork.
"Do you like it?" Steve asks coyly. The pancakes feel like a hug, they feel like an apology that Steve doesn't even owe.
"I love it, chef." Eddie pokes at the pancake-vampire's cheek. "I don't know if I can eat him. He's too cute." Eddie giggles. Steve looks up at him with bright sparkly eyes. God he's perfect. Eddie's hungry for him in five different ways.
Robin and Dustin come up beside Steve to look down at the plate.
"I want one!" Dustin announces loudly. Steve turns around and heads back to the stove, he looks so proud of himself.
"You can have normal pancakes. Those are special for Eddie." Steve says with a wink. Dustin looks down at Eddie and pouts at him as if Eddie has any say in who gets what kind of pancake.
"Dustin had to watch it all happen, he should get one too." Eddie tells Steve earnestly while Steve is pouring more batter into the pan.
Dustin gloats and yells "Exactly! Thank you, Eddie."
And it feels like things are gonna be okay.
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842 notes · View notes
hijackalx · 4 months
Note
I need a breeding fic with Gortash. like him putting you in a mating press and just saying nasty shit like "give me a baby boy" or "your ganna have so many of my fucking babies" holy shit I'm ganna faint he's so mmfg
I WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR U BUT IT TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY 😭😭💗 also i hope u like spit cuz i saw the opportunity and took it SORRYYYY 😹😹
WORD COUNT: 1.6K
UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, breeding kink, spit, mating press position, some degradation and praise, dom!gortash, you’re basically his baby-making machine, he refers to reader as ‘woman’ and ‘girl’
Gortash doesn't do anything without planning first. He's always a step ahead; he knows what the future holds because he decides it.
And sometimes you wonder where you belong in his grand scheme. What does he have in store for you? All of his meddling behind the scenes— he’s a puppet master, playing your unsuspecting figure by the strings of his jeweled fingers.
It would be sensible to ask, but like a true visionary, he isn’t keen on being questioned. He'll blow you off as sweetly as he can, cradling your face and assuring you that you needn’t worry about such things. Despite his facade, you can tell it bothers him; you can see the irritation behind his gaze.
You'll admit, it can be a little intimidating being with someone like him, simply because you never know just how much of your relationship he's manipulated and plotted into fruition. You're stumbling around in the dark, clinging to his wrist for stability while forgetting that he blindfolded you in the first place.
When the next stepping stone of his intricate plan is revealed, you feel it's all too obvious. You realize the crucial part you play, and how integral it was that he didn't scare you off. No doubt you were plucked from a plethora of suitors, carefully considered for your purpose. You think you should feel flattered.
You lay on the silk sheets of his bed, spread open and waiting. Your bare skin is soft and scented, a flame spreading over the surface as you watch him approach. He crawls over top of you, the mattress giving with each movement. You swallow at his looming presence, how he locks you between his strong arms.
Thumb coming up to tease your bottom lip, he leaves a lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth.
"I'm going to make you the most valuable woman in Faerûn." He smiles before rocking back on his knees. Another kiss is left on your ankle as he props your legs against his broad shoulders. "Isn't that right?"
His features are gentle but his eyes are dark— intense. You can tell this is something he's been waiting for, something he's been heavily anticipating. You wonder how you were never able to pick up on his faltering restraint before; he looks like he's wound as tightly as he can be.
His tip plays at your entrance, smearing precum against your heat. You throb, aching for him, but you can tell by his smirk and the slight tilt to his head that he's waiting for a response.
You nod readily. With that, he angles and inserts himself into you. Gasping, your fingers bunch up the fabric beneath you as he stretches you out inch by inch. "Gods..." you mutter at the feeling of his cock slipping past your walls.
You stare at his face while he watches how your pussy strains around him, admiring how his thick, black hair hangs from his forehead, how the corners of his sloped nose crinkle slightly; the concentrated furrow to his brow, and the small parting to his lips. You did get lucky, didn't you?
Out of all the men who'd want you to carry their child, you were picked by him; a powerful man, body and mind, who is certain to pass on his traits through you.
You struggle to take him in further, the width near his base stretching your opening uncomfortably. Without hesitation, he cups his hands under your knees and pushes them to your chest, resting his weight onto you. He manipulates your figure on instinct— as if it's his, as if he owns you.
Your body is forcibly spread deeper, allowing him to sink into you the rest of the way. The new position almost takes the breath out of you, eliciting a surprised whimper from your lips.
He sighs contently as he fills you fully, the warmth of your needy pussy engulfing his cock. He finally starts to move his hips, rocking you on the mattress as your wet cunt squelches around him.
You gaze up at him through your knees, watching his lip curl at how tightly you grip him. "Fuck," he hisses. "You're perfect. Fucking perfect," he almost seems to be muttering to himself, his eyes unable to break away from where you two meet between your thighs.
He picks up the pace, his heavy balls hitting you with every thrust. You leave behind bits of your essence in his hair, the slick coating his ebony strands.
His hand releases one of your legs to snatch you by your jaw. The aggression catches you off guard, and for a moment you wonder if you've upset him. Under lowered brows, he grins.
"You're going to be my personal little broodmare," he laughs breathily before interrupting himself with a grunt. "And you'll give me as many baby boys as I want— won't you, sweet girl?"
His fingertips leave indents in your skin, and he appears too distracted by pleasure to know how rough he's being. Still, you don't mind— men with gentle hands don't sit on thrones. "M-mhm," you do your best to respond under his hold.
He slips his thumb between your lips, pressing down on your tongue. He coerces your mouth open until it's fully extended, staring down at you.
"Yeah? You like the way that sounds?"
His nail digs deeper into your tongue with every second you take to answer, his expression bordering on wicked. Unable to speak, you nod vigorously.
The corner of his mouth pulls upward, his brows lifting briefly. "I thought you might," he says before leaning over you, encasing your body in his shadow. Without warning, a quick wad of spit comes flying out onto your tongue. "Whore."
The warm substance lands and spreads over your tastebuds. Only after he admires how it looks in your mouth does he release you. He stares down at you expectantly, so you hold his gaze and swallow.
As he watches your throat bob, you feel his cock twitch inside you, a low groan vibrating in his chest.
Your body writhes with want beneath him, with need. You feel the way your cunt repeatedly tightens around him, trying to draw out his orgasm.
He can feel it too, and you know he won't last much longer. Soon he'll be filling you full of his cum— again, and again, and again— ensuring that, without a doubt, you'll be pregnant. You'll carry his heirs, securing his rulership with his bloodline.
You never saw yourself as mere breeding stock before. And you most certainly never saw yourself enjoying the thought of it. It sends a surge of heat through your body, a tremble through your limbs. You yearn to be of use to him— to his success.
"P-please," you stutter, gripping his bicep tightly. "Come inside of me. I need you to come, please—" Your words come out quickly and almost incoherent, stumbling over your own burning desire. You need to feel his thick, white seed lacing your walls.
He almost coos at how ready you are for him. "Fuck, I love hearing you talk like that."
His hand slips down the back of your thigh so that his thumb can toy with your clit. His touch isn't the softest, and it makes your sensitive body jolt with every rub. Still, the timing of it has you questioning if he's rewarding you for your begging. You wouldn't put it past him to condition you that way, so that your cunt's always desperate to be filled.
He places his hands on either side of your head, hooking your legs over his elbows. His face is now inches from yours, and you can see the lustful haze over his stare. It's dark, almost wolfish, but it only excites you.
You're so ready for him to finish, just so he can do this all over again.
You wrap your arms over his muscular shoulders, holding onto him while he fucks you. Your body is at his mercy in your vulnerable position, completely pliant to his every whim. You almost shiver at the thought— not from unease, but arousal. Your eyes flutter shut.
The bed creaks with his tempo, mirroring the needy movement of his hips. His breathing is uneven and wavering by your ear, accompanied by the occasional grunt or moan. The sounds of his pleasure send a wave of excitement through you, and you can tell by the rapid snaps of his pelvis that he's close.
Your voice evolves into whimpers as you feel his orgasm approaching, anticipating being filled with a steady stream of cum. With a hiss through gritted teeth, he slams into you hard, pumping white ropes into your cunt. You rhythmically tighten around him, milking him for every last drop.
The feeling of him filling you up makes your limbs buzz with exhilaration, and the knot in your core finally snaps. You tear and claw at his back while he ungracefully rides out his own orgasm, pushing his seed into you further and further.
After his final sloppy thrusts, his body stills. He rests above you, the arms supporting him tense and slightly weary. His breaths fan your cheek, warm and ragged, indicative of his high. You would almost think he was spent, if it weren’t for the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out of you.
You focus on the way his cum settles inside you, threatening to leak. It’s so much— you find it hard to imagine fitting more. Still, he smiles down at you with an endearing obstinance that says he’ll find a way.
You realize you’re in for a long night.
570 notes · View notes
atxxzist · 25 days
Text
sweetest lies | c.s (03)
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prev // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 7.7k
warning: none but lmk
you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.
look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.
but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.
you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"
the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.
you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.
"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.
but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.
"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.
"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."
you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.
there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.
"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.
you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.
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you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.
how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.
which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.
she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.
it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.
dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.
fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.
“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”
the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.
“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”
“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.
you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.
“shut up. you know what i mean.”
“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.
“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.
you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.
“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”
between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.
but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.
“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.
seonghwa snickers.
“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.
he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.
you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.
“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”
because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.
“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.
you snicker lowly.
“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”
he shrugs.
"that's your choice."
but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.
the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.
you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.
you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.
"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.
“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.
“pardon?”
“i’m sorry, about this morning.”
it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.
it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.
san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.
but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.
"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.
"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."
he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.
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there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.
know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.
there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.
and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.
"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.
you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.
"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.
you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.
he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.
"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.
because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.
how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.
if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.
you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.
and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.
you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.
it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.
and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.
you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.
one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.
"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."
he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.
he wouldn't want to lose you over this.
you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.
"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."
because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.
"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.
"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."
he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.
nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.
"i hope you're taking care of yourself."
you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.
"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."
you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.
and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.
"where would you be transferring?"
"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."
plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.
"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.
"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.
you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.
"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.
"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."
"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.
"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."
yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.
he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.
"apology accepted," he says.
you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.
"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."
you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.
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it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.
san: yunho told me
san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?
you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.
y/n: he really be snitching, huh
san: so it's true ☹️
you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.
y/n: maybe 🤷
san: 😔
san: just when we were starting to get along too
y/n: lol. you'll be fine.
shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.
ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.
san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away
y/n: i'm not
y/n: i just want to do something different
san: if you say so
san: you free this evening?
y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours
san: wanna do something? 🙂
y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃
san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction
you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.
y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work
san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉
--
it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.
it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.
"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.
"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."
you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.
"i had to get out of my work outfit."
he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.
"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.
"stew sounds really good right now," you say.
"soft tofu stew?"
"that's fine. but make it spicy."
you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.
"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.
"got any sodas?"
"i got some coke."
"that'll do."
he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.
"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.
"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.
"fair enough," he mumbles.
you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"
he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.
"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."
you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.
"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."
"yeah. it cost a fortune."
"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.
"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.
"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.
he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"
you scoff and shake your head.
you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.
“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”
you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.
"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"
"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."
you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.
growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.
"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.
"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."
"but why?" he pushes.
you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.
"i told you i wanted to travel."
"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.
you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.
he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.
"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.
"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.
you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."
you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.
"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."
your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.
"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.
"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"
"shut up," you hiss.
as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.
the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.
and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.
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tuesday 4:32 p.m.
san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂
san: *attachment*
y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive
y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person
it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.
getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.
you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.
san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄
y/n: i'm just looking
y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself
san: 😢
you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).
wednesday 1:20 p.m.
san: what time do you finish work today
y/n: i always finish at 6
san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂
y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare
san: ☹️
san: it's not
san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle
y/n: 🥱
san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.
something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.
"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.
"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.
he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.
"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.
"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.
you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.
"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.
"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."
"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"
he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.
"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.
"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."
"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.
on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.
"and you don't think it's nice?"
"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."
san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.
"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.
"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.
you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.
"you scared?" he tease.
"what? no," you blow.
"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.
"what kind of questions though?"
it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."
you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.
fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.
"oh fuck, it's me."
it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."
"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."
you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.
"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"
he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.
"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."
he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."
a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.
"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."
"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."
you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.
and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.
"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.
"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.
"don't ask questions that will break your heart."
"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."
"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.
"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."
"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."
"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.
"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.
"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.
"what did you think of me when we first met?"
you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.
"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."
he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.
the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.
"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"
and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.
"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."
the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.
"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.
"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.
"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."
it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.
"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."
it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.
"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.
"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.
"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.
"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."
"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.
"then i would be really upset."
you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.
"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.
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some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.
the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.
it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.
he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.
but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.
are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?
that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.
he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.
which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.
but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.
"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.
he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.
"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"
"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.
two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.
it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.
"wow. already?"
"yeah."
san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.
he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?
tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.
you think you're losing it.
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you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.
though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.
when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.
you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.
you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.
despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.
after all, what does he owe you?
you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.
but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.
long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.
“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”
you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.
his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.
“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.
it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.
then it's as if everything was a mistake.
choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.
your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.
you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.
so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.
you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.
because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?
everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.
your parents, yunho and your sister, san...
you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.
you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.
san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me
y/n: something came up sorry
y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan
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a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr
taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny
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oncloudten · 1 year
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you inhale deeply, lightly patting your wound with a washcloth. there really shouldn't be any reason for mindy's voice to be ringing over in your head "be careful with him." she'd told you before you left to go back to your boyfriend's dorm, seeing as your apartment had turned into a crime scene. the drive there had been in complete silence, save for ethan occasionally checking in on you. it's been silent between the two of you since you'd seen him, truthfully.
it's silly, really. to even think about it. especially considering the implications of what it would mean to you. to your relationship. shrugging off whatever ill-intended thoughts that swarm your mind, you glance towards your boyfriend. and yet you can't help the worry and suspicion that settles like a weight in your chest.
ethan must have noticed the way you're staring at him, because the next thing he says takes you by surprise. "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks quietly. "do you think i'm the killer, too?"
you can't prevent the underlying tone of worry in your voice when you finally muster up the courage to reply, you don't even know what you've said until you hear the sound of your own voice ringing back in your ears. "i don't know what to think," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "it's just- it's... you keep disappearing every time something happens. where were you, e? i needed you with me. and you weren't there. i was stabbed- i lost anika. my best friend died infront of me and you weren't there."
ethan's face is a mask of cold anger, though the softness you've been familiar to for the past year still glimmering in his eyes. "i told you angel, i was at econ. and i'm telling you again, i didn't do it. you have to believe me."
"after everything that's happened... after last year with sam- i'm just not sure what to think anymore. with everything that they're saying... i just-" you pause, cutting yourself off. this isn't even a conversation you want to be having right now.
a long beat passes before ethan speaks up. "they? who is they? mindy? anika? tara? i'm so tired of being accused of being the killer. what's to say those bitches aren't the killers themselves? huh?" although he keeps his composure, his tone is laced with venom. you've never heard him talk like this before.
"i just feel like i don't even know who you are anymore." you whisper, letting go of what you had held back from saying a moment before.
"that's a shame," he says, leaning in closer to you. his tone completely different, it's as if something had shifted in him within a few seconds. "because i feel like i know you better than anyone. in fact, i know everything about you. your fears, your desires, your weaknesses...all of it."
"that's...unsettling," you say, pulling away from him.
"oh, come on," a grin spreads over his face, his tone dripping with implication. "don't tell me you don't find it a little bit exciting. the idea that someone knows you so intimately, someone who's willing to do anything to be with you..." he trails off, his eyes darkening. "it's kind of romantic, don't you think?"
"no, it's not," you say, voice shaking. "it's sick. i don't like the way you're talking to me, ethan. you're scaring me."
"am i?" ethan says in a low scoff, barely audible. "you should be scared, sweetheart. you have no idea what i'm capable of."
you can barely register what he's saying. is this some sick twisted game to him? is he being his usual sarcastic self? surely not- not after what you just went through. your mind is drowning in endless vivid images of your boyfriend brutally murdering innocent people, your friends, your loved ones. this is the man who you've spent every sleepless night with for a year now, the man who you've devoted yourself to in every way possible, and in his own words, a man who knows you so intimately- in ways which you don't even know yourself. "what are you going to do?"
"nothing, as long as you behave." a twisted smile spreads across his face as he eyes your wound, his voice so low. "though that says otherwise, hmm?" he laughs. he actually laughs. "believe me, i never meant for it to happen, princess. but you just had to try and protect anika, and i thought you were mindy- god how i wish it had been that bitch. though i figure she got her warning."
you can't speak. it's as if every fiber of your being has shut down. ethan reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and you let him. you know you should be screaming, shoving him away, running even. but you don't do any of those things. instead, you stare at your boyfriend as he towers over you, accepting the fact that any second now he'd make a move to hurt you. but ethan let's out a soft chuckle when he takes in the expression plastered over your face. "oh my sweet dumb thing. i love you, remember? i'd never hurt you. don't worry, baby. i'd sooner die before i let anything happen to you ever again."
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Just a "lil" silly request but can I request a werewolf! Miguel with Kitsune! Reader. Probably some wholesome hcs or a story with them with their newly born children. It's up to you if you wanna add some soft lewd into it or not.
A/N: this sounds kinda cute
Werewolf!Miguel x Kitsune(fox)Reader!
When the two of you first met, you were laying in the middle of the forest, injured. You were in fox form and had gotten into a hunter's trap. You managed to escape and ran far, entering your human form and laying against a tree trunk, nursing your injured ankle.
You were suspectable to predators, considering you were a bit smaller and hardly know how to defend yourself. You bring leaves to surround yourself to mask the scent of your blood, hoping it'll work. It worked for awhile as you tended to your ankle, turning into your fox form to lick your wound and whimper. Unfortunately, there was one nose that had a good sense of smell. A wolf.
You could smell the strong scent from nearly a smile away, and it was closing in quick. You attempted to run out of sheer panic, but your injured foot slowed you down. Soon, you came face to face with the large predator. He loomed over you, wind rustling his blue fur, red eyes fixated on you. You cowered to the ground, ears flat against your head, making noise of distress as he inched closer.
You shut your eyes when his wet nose sniffed you, and yelped when his teeth dug gently into your scruff and lifted you up off the ground. He carried you to his den, and you noticed he was a lone wolf. You kept trembling, whimpering, scared that these were your last moments. Up until he laid you down on his nest and shifted into his human form.
The wolf stood at 6'9, body hairy and muscles rippling. "It's okay," he said gently, squatting down, reaching out a hand to scratch the spot behind your ear, "I'm not going to hurt you."
He's a wolf. A lone wolf at that. He could hurt you. But his eyes were gentle, even if his expression remained neutral. So, you shifted back into your human form, covering your bare breasts. That night, the wolf-named Miguel-tended your foot and brought you bird to eat.
From there, a relationship blossomed.
In fox form, you laid on his back as he trudged through the thick brush of the forest, hunting down meek prey or going to a lake to bathe. You quite enjoyed relaxing on his huge body in both animal form and human form. He was big, warm, and inviting. He never minded the company either. He quite enjoyed having you around.
Miguel one day brought you the pelt of a elk, presenting it as a gift, as a way of asking for you to me his mate. Which you accepted and worn it in your human form.
Miguel became extra protective once you became his mate. He growled if anything came near the cave or walked too close to you, looking out for any threats.
As humans, he hugged you close, littering you in kisses, adoring you.
The sex? Holy fuck. You two only fucked in human form, and boy, did Miguel go crazy. Especially when he fell into a rut. He fucked you for hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, and once he's knotted, he'll calm own long enough to tend to you, right before his mind is overrun in lust and he obliterates your pussy.
He always took care of you after, especially after his ruts. Miguel felt bad for putting you through that, but you enjoyed it. Told him he had no reason to worry, but he always worried. You were precious to him, and he the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
Then you fell pregnant and he was all over you. Making sure you ate enough food, brought you enough water, stood guard at the entrance of the cave and scaring anything away. You gave birth to two kids, a boy and a girl, and you loved them so much. They were hybrids, a mix of a fox and wolf.
Miguel praised you for doing a wonderful job for the labor, and made sure you recovered from the long labor. He took good care of his family, even deciding to merge into human society. The kids had to get used to staying in human form and going to school, and you staying at home to be a dutiful house wife, and Miguel getting a job.
It was a rough transition, but you guys managed.
Sometimes you wondered how that day would've gone differently. The day you were injured. If Miguel either ate you or never found you, or if you never got injured. Would life be the same? Different? So many possibilities, but as you did dishes, staring out the window to watch the children play, you smile.
Miguel comes up behind you and hugs you, kissing your neck. "What are you thinking about, my love?"
You turn around and hug him, sighing softly. "Nothing, my love." You squeal when he spins you around and drowns you in kisses, swatting at his chest when you got water on your brand new clothes.
Yeah, life is great.
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autumn-hiraeth · 9 months
Note
Hi love! Some fluff with Hobie when you had a situation with him for a while but u end it because u wanted something stable and then one night he came to your apartment all beaten up and as you started to clean him up he explain that he's spiderman and wants a commitment relationship even if it scares him? <3
Hi, sweetie! ♡ hope you like it!
Hobie brown x reader
Just fluff. Headcanons.
a/n: i wanna be his gf so badly.
You can find more here “Hobie's masterlist”
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You sigh satisfied when you finish your skin routine, now you can go to bed and rest.
However, when you are finally falling asleep, you hear several knocks on your window. And your heart races 'cause you know someone who used to do that when you two were together.
You squeeze your eyes shut, nah, it can't be him, that ended months ago. Hobie would be a complete dickhead if he dared to...
“ know you're awake luv! need your help"
You can't help but get butterflies over the pet name and you scold yourself for feeling that way and for being so silly to let him into your room.
“Hobart, what the hell are y..?!” your eyes widen when you see his pretty face all beaten up and even though you want to curse him for coming, you hold him in your arms to leave him on the edge of your bed.
"Just stay here" you ask before going in search of the first-aid kit to patch him up. Hobie sighs, his heart pounding, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't missed you, in fact, there's not a day that Hobie Brown doesn't think of you. You are what he longs for the most and maybe tonight with some luck you will be able to be his again, 'cause Hobie is still yours like the first day he kissed you.
As soon as you get to his side, you don't hesitate to hold his jaw so you can see his wounds and Hobie smiles seeing you so worried about him, so without saying a word he lets you patch him up, your soft and delicate hands touch him carefully and Hobie loves it, he doesn't even care how much it hurts.
You are his anesthesia, you make him feel better. " You need to take off your shirt" you say and Hobie raises an eyebrow making you blush. "Don't start, Hobie" you tell him and he pouts, because he knows you love when he does, whenever he pouted it ended in a heaten making out (Have you seen those pretty lips?)
"I didn't even say anything luv" he raises his hands in defense before taking off his shirt and he smiles pleased when you look at him, your eyes wandering over his torso, but before he makes fun of you, you speak: "I've always wondered how you get your ass kicked like this." You kneel between his legs so you can tend to the wound in his side and Hobie bites his tongue to keep from saying what he's thinking as you kneel in front of him... He can remember all those times he put you on your kneels, not only to patch him up.
Instead Hobie says “it's just because I'm Spider-Man” you stop cleaning up his wound and look at him, your mouth is slightly open and Hobie thinks that maybe you're going to get a little hysterical from the way you're looking at him but you raise your fist in the air in victory and mutter; “ I knew it! I just needed you to confirm, but we “broke up” so …” You shrug, going back to your work and Hobie holds up your chin for you to look at.
"I never meant to lie to you Y/n" you nod murmuring a soft; “I know”
“ aren't you mad?”
“ why? For you being Spiderman? Nah”
"I didn't mean to hurt you either" the way he says it's genuine and maybe it's because his fingers are caressing your jaw that you suddenly want to kiss him, but Hobie speaks again: "it's I just got scared" he confesses and you frown "I don't like commitments, I hate them, but you make me want to commit to you" he finally said it, it's not that he never wanted something stable with you, it's just that he's too scared and you understand that.
And you love that he tells you how he feels.
Even if it took five months.
You remove his hand from your jaw and sit on his lap, his hands wrapping your waist as he caress your bare skin under your long T-shirt. But his eyes are focused on you, he doesn't know what you'll say but he expects you to accept it but all his fears are dispelled when you put your soft lips against his. “I wanted to tell ya but I didn't know how” he murmurs against your lips “I never meant to hurt you Y/n” you nod softly, your hands caressing his bare shoulders enjoying the feel of his lips again.
"don't ever hide anything from me again Hobie" you mumble and he nods "yes ma'am" you kiss him again before patching it up again but Hobie needs to know something else so he asks: "Luv, how did ya know I'm Spiderman?" "I'm a smart girl, aren't I?" you wink at him and he smiles.
Oh, but Hobie's going to find out, he only needs to convince you.
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thedarlingdearestdead · 7 months
Text
The Jedi Way P2:
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Yeah I got bored...
Summary: Anakin questions the war and his place in it, you interrupt him and try to calm him down, it does not work, he just gets wound up... And now we get to see the results. P1 here.
Warnings: SMUT. R18. Very sorry. M/F. Oral - female receiving. Semi-public.
Word count: 1,350
The anxiety and fear which had been bubbling up in you over the conversation fell in favour of a hot rush of passion, unfamiliar and uncontrolled. Your hands moved up to his face, thumbs grazing his cheekbones as he continued to press into you.
He was moving awfully fast. His hands going down from your hips and grabbing at you thighs like he wanted to pick you up right there, have you straddle him against the window.
You would almost let him.
This is where you should tell him no, this is where you should try to bring it to a stop, but you can’t find the words. Nor can you find the will.
Instead, you let him slide his hands into you tunic. Shivering slightly as the metal reaches across your bare back. You wanted to let him have you, you wanted to be his solace in his brooding, you wanted to give him anything he wanted. 
If you were certain this wouldn't destroy everything.
If you could convince yourself that this was nothing more than a random event of passion—
If you hadn't already lost control... 
You closed your eyes, and let him move his mouth and hands as he pleased, his teeth were playing at your neck, making you arch against him. This is what you've waited for all these years. Everything in your body urging you to take him, to give in. You could feel your entire being fill with want. With need. With Anakin.
All at once he pulled away and held you firmly in place. You gasped, confused and scared. For a second he just looked at you, and then he grinned. He turned back to the room for a moment, it was a calculated look, searching, analytical, desperate. But the two of you were truly alone. This reassurance was as much liberty as he needed to begin his work. 
He licked his lips and began to move slowly, exploring you, pressing your back against the glass. Your body tingled in anticipation, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage.
He undid the buttons of your top one by one, gently sliding the thin fabric down. As it parted, revealing your cleavage and its curve, the rest of your tunic seemed to hang loosely around your shoulders. With every button undone, you felt exposed, vulnerable, but eager to be touched.
He drew a path along your skin, pausing to trace each muscle that made up your body. You let your head fall forward, your argument and his anger long forgotten. His eyes were shining with want and hunger, his hands still on the last button.
Unbeknownst to you Anakin had wanted this for a long time, since you were children. He had been waiting for so long to have you in this way, alone and under him. And here it was.
He pressed his lips against your ear and whispered softly, "Trust me.”
The last button opened.
You inhaled sharply, your mind swimming with all kinds of thoughts and feelings. It's hard to describe, and harder still to comprehend. The way he kissed you, the way his fingers trailed along your skin, the way his breath hitched when he saw the smoothness of your torso. It's not a feeling you can put into words, not a feeling that you could ever describe, but it felt good.
You bit down on your lower lip, trying to contain the sound of pleasure escaping from your lips.
Anakin leaned back and took a deep breath, looking at the sight before him. "Beautiful..."
"What?" You asked, blinking and looking at him with a confused look on your face.
"You are beautiful. I've been wanting to tell you that for such a long time."
You blushed deeply and averted your gaze. "You shouldn't be having thoughts like that. We shouldn't be doing this." Your protest was weak however.
"I'm sorry." He apologized, bringing a hand up and cupping your face, turning it towards him. "I thought I told you to trust me?"
"Yes.."
"So trust me now." He leaned in and captured your lips, kissing you hungrily.
Your mind went blank, your heart beating faster. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Anakin removed the rest of your shirt and you started to undo the clasps of his belt. You gasped as his hand continued to move lower, stroking your stomach and tracing the outline of your hips. He moved downwards, caressing the inner side of your thighs. Your breathing became heavier, his lips brushing against your skin sending shivers throughout your body.
You moaned softly, biting down on your bottom lip.
"Such pretty noises" He said against your mouth before stepping back placing himself on one knee.
"Anakin." You breathed out.
"Shhh.." He whispered, kissing the skin below your belly button.
His touch felt incredible. It was different, exciting. He worked your trousers down slowly, eyes not moving from their target. 
Your breathing grew erratic, and you arched your back. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his nails biting into your flesh.
It felt good. It felt right.
The tension in the room increased with each passing moment. The window behind you was fogged up and you grew impossibly hot watching him. HIs dirty blonde hair was curled and tangled, bgging you to run your fingers through it. His eyes were half-lidded, staring at you, his expression hungry. He watched you, felt you build.
And just as you were, just as you were about to reach your high he stood, placing his mouth back on yours in a desperate starving manner. He was covered in your intoxicating taste. He was impatient now. You were too wound up to control your shaking fingers, he pushed them away to work at his belt himself.
"I've dreamt of you." He told you between kisses. "Of this." He groaned against your mouth, his hand working himself. "Of you."
And in that moment, you would give him anything. You would do anything for him. You would kill, you would die, you would burn the world. You would leave the order, destroy the council, forsake your vows, if he asked. You would do anything he asked.
He took the opportunity of your compliance, your surrender to push into you, bringing your legs up and finally getting his way against the window. You couldn't help but scream his name. Your head hitting the glass behind you as he filled you, stretching and burning.
"Tell me." He breathed into the crook of your neck.
"Please." You pleaded.
He didn't stop, his movements slow and deliberate. You felt him everywhere, his hands on your hips, his tongue on your neck, his chest against yours, his hair tickling your shoulder, his fingers entwined in yours, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. He was everywhere and it was almost too much.
You could feel the tension building, your body was on fire, your muscles tense, your skin tingling. You were close, so close.
You were moaning and groaning, arching your back and trying to meet his thrusts with what little purchase you could get. 
"Tell me." He growled in your ear, his voice rough.
"I love you." You sobbed.
He pulled back, his eyes dark and his breathing ragged.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
Anakin's mouth crashed down onto yours.
"Again." He demanded, his grip tightening.
"I love you."
He slammed his cock into you.
You could feel it, feel it building.
"One more time."
"I love you. Please."
He thrust hard and deep.
You cried out his name.
"Come for me."
The tension broke, The room erupted, You screamed. Your body shuddered and his hands tightened around yours, head resting on your shoulder as he shook along with you. 
You both fell soon after. You laid there in a tangle of limbs, gasping and panting, the sweat cooling on your skin. When he caught his breath, he smiled at you, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. “Are you ready to listen now?”
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ayyyez · 1 year
Note
Headcanons on shisui, minato, and Yamato on how they'd react to their s/o (civilian shinobi or otherwise:)) getting attacked and almost dying? 😭 need the agnst in my life rn I love ur work ur iconic uwu
A/N: the angsssst! but it's okay I love angst it's what I do haha but mostly as long as it has a happy ending because we deserve that as a treat as do they. And aw thanks sm!
TAGS: angst, reader attacked/almost dies, sad characters, mini scenarios rather than headcanons, mentions of hospitals, mentions of wounds, mentions of being impaled, no graphic injuries, characters blaming themselves, long post under cut
CHARACTERS: Shisui Uchiha, Minato Namikaze, Yamato
SHISUI UCHIHA
Shisui is usually the calm and collected one no matter the situation. He can take out any enemy. Always has a plan and can lighten any situation with a lighthearted quip should it call for it.
But this, oh god nothing can prepare him for this.
You're not supposed to be able to get hit. Your entire jutsu is supposed to be impenetrable. More so than that, he's supposed to be your eyes in case things go wrong, your back up.
The enemy found a weak spot though—pulled a thread in the seam everything falls apart right in front of him.
Shisui feels so powerless as he calls your name.
'I've got you.' He says, catching you just before you hit the ground.
He ducks for cover as kunai come at him from all sides. The rest of the squad focus on the guy who got you. Taking down the rest of the enemies is a sinch in comparison. He can't even think about anything else except getting you out and alive.
When he makes it through the thick of the trees he feels you tremble in his arms.
'Shisui.' You call his name, same as you have a thousand times before but this time it's so quiet, almost ghostly.
Shisui is terried to look down but he has to. He can't let you down by betraying his fears. He needs to make you feel safe.
'H-hey.' He doesn't mean to let his voice slip and tremble as he sees how you don't look so good. 'It's going to be alright. We're almost there.'
You manage a nod.
By the time he makes it to the medics you begin to fade and he panics. They take you off his hands and into the tent to tend to your wounds.
Shisui spends the whole time pacing outside pale as a ghost.
He can't sit or stand still. He's a jolting mess. He can barely accept the water or food offered to him by his comrades.
It's the longest wait of his life waiting for you to wake up.
'Shisui.' Is the first thing you say as you come to.
He cries he's so overcome with emotion. Takes your hand and drops his face against it. Poor Shisui is so exhausted and has been so scared he just loves you so much.
MINATO NAMIKAZE
Guilt overwhelms Minato as he sits in the hospital room waiting for you to wake up.
He wasn't there when you had been injured because he held so much faith in your ability to hold your own and now he can't help but blame himself for being so carless. He should have been there. He should have been with you.
It's not that now he believes you can't handle yourself, it's that he should have been there anyway. Anyone can slip up. Anything can happen. This is proof of that and he knows that now.
If he could go back and do things differently— 
No it's too late for that. He would do right and better by you now.
He stays by your side each day waiting for you to wake up. He speaks to you, tells you little things about each day that are trivial but also deep things like how much he cares for you.
'I'm sorry.' He whispers, stroking your hand. 'I love you, I'll be here when you wake up.'
He lets go of your hand and walks over to the window to look out onto the village below.
Everything seems smaller, holds less meaning without you here awake beside him. It's like something is missing. He's no longer quite whole.
There's a stiring behind him and Minato turns wide eyed to find you coming to.
He can't quite believe it when your eyes flutter open.
'Mmm.' You groan. 'Damn that hurts.'
A soft chuckle escapes him and then a few tears too. Just a flood of relief hits at the signs of you being there.
Then you turn to him, a little more awake.
'Hey.' You say. 'What are you doing all the way over there, huh?'
And that's all it takes for him to just crowd you in the tightest (but also careful) hug.
'I'm so glad you're awake.' He whispers. 'I'm so sorry.'
'Don't be sorry.' You assure him. 'I'm glad you're here though.'
He pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes. 'I love you.'
It's enough to take your breath away. 'I love you, too.'
YAMATO
The image of you jumping in front of him to protect him is something Yamato will never forget. He's not sure he can forgive you for it either if you don't wake up.
He knows neither of you had a choice but— 
Seeing you there impaled is just not something he can ever forgive.
You should have let it hit him. Village be damned he'd rather—okay he would not rather hundreds of other people die instead of you getting injured but that's besides the point! He should never of had to see you that way. If you didn't worm your way into his life and make him care then— 
Oh who is he kidding.
Yamato could never be mad at you.
He's mad at himself. He should never have agreed to put you in this situation in the first place. There should have been a better strategy. He should have thought up a better strategy.
'It was an impossible situation, stop beating yourself up over it and just be there instead.'
Yamato lifts his head.
'Kakashi.' He balls his fists against his pants then sighs unfurling them. 'I know it's just—'
'Just that you think you could have strategised yourself out of an impossible situation now that it's over.'
'This is different.'
'It's always different with the people we care about.' He gives him a knowing expression. 'With the people we love.'
'I don't need a pep talk right now.'
'No but you also don't need to sit here waiting for someone to scold you like you've done something wrong.'
Yamato gives him a doubtful look.
'You both did your duty and what you wanted to do so now you ought to both be together for the waking up part.' Kakashi sighs. 'Neither of you are dying today.'
Yamato takes a deep breath letting it settle in his lungs before he exhales again. Kakashi was right. He needs to be by your side.
'Okay.' Is all he says before he stands and heads to your room, leaving his senpai behind.
The tension is palpable as he enters your room. The machines beeping and your assisted breathing fill his ears. He sits beside you timid as he shifts closer.
'Sorry, I took so long.' Is all he whispers as he wakes for you to wake.
Your eyes flicker open a few moments later as if to let him know it's alright. He's not mad anymore, only relieved. Loved.
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praisethegabs · 7 months
Text
FREAK
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Re2r!Leon x Scientist!Reader
synopsis: Leon is a test subject, a freak. He can't remember the world outside, and he doesn't have any notion of time. All he knows is pain. He doesn't have any hope left. He knows he'll die in there, completely alone, traumatized and scared. Until he meets you, the new leading supervisor.
warnings: angst, mentions of torture, blood, psychological abuse, trust issues, umbrella being umbrella. If you feel uncomfortable with this type of subject, DO NOT read it.
word count: 5106k
a/n: i got inspired by the c.ai bot from driftedlovers and made my own version after weeks chatting with the said bot. dividers are from @cafekitsune ♡
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some people survive chaos, and this is how they grow. and some people thrive in chaos because chaos is all they know (unknown author)
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Inside the white walls, Leon had no idea how the day was outside, if it was cold, raining, or if it was a sunny day.
He had no windows. All he could see was white every day.
He was there for so long that he barely remembered anything from the outside. His last memory from the world outside was something blue until he woke up inside that padded room.
Now, Leon used to be experimented with almost every day.
He hated when those doctors went inside his room to take him somewhere else. He knew he would feel pain and return to his room with new open wounds, purple marks, and blood. Why? He can't answer.
The only thing he knew was that he was kidnapped by Umbrella. He was their lab rat. A helpless man who was abused and experimented every single day. They didn't care about him at all. He tried to escape a thousand times, but he failed every single one of them.
Today, however, was the worst.
Leon came back from another round of tests and experiments, and he was bleeding a lot. His entire body seemed to be burning with excruciating pain. He was on the verge of tears. He crawled to his bed, his body shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine somewhere peaceful, where he couldn't be hurt or touched by those monsters.
His eyes were about to cry when he heard someone walking inside. He slowly opened his eyes, his heart already beating faster inside his chest with pure fear. He was hoping to be one of the scientists, ready to take him again to the room.
But it wasn't one of the monsters.
"Hey" you said gently at him, your hand holding a first aid kit. "May I?"
You were pointing to his side, he followed your finger to his direction and with those scared eyes, he slightly nodded his head. Leon was taught — in the painful method — he wasn't allowed to talk with the scientists, only to talk when he was spoken to, and he could only say "yes, sir" or "yes, ma'am".
"I'm not gonna hurt you" You smiled very friendly at him, getting closer and kneeling next to his side. "It's okay, you can talk to me. I'm not gonna punish you"
"Who are you?" Leon asked, his voice full of suspicious and fear. You knew he was scared. You actually could tell he was terrified.
"I'm a cool and friendly scientist" You smiled and noticed that his eyes were on your ID, where he could read your name. "I'm the new supervisor. I saw that your ID is Experiment N⁰ One, but I'm not interested in titles and IDs. Can you tell me your name?"
Leon was now shocked. All the time he was in there, no one cared to know his name. To them, he was just a freak, an abomination. A lab rat. But you, you weren't like the others. You were the first person to show him kindness.
"I'm... Leon" he said, and the sound of his own name made him think he almost forgot who he was.
"Nice to meet you, Leon" You smiled again, stretching your hand so he could shake it. You noticed his arm full of scars, new cuts, and blood. "Let's take a look at those injuries, shall we?"
Leon watched you cautiously, his eyes filled with suspicion and fear. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone in this place. But there was something about your demeanor that made him hesitate. You seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being.
You carefully cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch surprisingly gentle. As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes and spoke in a reassuring tone,
"You don't have to be afraid of me, Leon. I'm here to help, not to hurt." You said gently, using a wet cotton to clean one of his wounds.
You began to clean his wounds with a gentle touch, the antiseptic sting a harsh reminder of his painful existence. Leon winced as you tended to a particularly deep gash on his arm. Then, as if unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke in a soft, broken voice.
"I miss the outside world," he admitted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't understand why they're using us for these cruel and painful experiments. We're humans, not lab rats."
You paused for a moment, your hands still on his injured arm. Your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of empathy and helplessness.
"I know, Leon," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I wish I had answers for you, but I'm just as much a pawn in this as you are. All I can do is try to ease your pain."
Leon went silent again. He had every reason to be suspicious towards you, and you couldn't blame him for this. Although your touch was gentle, and you moved with a quiet assurance that contrasted with the harsh, you could still feel the clinical atmosphere of the facility. Leon couldn't help but be suspicious, a feeling he had grown accustomed to over time.
As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes, the deep-rooted mistrust that had taken hold of him after countless experiments and cruel treatment. You paused again for a moment, looking into his eyes with genuine concern.
"Leon," you began softly, "I can see that you're scared, and you have every reason to be. But I want you to know that I'm different. I'm not like the others who have come before me."
Leon regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. He had heard similar promises in the past, only to be let down.
"I promise you, Leon, I'll be back to keep you some company. You're not just an experiment here. And I believe in treating you with the respect and kindness you deserve." You continued, yourr voice unwavering.
Leon studied your face, searching for any hint of deception, but he found none. Perhaps it was the sincerity in your eyes, or maybe it was the exhaustion of isolation that made him yearn for human connection once more.
"Okay," Leon whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. "I'll be here."
"I'll be back, Leon. You're not alone in this anymore." You smiled, a glimmer of warmth in the cold, white, and sterile room.
With that promise, you finished cleaning Leon's wounds and left the room, leaving him with a newfound sense of anticipation and a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. He was wondering why you were so kind at him because he was betrayed before. He had no reason to trust you.
Leon lay on the bed of his room, the sterile walls bearing silent witness to his torment. The memory of your unexpected kindness lingered in his mind like a flickering candle in the dark. He couldn't help but wonder why you had been different from the others, why you had chosen to treat his wounds with care.
His thoughts churned with suspicion and confusion. The trauma of the countless painful experiments he had endured had left him scarred, both physically and mentally. He had learned to trust no one in this sterile prison, where cruelty was the norm.
As Leon's mind raced, his heart pounded with anxiety. He questioned whether your kindness had been genuine or if it was merely a cruel ploy to manipulate him further. The fear that he had been fooled gnawed at him, twisting his already frayed nerves into tighter knots.
Hours turned into days, and Leon's stress and paranoia grew. He replayed every interaction with you in his mind, dissecting your words and actions for any signs of deceit. But the more he thought, the less he understood. You seemed genuinely different, but how could he be sure?
In the suffocating silence of his padded room, Leon's thoughts became a torment of their own. He longed for answers for a sliver of hope to cling to, but the shadows of doubt and fear loomed large. All he could do was wait, haunted by the uncertainty of your true intentions and the relentless trauma that had brought him to this point.
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You were so busy during the weeks that you had no time to see anybody.
You were full with paperwork to do, files to read, and new reports to send to oversight. One file took all of your attention; it was the one from Leon. That said file had every report from the tests he was submitted into and what every supervisor before you did to him. You brought his file to your home. You needed to understand his condition better. All you knew was that he was there for years and he probably couldn't remember his own age. He was taken into the lab at a very young age, and he had no contact with the exterior.
No family, no friends. He was an orphan.
That's why he was the perfect subject for Umbrella. If he died, no one would come crying to collect his body. He had excellent grades at school, and he aspired to be a cop, which was according to his essays; Leon had everything the scientists were looking for, and that's why he was abducted so young. The sad part?
That boy was broken inside and out. His file had pictures of him being tested, naked, and exposed to a lot of painful experiments. They were doing atrocities with him, and now you could understand why he was looking terrified at you.
He was, at one point, drugged and abused. Those scientists under your supervision did a lot of things on him, and the more you read his file, the more disgusted you felt.
As you read through the file, your heart ached for Leon. You had met him only a few days ago, but in that short time, you had seen glimpses of the pain and trauma that haunted him. Now, with this file in your hands, you finally understood the full extent of his suffering.
The decision was clear in your mind.
You had to befriend him and offer him solace and support. In his condition, being manipulated, tortured and abused, hidden from the world, and unable to see the sun, Leon needed someone who wouldn't hurt him, someone who would stand by his side. You knew you had to do something. You needed time.
It was true that you were tired of everything you did for Umbrella Corporation.
Your soul was tainted with the horrors you made in the name of science. At least, you were trying to convince yourself you were doing good, even knowing you were actually drowned in chaos, your mind always remembering you that you were actually hurting others. You hated yourself every day.
You barely could look at your own image in the mirror.
At first, you were happy. After all, you have always been a loyal employee of Umbrella Corporation, working diligently in their research division. It was a prestigious job, one that paid well and provided you with a comfortable life. But it had also demanded your silence and your complicity in the face of questionable experiments and ethically dubious decisions.
But that thought changed after a year.
Suddenly, that beautiful image you had from them twisted into something dark and horrible. You had to face the truth, and it was crushing you.
You felt only shame and guilt. And it was burning you inside, and you couldn't sleep at night. Your conscience was heavy with everything you did for them, and now, you had one small opportunity to make things right. You had a small window, and you needed to act quickly.
After you arrived at the lab, the first thing you did was walk to his room. The security was high, but your ID card let you walk inside without any problem. And he was there. His white clothes had small spots of dried blood, and he seemed to be sleeping. You sighed.
"You came back" you hear him say, his voice surprised, and somehow, he wasn't so scared of you anymore.
"I told you I would come back. I'm sorry if I took long enough" you said, taking small steps towards him, because you don't know if he'll let you get closer.
"Why are you here?" Leon asks, and then you can notice he's fully aware and suspicious towards you. "Why do you care so much about me?"
"Let's just say... I want to make things right" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
"I don't buy it" Leon looks at you, his eyes full of doubts and fears. Of course, he wouldn't trust you immediately. You needed to earn him first.
"I know, and you have every reason to do so. But I don't mind spending my time trying to convince you I mean no harm" you said, taking another step closer, as your hands lay next to your body to let him know you're telling the truth. "I'm the cool scientist, remember?"
Leon smirked, but it was a sarcastic one.
"All the others told me the same bullshit and look what happened to me!" He almost shouts, his voice sounds angry. "At the end of the day, you are all the same, and I end up bleeding with a new scar"
The tension in the room was palpable, like an electric charge in the air. Leon stood on one side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes locked in a steely glare. On the other side of the room, you were facing him with a calm determination that belied the storm raging within you.
"Leon, I need you to understand something," you finally began, your voice steady and resolute. "I said it before, but I won't hurt you. I know you don't trust me, but I promise you, I'm not here to harm you."
Leon's jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his distrust evident in every fiber of his being. He had been through too much in his life to simply trust someone, especially someone like you, who was a relative stranger.
"You're just like the others" Leon muttered, his voice a low growl. "And you're here only to bring me more pain"
"I know you've been let down in the past, Leon. But I want to help you. I believe in you, and I'm committed to seeing you well" You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to break through Leon's wall of suspicion.
Leon's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and uncertainty. He had heard promises like this before, and they had always led to disappointment. He couldn't afford to be let down again, not when so much was at stake.
"Why should I believe you?" Leon demanded, his voice rising.
You took a step closer, closing the physical gap between the both of you, but realizing that the emotional gap was still vast.
"Because I've been where you are, Leon. I've faced my own demons and fought my own battles. I know what it's like to be in a dark place, and I want to be the light that guides you out of it." You said to him, your voice still showing respect and kindness.
Leon's anger seemed to waver, but he wasn't ready to let his guard down completely.
"Actions speak louder than words," he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with doubt.
"You're absolutely right, Leon. I can make promises all day, but it's my actions that will prove my sincerity. Give me a chance to show you that I mean what I say." You nodded in understanding.
As you extended your hand toward Leon, he hesitated for a moment before reluctantly reaching out to shake it. Your hands met, and in that simple gesture, a fragile bridge of trust began to form. You knew that gaining Leon's trust would be a long and challenging journey, but you were determined to prove to him that you are different, that you were there to help him heal, not hurt him.
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Two months had passed by since your first meeting, and that day, you told him you weren't there to hurt him.
And every since that day, Leon still had trouble to trust you, despite all the attempts to befriend him. You were trying, and you knew you were getting in there. Slowly, but effective.
Leon had become all too familiar with the routine of his daily experiments. Each morning, they would escort him down the cold, sterile hallways of the facility, his heart heavy with dread. The scientists, faceless behind their masks and lab coats, were relentless in their pursuit of knowledge, no matter the cost.
Today was different, though. As they strapped him onto the cold metal table, he felt a shiver of apprehension. The restraints were tighter, the needles sharper, and the machines more ominous. Leon's breath quickened as he watched them prepare the apparatus, their voices hushed in clinical conversation.
"Definitely a freak" one of them muttered, and the other laughed. "I mean... look at him. Looks like a walking corpse or whatever he looks like"
Leon was also used to the mean comments they made about him. It was easy for them to mock him. After all, they didn't starve the way Leon did. They weren't underweight as he was, and, of course, they had a place to call home, where they could live a normal life — something that was taken from him.
The first shock sent searing pain coursing through his veins. Leon's body arched in agony, his screams echoing off the sterile walls. He clenched his fists, trying to endure the torment, but his willpower crumbled with each successive jolt.
Hours passed, or maybe it was mere minutes, but to Leon, it felt like an eternity. He lost track of time as they pushed him beyond his limits, subjecting him to doses of needles, shocks, burns, and the ice room. The pain was excruciating, and he wondered how much more his frail body could endure.
Finally, they released him from the restraints, and Leon fell to the cold, hard floor. He was drenched in sweat, his body trembling with the aftermath of the ordeal. His mind was a fog of agony, and he struggled to make sense of his surroundings as they dragged him back to his padded room.
As they locked the heavy door behind him, Leon crumpled to the ground, more hurt than he had ever been before. The pain was unbearable, but there was something else too — an overwhelming sense of despair. He knew that tomorrow would bring another round of experiments, and he was trapped in this never-ending nightmare with no hope of escape.
The harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights above Leon's padded room flickered as the heavy door creaked open. Suddenly, you stepped inside, your footsteps muted by the cushioned floor. You carried a small medical kit and wore a look of sympathy that clashed with your usual clinical demeanor. Something that both of you were used to do, since you were promoted to supervision.
Leon lay on the floor, his body battered and broken from the day's experiments. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his face was contorted with pain. Silently, you knelt beside him, your gloved hands gentle as yoi began to assess his injuries.
The room was cold, the sterile walls offering no comfort. You worked in silence, tending to Leon's wounds with meticulous care that seemed out of place in this cold, heartless facility. You cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch as tender as it was professional.
As you worked, Leon's eyes filled with tears. He had endured so much, and the pain had become his constant companion. But it was your expected kindness that broke the dam. The tears streamed down his face, and he choked back sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him.
You paused in your ministrations, your eyes meeting Leon's with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. You didn't say a word, but your presence alone offered a glimmer of humanity in this otherwise soulless place.
Leon's sobs became louder, and his body was now jointing. He felt pain, and he was truly scared. He couldn't hold his feelings anymore.
"Please, you have to help me. They... they won't stop. I can't take it anymore." Leon's tears flowed freely now as he looked up at you, his voice choked with pain and desperation.
Gently, you set aside your medical supplies and leaned closer to him, your voice soft and soothing.
"It's going to be okay, Leon," you whispered. "I promise you, I'll find a way to end your suffering. You don't deserve this. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this ends".
"I... I can't do this anymore..." Leon sobs again, not caring with you seeing his tears. He was desperate. "Please..."
You sighed heavily, your heart aching with the sight of him hurt like that. You needed to help him. You needed to do something.
"I'll see what I can do" you whispered, then you wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now, take some rest"
Leon cried until he fell asleep, curled with his blanket. When you saw him like that, you knew you were done with Umbrella and everything they did. Something was forming inside your mind; a plan? An escape route? Where would you take him? How?
You had a lot of questions and, unfortunately, no answers.
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Over the next weeks, you started to prepare your escape. You already had your resignation letter written and a safe location to take Leon. You even took a weekend off just to prepare the place to take him. You had medical supplies, clothes, food, and everything you both would need.
It was risky, but you needed to try.
You had secretly collected a stash of supplies over the months, carefully hidden away in the recesses of your country house. You knew the facility's routines and security measures like the back of your hand. You had observed the guards' shifts and the vulnerabilities in their surveillance. You were more than prepared.
This would be the night.
When you went inside his room, he wasn't there. You checked his schedule and saw he was — again — in the experiment room. You had finally reached your breaking point. You couldn't bear to see Leon's suffering continue any longer.
Leon's condition had deteriorated to the point where he could barely move, let alone stand. You knew you had to act swiftly and decisively. You had already obtained a wheelchair, hidden away in a storage closet for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. You walk inside the building, trying to find the right room. Your mind and heart racing with thousand of thoughts.
Until you hear him.
Strapped to a cold metal table, he braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. The first shock hit him like a lightning bolt, searing through his body and causing his muscles to convulse. Leon clenched his teeth, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to endure. The room echoed with his screams, a symphony of suffering that went unheard beyond these walls.
"Stop this experiment now!" You commanded, your voice cutting through the chaos as you burst into the room.
"But... why?" One of the scientists asks, confused.
"I've made a new schedule. He's not going to be tested today" you replied harshly.
The scientists froze, their instruments suspended mid-air. You hurried to Leon's side, releasing him from his restraints with urgency. You spared no time in scooping him up gently, cradling his trembling body in your arms.
"But what are we supposed to do now?" The same scientist asked again, still confused.
"There's another test subject. You can use them" you said, helping Leon stand up.
Saying that, you carried him out of the experiment room, Leon's vision blurred, and he could barely comprehend what was happening. He clung to the sensation of being held, of being rescued from the torment he was passing through.
You took him back to his padded room, laying him down on the bed. You knelt beside him, your expression a mix of sympathy and anger.
"Rest now, Leon," you said softly, brushing his hair away from his tear-stained face. "I won't let them hurt you like this anymore. This will end today, I promise"
Leon tried to mutter something, but he was so tired that his words were beyond comprehension. You went back to your office, just waiting for the perfect time.
You were nervous, and anyone could tell that you were more aggressive than usual, despite the fact that you were always kind to everyone. This plan needed to work, or both of you would definitely die. Your eyes were glued to the watch in your wall, and the time seemed to freeze.
Your heart ached, and you felt anxious.
When the clock finally turned midnight, you knew what you needed to do. Silently, with a heavy heart, you approached Leon's padded room, your pulse quickening with each step. You had prepared a syringe with a sedative, a necessary measure to keep him asleep and prevent him from experiencing any more pain.
Entering the room, you saw Leon lying on the padded bed, his eyes hollow and empty. His frail body was a mere shell of what it had once been, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow for him. You administered the sedative with a gentle touch, whispering soothing words to him as he slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Carefully, you lifted Leon's limp form and gently placed him in the wheelchair. You secured him with the safety straps, ensuring he wouldn't fall during their escape. Then you wheeled him out of the room, moving with purpose through the corridors, your heart heavy with the weight of your escape plan.
As you both approached your car parked discreetly in the shadows, you couldn't help but glance back at the facility you both were leaving behind — a place of horrors, pain, and despair. You had made a difficult choice, one that would change both of your lives forever, but you were determined to keep Leon safe, even if it meant going to great lengths to do so.
With Leon sedated and safely secured in the wheelchair, you carefully loaded him into your car, your eyes never leaving his peaceful, albeit frail form.
"I've got you" you whispered, covering his weak body with a blanket and then closing the door.
The night was a tapestry of stars above as you drove, your eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead. Hours stretched on, the miles slipping away beneath the tires of your car. In the back seat, Leon lay motionless, a fragile figure in the interior, protected by the cozy blanket and the warm air.
Every so often, you stole a glance at the rearview mirror, your worry etched on your face. You constantly checked on him to make sure he was still asleep and unharmed. His breathing was steady, a reassuring rhythm amidst the uncertainty of your journey.
The countryside passed by in a blur of shadowy trees and moonlit fields. You kept driving, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing as the miles between you two and the lab grew. You couldn't help but think about the risk you had taken, the consequences if you were caught, but the determined look in Leon's eyes when he had awakened for a brief moment had given you the strength to carry on.
Finally, you two arrived at your country house, a remote sanctuary nestled far from prying eyes. You parked the car in the driveway and carefully opened the back door. Leon remained peacefully asleep, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.
Gently, she took him from the car to the wheelchair, your arms trembling with the weight of his frail form. You took him into the cozy house, the scent of pine and wood welcoming them. You placed him in a comfortable bed, covering him with a warm blanket.
You watched over him for a while, relief washing over you as you saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. You knew this new journey was far from over, that you both had many challenges ahead, but in this moment, under the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Leon was safe.
As exhaustion finally caught up with you, you settled into a chair in the room, your eyes never leaving Leon's slumbering figure. You were determined to protect him, to give him a chance at a life free from the horrors of the lab.
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of the country house, casting a gentle glow on the room. Leon began to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was no longer in the familiar confines of the lab.
Panic welled up within him, and he tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and weak. As he struggled, tears welled up in his eyes, and he cried out in despair.
You had been dozing in a nearby chair, tired that you fell asleep quickly, then you awoke with a start. You rushed to Leon's side, your voice filled with soothing reassurance.
"Leon, it's alright. You're safe now. You're not in the lab anymore." You tell him, your voice calm and kind.
"I... I can't believe it," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Is this real?" Leon's breaths came in ragged sobs as he looked at you, his eyes searching for the truth in your words.
You nodded, your eyes filled with empathy.
"Yes, it's real," you whispered. "You're free now, Leon. No more experiments, no more pain."
Tears streamed down Leon's cheeks as he absorbed the reality of his situation. He had spent so long in that nightmarish place that the idea of escape had seemed impossible. But here, in this tranquil room, with you by his side, hope blossomed within him. You reached out and gently brushed the tears from his face.
"It's okay to cry, Leon," you said softly. "You've been through so much. But now, we're going to build a new life together, away from the lab."
As Leon's sobs gradually subsided, he clung to your words, the promise of a brighter future. In your compassionate presence, he began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he could leave the horrors of the lab behind and find a life filled with warmth and kindness.
Leon finally felt the sun touching his skin. Finally, he was allowed to see the sunrise and to see the world again.
He was free.
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hina-hina · 1 year
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i LOVED könig friends to lovers. maybe ghost w friends to lovers? ❤️❤️❤️
Hello friend!! Of course I can do that one for you! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○` 3′○)
This came out as more of a childhood friend trope because I got a good idea for it (o′┏▽┓`o)
This fic has a good amount about Ghost's backstory, nothing too in depth but if you don't know what I'm talking about, a good glance over his Fandom page should be find (trigger warning for content within).
This is eventually a rewrite of Ghost's backstory but with you as his childhood friend/partner. Some details have been changed and is no way accurate to his actual backstory.
→ COD Masterlist
|| Ghost Having a Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ||
Tags: Friends to Lovers Trope, Fluff, Hurt!Ghost, Comfort, Childhood Friends, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ghost,
Warnings: Talks of Ghost's backstory (child abuse, neglect, and murder), heavy angst at some parts, mentions of torture and injuries (non graphic)
Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic
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So, we all know how awful Ghost's childhood is
It wasn't really the place where friends were easily made
So I imagine for this trope to work, it has to be a forced proximity situation
So, like you were a neighbor kid or perhaps like a teacher assigned tutor for him
Nevertheless, despite Ghost having trouble getting close to anyone, you were always there and eventually the two of you fell into an easy friendship
If your more talkative, he would let you take the lead in conversations, happy to just listen and insert little comments here and there
If your quiet like him, the two of you are content to just sit in silence with each other
The two of you also had this kinda quick-witted banter with each other, even if your more on the quiet side
As the two of you got closer, he tried harder to keep his home life away from you
Partly because he didn't want to burden you and partly because he didn't want to soil his "happy place" with what happens at his house
However you do eventually find out one day when he comes to you after he gained a pretty bad bite from a snake because he needs help cleaning it
The night is spent quietly sitting in your bathroom floor as you clean his wounds, him not even flinching when the peroxide touches the bite
You, very gently as to not spook him, wrap him up in your arms and tell him that you will always be there for him no matter what
He says nothing, carefully returning the hug
The two of you get older and when he tells you that he wants to go into the military, you respect that decision despite how much it scares you
You support him as he reconnects with his brother and gets him clean, you even go to his wedding as Simon's "date"
Your sure he means it in a platonic way
He does not
Eventually the two of you have some sort of disagreement (Because of course I have to add drama to these)
Unfortunately, this argument happens right before he leaves to go on a mission to take down the Zaragoza Drug Cartel
To take down Manuel Roba
He had already told you he was going on a short mission in Iran before he had been attached to the American team and had no time to inform you of the sudden change in plans
Therefore, all you had left of him when he went MIA was a unanswered Voicemail from the day he left on the mission
You spent many nights listening to this voicemail, wrapping yourself up in the hoodies he left behind, crying for him because you didn't know if he was even still alive
The military would barely tell Simon's family anything and you were told even less, left to think he had just died somewhere they couldn't retrieve his body and the last conversation you had was a petty argument
Months pass and eventually you move farther away from your childhood town in Manchester, not really keeping in contact with Simon's family beyond short phone calls
You get a phone call from Simon's brother one day, him claiming that Simon was found on the border of Texas, injured but alive
You go to meet him at the hospital and at first he tries to hide his face from you
After you urging, he shows you that he now has many facial scars, including a Glasgow Smile, and he was afraid of what you would think of them
It's a rare show of vulnerability, one that causes you to press a soft kiss to his lips and exclaim to him that you don't care what he looks like, just that your happy he is home
Simon is put on leave from active duty to heal his injuries and he lives with you during this time
He also develops a bad temper, usually causing it to come out whenever you push him to talk about what happened
This causes him to shout and run off, often being gone for many hours at a time
The two of you never really put a name to what you are but it's obviously romantic
He would return home after a while, apologizing profusely
He explains to you how terrified he is of becoming his father and than he would never forgive himself if he laid a hand on you
These nights usually ended up with him crying silently and allowing you to hold him, you telling him that he isn't anything like his father
He then meets up with two of the teammates he had from the Roba mission, realizing they have been brainwashed by Roba
He gets a frantic call from his brother, and goes there to see that his family had been killed by Washington.
He kills Washington before realizing Sparks is not there, quickly calling you
He quickly drives to your apartment, see that it has been broken into
He fears your already dead, but instead finds you severely injured
He cries over your body, trying desperately to get you to wake up
He holds your body as the ambulance arrives, he leaves you in the hospital after leaving again to find Sparks and kill him
He leaves to Mexico, eventually killing him and gaining all of his Intel causing him to be recruited into the 141
He returns home to leave that you had been in critical condition but pulled through, not awake and lucid and asking for him
He enters your room, slowly, not yet approaching your bed
Despite this you smile when you see him, asking him if he is hurt
The breaks him, he crouches by your bedside and grabs your hand:
"Love, I thought you were dead and you're asking me if I am ok? You're outta your damn mind..."
He tells you what happened to his family, that you are in danger by just being associated with him and that you should get out while you still can
You smile, placing a hand on his masked cheek before taking it off
You see tears lingering on his waterline, gently brushing them away with the pad of your thumb
You tell him that you are with him through everything and there is no way your walking away now
He promises to make sure nothing ever happens to you
You help him organize the funeral, hold his hand while he says goodbye to his family
The two of you move to London to be closer to the Task Force's base, him urging you to keep his name a secret from those that you talk with
He looks forward to coming home to you, hiding a ring in his bedside table and saving it for the right moment
Thank you for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you
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