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lila-lou · 2 months

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✨Stupid Movie Night✨

Summary: You and Ben had been through a lot lately. A movie night with friends was obviously not a good idea. Or was it?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, anxious Reader, Ben being a huge dick, hurting you - but also a soft little bean, kinda depressing guys

Word Count: 5365

A/N: I've been on this for what feels like forever and I hope you like it. 💙

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As you and Ben prepared for the movie night with Annie and Hughie, the atmosphere crackled with tension. You busied yourself with selecting an outfit, your excitement palpable as you anticipated spending time with friends. Meanwhile, Ben lounged indifferently on the couch, scrolling through his phone with disdain evident on his face.

"Why do we have to go to this stupid movie night anyway?", Ben grumbled, his annoyance and disdain dripping from every word.

You sighed, your patience wearing thin as you turned to face him. "Because, Ben, we agreed to spend time with our friends."

Ben scoffed. "I don't care about them. I just care about you, babe", he said, his tone dripping with possessiveness.

Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You know what, stay here and I'll go alone”.

Ben's expression darkened. "You're not going without me", he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

You bristled at his assertion, your resolve hardening. "Watch me", you retorted, storming past him to grab your coat.

A tense silence settled between the two of you as you stood at an impasse, your relationship hanging in the balance. After a moment, Ben's pride gave way to a begrudging acknowledgment of your independence. With a resigned sigh, he followed you out the door, his ego bruised but his desire to keep you by his side outweighing his disdain for socializing with anyone but you.

As you made your way to Hughie and Annie's house, Ben's resentment simmered beneath the surface, his muttering curses punctuating the silence between the two of you.

You glanced over at him, your frustration evident in your furrowed brow. "Could you at least try to be civil?", you snapped, your tone tinged with exasperation.

Ben scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Why bother? None of these people matter except you, Y/N", he spat.

You shook your head in disbelief. "Ben. We're here to spend time with our friends, whether you like it or not".

Ben rolled his eyes, his disdain palpable. "Fine, but don't expect me to enjoy myself", he muttered darkly.

You sighed, your frustration mounting. "Just try to keep your attitude in check, okay? For my sake, if not for yours".

Ben grunted in response, his resentment simmering just beneath the surface as you arrived at your destination, tensions thickening the air between the two of you.

As you approached Hughie and Annie's house, Ben plastered on a fake smile.

"Welcome to the land of fun and excitement", he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with insincerity.

You shot him a pissed glare. "Benjamin! Behave yourself, damn it!”, you hissed through clenched teeth.

Ben shrugged, his facade slipping slightly as he grudgingly acquiesced. "Sure thing, darling", he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You bristled at the nickname. Your annoyance reached its breaking point. "Don't call me that", you snapped, your voice sharp with frustration.

Ben's smirk widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in closer to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Can't handle a little affection?", he taunted.

Your jaw clenched, your temper flaring as you fought to keep your composure. "Stop it, Ben", you warned.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ben brushed off your warning, his arrogance unyielding. "Relax, babe", he quipped, his smirk never faltering. "I'm just trying to be friendly."

You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that arguing with Ben would only escalate the situation further. With a resigned shake of your head, you turned away, steeling yourself for the evening ahead, determined not to let Ben's behavior ruin the evening.

Then the front door finally opened

"Hey, guys! So glad you could make it", Annie exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Ben.

Ben forced another insincere smile, his eyes flickering with annoyance as he exchanged pleasantries with Annie. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it for the world", he muttered under his breath, his sarcasm barely concealed.

You shot him another warning look, your gaze flashing with irritation as you subtly nudged him in the side. "Behave", you hissed through gritted teeth, your frustration palpable.

Ben rolled his eyes, but reluctantly toned down his sarcasm.

As you entered the house, Hughie greeted you warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Hey, guys! Good to see you both", he said, stepping forward to shake your hands.

Ben's expression remained stoic as he accepted Hughie's greeting, his disdain evident in the way he glanced around the room. When Hughie offered you drinks, Ben's nose wrinkled in disgust as he eyed the selection of beer.

"Seriously? This is the best you've got?", Ben muttered under his breath, his arrogance seeping into his tone as he looked at the array of beers with disdain.

You looked at him, silently urging him to keep his complaints to himself, but Ben ignored you. "I'll take a whiskey, if you have one", he said.

"Sure", Annie muttered, before heading to the kitchen.

As Annie returned with a glass of whiskey for Ben, the group settled in for the evening. Despite Bens abrasive personality, Hughie and Annie welcomed him with open arms, knowing that beneath his tough exterior, Ben was still an integral part of their circle of friends.

As the evening progressed, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm, catching up on each other's lives and sharing stories over drinks. While Hughie and Annie chatted animatedly with you, Ben remained mostly silent, nursing his whiskey as he watched a football game playing on the TV in the background.

Occasionally, he'd interject with a comment or two about the game, his attention focused solely on the screen in front of him. Despite his disinterest in the conversation swirling around him, Hughie and Annie tried to include him, tossing the occasional glance his way and asking his opinion on various topics.

Ben responded with characteristic indifference, offering brief, monosyllabic answers before returning his focus to the game. You shot him a concerned glance, silently urging him to engage more with your friends, but Ben brushed off your concern with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention firmly fixed on the TV.

As Annie started the movie, Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes, irritated at being pulled away from the football game. He begrudgingly shifted his attention to the screen, his annoyance evident in the way he crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch.

Beside him, you snuggled closer, seeking comfort in his embrace as Annie did with Hughie. Ben's initial instinct was to push you away, his pride and image as America's strongest Supe overriding his desire for affection. He shot you a brief, irritated glance, silently warning you to keep your distance, but you seemed oblivious to his discomfort as you nestled against him, seeking warmth and reassurance.

Ben's frustration grew as he struggled to maintain his facade of invincibility, torn between his need for affection and his fear of appearing vulnerable. He loved you, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that allowing himself to indulge in moments of intimacy would only weaken his carefully constructed image.

As you rested your head on his chest, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort radiating from Ben. His tense posture and the subtle stiffness in his embrace leaving you feeling confused and hurt. You glanced up at him, searching his eyes for some semblance of reassurance, but found only a distant look that sent a shiver of unease down your spine.

"Is everything okay, Ben?", you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as you tried to quell the rising panic in your chest.

Ben hesitated, torn between his desire to maintain his tough exterior and his fear of hurting you. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, his pride warring with his guilt.

Your heart sank as you watched him struggle, your mind racing with self-doubt and insecurity. Did you pushed him too far with bringing him here? Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you fought to keep her emotions in check.

Things really haven't been going well between you in the last few weeks, so your nerves have been frayed and your feelings are completely confused

"I'm sorry", you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to be close to you".

Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your tears: With a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you into a tight hug.

"No, Y/N, it's not you", he murmured, his voice soft with sincerity.

You buried your face against his chest, your tears mingling with the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him desperately, relieved to hear his words of reassurance.

As you buried your face in Ben's chest, Annie's super hearing caught the quiet exchange between you, her expression darkening with anger at Ben's apparent callousness. She shot him a piercing glare, her eyes narrowing with disapproval, but chose to remain silent, not wanting to escalate the situation further.

Ben met Annie's gaze with a sense of unease, realizing the weight of his actions and the hurt he had caused you.

Feeling the weight of Annie's silent judgment, Ben tightened his embrace around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering in a silent apology as he whispered words of love.

With a deep breath, Ben glanced over at Annie, his expression contrite as he silently acknowledged her disapproval.

Despite the tension in the room, you found solace in Ben's touch as he gently caressed your lower back, a silent gesture of affection and apology. You leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to relax into his embrace.

You knew that beneath his tough exterior lay a man who loved you deeply.

With each tender stroke of his hand against your back, you felt a surge of warmth and reassurance.

As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Hughie and Annie turned to you with smiles, eager to discuss the film.

"So, what do you think?", Hughie asked.

You glanced over at Ben, who was engrossed in his phone, before turning back to Hughie and Annie with a forced smile. "It was... interesting", you replied diplomatically, your tone tinged with uncertainty.

Annie raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with Hughie. "Interesting?", she echoed, a playful smirk playing at her lips. "That's one way to put it".

You chuckled weakly, your discomfort evident as you tried to navigate the conversation without drawing attention to Ben's lack of engagement. "Well, you know how it is. Different strokes for different folks", you said with a nervous laugh.

Hughie and Annie nodded in understanding, sensing your discomfort and choosing to drop the subject for now. Instead, they launched into a discussion about their plans for the upcoming weekend, eager to shift the focus away from the awkwardness that hung in the air.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful for your friends' understanding as you joined in the conversation, your mind still lingering on Ben's distant demeanor. You knew that the two of you had a lot to talk about once you were alone, but for now, you were content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, thankful for the distractions they provided.

As the conversation continued and you were just about to get some snacks from the kitchen with Annie, you felt a sudden tug on your arm, causing you to wince in pain. You turned to see Ben gripping your arm with more force than necessary, his expression clouded with frustration.

"Where do you think you're going?", he muttered, his voice low and harsh as he tightened his grip on your arm.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Ben's demeanor, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and confusion. "I was just going to get some snacks from the kitchen", you replied hesitantly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear bubbling in your chest.

Ben's grip on your arm loosened slightly, but his expression remained cold and distant. "Well, hurry up then", he snapped, releasing your arm with a rough shove.

You recoiled at the rough treatment, your arm throbbing with pain as you scrambled to your feet, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation. You shot Ben a wary glance, but his attention was already back on his phone, his indifference like a barrier between you.

Feeling shaken and unsettled, you quickly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with questions and doubts. You knew that something was off with Ben tonight, but you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach as you tried to make sense of his sudden change in behavior.

In the safety of the kitchen, Annie’s concerned expression softened as she approached you, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. “Hey, are you okay?”, she asked, her tone laced with genuine concern. You forced a tight smile, your nerves still on edge. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, your voice strained as you tried to downplay the situation. Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing that something was amiss. “You don’t seem fine”, she remarked quietly, her gaze searching your face for any sign of distress. You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to your friend. “It’s just… Ben’s been acting strange tonight”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced back towards the living room, where Ben sat lost in his own world. Annie’s expression darkened with understanding as she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve to be treated like that”, she said softly, her voice filled with sympathy.

“I just… he’s usually not like this, well, at least not to me”, you sighed. “I thought things were going well between us again, but tonight… he’s always got some bad days, but today, it’s worse”.

Annie listened attentively. She reached out, pulling you into a gentle hug, offering comfort and solace in the face of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry you're going through this", Annie murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "But you're not responsible for Ben's actions, especially if he's dealing with his own demons".

You leaned into the embrace, finding solace in Annie's warmth and understanding. "I just wish he would open up to me more", you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness. "I want to help him, but he pushes me away whenever I try".

As Ben continued to scroll through his phone in the living room, his attention drifted momentarily from the screen as he caught snippets of conversation drifting in from the kitchen. Despite his best efforts to tune them out, his super hearing picked up on Annie and your hushed discussion.

His heart clenched with a mixture of guilt and frustration as he heard your voice tremble with emotion. A pang of regret washed over him as he realized the impact his behavior had on you, the weight of his actions heavy on his conscience.

Part of him wanted to storm into the kitchen, to confront you and demand forgiveness, but another part held him back, his pride and fear of vulnerability holding him captive. He felt a surge of shame wash over him as he listened to Annie's comforting words, knowing that he didn't deserve your love and understanding.

As the conversation faded into the background, Ben was left alone with his thoughts, grappling with the harsh reality of his own shortcomings. He knew that he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to salvage his relationship with you, but deep down, he feared that he may have already pushed you too far away.

As the conversation in the kitchen drew to a close, you and Annie returned to the living room, your expressions softened by the private exchange. You approached Ben, a small smile tugging at your lips as you handed him his favorite beer, the one you had brought with from home.

Ben glanced up from his phone, surprise flickering in his eyes as he took the beer from you, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting moment of connection. He caught the subtle warmth in your smile, a silent acknowledgment of your shared history and the unspoken understanding between the two of you.

For a moment, the weight of your earlier conversation hung heavy in the air, but Ben found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to apologize, to express his remorse for his earlier behavior, but the words caught in his throat, his pride holding him back.

Instead, he met your gaze with a tentative smile of his own, silently thanking you for the gesture.

You didn't say a word as you returned to your seat beside him, but the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand on his arm spoke volumes.

As the evening drew to a close, the group made their way towards the door. Ben and you stepped outside into the cool night air, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. You glanced up at Ben, your expression softening with a mixture of affection and concern. "Are you okay?", you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.

Ben's reserved demeanor didn't go unnoticed by you. You withdrew your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill swept through the night air.

"Ben, please", you pleaded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hate when we're like this".

"Just… let's go home", he muttered, his tone curt and dismissive.

Your heart sank at his response, hurt flickering in your eyes as you recoiled from his coldness. You bit your lip, fighting back the sting of tears as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt dismissal.

"Fine", you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. "Let's go".

As you walked home in silence, the tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of Ben's words lingering like a bitter aftertaste.

At Home you quickly made your way to the bathroom, getting rid of your clothes and bracing yourself on the sink. Tears already streaming down your face. It was too much for you. Everything.

That’s when you felt your boyfriend behind you.

As Ben caught sight of your tear-streaked reflection in the mirror, his heart clenched with a pang of guilt and regret. He stepped closer to you, his own reflection looming large behind yours, his movements hesitant yet determined.

Without a word, Ben wrapped his arms around your naked body, pulling you close to him as he held you tightly against his chest. He watched your reflection in the mirror.

Your sobs echoed in the small space, your brokenness palpable as you leaned into Ben's embrace. "Do you... do you really love me?", you whispered, your voice fragile with uncertainty.

Ben's heart stuttered at your words, his own turmoil bubbling to the surface. He struggled to find the right words, his pride and emotional distance warring with his desire to comfort you.

"Of course I do", he replied finally, his voice strained but sincere. "But you know how I am, Y/N. I'm not good with... with all this emotional stuff".

Your shoulders shook with silent sobs as you buried your face against Ben's chest, your heart breaking with the weight of his words. You knew that he struggled to express his emotions, but the pain of his indifference cut deeper than you cared to admit.

Ben held you tighter, his own emotions roiling beneath the surface as he grappled with the realization of how deeply he had hurt you. Again. He wanted to reassure you, to promise you that he would do better, but the words caught in his throat, his pride and stubbornness holding him back.

In the end, all he could do was hold you close, hoping that his actions spoke louder than his words

As you trembled in his arms, Ben’s heart twisted at the sight of your pain. He cursed himself for causing you such distress, his stomach churning with guilt. With a heavy sigh, he tightened his embrace.

“Let me show you just how much I love you”, he mumbled.

“Ben”, you whispered brokenly, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with tears.

Without another word, Ben lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your weight feeling insignificant against his strength. He cradled you close to his chest, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. He lays your naked form on the bed, hovering over you.

As Ben tenderly kissed away your tears, he felt your body relax beneath him, your sobs gradually giving way to soft giggles. He smiled against your skin, the sound of your laughter like music to his ears.

"Sorry about the beard", he murmured, his voice gentle as he continued to pepper your face with featherlight kisses. "I promise I'll shave tomorrow".

You shook your head, your laughter mingling with your tears as you reached up to caress his cheek. "I don't mind", you whispered, your voice filled with love and affection. "I love your beard".

With a soft chuckle, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of you against his own. He felt you respond eagerly, your body arching against his

As Ben continued to caress your skin with tenderness and care, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at him. He knew deep down that he didn’t deserve your love, not after the way he had treated you earlier. But in this moment, with you wrapped in his arms, your laughter and affection washing over him like a balm for his wounded soul, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. He wanted to make things right, to show you just how much you meant to him, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.

As you carefully pulled off Ben's shirt, he couldn't help but his instincts screamed at him to assert dominance, to remind you of his strength and power. But as he looked into your eyes, filled with nothing but love and tenderness, he knew he had to suppress those urges.

"Easy there", he muttered.

Your hands paused for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing your features before you continued, your movements careful and deliberate. You didn't say anything in response, but Ben could see the disappointment in your eyes, a silent rebuke for his callousness. Again.

Ignoring the pang of guilt that twisted in his gut, Ben forced himself to focus on the moment. He reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentler than he had ever allowed himself to be.

"You know I don't do this often", he muttered, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "But for you, I'll make an exception".

Your lips quirked into a small smile at his words, your love for him shining through despite his flaws. "I know, Ben", you whispered, your fingers trailing lightly over his skin. "And I appreciate it".

With a nod, Ben leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude.

Ben reached down to unbutton his jeans, his movements slow and deliberate.

As he trailed soft kisses down your body, his lips lingered over every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your skin against his lips. He worshipped you with each touch, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of you with care and tenderness.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed up at you with a mixture of desire and reverence. He could feel you trembling beneath him, your anticipation palpable.

With a gentle touch, Ben parted your legs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your inner thighs as he teased you with featherlight kisses. He felt you gasp in response, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you as you arched your back in pleasure.

As he lowered his head between your legs, Ben closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste and scent of your arousal. He moved with agonizing slowness, his tongue tracing languid circles around your most intimate areas, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

With each flick of his tongue, Ben felt himself grow more and more aroused, his own need building to a fever pitch. But he forced himself to hold back, to maintain the slow and steady pace that he knew you loved.

And as he continued to worship you with his mouth, he felt your body respond to his touch, your pleasure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume both of you.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your body tensed and trembled beneath Ben's touch. With a soft cry of ecstasy, you came undone, your release washing over you in waves of pure bliss.

Ben held himself back, resisting the urge to give in to his own desires as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue. He felt you shudder and moan as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.

When you finally began to relax, Ben withdrew from you, his lips lingering over your skin as he pressed soft kisses along your body. Your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him close.

With a mischievous smirk, Ben looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with desire as he whispered, "Want to get fucked nice and slow, just how you like it?".

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at his bold question, your breath catching in your throat as you met his intense gaze. You could feel the undeniable heat of his arousal pressing against you, his erection throbbing against your wet folds.

Your heart raced with anticipation as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Ben. Please".

With a satisfied grin, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound urgency. He positioned himself between your legs, his gaze locking with yours.

As Ben guided himself inside you, he exerted a tremendous amount of restraint, controlling his movements with a deliberate slowness that bordered on agonizing. Every inch of his body burned with desire, but he clenched his fists around the bed frame above your head, channeling all his strength into maintaining the gentle pace you craved.

With each measured thrust, Ben savored the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by your warmth. He buried himself deep inside you, relishing the intimate connection you shared, his gaze locked with yours as he slowly started to move.

Despite the overwhelming urge to surrender to his own desires, Ben remained steadfast in his commitment to pleasuring you.

As the two of you moved together in the darkness of your bedroom, Ben pressed gentle kisses along your neck, his lips trailing caresses along your skin. He whispered softly against your ear, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.

"Is this nice, baby?", he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Do you like it when I take things slow for you?".

Your response was a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching against his as you surrendered yourself to the sensation of his lips on your skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

He shifted his weight slightly, adjusting his angle to deepen his thrusts.

As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a primal urge building within him, driving him to take you harder, faster. But he resisted, determined to maintain the slow and steady pace that you wanted.

"You feel so tight, Y/N", he groaned, his voice filled with longing as he continued to thrust into you with measured precision. "I want to make you feel every inch of me".

With each thrust, Ben focused on savoring the sensation of your warmth enveloping him, his movements deliberate and controlled. He alternated between shallow and deep thrusts, teasing you with the promise of pleasure as he explored every inch of you with care.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, your moans growing louder with each passing moment as you surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through you.

You arched your back in ecstasy, your fingers digging into his skin as you urged him on with desperate cries of longing.

As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a surge of desire building within him. With a gentle touch, he traced his fingers lightly your clit, teasing you with light caresses that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your response was immediate and intense. You cried out in ecstasy as your body convulsed with pleasure, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Ben could feel your walls clenching around him, your release gripping him with an intensity he had never felt before.

He held you close as you rode out the waves of pleasure, his own desire building to a fever pitch as he watched you.

As your body convulsed with pleasure, Ben couldn’t hold back any longer. The intensity of your orgasm coupled with the sight of you surrendering to ecstasy was too much for him to bear. With a guttural groan, he gave in to the overwhelming sensation, spilling himself deep inside you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided and the two of you lay tangled together in the aftermath, Ben let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed and fulfilled than he had in a long time. He held you close, your bodies still pressed together in an intimate embrace, your breaths coming slow and steady.

Your expression was one of pure bliss as you gazed up at him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. You reached out to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and affectionate as you praised him for his efforts.

"Ben, that was amazing", you murmured, your voice soft with emotion. "I know how much you prefer it rough, but thank you for taking it slow for me. It was exactly what I needed".

Ben's heart swelled with pride at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. He knew that he had pushed himself out of his comfort zone for you, and seeing the satisfaction on your face made it all worth it.

"I'd do anything for you, Y/N", he whispered, his voice filled with love and devotion. "You mean everything to me".

As you lay intertwined in the aftermath of your lovemaking, Ben reflected on his last words, he couldn't help but cringe at his own awkwardness. With a sheepish smile, he reached out to pull you even closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

"Forget what I just fucking said", he murmured, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "It was fucking cheesy”.

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest as you looked up at him with a tender smile. "I wouldn't dream of forgetting. I love you, Ben".

As you drifted off to sleep in Ben's arms, he gently traced his fingers over your lower back and thighs with tender affection. His touch was light and soothing.

With each gentle caress, Ben felt a sense of peace wash over him, the weight of the world melting away as he focused solely on the woman he held in his arms. He marveled at the beauty and grace of your sleeping form, his heart swelling with love for you.

As the soft rhythm of your breathing filled the room, Ben pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against you as he whispered words of love and adoration into the darkness. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and intimacy of the dark, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #smut #hurtful #hurt/comfort #the boys hughie #hughie campbell

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chuuyaswifeandhoe · 2 months

Text

Not today

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: hurt, swearing, manipulation, not a happy ending, Chuuya being an asshole

Not proofread

A/N: Hello all. This fic will have 3 or 4 parts. Please note that it's not going to have a happy ending so read at your own discretion.

“I want to break up”

He said the words so effortlessly that you were not sure you were hearing him right.

“What?” Your mind did not understand yet the meaning of his words. It couldn't be. No. It was impossible. But his annoyed and tired sigh had your heart in a grasp, ready to shatter it.

“ I want to break up Y/N. I don't want to continue this any longer.” His tone was empty, no trace of emotion, no trace of love, no trace of your Chuuya. The pain you started to feel was unbearable. Like someone was planting in your heart thousands of shattered glass pieces making it bleed more when it tried to beat. You did not see this coming. How could you when this morning he kissed your sleepy face, told you he is going to miss you throughout the day and that he loves you more than anything. How could you when only some nights ago you were talking about marriage and how you two see the idea of having kids.

“Why?” Your voice was strained, like it did not belong to you. You choked on air, your mind screaming profanities at you. Your body started trembling. You were living your perfect fairytale. Chuuya was the man you were sure was not going to break your heart. Until five minutes ago…

An exasperated sigh left Chuuya's lips. He did not want to do this. It hurt him as much as it hurt you. Maybe even worse. But if this was the only solution he had to keep you safe then he's going to do it. Better two broken hearts than a dead body, your dead body. The next mission was going to last over a year long, abroad, with little possibility and space for outside communication. And the biggest fear he had was that you'll become a target in all this time and Mori told him they can't offer you protection for such a long time. Their resources were limited at the moment with all that was going on, no weakling could be spared for his girlfriend. And if you became a target, he could not do anything to protect you, he wouldn't even find out until is too late and the Mafia “would not organize a rescue mission or give in ransom requests for Y/N”.

“Why does it matter, I want to end things!” He raised his voice feeling guilty. Seeing you flinch, your glossy eyes widen and tears spilling over your face was like pushing the dagger in his own heart. He did not want to give reasons. He hoped you'd magically understand his thoughts and not put up a fight. But how could you, you were fighting for him and he couldn't be happier to know it, but not today.

“Because this morning you told me you loved me, because few nights ago we were talking marriage and children and now you've done a 180 turn so you owe me at least an explanation.” Your voice cracked, your phrase interupted by a pitiful sob. This had to be a nightmare you got to wake up from, right?

Chuuya's gaze soften for a second before going back to his composed icy attitude. He wanted to extend his arm, to pull you close and tell you he is just a coward and he's scared to lose you. He couldn't bear to see you like this. But he needed to cut whatever strings were keeping you close. He knew you well enough to realize that a simple ”I have another girl or I lost feelings” wouldn't work. He had to make you hate him, he had to cut deep so you'd never want to see him again. He had to be the very last thing he wanted to become, an absolute asshole. He was going to rip your heart apart with his words.

“I lied. I never loved you.”

You scoffed. “Fuck you, try something better. You can't fake a year and a half of relationship, being the most loving boyfriend and then tell me it was all a lie.” Your voice was so confident that for two seconds made Chuuya waver in his own decision. You trusted him so much, so blindly and he couldn't be more grateful… but not today. He bit his lip, not wanting to go on that road, a trip of no return. If he's going to attack every vulnerable part of you he was going to break you in multiple ways, but at least you would be safe, right?

He forced a sinister laugh. “See, you're so fucking gullible that you think a Port Mafia executive would not be able to lie. You want to know the truth?? You were just convenient. The good innocent girl who would believe everything that I feed her. You're fucking way to stupid and naive for your own good. I never loved you, I just wanted someone to warm my bed every night without having to worry too much on the how's and who's.” He regretted every word that was coming out of his mouth. He didn't believe any of it. Saying them was like eating glass, he felt his mouth hurting together with his heart when he saw the impact they were having on you.

It was like a dagger that was cutting every fiber of your muscles. Your heart clenched so hard in your chest you though you were having a heart attack. Everything hurt. There wasn't a cell in your body not burning under the cold eyes Chuuya reserved for you today. To say his words hurt was an understatement.

“You're lying”. It was the only thing your vocal cords could articulate.

“If this makes it easier for you, then of course Y/N, I'm lying. But I don't want to do this anymore. You're annoying, I'm tired of your bubbly energy and the way you act all clingy. You're a grown ass woman and act like a freaking teenager. What, you think I like how you're jumping around the bookstore? Or that you act so fucking selfish towards everyone, like there is no bad in the world. I'm so tired of having to act like I'm not killing people on the daily basis around you. Also, I hate how you get all shy when I'm fucking you. Acting all so innocent like you don't like it.” he took a deep breath before speaking again “The only thing good about you is when you shut up and just take it. And even that is such a rarety since you're so fucking sensibile you're always hurting, always bruising easily. I don't love you, I never did. You were nothing more than a bed warmer and I just had enough of you.”

Lies, lies, lies. He adored every part of you. He loved how you would be so excited by some random hardcover book, just because the covers are pretty. How you'd take photos of the sunsets because they were “pieces of art”. The way you folded under his teasing games and how you tried to cover your blushing face. He loved it all. He worshipped you till the moon and back. If you'd ask him for the moon itself he'd ask the god's permission to rip a piece and bring it back to you.

He was trying with all his being not to crack the mask he's put on. If he didn't had the gloves on, he was sure his nails would dig in his palms until blood would come out. Loyalty, he was doing this out of loyalty towards the Mafia and towards yourself. He was doing it out of love. He was doing it out of selfishness. He couldn't bear the idea of the possibility that his world could get you hurt, or worse killed. So his best idea was to hurt you himself so he could push you away from his world, from his blood stained hands. Your sobs brought him back to reality. He looked at you and saw everything he did not want to become. You were hugging your own body while crying and sobbing uncontrollably.

You felt empty, you were in agony. No, it was worse, but you could not point out just a single emotion you were feeling right now. It was like you fell to hell from heaven. And yet, somehow hell seemed a less painful place right now. Every vulnerability you had, he made sure to point it out and twist it against you. Were you so blind to not see that he actually did not love you? You felt useless, an used object, a used doll. All the moments he kissed your insecurities away were mere lies? Everything you were afraid of, came to life. Maybe was it your fault to have let down your defences and let him under your skin, under the layers you kept on for so long. Was he such a good actor after all? You fell to your knees continuing to cry. It was too much, way too much than your fragile heart could endure.

His first instinct was to catch you, to use his ability to help you get down safely. He fought against it and any piece of respect he had for himself vanished when he heard a desperate cry from your scrunched form. He felt a burn in his eyes, tears forming in them. No, he could not screw this up. He turned on his feet giving you his back.

“You can keep this place and the card I have given to you. Take it as compensation for the time you lost with me. If our paths ever cross again you'll act like you don't know me or I'll make a bullet go through your skull.” He walked away, getting out of the shared apartment, while tears were falling down his cheeks. Even though his body was reacting in a very human way, he felt anything but human. He broke the only person who made him feel human. He took a deep breath before taking his phone out and sending a message to Dazai “I need your help”. He had to find a way to protect her from his world now that he cut any strings. He had to protect her from himself.

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuyaswife #bsd chuuya #chuuyaswifeandhoe #angst #chuuya x you #hurtful #chuuya angst #bsd x you

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ghenwasblog · 1 year

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sadghostgirl14 · 9 months

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#hurtful #rage #push away #thinking of you #sadgirl #heartache #heartbreak #relateable #healing #poetry #sad poem #used to love it #you broke my heart #miss me #missing him #i miss it

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noname-404s-blog · 10 months

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hei-n1cky · 5 months

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"Can I sleep with you dad? D-:"

No. Pepito slept today next to a river outside the castle walls

#qsmp roier #roier qsmp #im cryign #qsmp pepito #Someone save Pepito #hurtful #qsmp #roierangst #pepito the egg #qsmp purgatory #roierqsmp #roier

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mrsparrasblog · 22 days

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I wont pay for your therapy after this🥲

Mrs. MacTavish

Scotland—Johnny's birthplace and the place where he would be laid down permanently. The three men closest to him, the men who saw him die, stood together with his ashes in their hands. It felt surreal for them; of course, they knew something like this could happen. They had all lost a great deal of friends, but this was different. This task force should have been invincible, they should have been better—too good to be killed. But here they were, only three of them.

"Who dares wins. Sleep easy, soldier."

"See you down range, brother. We take it from here."

"Rest in peace, Johnny."

The men spread his ashes; he was finally where he felt at home, at least that's what his friends, his brothers in duty, thought.

They sat together in a rundown pub, unsure how to grieve or how to throw a worthy wake. Price said he didn't have any family left, so they were all he had, and they still failed him.

An order of his favorite whiskey stood on the table they usually occupied.

"He'd love that, he loved this place," Gaz said, trying to reassure his brothers. He now needed to be the glue of the group, the job Soap had before.

"One time, he hit an officer when he was still a rookie. The officer touched a female civilian, and Soap knocked him out. He almost got kicked out of the military, but he didn't press charges—too embarrassing," Price said, earning a slight chuckle from Gaz. Ghost stayed still; he was frozen since the death of his best friend.

"He almost beat my record at the SAS. Made me proud when I saw him in the recruitment," Gaz told them.

"He was the best," Ghost said. His voice sounded monotone; if he didn't have this thick British accent, he would have sounded like a robot.

"He tried to enlist in the SAS several times at 16, lying about his age each time," Price chuckled at the thought of his best trainee.

"He was more than his accomplishments." The other two men looked confused at Ghost; they weren't as close, he knew him better than them.

"Of course, he was, son."

"He had a journal, always drawing each of us, calling us his family. But now, he is dead. We failed him," Ghost said, bringing Gaz and Price down from their attempts to cheer him up and to appreciate Soap's life accomplishments. But he was dead, and nothing would ever change that.

After a while of drinking without speaking a word, Laswell came in, looking at the group of guys sitting down next to them. "Holding a wake for him?" she asked, nipping at the shared whiskey.

"Spread his ashes," Ghost replied shortly.

"You did what?" Her voice was loud; they could see the look of panic on her face.

"What's wrong, Kate? He would love resting in the Highlands."

"Please tell me, John, you didn't spread the whole ash."

"Kate, what's wrong?" Price asked, and she only sighed.

"I'm torn between granting the wishes of a deceased person and betraying his wishes at the same time," Laswell said. The inner conflict was visible in the wrinkles around her eyes.

"Laswell, spit it out!" Ghost shouted at her, the normally calm soldier completely losing control of his emotions.

"His last wish was that someone specific get his body in case of his early demise."

"Bullshit, he had no family left," Gaz replied, confused. His brother wouldn't lie to him about his family.

"Who is this person?" Ghost asked, his expression full of hurt. He wasn't mad like Kyle about the possibility that Johnny lied to them; Johnny was always smarter than the rest of them. He couldn't entertain the possibility that one of his brothers or whoever this person was would die because of his enemies.

"Mrs. MacTavish," Kate muttered under her breath. She promised him before joining the task force that she wouldn't, under any circumstances, tell anyone about her.

"Like his mother?" Kyle asked, and Kate only shook her head.

"He was married?"

"For ten years," Kate sighed.

"I will personally tell her and apologize," Price said. He knew this was the least he could do for him.

"I will tell her," Ghost thought. He needed to do this for his best friend, especially making sure that whoever she was, she would never be found by Makarov and could live a safe civilian life.

"Count me in, Captain," Gaz said, determined to apologize to Soap's wife. Maybe if he had been better, faster, Makarov wouldn't have gotten Soap.

These three men were as different as they could have been; the only thing about them that all of them shared was the guilt.

A few days later

The last days were harder than usual for you; the pregnancy took a toll on you. The worst part was not hearing anything from your beloved Johnny for a long time. You were used to not hearing from him; you knew what you were getting into when you decided to marry him. But you never even thought about making him retire. You loved him since high school. How couldn't you? He was a charmer. He had been in love with you since you both were 6, starting elementary school.

He asked you at least every week if you wanted to marry him when you grew older. You always declined his advances. You were sure that you even hit him once for staring too long at you. He looked like an arrogant ass who could have anyone he wanted, but somehow, he never, not even for a second in his life, thought about another woman. So after some years, you decided to give him a chance, and you never regretted this decision once in your life.

The bell rang, and you were sure it must have been one of the neighbors asking if they could have milk or eggs from the farm. But before you could gather your pregnant body up, your six-year-old son ran up, opening the door. "Maybe it's Dad, Mommy!"

"James William MacTavish, how often did I tell you not to open the door?"

Your son was a spitting image of your Johnny. It got worse when he decided that he needed to cut himself a mohawk to look like his dad. You were so happy to see Johnny's reaction to the mohawk when he came back.

At the door stood three muscular, tall guys looking down at the little boy. As Kyle saw the spitting image of Johnny, he walked to the nearest trash can and threw up. It was too much for him. The thought of a wife was bad enough, but a son too.

You walked down and gathered your son who hugged your thigh. You looked at the men; one of them was a bit older with a funny beard, and the other one was blonde with a scared face.

When Price saw the visible baby bump, his heart broke. The thought of you not only having a son but also being pregnant gave him the rest; his guilt was eating him out.

"Mrs. MacTavish?"

"Yes?" you asked in confusion. They didn't seem like the villagers who wanted to buy something from the farm, nor the parents of your students.

"We need to talk about your husband."

"No," you knew what this meant; you knew it in your gut.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. MacTavish, but your husband died while protecting his country."

You always thought these films were dramatic, but it was nothing compared to what you felt right now. The pain was indescribable; you felt like someone pulled your ground from you, and you fell, completely in shock. Your tears slowly started to roll down, and you saw how the older man held the blonde one back from reaching out to you.

"No, my Johnny, he said he would always come back. He will come back, he will come back to us, he always will," you sobbed uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am."

From behind, Aiofe and Maeve ran down, our oldest, the twins. "Mom, are you okay?" All your three children sat down next to you, afraid that something happened to their mom.

That was the final straw as Ghost saw even more children, his best friend left behind a wife, three children, and a little one on the way. It should have been him.

You sobbed as you spoke to your children, "It's okay, Simon is just kicking hard in my belly, nothing is wrong with Mommy. I love you."

"We love you too, Mommy."

#johnny #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soapghost #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #hurtful #tw death

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dumblr · 1 year

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#quotes #pink aesthetic #skateboarding #emotions #aesthetics #art #tumblr art #caring #hurtful #feelings #love #wise words #thoughtful #sad quotes #sad thoughts #sad but true #dumblr

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juvenillia · 6 months

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~ happier ~ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader [hurt/comfort oneshot]

summary: After Simon already had lost so much in life, he now had lost the last thing that kept him whole. Little did he know...

a/n: Hey babes, I just saw a tiktok sound about the "don't choose him"-trope and I thought that was so Simon Riley coded so yeah, here we go

cw/tw: mentions of trauma, death, jealousy, guilt, hurt/comfort, tooth rotting fluff, break up, happy ending

worcount: 5.9k (maybe I got a bit carried away lol)

》 Read on AO3 《》Master Post《

It was a rather rainy September afternoon, the cold breeze brushing through his messy blonde hair as he stood in front of his apartment complex. The taxi just dropped him off a while ago, and since then he stood there. Starring at the entry, his hand clutching tight on his duffel bag. With a deep sigh his hand brushed through his damp hair while he inhaled the fresh autumn air through the simple black mask before finally stepping in. He didn’t want to come back. He didn’t want to leave but Price literally chased him away this time. The team just came back from a long deployment from God knows where, and he wanted to stay at base. Taking care of the aftermath as usual, but this time his Captain didn’t keep up with his coping mechanism and ordered him to go on leave.

He hadn’t set a foot in his apartment in the past nine months. Nine months filled with hard and bone crushing work to distract himself. Distracting himself from the void that washed over him as soon as the door behind him fell into the lock. He placed his bag onto the floor of his hallway when he saw the huge stack of mail behind the door. Invoices, advertisement, acknowledgements, all that kind of stuff. He didn’t even mind to flip through the envelopes, just threw them onto the kitchen counter. His place felt so different, nearly chaotic.

The plants died some time ago, nothing more than dry remnants in some soil. He opened the fridge, which was nearly as empty as this whole space felt like. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Another sigh left his throat before he pushed the crystalline door to the little balcony open, fished in his pockets for a fag. Pulling his mask down to ignite the cigarette. His glance wandering over the park next to the building. All the trees already wore a dress out of red and yellow leaves which danced in the wind. He could hear some children playing down there, some dogs barking. Somehow everything felt so at peace and still he felt nothing more than blank. He felt like a stranger in his own home.

He put the fag out and decided to tidy the mess up, before distracting him with whatever task he could find. He started with cleaning the whole place, disposing the dead plants and expired food he found in the last corners of the fridge. It took him some hours before everything was all over neat again. He then changed in some casual clothes before walking down to get some groceries for the time he had to stay here now. Always checking his phone for a message from Price, or Gaz or Soap. Anything that could make him return to his duties. Anything that would release him from the thoughts that started to haunt his mind. Thoughts he could easily dismiss as soon as he was on duty. When he was Ghost, but not when he was here.

“Mr. Riley?”, the old man from the store greeted him. He nodded in response, tired and exhausted eyes, yet a sincere smile on his lips. “Good to see you again, son.”, he chimed while starting to scan his products in. There was a huge supermarket around the corner, still he would always walk the extra meters to that indigenous small store owned by that old couple. “Haven’t seen you in forever. Must be happy to be back.”, Simon only nodded. A straightforward lie, but he didn’t need to tell him about the truth. He hated to be back.

Because everything was different to the last time. The last time he walked down this street he laughed while you complained about your coworkers. Clutching to the bag filled with the ingredients for some homemade cookies, and your favorite ice cream, while your hand was wrapped around his upper arm. When did all that changed? When did the world turned against him once more? That’s how he found himself walking that usual path back on his own. Left alone with the sheer thought of you, and once more his mind did haunt him. Replaying the image of the face when you told him over and over again in front of his inner eye.

But he understood your decision. He knew he was wrong for you, that you deserved so much better. He knew that he had ruined an angel. All the time waiting for him, just to be put down once more, when he couldn’t return home just yet. All the anxious calls before the deployment. The number of desperate messages he went through when he could turn his phone on again afterwards. All the tears you wasted for him. He just knew he would never be the man you needed, because you were so much better than him. And still he wanted nothing more than to be selfish and return home to you once more. The way his shitty apartment felt so much livelier filled with your laughter and complains. A privilege he had lost.

He remembered the day you told him about your decision like he remembered his morning drill at base. You mascara already smudged over your tear-stained face. He had promised to never be the cause of your crying and still he stood in front of you, feeling nothing more than hate towards himself, when you told him you couldn’t go on like this. “I love you, Si. I do… but sometimes love isn’t enough…”, your words echoed through his mind as he stood in the living room. Just on the same spot he stood on that fateful day. “What’d ya mean?”, he didn’t understand. “I mean… that I can’t be part of your life when you keep building walls around you.”, your voice was shaky between the sobs that broke out of your throat. “Wait... Love…”, his hands were nonstop shaking, something so uncommon for his so usual steady hands. Hands that were reaching out to you when you literally flinched away from him. “I hope you can become happy. I really wish you all the best…”, the tears started to stream down your face as you picked up the bag, filled with the last few things of yours that still remained in his place. “I’m thankful for everything we had…and I hope you know that you’ll always be a part of me.”, you didn’t dare to look at him as you left his -your shared- place.

How was he supposed to be happy when you took all the crazy little things that made his life better with you? Anytime his phone buzzed that night his heart stopped for a moment, hoping that you changed your mind, but now you already left his life for more than eleven months. He sunk into the couch, just like that evening. Not daring to move an inch. Even if all fibers in him screamed to run after you, he sat there frozen. Respecting your decision and knowing it was for the best. It was the best for you, and he never wanted anything less than the very best for you. Even if it meant to break him once more. This evening was the loneliest night after the night when he lost his family. That night he lost the last thing that gave him a meaning. The last thread that hold his pieces together.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened your chat. The last message still there, about eleven months ago. A bone crushing reminder of when you left his life. Just then he took noticed of your new profile picture. The pure soul you were, you hadn’t blocked him. He tapped it open and could feel his heart ache as he took in your features, a bright smile. A smile that had him mesmerized from the first time he witnessed it. Your hair neatly done and braided with a flower crown made from white roses. Your hand trying to cover your gorgeous smile. Then he suddenly took notice of something new. His heart clenched at the view of the little simple silver band around your left ring finger. A groan vibrated in his stomach. He stared at the picture, as a rope laced around his throat. It couldn’t be. He just cursed to himself.

He just wished it wasn’t true, but it just made sense. During the times when he raised his walls higher and higher you simply turned around to see the whole world and not only him. And there was someone that could treat you better than he ever could. That there was someone who would share his life with you rather than shutting you out. Someone who wouldn’t treat you as shitty as he did. Someone who wouldn’t take you for granted. Someone who wouldn’t make you cry, and still he wanted to be the person to call you his. He wanted that this smile, the smile that could brighten the darkest day, was aimed at him and not just some random dude.

He needed to make sure. Sitting up from the couch while leaning his forearms on his knees as he switched from the message app to his private Instagram account. An account Kyle forced him to create after one night in the pub. On that night when Simon maybe drunk a bit too much, he eventually had let slipped that he did meet you and Kyle was all alerted to get this to workout. So of course, he needed an Instagram account to seem more likable. And to be honest, Simon wanted to be likeable, for the first time he did care what someone would think of him. As long as that somebody was you.

The next morning he decided to go for a run and ran a few kilometers around the quarters. Longer than usual, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. All sweaty he stopped by a common coffee shop to get a well-made coffee before returning home. Just when he waited in line for him to order, he pulled his phone out once more. Starring at your name in his contacts. ‘Love’ was still written there. He never brought himself to change it. Because you still were the only thing, he ever admitted to truly love. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a voice approaching him. Just as he felt a small hand gently on his clothed shoulder he flinched, looking up and were greeted with some way too familiar eyes. He blinked a few times, believing his mind would trick him right now.

His account didn’t contain many pictures, a few from nice landscaped taking from the different countries he had to visit, one of Riley and him, what served as your screensaver for a very long time. Well not anymore, he supposed. He searched for your tag, and he scrolled through the last pictures you uploaded. Nowhere was a hint of a new guy in your life. Except for the picture of your engagement ring and the dozen words of congratulations the comments contained. Some pictures of the recent books you read always placed aesthetical next to a cup of tea, a picture of you and your girls on a night out.

He just stopped when he saw a familiar picture. It was nothing more than you curled up in an armchair, wearing a black hoodie, his hoodie. You haven’t deleted it. He was still part of your life, as you had promised. You didn’t just delete him out of it. He pinched the bridge of his nose when he put his phone away. Fighting the urge to write you. But what should he even message you? Everything would be inappropriate and wrong. That it was his biggest mistake to let you go? That he was happy for your engagement? Nothing would satisfy his real emotions. He pushed all of those thoughts, all the pain down just like he was used to and let Ghost take over his mind. Cutting out everything around him, as his body forced him to rest. A dreamless night on the couch and still he felt miserable the next morning.

“Si?”, you smiled at him, as beautiful as ever and he stood there completely stunned. You still called him that sweet nickname, the short only you were allowed to use. “Hey…”, he breathed out while shoving his phone back into his pocket. Leaving his hands in his pockets, to scared you could see how nervous he was. Seemed like that he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he jogged all the way to the place you worked back when you two dated, and as it seemed like you still do work here. There was a silence clinging between both of you, while taking in each other. He looked tired, somehow older you noticed. You looked as pretty as he remembered. “Sir?”, the voice of the young barista dragged him back to the place he stood. “Yeah…uhrm.”, he ordered his usual coffee, and quickly added another hot drink – your favorite - before turning back to you.

“How are ya?” – “How are you?”, both of you said at the same time and a little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. All of that felt so familiar, and still vicious at the same time. But sorrow was something Simon was used to it, and if this pain granted him some time in your presence, he’d gladly accept it. “Wanna take a seat, or are ya on the run?”, you smiled at him and shook your head no, while taking a place at one of the tables. A table you often sat when he visited you during your work breaks. “So, how are you?”, you said calm, while sipping on your coffee. A weak smile playing around your lips when you realized that he even remembered the little flavor drop you loved in it.

You had such a pure soul that you simply could sit down with him and talk to him, like he wouldn’t be your ex. Just as some good old friends catching up. It broke his heart even more. “Steady.”, he answered somehow distant. Trying to suppress all the emotions that started to boil in the pit of his stomach at your sight. You nodded with that sweet smile he knew too well, “Always the same, huh?” He nodded and at the same time he wanted to argue that he wasn’t the same. Not at all. “So, when’s ‘e big day?”, his sudden question let you swallow on your drink. He pointed at the ring on your finger, and you sighed. “Saturday, in two weeks.”, you only said. There laid something between your tone he couldn’t read, so he only nodded once more. “Didn’t ya wanted a white winter wedding?”, he kept the eye contact when you tried to avoid it at all costs. “Cannot have everything.”, you weakly laughed. A laugh that had hidden so much more below the surface. Simon caught how your voice changed and your hands constantly fidgeted with the cup, but he didn’t want to push it any further. The silence once more taking over the space between you. It was an awkward tension laying in the air. Still, he wanted to ask you so much, wanted to tell you so much, yet he couldn’t.

That’s when your phone went off, a sigh of relief but at the same time annoyance left your throat. “Sorry… need to head back. Before…” – “Before Mara lets the printer explode and Barry loses his mind.”, he ended your sentence and a vicious smile tugged at your lips. How could he still remember all those things. “Yeah… it was nice to see you, Si. Thanks for the coffee.”, the painful smile turning into a genuine one. He hummed in appreciation, as you stood up and putting the phone back into your pocket.

Just then he reached out to you to get hold of your wrist, gently but firm, just when you wanted to walk away. “Don’t marry him…” The phrase left his throat out of nowhere. His mouth faster than his brain could even process what he just said. He couldn’t carry this anymore, he let you go once, he wouldn’t commit to the same mistake a second time. You blinked at him in sheer shock. “Don’t do that to me…”, you shook your head, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. “Are ya happier?”, he breathed out, his tone bitter as his eyes starred into yours. Your brows furrowed. He knew how selfish his actions were, but he couldn’t help it. His thumb slowly stroking over the inside of your wrist. He needed to know. Only then he could accept it, only then he could try to let you go. “Simon…”, you mumbled, as your lips pressed into a thin line, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Answer me, love.”, his words rolled so carelessly over his lips. You couldn’t. Only starring back into those dark eyes that wouldn’t let go of yours, and felt tears prick at the corner of your own. Everything you could answer him, everything you wanted to answer him would somehow be a lie. You were happy, but that wasn’t his question, and he could read it in your eyes. He let go of your wrist, as he stood up from his seat. He would never force you to say or do something, he couldn’t make you love him. He knew that. But the soldier inside of him knew, that this fight wasn’t over. The way your eyes spoke volumes to him. The way he could feel your pulse quickened as his palm was still rested on your skin. A desperate sigh left his throat. Your silence told him more than you thought. “I’d walk through ‘ell to find a way to keep ya in ma life. Even if it meant to burn the whole bloody world down…”

You only stood there, your mind running a marathon of thoughts at the sincere words he spoke out so easily. A phrase that let your heart make a jump and at the same time it shattered. You averted your gaze, trying to hold back the tears. “Goodbye, Si.”, you simply stated while turning on your heel. You didn’t want to cry in front of him again. You didn’t want to admit what power he still held over you. You didn’t want to show him how you lied to yourself when trying to avoid answering his questions. That way you left him behind and went back to work. And once more he felt the sheer guilt laying on his shoulders. He didn’t see the hot tears rolling down, but he knew you too well. The empty silence greeted him like an old friend, and he went back to his place. Cursing himself for the whole interaction. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why couldn’t he simply let you become happy? It should be enough for him, seeing you happy living the life your deserved and he would go after his drilled one, just like before.

But nothing was like before. You simply changed everything. He was a broken man when you met him on that cold night in January. Effortlessly trapping him in a lovely chat, a conversation that saved him, and still he tried to keep his distance. And you had nothing better to do than picking up all the pieces and built him back together. So much effort, so much energy and so much love you spent for him. Earning his trust and giving him a place for his soul to heal and rest. Creating him a place to call home. How couldn’t he hold on to what you had provided him with? Still, he was back in his apartment alone with his demons, and they teared him apart worse than ever. So he decided to send a message to his captain.

Simon R. [15:23]

Let me come back. I’m sure there’s something I can help with.

Captain Price [16:01]

No chance, Lieutenant. Use the time reasonably.

Captain Price [16:03]

That’s an order!

He literally threw the phone across the room. How should he use this time useful? Price should’ve known better. Simon thought back to the day when he told his captain about you for the first time, and he remembered the proud beam on his face. You were the first civilian Simon even mentioned around his team, you were the first one to meet them. So, Price knew that this time was nothing more than waiting in patience to return. But somehow his captain hoped for something different, he couldn’t have known that you were engaged and this time on leave was breaking him more than anything.

Simon R. [16:06]

Roger, sir.

There was nothing he could do, besides going after his usual habits. Morning runs, hitting the gym, cooking some quick meals, helping whatsoever neighbor needed something done in their home. Everything that would keep him busy was greatly appreciated.

The time passed by, and every night he found himself on the balcony. Thinking back to nights he spent here with you. You cuddled up in front of him, while he refused to smoke while you’d cuddle and you’d always just say, that you wouldn’t leave, so he rather just smoked if he wanted to or stop it in general. You never complained about his smoking, but you would keep teasing him about it and he would just pull you closer to him. He didn’t need those cigarettes when he could inhale your scent anyways.

Where did the downward spiral begin? When did he start to distant himself without even noticing it? Was it after the Las Almas incident? Was it after his teammate nearly died because of him? Was it when he realized that one day, he might not be able to return to you? He couldn’t tell and he tried to make it out eagerly. Searching and scanning in all your interactions for the mistakes he committed. Nightmares haunted him night after night and every day he got up and went after his choirs again. Waiting for a message from Price to draft him in sooner than expected. To finally get some redemption before the two-week mark was overstepped. He couldn’t bear that day, knowing what happened on that Saturday. Knowing that on this Saturday you’d be officially off limits, and he wouldn’t dare to ruin it anymore. This Saturday… this Saturday. Fuck, it was today.

Anyways he dared to look up your social media, seeing if he could catch a glimpse of the pure perfection you’d be in your pretty white dress. But there was nothing found. What wasn’t so unusual, you never were the person to openly show your life online so easily. Especially not after the two of you started dating. You became more reserved with information about yourself because Simon would always be scared that someone could use you against him. That way there was never a picture of both of you found on your social media pages. Just a little S with a heart in your bio. A bio that was nearly empty now. But today, you’d post something, he was sure. That day was something so freaking special, you needed to show the world how gorgeous you’d look. And with that you would show him what he had lost. But somehow you spared him with that. It was already noon, and nothing was found on your page. That’s how he went after his day, completely lost and in complete autopilot. Not even thinking about anything he did. Just existing, his body carrying him through the day and letting the time pass.

It was about nine when he got on the balcony. Still in his dark green pajama pants, and a plain white shirt, an easy black zip up jacket. No socks, no mask, only a fag between his lips. Exhaling a deep cloud of smoke into the night. Just then he could hear a buzzing from the living room. He sighed, another cloud of smoke leaving his lungs. Probably only a dumb meme from Johnny, an attempt to cheer him up, but maybe it was the long-awaited message from his Captain. So, he decided to head in, to pick up his phone. The fag still clutched between his lips. He tapped the screen of his phone and as soon as the screen light up he found himself paralyzed. The fag slipping out from his lips, which were parted in shock. The cigarette burning his hand dragged him back into the reality. He quickly caught the fag before burning the whole place down, and then opened the message. The message that came from you. His mouth went completely dry as stared down on the words.

He read over those lines over and over, he couldn’t get a grip what you wanted to tell him. What made you think of that occasion now?

Love [21:13]

Do you remember when Johnny bragged about that one French wine after Mel dumped him, and we spent your last day on leave driving from Manchester to Edinburgh picking him up, over to Dover just to catch a ferry to buy that stupid wine and the whole way back? Just that you got deployed to Toulouse afterwards and he could drink so much of that damn wine…

Simon R. [21:21]

Could never forget about it. It was bloody stupid.

A desperate chuckle left his throat. It was one of his favorites as well. The way you’d sing stupid songs with Johnny to sheer him up, trade dumb childhood stories, and the way your hand was always entangled with his. It made the world seem so much more peaceful.

Love [21:23]

One of my favorite memories, tbh

Simon R. [21:25]

What made you think of that? Especially today…

He sighed. He couldn’t suppress the turns his stomach took. Still, he couldn’t blame you, such a day could get someone emotional and nostalgic. It was somehow relatable. He already regretted his question.

Simon R. [21:26]

You must be tired as fuck after such a long day.

Love [21:32]

Well… I did imagine the day to be different…

Time suddenly froze. The little three dots signaling your typing made him anxious. He starred down at the screen, the fag long forgetting, the ash on the anyhow ugly carpet. His foot bounced repeatedly on the floor, while he not dared to avert his eyes. The time until your answer plopped up on his screen felt unbearable. His chest heavy like he had to carry a whole tank. He felt weak, small, just because of the time you needed to answer.

Simon R. [21:33]

What do you mean?

Love [21:47]

Couldn’t do it…

His chest heaving as he starred at your answer. His trembling fingers typed and answer. Never letting go of the phone as he already pulled on some socks, before searching for his boots.

Love [21:48]

It wasn’t fair…not to me, but esp not to him…

Simon R. [21:49]

Where are you?

Love [21:50]

Remember where we met…the park by the cemetery.

Love [21:58]

Si?

And he was. He never was faster seated on his motorbike than now. He drove like a madman. Usually, he would let his thoughts process everything. Outlining a plan before jumping into something, but not this time. Not when he got a second chance right in reach. His mind was blank. The only thought that filled his brain cells were you. And soon he found himself in the park. The park where he met you for the very first time some years ago. The day that changed his life, and it once more gave him the chance to turn it around. His breath got caught right in his throat as he took your figure in.

Simon R. [22:00]

Don’t fucking move. Already on my way.

You were seated at the very first steps of a war memorial. The place where he met you completely random when he paid his tribute to fallen soldiers. An old habit he committed to anytime he returned save. It was snowing like hell, everything was white, just like the dress you wore right now. His feet carried him over to you, as you still looked down on the screen. His eyes were pinned on you, trying to burn this image into his brain and never letting go of it. That’s when you looked up and a tired smile tugged at your lips. He was so underdressed compared to you. Still in those pajama pants, because there was no time to change properly, when you were the most perfect dress, he could’ve imagined you in.

“You literal broke a few laws while rushing here. Speeding, taking dead ends and stuff. You could’ve taken some more time. You know.”, you said while standing up. A teasing tone laying in your voice. You looked breathtaking, better than his wildest dreams would even allow him to imagine. A smile planted on his lips as he stood right in front of you. “Not a patient person.”, he breathed out while taking his jacket off to wrap it over you. It was still freezing cold, and he saw the goosebumps amongst your skin. “You’re reckless, Simon Riley.”, he came closer, just when you put his hands on his chest. The familiar body warmth creeping up your cold palms. His hands lingering on your waist, as he starred in your eyes and pulled you closer, just the slightest. “And yer stunnin’, darlin’.” A slight blush crept over your face, maybe due the coldness lingering in your muscles, but maybe it was because of him.

You were standing here like the whole opposites you were. He was the stern and strong soldier, casual and reckless. Solid as rock during the heaviest tidal wave. He was your protector. You were his princess with the purest soul and heart. The lighthouse that guided him home anytime he needed. Anytime he needed to let go of Ghost.

In that moment it felt like the world stopped spinning. Nothing else mattered. “Si…” – “I know ’s too much to ask for forgiveness ‘n I know ‘m not in ‘e position to ask for anythin’ at all…and fuckin’ ‘ell. ‘m not good at that kinda stuff…. but…”, before he could keep going you interrupted him. Forcefully pulling him closer to you by his shirt, until the gap between you was fully closed and you felt the familiar sensation of his lips against yours. Your eyes closed, as his calloused palm reached for your face and cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

Just when you tried to pull away, he made sure that you wouldn’t go anywhere. His hand firmly steadying you in your position as he leaned his forehead against yours. Your whiny voice reaching his ears. “Just shut up already and take me home, alright I’m freezing my ass off.” A stupid grin planted on his face, which wouldn’t fade any time soon. “Anythin’ ya want.”, he said while placing his hands around your body before easily lifting you up what earned him a sudden shriek as you clung around his neck. Carrying you bridal style over to his bike. Always having a spare helmet for you in. That’s totally not how you imagined the day you’d first wear a wedding dress, clinging to the beefy back from Simon, one hand holding on to the gathered fabric hoping it wouldn’t cause any accident, the other tightly slung around him while he carefully made his way back. But you couldn’t ask for something more.

It took you some time to completely warm up again, you nearly spent the whole day in that damn park considering if you could just write him or not, and you definitive should’ve done it earlier. The cold clung to your muscles. After taking a hot shower and ditching the dress for an oversized hoodie from his closet and some briefs, you were now curled up in a blanket on the couch. Laying against his firm chest, brawn arms wrapped around you, scared that this could be a dream. Scared that you could vanish any second if he’d let you go. He never stopped to prepper the crown your head with kisses while you twirled his fingers with your own. A genuine silence hanging around that place, that finally felt like home again. Something he’d never let go of again. “To answer your question…”, you broke the silence while tilting your head towards him. Looking in his deep dark eyes. “I am happier now.”, the sweet smile returning to your lips before he placed his onto them. “ ’s everythin’ I could’ve ever asked for, love.”, he breathed out as you parted for a brief moment before closing the gap once more. Right now, he felt like a starved man, but nobody could blame him.

You were the only thing he ever wanted for his own sake. And nobody could blame him, that he already got you a ring himself, about two years ago to be precise, he just never found the right time to drop the big question. But after tonight, he was eager to do so at some point. Just giving the two of you some more time, to get back settled in. But you’d got a lot of time ahead, for anything to work out. Simon made a mental note, that he would never let another man try to accomplish what was his personal lifelong mission; to make you happy.

It was quite late when Simon woke up the next day. You still spread across his chest, clinging onto him, when he remembered how both of you fell asleep on the couch last night. He listened to you little snores as he started to believe, that sometimes the world could be alright. You made it alright, and a smile played along his lips. If enduring all the pain brought him back into your embrace, it would always been worth it. That’s when his phone buzzed, he reached out to grab it, careful to not wake you up.

He hesitated for a short moment, before he pressed the little camera icon on his phone.

Captain Price [12:19]

Maybe I do have a task for you.

Simon R. [12:23]

image attached

Captain Price [12:25]

Forget about it. See you in two weeks, Loverboy.

Captain Price [12:27]

Give her finally that bloody ring…

Bonus:

John couldn’t suppress a chuckle when he starred down at his phone. The sweetest image plopping up when he shook his head in amusement. And with his reaction he immediately had a specific Scot emerge behind him, starring at the phone over his Captain’s shoulder. A bright grin growing on his face. “Was ‘bout damn time…”, he instantly pulled his own phone out.

Soap [12:31]

istg… Lt if yer choose Garrick as yer best man …

Soap [12:33]

I AM FOR REAL

Soap [12:34]

ach ‘nd tell lass I said hi!!

Soap [12:35]

I’m happy for yer <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost hurt #simon ghost riley hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #exboyfriend ghost #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #hurtful #ghost fanfiction

281 notes · View notes

in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine · 8 months

Text

#art #spilled thoughts #quotes #photographers on tumblr #overthinking #sad thoughts #hurtful #people pleaser

244 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 2 months

Text

✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

Part 2

#jensen ackles #spn #smut #dean winchester #supernatural #demon dean #demon dean x Reader #hurtful #rapekink #misogny #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

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