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#Echo: can I offer you emotional support in these trying times?
clonememesfrikyeah · 2 years
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Rex, trying to give a motivational speech but then it evolved into him casualty talking about his really really fucked up cadethood:
“-I mean yeah all the other kids bullied me, hated me even, and no one liked me or even came near me. Come to think of it I did get shuffled around a lot, but that’s just because my entire original batch was decommissioned. And yeah I did have a lot of near death experiences, but I only needed to be resuscitated a handful of times. Ha, there was that one time a trainer threw me off a platform because they were sick of dealing with all my paperwork, but I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and hauled myself out of the ocean. You know what they say; you want something done you gotta do it yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you! I think I came out the other side just fine and I’m stronger because of it! :)”
The entire 501st: “…whAT THE FUUUUUCK!”
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archieimagines · 1 year
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Imagine ranting to Din while he repairs the Razor Crest.
finally, it’s written! this request has been sat on my list for a while, so to those who requested it, thank you for your patience! requested by: @ackermanbitch​ and an anon! written by: archie support me on ko-fi!
this is inspired by @yournewwriter‘s gentle prompts: moving you by the waist.
If there was one thing you could do, it was talk.
At first, Din hated it. He hated how you’d walked into the Crest like it was your home when he was only offering you a lift to a nearby system, he’d hated how you’d talked the whole time… and he hated how he’d accidentally grown fond of you.
He became glad to offer you a temporary place by his side when your situation shifted and you needed a residence, but there was no way he was expecting you to stick around for this long and still have so many stories to tell.
Somehow, tuning into your rambles both passed the time and helped him focus. He could fly easily with your words taking up a different space in his brain, and all the hours felt so much shorter, like he’d been travelling the universe beside you. You somehow kept him cheerful and engaged, even in the tough times. You had a natural knack for knowing what kind of story to tell, how to echo and fix his moods with your own experiences, which gave him an outlet for his own emotions. 
And that’s how it was right now, his mood utterly foul as he worked on repairing the Crest after a sticky run-in, but his scowl was placed on hold. Or at least, directed to Mr Narvo, your old, snail-esque colleague in that restaurant on Corellia.
“I swear, I hadn’t done a thing wrong. The order was correct, I did everything to match what the stupid customer had asked for, but he really just-- You know what?” You wandered by him as you talked, frustrated and pacing as all the irritation from working at that restaurant came right back. “I think he’d decided that it would be a bad day for me already. He slithered in and just knew he was gonna try and get me fired.”
You paused your pacing, facing the beskar-clad warrior as he retracted an arm from inside the ship’s panel.
“-And he just kinda blinked at me. You know that eye thing?” Your hands, which had been flapping around animatedly, lifted to hold invisible spheres above your head. “Like the antennae lean forward and just look at you and squint and- honestly it’s so annoying because I can feel how he’s judging me but like? At least my eyeballs aren’t half a metre above from my head, right?”
“Right,” came Din’s voice as he dipped into a toolbox, proceeding to reach back into the side of his ship and twist some valves. His voice was a dry monotone, but he hadn’t once told you to shut up yet, so that was all you needed to continue your spiel.
“Right! So I just- I don’t mean to be rude, but I kinda do- I couldn’t keep it in, okay?” Din halted your pacing and handed you the metal tool, reaching into the Crest again. “… I told him to go stick his eyeballs in the dishwasher.”
Din paused. He turned to look at you. You were almost sure he’d tell you that it was a low blow, or that it wasn’t worth such a threat, but his modulated voice rose with a question. “And did he?”
“Wh- No, Din. Why would he-“
He shrugged one shoulder, stepping away to rummage in the toolkit once more. “That guy was purposely villainizing you, day after day. The least he could do would be-“
“If the universe was a decent place he’d be blinking bubbles, I know,” you chattered on, wandering once again. “But unfortunately, the universe is horrible, Narvo is still out there terrorising colleagues and-“ You stopped dead, peering down at the helmeted man, busy with his tools. “He got me fired.”
Din stopped his hands, visor raised up at you. Of course you couldn’t see his expression, but you didn’t need to as his disbelief met your ears. “It worked?”
“I know!?” You toyed with the tool, the weight falling from hand to hand, gripping it with each as if to decide which hand would better suit hitting Narvo in the eyeball with it, mouth running a mile a minute all the while. “He went straight to the manager, clearly he’d been building up some bullshit case of all the things I’d apparently done wrong— which I always had a particular reason for, by the way, and they were never even against the rules—”
The irritation still buzzed in your veins, even if it was months ago. What started as your attempt to take Din’s mind off the frustration from a damaged ship had turned into a surprise therapy session that seemed to uproot some sort of inferiority complex, and now you were just airing out your issues without even being aware of Din bustling around you.
“Like, I’m a good worker, you know? I take pride in that because I actually care about what I put into the universe, I strive to make this shitty place better for the people, unlike Narvo. He was just there to feed his own-”
Gentle hands on your waist had you startled, and your gaze shot up to the visor, eyes wide and an unmistakable heat to your cheeks. He’d never touched you like this before.
You couldn’t help leaning into his hold, heart beating like crazy-
A gentle pressure from one hand had you stepping aside, and then it was gone.
He leant past you, reaching into the metal hood of the ship. You’d parked right in front of it without even noticing, far too wrapped up in the fury of your tale.
“Keep going,” he spoke, and you fumbled to find your words again, fiddling with the tool in your hands.
“Wh- What was I saying again?”
A gloved hand reached back to take the tool from your hands. “He was just feeding his ego by preying on you. It’s better to keep away from characters like that.”
Your stride finally came back to you and the story continued in your mind, but the sure flutter in your chest was going at full force. “Right, I learned that by now.”
“You want me to put a hit on him?”
You scoffed. “Din, please. …But if we stop off at Corellia, he’ll shit himself when he sees me with a Mandalorian.”
A soft breath of laughter, so quiet you almost missed it. “Then that’s our next stop.”
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halsteadlover · 9 months
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Shadows From The Past
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested by anon: I don’t really know if this is how you make a request if it’s not correct me but would you possibly be able to write one where Jay has an episode because of a criminal that took tours in Afghanistan as well, like an episode in the show in season 5 I think. Where the criminal gets shot and dies and J is the only one there and you go to check up on him and he points gun at you because he’s having an episode idk I really don’t know, but could it end in him apologizing a lot and feeling really bad then just cuddles?? Thank u and uh if you see this could you pls just remind me when it’s done possibly. Thank you so much!!!❤️
• Warnings: mention of blood, gun, PTSD.
• Word count: 5825.
• A/N: hi everyone! Long time no see. I know this is ugly af but I tried my best. I hope you’ll like this piece anyway, please let me know what you think. Comment, like, reblog if you want this would be amazing! Thank you so much for your support, and for everyone who stayed even if I upload once every 100 years 😭 I love you all so much ❤️
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Jay had always tried to do his job the best he could, giving everything in his power to every case he worked on, always trying to focus on nothing but bringing justice to the poor victims. He had always tried to be as objective as possible, leaving emotions out and thinking and planning every move to make lucidly. Some cases were easier, others a little less.
There were moments of his life, some shadows of his past, that still echoed in his present. They sometimes came back so strong and overbearing, they made him risk his present, all his progress and happiness, even his future.
And the case he was working on was one of those moments.
Following the discovery of a man's body, Intelligence was assigned to investigate this case. After questioning witnesses, analyzing the victim's life, talking to family and friends, suspicion fell on a person Jay met while serving overseas in Afghanistan. In fact, Don Stanton had served in the 3rd Battalion of the 75th Ranger Regiment at the same time as Jay, but he had never had the opportunity to speak in depth with him.
In fact, after returning home, Don didn't do too well, soon spiraling into drug, alcohol and illegal dealings.
From the moment they found out about this suspect, Jay felt something stir inside him, though he didn't know exactly what. He tried to disguise it or he would’ve estranged from the case but he couldn't hide his feelings from you, who knew him like the back of your hand and had learned to know every single nuance of him and recognize when something bothered him.
To try to get Don to confess, Jay offered to go undercover, build a relationship with him in a way that would make him trust him, and no one could be perfect for this role except someone who had gone through the exact same shit during the war as Jay.
It goes without saying that you didn’t agree with this decision at all and Voight would’ve even agreed with you if this wasn’t the only lead you got to catch the killer.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked Jay as you adjusted his hidden microphone in his shirt. “You can always back out, someone else will go or we will find other leads to catch him.”
Jay sighed. “It's an undercover operation like any other Y/N, if anyone can do it it's me.”
You looked up at him, your hands still on his chest as you tried to analyze his expression on his face. “No baby, it's not an operation like any other. The suspect served in your own battalion, you met him and you can tell from a mile away you're upset about…-”
“Goddamn Y/N stop it! You've been asking me if I'm okay since this morning! I'm fine, I don't need a babysitter!” he snapped raising his voice and this sudden outburst made you withdraw your hands in shock.
Jay immediately regretted those words the instant he said them. He noticed the sad expression that appeared on your features and felt guilty like few other times in his life. “Baby… Shit…” he sighed again, running his hands over his face in frustration. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I don't know what has gotten into me. I’m sorry baby.”
You remained silent for a few seconds, looking at him for a moment before speaking. “Jay I'm just worried about you, I know it's hard for you but I want to help you… It breaks my heart seeing you like this,” you mumbled softly, your throat tight in a knot, your heart heavy.
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry love. Come here,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug and holding you with all the love he could. “It'll be okay. I can do it. You don't know what people like him are like, like me, he won't trust anyone and if there's someone who can make him confess it’s me. We served together, we saw the same crap, I can understand him,” he continued, pulling away from the hug and looking into your eyes.
You looked at him intensely, as if you wanted to read inside him, trying to discover a shred of hesitation or uncertainty.
“Jay, you are not like him, he is an alleged murderer, drug addict and alcoholic, you are a decorated detective. Don't even think for a second you're like him, okay?”.
He caressed your hair, and then nodded, smiling slightly. “I know, I know.”
“If something, anything, goes wrong you're out, you understand me?” you threatened him, pointing a finger at his chest.
He chuckled, caressing your cheeks. “Yes ma'am. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
If only he believed it too.
The truth was, Jay's mind was racing and image after image, memory after memory, everything seemed to be resurfacing, moments of the past he wanted to forget at all costs but which was about to overwhelm him like a river in flood.
He didn't want to talk to you about it, he knew he'd get over it – just like he had all time – he didn't want to worry you any more than you already were.
While he was in the car waiting for Don Stanton to show up, he read the message you sent and a small smile crept onto his lips.
From Baby D💕, 3.13pm
Be careful love. I'm here for whatever you need. I love you.
That message made the abyss in his heart grow and a feeling of guilt took over him. But the way he loved you, God, he didn’t know what he would’ve done without you.
From Jay, 3:16pm
I love you too babe, more than anything and everyone. Everything will be okay.
He put the cell phone back in his trouser pocket, trying to concentrate exclusively on the case. He sat in the car for about ten minutes before seeing Don in the distance. He looked around suspiciously before approaching Jay's car and quickly getting in.
“Drive,” Don ordered, and Jay gave him a confused look.
“Where? What is going on?”.
Don snapped his eyes at Jay. “Didn't you say you wanted a job? Drive then. Go straight, at the first crossroads turn left, I'll tell you from there where to go next.”
Jay understood there was no way to get an explanation and after letting out a sigh, he started driving, aware that you and the rest of the team would’ve followed him from afar.
After driving for about twenty minutes, he and Don arrived at an abandoned building. It looked shabby and it must’ve been unused for at least twenty years.
“What the hell is going on Stanton?” Jay asked, for the umpteenth time. Don stopped in his footsteps, turning to him, looking annoyed and angry.
“What part of ‘I'll explain in a moment’ you don’t understand?”.
“I won’t do anything until you explain to me what hell is going on. This place is clearly a mile away from legality and I'm not risking my ass for whatever bullshit is going on here. So either tell me what's going on or I'm out.”
Don sighed, glancing between Jay and the building, looking uncertain, even almost frightened. Jay noticed this and realized whatever was going on, they weren't alone and that there was nothing good about that abandoned building.
He approached Jay, walking fast and hands in his trouser pockets. “Then leave.”
“C'mon man talk to me...”.
“Damn it! I'm in deep shit man, I can't back out!” he exclaimed in despair.
“Why? What did you do?”.
They were all at the edge of their chairs as they listened through Jay's microphone conversation, knowing that a little nudge was enough to get Don Stanton to confess.
“Don, talk to me. I can help you, I know you're not doing well, I totally understand. You don't have to do anything, whatever it is...”
“You can't help me… I… I fucking killed a man!” Stanton exclaimed loudly, running his hands through his hair “But it wasn't my fault! They forced me! I… I really needed the money…”
There were some moments of silence in which you and Voight exchanged a look. He confessed, but why didn't Jay arrest him?
“What are we going to do here Don?” Jay asked, trying to stay calm as his heart was pounding.
“They gave me another job. A gang member… They want me to kill him and they’ll pay me almost ten thousand dollars.”
“Don, for fucks sale! No life is worth this money! How can you do this? You were a fucking soldier, you risked your life to protect others, to protect this country and now you're the one hurting people!” Jay exclaimed, more angrily than he would’ve liked.
“I know! I know! They've foreclosed on my house… I'm out of money… I need it man…” Don muttered.
“Halstead what are you waiting for? Handcuff him,” Voight ordered over his mic but Jay didn't seem to listen, in fact, he didn't even seem to be on this planet anymore.
You were worried sick, your stomach was in a vice. You knew Jay couldn't do this, he was too involved to be able to deal with all of this, to deal with his past.
“Voight we have to do something,” you said, turning to your now impatient boss.
“Let's just wait few seconds.”
But when you saw Jay enter the building your heart stopped for an instant and fear took over. Before Voight could say anything, you leapt out of the car at lightning speed, waiting for no one, thinking of no one but Jay.
You pulled out your gun from your holster before entering the abandoned building. It was larger than it appeared externally and at first sight there was no sign of Jay.
Your heart was beating so hard you could hear it pounding in your ears and with every step you took, fear ate you more and more. What the hell was he thinking? Why did he come in here alone with a criminal?
As you climbed the creaking stairs to the first floor, a shot rang out from the walls and you jumped. “Oh my god,” you murmured in a trembling voice before starting to run as fast as possible towards the place where the shot came from. Your mind began to project images of Jay lying in a pool of his own blood, dying, and the very thought made you die inside.
God let him be okay, please.
Once you climbed to the third floor, however, you saw him in the distance but before you could take a step towards him or even take a sigh of relief, a bullet was fired in your direction, forcing you to take cover behind a pillar.
A gun fight with some men ensued, and though you knew you had to focus on saving your own life, you couldn't help but glance at Jay from time to time, noticing him hunched over Don Stanton, trying to revive him.
The rest of the squad arrived at that moment and you managed to take down three men who were shooting at you. You approached Jay while the others explored the rest of the building for anything suspect.
“Jay,” you called but he didn't seem to hear you as he tried to stop Stanton's bleeding, “Jay,” you called him out again but still nothing, no answer. So you placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to make him aware of your presence but that touch made him stiffen and you almost had a heart attack when he pulled out his gun and turned, pointing it at you.
“Woah!” you exclaimed loudly, spontaneously raising your hands to let him know you were unarmed, “Jay, what the hell are you doing?!”.
His gaze was fixed on you but he wasn't really looking at you, his eyes were empty, without the light that characterizes them, his forehead was wet with sweat as his chest rose and fell quickly as if he had run a marathon.
“Jay put that gun down. It's just me. Can you hear me? Everything is fine.”
You continued to speak but your voice reached far into his ears which continued to ring incessantly. You didn't dare take a wrong step, or try to get him to put down his gun because you knew Jay wasn't there right now, that his mind was unconscious and his body uncontrollable. He was still in war and he saw you like an enemy and not his girlfriend.
But that didn't make the moment any less scary.
Jay, the person you most trusted in the world, with whom you felt safest, was pointing a gun at you and anything could trigger him to shoot you. You've never felt so small and helpless, even after facing the most dangerous and depraved criminals, you felt so scared and intimidated.
He'd had similar episodes, where the PTSD made him lose touch with reality, but he'd never come to that, never pointing a gun at you and threatening to hurt you.
“Jay!” you almost screamed and only then did Jay seem to come to his senses.
When he realized he was pointing his gun at you a wave of guilt fully overwhelmed him and he dropped the gun from his hands in disbelief at what he had just done.
What the hell had he been up to? Was he really point a gun at you? The love of his life?
He couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe he was capable of doing such a thing and as he watched your face contorted in an expression of pure fear and terror, as he watched you back away until you ran away, he realized he seriously needed help.
-
The case was finally closed but never like then it left you an unbridgeable abyss inside you.
Since you'd left that building you'd been trying to avoid Jay even though he'd been trying hard to talk to you. You knew it wasn't his fault, that what happened was just a consequence of everything he'd been through, that knowingly he wouldn't do anything that could hurt you.
But that episode had shocked you more than you could ever admit and the image of that gun pointed at you continued to haunt your mind.
You were at your house, sitting on the couch staring at nothing in particular, contemplating whether to respond to Jay's many texts and calls. You knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't avoid him forever, but you needed some alone time first, to digest everything that had happened.
But when the bell rang you understood this was not going to happen.
You stood up and your heart skipped a beat when you saw through the peephole it was Jay. You took a deep breath and opened the door, realizing you couldn't avoid him forever and sooner or later you had to deal with the confrontation.
Jay was a walking disaster.
He didn't know what to say, what to do, how to act and especially when he noticed the way you kept avoiding his gaze, he panicked even more. You made room for him to enter and he felt his heart break when, in an attempt to say hi, you pulled back slightly.
“Uhm… Hi… Come in,” you murmured nervously before going to sit back on the sofa.
Jay closed the door behind him, walking over and sitting next to you. You brought your knees to your chest and he didn’t miss this gesture, he didn't miss the way you tried to distance yourself from him, how you tried to protect yourself by moving away from him.
“How are you feeling?” you asked feebly, finally looking up at him and a chasm opened inside you as you saw his tired, destroyed eyes, the melancholy expression on his face.
“I'm fine but...”
“No Jay,” you interrupted him “Don't start with these lies, you know I can't stand them. You pointed a damn gun at me, you are definitely not fine.”
You knew it was tough, but it was time for him to face the shadows of his past that kept haunting him, it was time for him to face reality and realize he wasn't good at all, that he kept lying to himself and pretending to be in a state of well-being which, unfortunately, wasn’t true at all.
He sighed and it was him who lowered his gaze that time, unable to look in your eyes anymore. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before resting his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He was silent for a moment before returning to his previous position.
“You're right…” he murmured, almost afraid to admit it aloud, “I… I'm not okay I know, I’ve realized it… But Y/N, darling, I just want you to know I would’ve never done that… I would never hurt you…”
“Jay…” you sighed “I know that, but… But what if you won't regain control of yourself next time? What if you won’t come to your senses and shoot me?”
“No! No! Fuck… This will never happen again, I swear…”
“And how do you know this, Jay?” you asked, a lump in your throat, eyes brimming with tears as you tried to hold them back. “How do you know you’ll be able to stop the next time that in the grip of a similar episode you’ll point a gun at me again?”.
Jay had never experienced a worse feeling in his life. He always promised himself he would given his life to protect you, that he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe, that he’d rather die than know you were suffering.
He loved you more than anyone else in the world, more than he ever thought he’d love someone and knowing he was the one who tried to hurt you, destroyed him. He’d never forget the expression of fear, terror and pure shock with which you looked at him in that damned building, it would’ve haunted him forever.
“I would never hurt you Y/N, you… You are the most precious thing in my life. God, I'd die to protect you…” he babbled in desperation.
“I know, Jay. I consciously know this,” you answered, putting your feet on the ground and approaching him without touching him. “I want to help you, but...”
“But what?” he whispered, his green eyes bright with tears as he looked at you. A tear slid from your eyes onto your cheek but you immediately wiped it away before you spoke again. “You want to leave me right? You are afraid of me?”.
You remained silent for a moment.
“Y/N I… You can't leave me please, I can't do this without you, I need you. You're the only person I'm still here for, helping me through this shit… Please…”
You cried. “I have to protect myself Jay,” you wiped away another tear “I don't want to leave you, God. I love you so much…”
“But you're afraid of me,” he stated, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked down at the floor and his shoes to try and mask the tears he couldn't control anymore and streamed down his cheeks. He stood up, suddenly feeling suffocated, and ran his hands over his face as he began pacing around the living room.
“Hey…” you said, standing up and approaching him. You placed your hands on his arms to make him stop and he directed his eyes at you. They were red and shiny from tears and God only knew how much it hurt you to see him like this, how much he didn't deserve all that suffering.
You placed your hands on his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “God baby,” you whispered “I hate seeing you like this…”. He hugged you, squeezing you so tight it made you gasp for breath.
You hugged him back, putting your arms around his neck and letting yourself be cradled by that embrace. You stroked his hair while he hid his face in the hollow of your neck, letting go in a desperate and liberating cry.
“It's okay love, it's okay,” you whispered, as you too were crying, “Let's sit down.”
You sat back on the sofa and you hugged him, letting him rest his head on your chest as he let out all the anger – mostly towards himself – and sadness he felt.
“Cry all you want, I'm here. I don't want to leave, I'll always be here with you Jay,” you mumbled, caressing his hair. He wrapped his arms around your chest tighter, as if he was afraid to let you go.
“I'm so sorry my love. I didn't mean to scare you… When…” he sighed “When I realized what I was doing, the way you were looking at me…” he couldn't finish the sentence, because just remembering the expression you had in that moment pushed him over the edge again “God Y/N I will never forgive myself for what I did...” he got up, sitting on the sofa and running a hand through his hair “When I saw your face… That moment I understood I seriously need some help, I don't… I can't risk hurting you, losing you, I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want to be your safe haven, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second I can intentionally hurt you… I… I don't want you to look me with that terrified and fearful look again... I can't...”
“But I'm not afraid of you Jay, I know you were going through a lot , the case was heavy to deal with…” you tried to comfort him.
“Yes you do,” he smiled at you bitterly, eyes and nose still red from crying “No lies remember? You told me before and even now…” he tried to stop crying but failing “You hugged me and you were tense and the thing is, I can't even blame you… It's only my fault for believing all the shit the war brought me could just go away on its own and I will never be able to forgive myself for how I reacted, in that building, when you were putting my mic...”
“You weren't yourself,” you whispered.
“I know… But I won’t let you to suffer the consequences of what happens to me… But on the other hand I'm too selfish to let you go, I love you too much Y/N and I know if you're not here I… I'll never be able to face this alone.”
“But I don't want you to go through this alone,” you retorted, grabbing his hand with yours and intertwining your fingers as your eyes were on his. “Jay I will never leave you… You’re my whole life and I want to be with you at every step you take, I know it will be hard, I know it isn't easy, I know there is a long way ahead but we’ll do it together. I won't leave you alone… I was just scared in that moment, let's be honest, who wouldn't, but I don't want to abandon you, okay? I just need to know you’ll really, really, try to face these ghosts.”
“Absolutely, I don't want to hurt you anymore…”
“No baby, you don't have to do it for me but for yourself,” you didn't let him finish the sentence “Because you went though what no other human being can go through and you deserve to be happy, to fully live your life, to do your job serenely, you don't deserve to wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares. You are strong, one of the strongest people I know and if there is anyone who can do it, it’s you, love, okay?” you stroked his cheek and he nodded faintly.
“Promise me you'll really try? Not for me though,” you continued as he looked at you with all the love he felt for you. “I can take it, past the fear I know it's not your fault baby, you don't control it. I can't even imagine what you're going through, what you saw over there, anyone who didn’t experience it will never be able to, but I swear Jay I… I would die to give you all the happiness you deserve.”
“You are my happiness,” he retorted and you smiled feebly when you saw him calm down a bit “Tomorrow I’ll look for someone and start doing therapy, I promise I'll do it, for you, for me, for us.”
Your smile grew on your lips. “I know you will. I'm so proud of you.”
“So you won't leave me?” he whispered so softly he almost sounded like a child intimidated by the response he’d receive.
“No baby, never, I swear. I'd take a bullet for you if it means to make you happy.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” he mumbled. He placed his hand on yours which was still on his cheek, then bringing it to his lips and leaving a kiss on the back without his eyes ever leaving yours. “I love you so much Y/N, so fucking much I can't even breathe right now. I don't know what I did to deserve you,” you smiled again “I always want to see you smile like that, God… I can't even explain what you do to me. I… I want to make you happy as much as you make me happy. I'm so sorry baby, I'm sorry for everything...”
“Shh, it's okay, it's not your fault I want you to put it in this cute little head. I love you too Jay so much, more than you can ever imagine.”
You stayed on that sofa embraced for and indefinite amount of time, cradled in each other's arms. After some time you managed to get Jay to eat something before letting him take a shower, needless to say he was going to sleep over at your place.
You both got into bed and, due to the exhaustion, the intense emotions experienced that day, it didn't take long for Jay to fall asleep, his head resting on your chest as you held him and hugged him. But you couldn't sleep a wink, the events of that day still clear in your mind.
When Jay woke up in the middle of the night, it didn't take him long to realize you weren't there anymore. He sat up in bed and looked at the time on his cell phone, which read 1:32 in the morning, before getting up and walking towards the living room.
For a fraction of a second he thought he heard a sob but he thought he just imagined it. But when this sobbing sound was accompanied by a sniffling, he knew he didn’t imagine them at all.
He walked quickly to the living room and his heart skipped a beat when, in the dim light, he saw you sitting on the sofa, your knees drawn up to your chest as you cried. He turned on the lights and didn't miss the way you tried - in vain – to quickly dry your tears.
“Y/N… Baby… God, what happened? Are you hurt?” Jay asked after rushing over to you, kneeling right in front of you.
You mentally let out a curse, aware that you wouldn't be able to escape this. “I'm fine,” you replied though, hoping for a nano second he’d buy it.
“Oh baby don't lie to me, you don't cry if you're fine. Please talk to me, are you okay? What happened?” he continued to ask worried. He grabbed a handkerchief from the top of the coffee table and handed it to you, watching you intently as you blew your nose. He sat down next to you and started stroking your hair in an attempt to comfort you.
“Don't worry babe, it's okay. Nothing happened, go back to sleep you're tired.”
“How can you even think I'll leave you here alone?” he said “Wait, I'll go get you a glass of water.”
Before you could object, he was up and in less than no time he returned with a glass of cold water which you drank with pleasure. “You want another one?” he asked and after you mumbled a ‘no’ he took the empty glass from your hands and placed it on the coffee table. “Are you feeling better?”.
You nodded. “Seriously baby, I'm fine, go back to bed.”
“How about you stop lying to me and start telling me the truth? You're making me worry to death love.”
You sighed deeply, feeling the urge to cry coming back. “It's just… It's been a busy day and I needed to vent.”
Jay was silent for a moment, wiping away a single tear that slid down your cheek. “Talk to me baby, I'm here for you.”
You shook your head and then stood up. “No, there is nothing to say. Let's go to sleep, I'm getting tired too.”
“No, we're not going to sleep until you tell me what's going on,” he stood up too, looking at you with such intensity it almost took your breath away. God why did he insist so much, why didn't he just let you cry and forget everything?
“I told you Jay, I was just venting after today.”
“Yes, but it's not only that, I'm sure,” he retorted, taking a step towards you. “Baby don't you trust me? You know you can talk to me about anything, I just want to help you.”
“I-it's not that, of course I trust you.”
“Then talk to me,” he pressed, now on the verge of losing his mind “What...”.
“I don't want to bother you, you already have so much to think about.”
“Y/N I want you to listen to me very carefully now because I won't say it again,” he spoke, placing his hands on your face to force you to look at him. “There is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you, and nothing, I say nothing, is more important than you. You never bother me and never will. You want me to be honest with you, to ask for help, but you have to do it too, you don't have to be afraid to tell me about something it’s bothering you.”
You started crying again and he hugged you, holding you close as he stroked your hair. “It's alright baby, I'm here. Cry all you want, let it go. I won't leave you.”
“It’s just…” you sobbed at a loss for words, letting go as a wave of guilt washed over you. You placed your hands on his bare chest as he continued to hold you.
“Y/N, please, I hate seeing you like this. What are you afraid of? Why don’t you talk to me?” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Because I feel guilty,” you answered so feebly you feared he didn’t hear you.
Jay placed two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And why’s that?”.
Another sob escaped your lips and at that point you slightly moved away from him, no longer able to hold his gaze, his closeness. You ran your hands over your face and then through your hair, not quite knowing what to say.
“Because I was fucking terrified! And… And I feel guilty because I know what happened wasn't your fault, you weren’t yourself…” you sniffed as the tears continued to flow in rivers, leaving you not even a chance to talk “I know you’d never consciously do anything to hurt me but seeing you point that gun at me… Jay, I…” you sighed “I've faced criminals, murderers, but I've never been so afraid and terrified as today and for a moment I really thought you’d shoot me. The way you looked at me… God I can't get it out of my mind and I'm hating myself because it wasn't your fault…”
Jay stood there attentively listening to every single word you said as every second that passed he felt a part of himself die.
“That's why I didn't want to tell you about this, because I know you’re blaming yourself for everything and you're already going through so much Jay and I don't want to add this other burden on you...” you continued and at that point he approached you again, putting his hands on your cheeks and wiping away the tears with his thumbs as you did with him.
“Y/N…” he said your name as a little prayer “You really think I don’t know that? I know you, I know when something is bugging you, I know when something makes you feel sad. I saw the way you looked at me this whole evening, the way you were tense and I'm so sorry for putting you in this situation my baby. I hate myself so much for this, you didn’t deserve any of that,” he left a soft kiss on your forehead.
“And I love you so fucking much,” he continued “You're willing to suffer alone just to not make me worry but you don't have to. Your feelings are as valid as mine, you have to tell me when you're hurt, when you feel like crying, when you're scared even if I'm the cause. I want to listen to you and do everything in my power to fix what’s hurting you and I promise I will. We have a long way to go, you said it too, but we can't do it unless we're both honest with each other, if we don't express our fears, our apprehensions,” he said wiping away your tears as you did nothing but keep crying “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me Y/N, you saved me from a chasm that I am trying hard to climb over, you are my lifeline and I want to be the same for you. I can never apologize enough for what I did today, but I promise I’ll do everything I can to put all that shit behind me. But you need to talk to me, okay? You are so fucking important to me and I'm okay if you're okay. I can't focus on anything else if I don't know you’re happy and to know that I need you to tell me everything that goes through your mind, and I will do the same… Okay baby?”.
You nodded and in response you pressed your lips onto his in a sweet, long-awaited kiss before hugging and squeezing him as if your life depended on it. He was right, God was he right about everything.
He was your everything.
Your sun, the love of your life, the reason for everything.
You were his salvation.
You were the light at the end of a dark tunnel, the first breath of fresh air after being underwater too long. You both knew that even in the most difficult moments you’ll be able to overcome everything and that you could always count on each other in joy, fear and pain.
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gemini-sensei · 9 months
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Back on my angst bs
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Imagine if Reader was dating Hawk when he was still in Cobra Kai. It was great at first and he always treated her right, but as he became more violent in the dojo, it started to scare her. They argued about it a bit before she finally broke up with him, struggling with his attitude and how it progressed.
She does everything to move on and get over him, but it gets hard after a few weeks when she finds out she's pregnant.
It's hard, but her friends rally around to give her support. They help her through the tough emotions and the early stages of pregnancy. She gets through it.
At school she hides any changes to her body with giant hoodies and sweatshirts. It isn't obvious at first, but as time goes on, her pudgy belly rounds out and she wants to hide it. She doesn't want Hawk or the Cobras to see. She doesn't want anyone but her close friends to know. It's hard enough as is.
But then she's struggling to get something in her locker and everything just falls to the floor. It's frustrating and it upsets her, which quickly turns into her crying over it, thanks to her hormones, as she's trying to pick everything up. She's on her hands and knees just doing her best when Kyler and a few Cobras come around and see her tears.
They start laughing and jeering at her, pointing at her and calling her pathetic. It only makes her cry harder. She's struggling and instead of helping, they're laughing. Not that they or anyone else around knows she's pregnant, as she's done literally everything to hide it.
However, next thing anyone knows, Kyler is getting slammed into a wall of lockers and Hawk is breathing in his face.
"What's so funny, dumbass? Forgot how to spell your own name again?" He throws him down and kicks him in the side, again and again, until he stops trying to get up. "Oh man, look at you on the floor. If only someone would help! You! Up!"
Each word in punctuated by another kick. Then Hawk spits on him and grabs him by the shirt, picking in up off the ground like a piece of trash. He throws him at his friends.
"Get him outta my face!" He grunts. "Fuck off!"
Everyone nearby takes the warning. Everyone but Reader, who is a little stuck.
She's sitting on the floor, unable to lift herself from the floor, never mind everything she dropped. She can only watch, tearstained cheeks hot to the touch.
Hawk turns to her and his whole face softens. "Did they hurt you?"
She shakes her head, a little embarrassed. "I can't get up."
He offers his hand and she puts both of hers out. He grabs them and pulls her up, but she loses her balance and stumbles. He catches her and she falls into him, her belly pressed up against his stomach. She looks away from him as she gets on her feet properly, but all he can do is stare.
"Reader..."
She doesn't say anything as he grabs the bottom of her hoodie. She doesn't try to stop him as he lifts it up and looks at her belly as it sits under a stretched out tee shirt. She closes her eyes as he puts his hands on her round midsection.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers.
She starts crying again. "You beating the snot our of Kyler is a pretty good example as to why, for starters."
"He deserved it for treating you like that," he says defensively. He pulls her close and shushes her tears gently. Her cries echo down the empty hall anyway. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. If I had known-"
"I found out after we broke up," she chokes out. She hides her face in his hoodie, his familiar scent comforting. "I would have told you, but I didn't know how. Not with cobra kai still hanging around."
"I'll leave cobra kai. I swear."
"No, you won't. You love it."
"Not as much as I love you. Not as much as I miss you." He's ready to start crying as he holds her, just hoping she hears the sincerity in his voice. "You and this baby are more important to me than some dojo."
She's quiet for a moment, then looks up at him. "Babies."
"What?" he asks, dumbstruck.
"Babies," she repeats, then smiles through her tears. "It's twins."
He takes her face into his hands and looks her in the eyes. "I'm never going back to cobra kai, okay? Never. My place is right beside you, you and our babies."
She smiles and cries some more, but he wipes her tears away with his thumbs before kissing her. All this time he's wanted her back, wanted her by his side. He's missed her something terrible, but never knew what to do to win her back. But now that he has he back, he's not going to screw it up. He can't afford to.
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arafilez · 1 month
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨
ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤv.ㅤ CRESCENT PT 2. 𒉽 choi san❛ 𓇿
🥂̸̤ㅤㅤfluff s2lㅤ ✸ㅤyou are lost and confused and suddenly a person is offering to help you? why are you even trusting him?ㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: fighting, blood, injuries ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ running home to your sweet nothings ❜
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San sets up his fighting gears quietly in the back room as the chatter in the main room fills his ears. Yeosang has brought a girl or in Wooyoung’s words “finally scored a chick” and she is supposed to join the fighters. San has no issue with that because when Hongjoong has given her the green light then she is absolutely fine.
The only thing San feels is solitude. Maybe he is overthinking but he can’t help but feel it. He feels alone even when he is with his friends who are such a big part of his life. He feels alone when he is in training even though they joke around a lot.
He feels there is a lack of something in his life. Something that will make him feel complete. And he knows he can’t find it his friends who have already provided a lot for him.
”What’s up pouty face?” his thoughts get cut off by the voice of the only other woman in the fighter team as she speaks up behind him. He turns to look at her standing at the door one eyebrow perched up.
“Go to Seonghwa hyung,” he says and her laugh echoes the room and she walks towards him crossing her arms. Sitting beside him she looks at his droopy figure and asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he pouts shaking his leg and fiddling with his hands.
“Come on,” she nags and he looks up at her and says, “You all have someone to kiss and hug, except me.”
The girl looks at him for a while trying to process the words he just said before laughing loudly and saying, “You are salty because you have no one for that, Choi San?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“Sure”
“Shut up.”
“Wooyoung doesn’t have anyone either,” she hums looking at him and he deadpans.
“He had the best until he lost her, so let’s not talk about that brat,” he speaks and she shrugs knowing he is right. Wooyoung messed up big time before.
“Well I am not the person to provide emotional support or anything, but you will find someone, don’t worry,” she says softly at the younger male who just nods. She excuses herself as soon as she hears Seonghwa calling her and San is left alone, again.
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What is this place? You look around finding banners of weird paintings with ‘Z’ written in them. You rub your head slightly, look around and walk slowly. Every footstep makes a crunching noise making you cringe but your feet take you towards a larger road.
“Capture her,” you hear a voice speak and your eyes widen at the voice. Is this ‘her’ you? You quickly back yourself up to the nearest wall heavy breaths leaving your shoulder even though you have not even run. Panic surges through your body as the steps come closer and you close your eyes, clamping your hands over your mouth.
You are scared. Your breaths feel heavy as you pant trying to figure out what was happening. How did you even end up here? Who are these men? When you hear the footsteps moving away you peek from behind the wall and see cloaked men dragging someone as they harshly flail their arms around and you put your head on the wall and shut your eyes again.
You will figure this out, you chant to yourself whispering every word. A blood-curdling scream leaves your mouth as you open your eyes and see one of the cloaked men in front of you and your first instinct is to run.
It is a futile attempt since he grabs your hand, his strong grip accentuating on your veins and you look back at him in horror. You fight back at him by kicking but not even a punch seems to work as his grip just becomes stronger by every hold and you look at the dark structure beneath the cloak.
And then you kick the person in the stomach. His grip loosens for a fraction of a second but that feels enough as you run as fast as you can. You hear intense screams behind you but you don’t dare to look back. The air feels slimy and thick and you feel like you are in some weird dystopia but you don’t let that affect you as you keep running.
This is stupid, your brain registers but you don’t have any time to think before you see a small alley.
Running at the fastest pace you can muster you take a sharp turn and you are instantly met with a dark alleyway. Squinting your eyes you look back debating on which way to go when you get thrown to the ground harshly.
You feel the metallic taste of blood in your mouth as you groan trying to get up and you see a cloaked person again and you kick the person back. It feels useless as the strength is no match for yours and your hands feel tied as he holds you by your neck and you start choking.
You feel light-headed at the pressure against your neck till you are deprived of your senses and realise you are done for good. This is how you will die, with no defence left in your system as your lung loses every bit of air.
Your eyes roll back in pain, having difficulty to breath but the grip loosens suddenly and you fall.
You inhale a chunk of the air that smells like rust and metals and you look up to see what changed your attacker’s mind. Your eyes trail over a stark figure in a black overcoat and short hair as he extends his hands towards you. Beside him, the person lies in what looks like a heap of trash bags.
You don’t betray your senses and your mind clouds with confusion. Who is this man? Is this a trap? Is he just helping to kill you? Maybe he is pretending but he is one of them.
You can’t accept help from a stranger.
You are in a fight, in a world you don’t even know about and you are hurt. You definitely cannot accept help from a stranger. You try to get up by yourself and a sharp stinging pain hits your legs and your face contorts as you fall back down
The man in front of you shakes his head before walking towards you.
“No, don’t come near me,” you whisper at his approaching figure looking at him with scared eyes as he kneels in front of you. He isn’t wearing a cloak you have seen since the beginning of your week. The dim light accentuates his features and you squint lightly as his eyes rest on yours.
You stare back at him taking in his cat-like eyes that held a gentle gaze in them and a hint of trust. In a week of you trying to find your way out of here, you felt relieved. Someone has finally found you. You can go back to your world from whatever this hellhole is.
“Are you from the A-dimension?” his deep voice rings your ears and you nod slowly, still a bit reluctant to his attitude. Something in your mind tells you to trust him and even though you hated your instincts they were usually right.
“Okay, we don’t have much time, so come with me,” he says again and you open your mouth to protest with the little confusion left but a gunshot resonates in your ear and you scramble up in his hold and walk along the path he goes to.
Holding your arm securely against his body he muttered something along the lines of “Hongjoong will kill me” which left you wondering who was this Hongjoong.
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“Are you out of your mind?” Hongjoong screams to San who stands quietly in the elder’s room looking down at his feet. “She can be a spy for all you know,” Hongjoong reasons and San looks up at the frustrated captain and says, “How do you know the one you visit is not?”
“T-the on-one I-“ Hongjoong stutters out and San shrugs and continues, “You have a gut instinct, that’s how. I have intuitions too and I don’t think she is a spy, she is just lost here. Besides, what else did you want me to do? Leave her there? You know she would be killed.”
Hongjoong sighs deeply knowing San is right and sits down on his bed, looking at San and he speaks up, “Fine, but good bad anything, every single thing of her is under your supervision.”
“Yes hyung, don’t worry,” San says, a small smile creeping up his face and Hongjoong nods.
He walks towards the room opposite to his own where he knows you are residing. He knocks lightly on the door and hears your shaky whisper. He enters the room and takes in your quiet eyes trained on the bedsheet, the small pile of clothes the girls of the team had given to her lay in a chair at the corner of the room.
“Well, I guess, thanks for saving me,” you murmur and watch as his eyes turn to splits and he smiles cutely. Rubbing the back of his head he awkwardly nods his head making you shocked at the large man’s shy demeanour.
“Who are you guys?” you ask finally letting off the question bubbling inside you and he looks at you with wide eyes frankly surprised at your straightforwardness and says, “We are a rebel group called Ateez.”
“Ateez? I feel like I have heard it before, something about some pirates,” you scrunch your eyebrows along with your face trying to remember. San feels bad and decides to save you from the complications of their lives and answers in a different manner.
“True, but we are here to save these people,” San says and you nod trying to follow his words. He just grins and you smile back before he leaves the room for the night.
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The new few weeks are the best of your life. You actually made a group of friends, you felt like a family amidst all their bickers, care and attention for each other and always helped each of them out whenever they needed. You had the energy to wake up the next day just from the adrenaline of the day before and it made you happy.
You were finally not alone.
But you would be lying if you did not wait for the end of the day, looking forward to the conversations you and San would have. You would have the weirdest talks while laughing and falling into each other arms while you sat in the grass in the enclosed area.
It was a serenity to both of you and often you would just lay there and trace your eyes along his face. His nose-bridge, his jaw, his eyes and finally his lips. You would let your eyes linger there before snapping yourself to reality and listening to a ridiculous story all over again,
Sometimes you would fall asleep on his shoulders, your cheeks pressed against his pads and a soft smile would make its way up his face as he would carefully brush away the loose strands of your hair. You would shift a little at his touch and then nuzzle your nose on his neck, soft breaths echoing in his ears and San would wrap an arm around you pulling you closer to himself.
Today was just another of those days!
You lie down on the dimly lit porch of your room. For a spy base, you have to admit, Ateez has made it homely, somehow. Which is weird but acceptable. Your eyes trail over the bickering due of Jongho and his partner and you chuckle at them. Light footsteps take your eyes off them as they train on a smiley San with a pack of cigarettes in his hand.
“What are we, rebellious college-goers?” you joke making San grin lying down and you put the stick between your lips. San lights his own before turning lightly and lights up yours. “Considering I never went to college properly, wouldn’t know,” he replies and a puff of smoke leaves your mouth as you stare at the small rings above.
“Good you were saved from countless miseries,” you reply and he lets out an amused laugh at your deadpan face. You two lie there and talk about various stuff, unimportant stuff but you don’t stop him. The more you hear his voice the better. You find yourself in a position to question the weird tug on your heart.
An unsettling feeling that scared the hell out of you. You can’t fall in love that easily, can you? Hell, you can’t even like that person. But San, San is like a warm cloth after a cold aftermath and you have known that since the day he saved you.
Your gaze stays heavily on his soft eyelashes as he tells some story about Hongjoong and his old fling but you can’t pay attention as like every other day your gaze droops down to his lips. Heck, it ashamed you how obvious and desperate you looked. San, however, doesn’t notice and says, “You look sleepy.”
“Yes, I am,” the lie rolls off your tongue lazily and easily as he helps you get to your room and you decide to suppress your feelings for yet another day.
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“So that is the gear, this is the control-“ you list to yourself sitting in the car and try to remember your potential job at the team. You have been under the training of Mingi as the getaway driver for a while and sometimes you just practice by yourself.
“Boo,” San speaks through the car window and you roll your eyes as he giggles and you let him in the passenger seat. He gets inside nodding his head happily as you try to focus on the controls rather than the man beside you.
“Come on, pay attention to me,” he whines and you shush him as you figure out the details of tomorrow’s mission which Hongjoong has handed to you earlier.
San doesn’t deal well with the lack of attention so he snatches away the copy and you stare at your blank hands and gasp. You look at him making a face and he shrugs, hiding the page behind him like a child.
“Choi San, you give me that back right now,” you fake scold him as he sticks his tongue out at you shaking his head to a no. A disgruntling sound leaves your lips as you lean over to him to grab it.
“No, not until you give me attention,” he says trying to get the papers out of your reach in that confined space and you laugh at his futile attempts.
“Come on Sannie, hand it over,” you giggle as he makes a face and he laughs back nodding his head and playing around with it. You slap his thigh and he fakes a hurt expression and you deadpan at him.
“Hongjoong will kill both of us if he finds out we even lost a bit of that information,” you hiss at him but the giant baby doesn’t pay any attention to that and only makes kissy faces at you.
“You little-“, you didn’t complete your sentence and jump from your seat over to his as he yelps out loud. You hold his hand and he struggles to laugh at your angry expression as you press your lips together and you finally grab the paper and huff in victory.
You smirk and look back at him to rub it in his face but it becomes awkward as soon as you realise how close you two were. The position was also questionable since you are now basically straddling his lap and his face is mere inches away from yours.
You look in his deep brown eyes that look back at yours and you can feel the heat rising your cheeks at his gaze. Quickly clearing your throat you get off him and sit back down and he blinks rapidly looking away.
You look away through the window and look at the reflection of you two on the glass.
It is now or never. You have to do this.
You turn at him and ask, “Hey San, does Z-dimension have any kind of café?”
“You are kidding right, of course not,” he looks at you, his voice betraying his joking words and you nod slowly.
“Well then I guess we have to wait till we get back to go on a proper date,” you fake sigh and his eyes widen at your words. Did you just say ‘date’?
As in with him?
A date?
“Stop staring at me like I am some kind of alien,” you scold and watch San hyperventilate before squealing out loud and wrapping his arms around your figure.
You laugh at him as you hug him back and he grabs your face in his hands and looks at you. You gaze back at him with adoration and he breaks into a smile and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“Should you kiss me before a first date? Hmm,” you pretend to think making him groan at your antics and you laugh muttering a soft “yes”.
His lips softly press to yours as you kiss him back. He smiles in the kiss and so do you as your lips mould together in perfect harmony. He trails his left hand on your cheek while the right holds your hand caressing it softly and you fist his shirt with your left hand. Deepening the kiss you love how you had found him, the one to complete you.
San believes the same, the other part of him his friends could never fill was you.
And you love how he reminds you of everything you love. His lips taste like your favourite sweet and his hair like the softest pillow of care you ever had.
His eyes, are like the crescent moon you love.
And he smells like your favourite emotion in the world. He smells like love.
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✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ guys no there isn't a part one it is just the name of the song lol ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔
✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake @weird-bookworm ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ comment here or in series mlist to be added or removedㅤㅤ𠈔
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queenshelby · 6 months
Text
Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)
PART 43: MORE TAPE(S)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut
PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!
Two days had passed and you were back home in Dublin, confronted with a sex-tape between Cillian and his assistant Kit that, by now, had spread like wildfire, making you uncomfortable and emotional every time a notification popped up on your social media accounts, alerting you to the video. All of your friends and acquaintances had, by now, sent this to you and you were sick of it.
Reaching for his phone, Cillian shut off the recording, unable to bear witnessing further humiliation in front of you. The walls of his luxury apartment closed in on him, suffocating in an oppressive shroud of shame.
"My own daughter has seen this and so has my son! Fuck!" Cillian groaned aloud, pacing agitatedly in the room. He turned to you with a look of desperation, his eyes pleading for understanding. Despite your resignation to the fact, your heart went out to him, feeling sympathy and guilt for placing him in this predicament.
"You know you can sue her for this, right?" you suggested hesitantly, clasping his hands softly, trying to offer whatever solace you could provide. Though your intentions were pure, you couldn't help but notice Cillian's reluctance.
"No, this would make things worse, I think," Cillian responded solemnly, running his fingers through his tousled hair in distraction.
A heavy silence settled upon the two of you as reality seeped in – there was no escaping the consequences of this event. No amount of legal action could undo the damage already done.
"Will you at least confront her about it?" you asked, seeing that she had filmed this without his knowledge and then leaked it to the press in spite.
"Yes, I am meeting with her tomorrow. My lawyer has sent her a letter to address the issue privately at first. But legal action? It would just create more publicity which I don't want for Nina's sake," Cillian revealed, looking downward, defeated. 
"I understand, Cills and I think that you should tell her exactly how devastating this is for everyone involved, especially your children. Surely, she can see this. You need to be firm," you advised earnestly, trying to impart strength to his weakening spirit. He nodded gratefully, appreciating your support during this challenging period.
"I will be firm Y/N. I promise," Cillian responded resolutely, pulling away from your touch with newfound determination. He needed to maintain composure now more than ever; letting emotions overwhelm him wouldn't serve anyone's best interest. Instead, it required coolness, levelheadedness, and strategizing. The battle was about to begin, and it wasn't one easily won.
Kit, his once trustworthy employee, had betrayed him in the worst possible way.
The very thought made him nauseous. How could she film them doing something so personal and share it with the entire world? The anger boiling inside of him threatened to consume him entirely.
Walking around aimlessly throughout the day, you noticed his turmoil increasing tenfold. Every step he took echoed with uncertainty and doubt; you could sense that something truly dramatic was about to unfold. After hours of deliberation, Cillian finally decided to take matters into his own hands, requesting a change of scenery.
"We should do something nice after I deal with this tomorrow. Just you and me," he suggested, and you smiled faintly, grateful for any respite from this hellish storm. Glancing at his tired features, a wave of protectiveness swept over you. It was essential to stay strong for him, offering moral support where necessary.
"That sounds perfect. We need a break from all this madness," you agreed, smiling warmly at him. As you looked into his weary eyes, you felt a mix of love, admiration, and concern, knowing just how difficult this whole debacle had become for him.
"How about a trip to somewhere like the Maldives? I have never been there, and Dermont reckons it's quite nice. Just you and me on the beach," Cillian proposed with a sparkle in his eye, as though daring you to imagine the possibility.
Your stomach fluttered, excitement building within you at the prospect of exploring such an idyllic destination while, at the same time, you knew that you could not leave Ireland now without risking being denied re-entry upon your return.
Your visa was about to run out and you needed to address this issue before embarking on a vacation.
"Cillian, I would love to go on a holiday with you, but I can't leave the country right now. My student visa expires soon, and I don't know what to do about it just yet. I am working on it though. But, if I leave Ireland now, I can't return without a new visa in place," you explained sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.
His expression shifted instantly, a mixture of disappointment and frustration flashing across his features.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Cillian murmured softly, his eyes filled with understanding and worry.
Flinching momentarily, you admitted to him the difficulties you faced due to your impending immigration issues.
"Well, you've got your birthday coming up. You also have more important things to worry about at the moment and the premieres next month...I didn't want to burden you with my problems. I was just going to sort it out, but it proved to be much more difficult than I had anticipated, " you said and your words trailed off as your shoulders slumped, indicating your defeat.
Cillian wrapped an arm around your waist tenderly, displaying solidarity amidst adversity.
"Listen Y/N, you are my priority! I will ask my lawyer about this tomorrow after dealing with Kit. There must be an option if you want to stay. You may be able to change your visa to another visa or something," he said, and his tone exhibited care and understanding, allowing you to lean on him for support. "You do want to stay here, don't you?" Cillian questioned, wanting affirmation that his plan for staying together wasn't merely wishful thinking.
"Yes, Cillian. Of course I want to stay here. With you. I love you. Despite, Emma is staying in Ireland too. She is moving to Cork soon, and I want to be close to her as well," you expressed sincerely, locking eyes with him to convey your commitment.
His relief was palpable, and he held you closer still, promising to find a solution.
"Good. I am glad. Because there is no fucking way, I will ever let you go again," Cillian proclaimed confidently, taking charge of both situations which were now overshadowing your happiness.
"Dublin is my home now Cillian, so don't worry!" you replied cheerily but, just as you did, a bound of nausea hit you again, forcing you to make a mad dash to the bathroom.
Cillian, worried, followed behind and gently placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, whispering sweet words of encouragement, easing your anxiety somewhat.
He led you towards the bedroom afterwards, sitting beside you carefully, ensuring you felt comfortable enough to discuss the matter openly, thinking that the nausea was the result of your stress levels lately.
Feeling better physically, Cillian reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers lovingly. His eyes searched yours intently, seeking confirmation of your feelings regarding the situation.
"I hate seeing you like this, because of what Kit has done..." Cillian told you, but you interrupted him.
"No, it's not because of this. I am just hormonal. My cycle is all over the place ever since the surgery and I think that this is why I feel sick sometimes, "you tried to explain your condition, hoping that he understood the physical strain it put on you.
Cillian nodded sympathetically, wrapping you tightly in his arms, providing much-needed comfort.
"You should probably see someone about this again," he offered kindly, genuine concern evident in his voice. Your brow furrowed slightly in response, sensing the underlying undertone of concern rather than dismissal.
"I will, once you have dealt with Kit," you conceded, pondering the idea seriously for the first time. Your health had always taken a backseat, considering the recent surgeries and recoveries, coupled with the chaos surrounding the scandal. And perhaps this constant stress wasn't helping either.
"No, let's make sure we prioritise your health," Cillian remarked solemnly, adding weight to the conversation.
"Okay, I will get an appointment scheduled," you promised reluctantly, aware that the stress might eventually cause serious complications. Nevertheless, you couldn't help feeling irritated that these small concerns seemed to dominate most of your life currently.
With an aching heart, you glanced at your lover, acknowledging the gravity of the situation involving Kit and what you suggested next caught Cillian by suprise.
"You know, maybe, we should do something a little bit adventurous. Maybe this will take our minds off this video your crazy ass assistant shared on the internet," you teased playfully, your lips curling into a wicked smile.
"What do you have in mind?" Cillian asked, intrigued, as his eyebrows raised salaciously, a gleam of mischief lighting up his eyes.
"Something kinkier than anything we've done before," you told him before sliding down onto his lap.
"Okay. You have my attention. Tell me what you want to do," Cillian asked eagerly, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
A delicious thrill coursed through your veins as you contemplated the possibilities. The seductive power dynamics between you two made the air thick with sexual energy.
"I want us to explore some boundaries," you began slowly, savoring the taste of the forbidden fruit.
As you breathed heavily, trying to steady yourself against his chest, you continued, "And do things that we haven't even talked about."
Cillian swallowed hard, his breath catching. "Like what?" he ventured hesitantly, a hint of trepidation crossing his face.
You grinned wickedly, running your tongue along your bottom lip.
"Well, you are an actor, aren't you? So, how about some role play?"  You suggested coquettishly, letting your imagination run wild with various ideas dancing inside your head.
"I am all ears," Cillian said, his curiosity piqued.
"Well, we could pretend to be strangers meeting for the first time at a hotel. Then we could indulge in our fantasies, testing boundaries in our roles – teacher and student, doctor and patient, maybe even a dominant and submissive scenario," you mentioned, excited by the thought of turning the tables and experiencing each other differently.
"And we will film it, but just for us," you added, causing a wave of nervousness to ripple through him. Cillian hesitated briefly, his mind processing everything rapidly. Finally, he took a deep breath and accepted the challenge.
"I need to buy a camera first," he started, finally breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. 
"Of course," you agreed, smiling warmly. The intensity of the discussion had increased exponentially, and your body burned with desire. It was almost painful to contain yourself, longing to experience the scenarios you discussed. As you kissed passionately, tangled limbs entwined in an erotic dance of pleasure, but your excitement was short lived as, suddenly, the doorbell rang startling you both.
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doormatty3 · 2 months
Text
Echoes Of Madness (Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Summary:
[Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader] [Possessed!Josh Lambert x Female Reader]  You’ve been the Lambert family’s maid since Renai hired you when Dalton was in a coma, desperate for help with the household and when he recovered, you became an integral part of them.  Despite your close proximity to the family, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy towards the bond shared between Renai and Josh. However, Josh’s demeanour shifted after Dalton awoke from his coma, becoming moody and occasionally downright rude towards his wife. Yet, despite these shortcomings, you can’t deny your attraction towards him. Amidst the growing tension within the household, you can’t ignore the strange occurrences surrounding Josh.  The more you witness, the warier you grow of him, grappling with confusion over his erratic behaviour - you can’t help but feel like someone else pulls the strings.  And when you find him screaming at his reflection in the mirror, you realise he shares that magnetic attraction towards you - and you can be sure of one thing: You’re in for one hell of a ride. OR: Josh is possessed and possesses you with his cock.
Wordcount: 16851
Warnings: 18+, extremely dubious consent, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues, face fucking, blowjob, fingering, spanking, bondage, rough oral sex, biting, choking, forced orgasm
A/N: You ask - I deliver 
Content Warning: There's some extremely dubious consent - To be honest, the whole smut is kind of dubious. The protagonist is into it but it's still insanely problematic... So proceed with care and remember that Josh is after all possessed (and really hot).
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If someone had asked you in your childhood what you’d end up doing for a living, being a maid wouldn’t have crossed your mind. But life has a way of surprising one, and yours took some turns and twists.
So one day, you stumbled upon a newspaper ad while out of work: a family was seeking a housekeeper because their son was in a coma. And that’s how you became the housekeeper for the Lambert family - a role you’ve held for quite some time now.
It had been Renai Lambert who sought assistance when both she and her husband Josh were overwhelmed by the emotional and logistical challenges, and maintaining the household became an insurmountable task.
In those trying times, you provided more than just cleaning and tidying services; you offered a sense of stability and support amidst the chaos and befriended the whole family.
Sure, there were a few times when they couldn’t pay you on time, but you never let it bother you. You understood the financial strain they were under, especially with Dalton’s medical bills looming over them. You knew they would compensate you as soon as they could, and that was enough for you to carry on with your duties.
Then, as if by magic, Dalton woke from his coma, and suddenly, everything seemed right again. 
Initially, you harboured concerns about the future of your employment, fearing that your services might no longer be needed in light of Dalton’s recovery. However, to your relief, the Lamberts made it clear that they valued your presence and contributions beyond the context of Dalton’s illness.
_____
As you go about your duties within the Lambert household, a pang of envy occasionally creeps into your thoughts when you observe the seemingly perfect relationship between Renai and Josh. Their bond radiates with an undeniable warmth and understanding, a stark contrast to the complexities of your own personal life. Despite the challenges they’ve faced, their connection remains unwavering, leaving you to yearn for a love as deep and steadfast as theirs.
Josh, in particular, captures your attention with his striking features and undeniable charisma. His clear blue eyes sparkle with kindness and determination, drawing you in with their magnetic allure. His brown, short hair frames his face in a way that accentuates his rugged charm, while his strong yet gentle hands speak volumes of his dedication to his family. His slim and toned physique exudes confidence and strength, a testament to his unwavering commitment to both his loved ones and himself.
But it’s not just his physical attributes that captivate you; it’s his unwavering devotion to Renai and Dalton that truly sets him apart. His willingness to sacrifice and his boundless love for his family is evident in every action and gesture, leaving you with a sense of admiration tinged with a hint of longing.
And then there’s his laughter - a melodic symphony that fills the room with joy and warmth whenever he’s near. It’s infectious, drawing you into its embrace and momentarily easing the burdens weighing on your heart. 
Though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for harbouring such thoughts, you can’t deny the undeniable pull that Josh exerts over you. 
But you noticed that the aftermath of Dalton’s coma took a toll on Josh and Renai’s relationship.
The once-unbreakable bond between them seemed to fray at the edges, leaving behind jagged wounds that festered beneath the surface.
Josh’s demeanour, in particular, underwent a noticeable shift, oscillating between moments of distant detachment and flashes of his former warmth and affection. There are times when his behaviour bordered on outright rudeness, his words sharp, and his actions cold, leaving Renai to navigate the turbulent waters of their relationship alone. 
Yet, amidst the chaos, there were fleeting glimpses of the man you once knew - the devoted husband who doted on his wife and cherished his family with unwavering devotion.
But you knew better than to dwell on such observations, pushing aside any thoughts that strayed into forbidden territory. Josh was your employer, and his marriage to Renai was sacrosanct - a bond you had no right to intrude upon. 
Despite his friendly demeanour towards you, you remained acutely aware of the professional boundaries that governed your relationship, steadfast in your resolve to maintain a respectful distance. It was a reality you begrudgingly accepted, even as the lines between employer and employee blurred with each passing day. And so, you buried any inklings of desire or longing beneath a facade of professional decorum, resigned to the silent ache that gnawed at your heart in the quiet moments of solitude.
_____
Lost in the rhythmic drone of the vacuum cleaner, you move through the Lamberts’ living room with a sense of detachment, as if operating on autopilot. The monotonous hum of the machine serves as a backdrop to the tumult of thoughts swirling within your mind, drowning out the outside world as you retreat into the sanctuary of your own thoughts.
With each pass of the vacuum cleaner, your mind drifts further into the depths of contemplation, grappling with the complexities of the situation unfolding before you. The tension between Josh and Renai, the fragile facade of normalcy that masks the underlying turmoil - it all weighs heavily on your shoulders, threatening to engulf you in its wake.
Despite your best efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, your thoughts wander down winding pathways, exploring the myriad possibilities and uncertainties that lie ahead. What will become of the Lambert family in the wake of Dalton’s recovery? Will Josh and Renai find their way back to each other, or will the cracks in their relationship widen into irreparable chasms?
The tension between Josh and Renai, the forbidden desires that simmer beneath the surface - they linger like shadows in the recesses of your mind, haunting you with their persistent presence.
As the vacuum cleaner glides effortlessly across the carpet, you find yourself yearning for the respite of silence, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. But the relentless hum of the machine serves as a constant reminder of the reality that surrounds you, anchoring you to the present moment even as your mind drifts into the unknown.
For a fleeting moment, you consider switching off the vacuum, allowing the silence to envelop you like a comforting embrace. But the clamour of your inner turmoil proves too overwhelming, driving you to continue your relentless pursuit of cleanliness and order within the Lambert household.
And so, you continue to vacuum the Lamberts’ living room, lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, navigating the twists and turns of emotion with each step. 
Over the deafening roar of the vacuum cleaner, you hear a noise - a faint rustling, like the flutter of wings against a silent sky.
The abrupt disruption jolts you from your reverie, scattering the fragments of your thoughts like leaves in the wind. Startled, you glance around the living room, determined to find the source of the disruption before you halt the incessant drone with a swift motion.
Its sudden silence leaves a void that echoes with anticipation.
Your senses, now heightened, scan the surroundings for any sign of disturbance. The air crackles with tension as you strain to discern the source of the commotion, but all you hear is the hushed murmur of the house settling into its familiar rhythm and the muted thrum of your heartbeat echoing in the cavernous expanse of the room.
Just as you begin to second-guess the validity of the noise, it comes again - a sharp thud reverberating from somewhere above, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. Your heart quickens its pace as you realise that the sound is authentic and not a product of your imagination. 
Curiosity stirs within you, a dormant ember reignited by the tantalising promise of the unknown.  With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each creak of the floorboards adding to the eerie atmosphere that permeates the hallway.
The dim light casts elongated shadows that dance along the walls, heightening the sense of unease that settles over you like a heavy cloak. They cling to the walls like spectres, their formless tendrils reaching out to ensnare unwary travellers in their embrace. The faint scent of lavender lingers in the air, mingling with the musty aroma of age-old secrets veiled in dust and decay.
Reaching the top of the stairs, you hesitate. Your pulse is loud in your ears, drowning out the sound of your own footsteps. 
The hallway stretches out before you, a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and closed doors shrouded in mystery. 
Your eyes scan the surroundings, searching for any sign of disruption, any clue as to what could have caused the disturbance. But aside from the faint glow of lamplight and the soft rustle of curtains in the breeze, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Summoning your courage, you press forward, guided by the siren song of the unknown. The floorboards creak beneath your weight, their protest a haunting refrain that echoes through the empty halls. 
The unsettling quiet that follows the disturbance sets your nerves on edge, a sense of unease settling over you like a heavy fog. You hesitate for a moment before mustering the courage to call out for Josh Lambert, the only other person in the household at the time.
“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively, the sound of your voice seeming to dissipate into the silence around you. “Are you there? Is everything alright?”
But the only response is the hollow echo of your own voice bouncing off the walls, amplifying the eerie stillness that surrounds you. A chill runs down your spine as you wait, straining your ears for any sign of life within the house. As the seconds tick by, a creeping sense of dread begins to gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. What if something has happened to Josh? What if you’re alone in this house with whatever caused the disturbance?
With a shaky breath, you take a hesitant step forward, heart pounding in your chest.
“Mr. Lambert, please,” you call out again, your voice tinged with desperation. “Are you there?”
But still, there’s no response, no indication that your words have reached their intended recipient. Fear tightens its grip on your chest, threatening to suffocate you with its weight.
Just as despair threatens to overwhelm you, a faint noise breaks through the oppressive silence - a soft click followed by the creak of a door being opened. Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn towards the sound, your breath catching in your chest.
Finally, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Josh’s familiar form bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. His tousled hair catches the glimmer of light filtering through the window, casting a halo of silver around his face. In the muted shadows of the hallway, his features are softened, his eyes alight with a quiet intensity. The lines of worry that once etched his brow have been smoothed away, replaced by a sense of quiet resolve that lends him an air of quiet confidence.
Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before addressing Josh, whose presence, though comforting, seems to carry an air of unease, a faint tension that sends shivers down your spine - a shift, a shadow that lingers at the edge of perception, eluding your grasp like smoke slipping through your fingers.
You study him intently, searching for any telltale sign of discord, but his demeanour remains serene, his gaze steady and unwavering. 
“Mr. Lambert,” you begin tentatively, your voice wavering slightly, “is everything okay? I could have sworn I heard something falling over multiple times.”
Josh’s expression shifts, his features momentarily clouded with a hint of uncertainty, his gaze darting around the hallway as if searching for answers in the shadows.
“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his voice low and tinged with a subtle edge that sends a chill down your spine, “But let’s check it out together. Just to be sure.”
You follow Josh hesitantly, a creeping sense of dread gnawing at your insides as you traverse the dimly lit corridors of the house. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if the very air around you is thick with foreboding.
As you search each room, the feeling of unease only intensifies, amplified by Josh’s own palpable sense of tension. His movements are jerky, his eyes darting about as if expecting something - or someone - to leap out at any moment.
Returning to the living room, you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. The memory of the strange disturbance lingers like a lingering fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise ordinary surroundings.
“Thank you, Mr. Lambert,” you manage to say, though your voice trembles slightly. “I guess I was just a little jumpy.”
Josh offers you a tight-lipped smile, though it does little to dispel the sense of disquiet that hangs in the air between you.
“No problem,” he replies, his voice strained. “I’m just glad everything seems to be okay.”
Your lips curl into a smile at his words, and as his eyes meet yours, he adds, “And call me Josh, please.”
His request for familiarity sends a sudden rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You blush furiously, feeling the heat radiating from your face as if it were lit by an internal flame. His gentle smile in response only intensifies the fluttering sensation in your chest, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
“O-Okay, Josh,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. His smile widens at your reaction, a glimmer of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, a fluttering sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach as you struggle to compose yourself.
“Thank you,” you manage to choke out, your words laced with a hint of embarrassment. His laughter fills the air, a melodic sound that washes over you like a gentle breeze, soothing the tumultuous currents that churn within.
His easygoing demeanour puts you at ease, and you find yourself exhaling a sigh of relief as the tension slowly melts away.
With a playful twinkle in his eye, Josh offers you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the shadows of the hallway. And as you watch him go, a sense of warmth washes over you, the memory of his smile lingering like a beacon of light in the darkness.
With a newfound sense of confidence, you return to your tasks, the memory of Josh’s smile lighting the way forward, but the feeling of being watched lingering at the edges of your consciousness. And though you try to shake off the unease, you can’t help but feel that something lurks in the shadows.
_____
A few weeks pass, and the memory of the strange encounter with Josh begins to fade into the recesses of your mind. Life in the Lambert household settles into a familiar rhythm, the routine of your duties serving as a comforting anchor amidst the ebb and flow of daily life.
Yet, despite your best efforts to push the memory aside, a nagging sense of unease lingers in the back of your mind - a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced.
Today, however, you find yourself in a rush, with an appointment looming on the horizon. The urgency of your departure weighs heavily on your mind as you hurry through your morning routine. With frenzied steps, you navigate through the Lambert household, mentally ticking off tasks from your to-do list.
With a quick glance at the clock, you realise there’s still time to squeeze in one last task before you have to leave - the bathroom could use a quick clean. As you approach the door, intending to get it done swiftly,  the faint murmur of voices catches your attention, causing you to pause in your tracks. Your curiosity is piqued, but you resist the urge to eavesdrop, not wanting to invade anyone’s privacy.
Though you strain to decipher the words since they remain indistinct, muffled by the barrier of the closed door, you recognise Josh’s voice amidst the faint murmurs.
You hesitate, unsure of whether you should proceed with cleaning or come back later. Gathering your courage, you knock lightly on the door, calling out, “Mr. Lambert, it’s me. Can I clean the bathroom now, or should I come back later?”
The voices abruptly fall silent, replaced by a heavy stillness that sends a shiver down your spine. With a furrowed brow, you knock on the door again, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for a response.
After a moment, the door swings open to reveal Josh standing there, a charming smile gracing his features. For a moment, you find yourself breathless, struck by the sight of his handsome features illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom light.
“Oh, hey there! You can go ahead and clean. Thanks for checking in,” he responds, his tone warm and inviting as he steps aside to allow you entry.
Despite the urgency of your task, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for interrupting whatever conversation Josh was engaged in. But as you glance back at Josh, his smile unwavering, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach.
“Thanks, Mr. Lambert,” you offer apologetically, your manners kicking in automatically. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call.”
Josh’s smile falters for a moment before he shakes his head, his expression puzzled. “Call? Oh, I wasn’t talking to anyone. Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, his tone genuine.
You pause, taken aback by his response. “I thought I heard you talking in here,” you explain, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.
But Josh shakes his head, his expression unwavering. “I wasn’t talking to anyone,” he insists, “Maybe you heard something else.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of unease at the certainty in his voice. Could you have been mistaken? The possibility gnaws at you, but deep down, a lingering sense of doubt remains.
As you stand there, grappling with the uncertainty, Josh’s gentle reminder breaks through your thoughts. “And remember,” he adds with a playful glint in his eye, “it’s Josh.”
Your cheeks flush crimson at the reminder, the warmth spreading across your face as you meet his gaze. “Of course, Josh,” your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.
Josh’s smile widens at your reaction, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. With a casual wave of his hand, he dismisses the awkward moment, leaving you to ponder the encounter as he exits the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway beyond. 
Alone once again, you can’t shake the nagging sense of doubt that lingers in your mind.
Why would Josh deny such a mundane thing? And what were those voices you heard? With a heavy sigh, you push aside your concerns and focus on the task at hand, but the mystery of the whispered conversation continues to haunt you as you clean the bathroom.
As you meticulously scrub and polish, your mind races with questions, each unanswered query only deepening the sense of unease that gnaws at your conscience.
_____
The day begins like any other as you unlock the door to the Lambert household, the familiar routine of cleaning the house already settling in.
Yet, the usual calmness is abruptly shattered by a sudden sound that pierces the air - a voice raised in what sounds like frantic conversation. It’s Josh, his tone pressing and animated, echoing through the quiet rooms.
A chill runs down your spine as you freeze in place, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Josh engaged in what seems like an intense discussion, but there’s something different this time - a sense of urgency that renders you momentarily breathless.
Unable to ignore the unease gnawing at you, you abandon your cleaning supplies and make your way upstairs, each step heavy with apprehension. The sound of Josh’s voice grows louder with each passing moment, his words becoming more distinct as you approach.
“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively as you climb, your voice seemingly swallowed by the eerie silence that permeates the house. Anxiety gnaws at your insides as you press forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.
After what seems like an eternity, the murmurs of Josh’s voice reach your ears once more. “You have to leave. Leave me alone,” he pleads, the desperation in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.
Approaching the bathroom, your heart pounds in your chest as you push open the door, revealing a sight that leaves you speechless and freezes you in your tracks. 
There stands Josh in front of the mirror, seemingly engaged in a heated argument with his own reflection.
His appearance is startling - a far cry from the composed and collected man you’re accustomed to seeing. Dark circles rim his blue eyes, their usual sparkle replaced by a dull, haunted gaze. His complexion is ashen and sickly, a stark contrast to his usual vitality. And to add to the peculiarity, you notice that his shirt is buttoned wrongly, a small detail that only adds to the unsettling atmosphere.
Caught off guard by the disturbing scene before you, fear grips your entire being as Josh’s gaze meets yours in the mirror. In a split second, instinct takes over, and without a second thought, your fight-or-flight response kicks in. You step back slowly, a wave of terror washing over you as you turn and bolt from the room, desperate to escape the unsettling aura that surrounds Josh.
The urgency of the moment propels you forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you flee from the unsettling encounter in the bathroom. Each step echoes loudly in the empty hallway, reverberating with the weight of fear and uncertainty that grips you.
As you race down the corridor, the sound of Josh’s heavy footsteps reverberates behind you, each thud echoing with a sense of urgency that drives you onward. “Stop!” he commands, his voice filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Despite the pounding of your heart and the adrenaline coursing through your veins, something deep within you refuses to obey. With determination propelling your every move, you push forward, your feet carrying you faster and faster towards the sanctuary of the exit.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself to go faster, the adrenaline fueling your every movement. The hallway stretches endlessly before you, each turn offering a fleeting glimpse of escape that seems just out of reach.
But just as you reach the end of the hallway, a powerful force crashes into you from behind, knocking you off balance and sending you sprawling against the wall with a resounding thud. Before you can react, Josh is upon you, his entire body pressing you against the surface, trapping you in a suffocating embrace. The look on his face is nothing short of predatory, his eyes ablaze with a frenzied intensity that sends chills down your spine. 
Trapped in his grasp, you are powerless to resist as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. The air crackles with tension as he gazes down at you, his features contorted in a mix of desperation and something darker, something primal and instinctual.
Despite the looming threat and the palpable fear that courses through your veins, you can’t help but notice the undeniable sensations that accompany Josh’s closeness. His body pressed against yours exudes warmth, a stark contrast to the coldness of the wall against your back.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, Josh simply holds you in his grasp, his gaze locking onto yours with an otherwordly intensity. In that brief, suspended moment, time seems to stand still. The only sound is the frantic pounding of your own heart.
Then, finally, he breaks the silence, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the tension like a knife. “Why did you run from me?” he asks, his words laden with confusion and a hint of hurt.
Caught off guard by the question, you struggle to find the right words, your mind racing as you search for an explanation. The truth is, you’re not entirely sure why you fled from him in the first place - only that the overwhelming sense of fear and unease drove you to act on instinct without pausing to consider the consequences.
“I...I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared…you scared me.”
As the words tumble from your lips, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the look of hurt that flickers across Josh’s face. Despite the danger of the situation, there’s a vulnerability in his expression that speaks to a deeper, more human side of him - one that you hadn’t anticipated.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
As Josh’s gaze holds yours, a myriad of emotions swirl within you, tangled and tumultuous. Despite the fear that still grips you, you can’t deny the undeniable pull of attraction coursing through your veins, drawing you inexplicably closer to him. 
Your breath grows shallow, your heart hammering in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the conflicting desires that war within you. On one hand, there’s the undeniable danger of the situation - the fear that still lingers in the air, casting a shadow over everything. And yet, beneath it all, there’s a primal, instinctual longing that you can’t ignore - a desire that burns hot and bright, threatening to consume you from within.
You watch Josh with a mix of fascination and trepidation, taking in his otherworldly appearance and the weariness etched into every line of his face. His eyes, blown wide with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, hold a depth of emotion that you can’t quite decipher.
Abruptly, he leans in, running his nose along your neck. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending goosebumps erupting in its wake. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire deep within you, stirring something that demands to be sated.
Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the sensation, losing yourself in the heady rush of desire that courses through your veins. It’s as if every nerve in your body is alight with anticipation, craving the touch of him. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his warm breath brushes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His movements are deliberate and purposeful, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.
And then, as his nose traces along your skin, you feel a low, guttural sound rumble from deep within his chest - a primal groan of pleasure and desire that sends a thrill coursing through your veins.
Your eyes are drawn to his lips as he licks them when he pulls back, a gesture that sends a jolt of heat coursing through you. Without hesitation and much thought, you lean in, capturing his lips with your own in a kiss that’s both desperate and hungry.
As Josh’s hands bury themselves in your hair when he kisses you back, a surge of anticipation courses through you. Before you can react, he pulls your head back roughly, forcing your back to collide with the unyielding surface of the wall. A sharp pang of pain shoots through your skull as the impact reverberates through your body, leaving you momentarily stunned.
The pain radiates outwards, mingling with the heady rush of desire that still pulses within you. Despite the discomfort, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a primal excitement that courses through your veins.
The kiss is bruising, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind. His touch is rough and demanding, as if he’s determined to claim you as his own.
But even as your head spins with the force of his kiss, a part of you can’t help but revel in the intensity of the moment. There’s something exhilarating about the raw passion that burns between you, a fire that refuses to be extinguished.
Caught in the storm of desire that rages within you, there’s nothing you can do but surrender to the irresistible pull of the moment. His touch ignites a fire within you, burning hot and fierce as it consumes you from the inside out.
With each passing second, you find yourself losing all sense of control, swept away by the sheer intensity of the connection between you. His hands, rough and insistent, leave trails of heat in their wake as they roam hungrily over your body.
With Josh still pressed against you, the sensation of his body against yours sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. 
As his arms envelop you, pulling you closer, you find yourself melting into his touch, the lines between fear and desire blurring in the heat of the moment. His closeness is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.
As Josh’s overpowering presence engulfs you, every fibre of your being is consumed by a whirlwind of sensations. His demanding behaviour, his intoxicating scent, the taste of him lingering on your lips - it all swirls together in a dizzying torrent that leaves you utterly overwhelmed. 
You feel how intensely and instinctively you react to him, from the fire in your veins to the way your nipples start to grow hard and how your cunt starts to get wet.
When he breaks the kiss, you feel his hot breath against your lips, and a wave of realisation washes over you, pulling you back to reality.
“Please, Mr. Lambert, this isn’t right,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. It is not like you don’t want him, but he is still married to Renai and your employer, and more importantly, he doesn’t seem to be in the right headspace.
But instead of heeding your plea, Josh only laughs - a deep, dark sound that reverberates through the room, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes gleam with an intensity that both thrills and terrifies you, their dark depths holding you captive in their gaze.
“Not you calling me Mr. Lambert like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he retorts, his voice low and husky, laced with a hint of amusement. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a sly grin, and for a moment, you’re struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence.
As Josh’s lips meet yours once more, the kiss is deep and consuming. But this time, there’s an urgency to his touch, a hunger that ignites a fire within you both.
Your lips collide with a fervent intensity, teeth clicking against each other in a desperate embrace. The sensation is electric, each movement sending sparks flying as desire consumes you both.
Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender to the kiss, your inhibitions melting away as passion takes hold. Some part of you is sure that this is wrong - but the way he feels against you, how he consumes you - frenzied and almost as if possessed by something - you can’t help but surrender to him. 
As Josh’s tongue invades your mouth, you taste the heady mixture of desire and desperation that lingers on his lips. His hold on you tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you, his arms wrapped around you with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace, you surrender to the moment, letting yourself be consumed by the heat of passion that courses through your veins. His touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce as you melt into his embrace.
As Josh’s lips part from yours, a low, almost primal sound rumbles deep in his throat - a feral growl that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes, dark with desire, bore into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.
“I can smell you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I know you want me.”
His words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and intent. There’s a possessiveness in his tone, a certainty that sends a rush of heat flooding through your veins as you involuntarily clench your thighs - your pussy already slick with arousal. 
Caught off guard by the raw intensity of his confession, you find yourself at a loss for words. The truth in his words is undeniable, a silent acknowledgement of the desires that simmer beneath the surface.
Without waiting for a response, Josh’s lips crash against yours once more, a hungry fervour consuming every inch of your being. The kiss is fervent, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to claim you as his own one more.
A sharp pang of pain shoots through you as his teeth sink into your lip, drawing blood and pulling you back to reality. The metallic tang of iron fills your mouth, mingling with the heady taste of desire that lingers between you. Despite the pain, there’s a primal thrill in the sensation, a rawness that ignites a fire deep within your core.
His hands roam hungrily over your body, tracing every curve and contour with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. The touch of his fingertips against your skin sends electric sparks dancing along your nerves, each caress leaving you achingly aware of the mounting tension between you.
At that moment, there’s no room for thought or hesitation - only the overwhelming rush of sensation that consumes you both. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the primal instinct that drives you together, body and soul.
With a suddenness that leaves you reeling, Josh abruptly pulls away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and longing for more. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you with hunger-filled eyes.
You’re acutely aware of the heady scent of arousal that surrounds you, mingling with the sweet tang of blood on your lips. It’s a combination that leaves you dizzy with longing, your senses heightened to a fever pitch.
He comes closer again and trails wet kisses over your jaw and neck, and when he lingers over your pulse point, his touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce. 
With a suddenness that catches you off guard, his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck, right where he just traced with his tongue, while his grip on you tightens, holding you in place as if afraid you might pull away. The pressure of his teeth against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.
The sharp pain shoots through you like a bolt of lightning, causing you to let out an involuntary whimper and buck your hips against his. You feel the hardness of his cock against you, a testament to his own arousal.
Your breath catches in your throat as the pain radiates outwards, mixing with the heady rush of desire that still courses through your veins. Despite the sting, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a rawness that heightens the intensity of the moment.
But even as desire courses through you, a part of you can’t help but feel a twinge of fear at the suddenness of his actions. The line between pleasure and pain blurs in the heat of the moment, leaving you breathless and wanting more even as you whimper in discomfort.
As Josh pulls away, a mixture of relief and longing wash over you. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.
In the aftermath of his bite, you feel a dull throb where his teeth had sunk into your skin, the sensation a potent reminder of the raw intensity of the moment. But as he leans in closer, his tongue tracing over the mark he left behind, a rush of heat floods your senses, sending a shiver down your spine as you let out a breathy moan.
His touch is gentle, almost reverent as if he’s trying to soothe the pain he caused with his earlier actions. The feel of his tongue against your skin sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, erasing the discomfort and replacing it with a heady rush of desire.
With each lick, each caress, the tension between you grows thicker, electrified by the lingering heat of your shared passion. And as he pulls away, his breath heavy against your skin, you’re left reeling, your senses ablaze with longing.
“I knew you were a slut,” he murmurs, his words dripping with disdain and desire. 
And then, before you can react, he crushes his lips against yours once more, a bruising kiss that borders on violence. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as he claims you with a possessiveness that borders on obsession.
The sheer force of his embrace leaves you gasping for air as if you’ve been winded. Each press of his lips against yours feels like a demand, a possessive claim that leaves no room for resistance.
In that moment, you’re acutely aware of the raw power of his desire, the intensity of his need for you. It’s as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind, leaving only the primal urge to surrender to him completely.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you,” he murmurs, his words laced with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine as he sinks his teeth into your neck one more. “With your tight shirts and pants. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”
His admission hangs heavy in the air, a confession of desire that leaves you breathless and wanting more. It’s as if he’s stripped away all pretence, laying bare the raw, unbridled passion that simmers beneath the surface.
“And there’s nothing more I’d like to do than bend you over,” he continues, his voice low and husky with desire. The words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingling with a sense of apprehension at the sheer intensity of his longing.
With a sudden surge of primal instinct, Josh’s hands tear open your shirt, the fabric yielding to his strength with a resounding rip. The sound echoes in the room, a stark reminder of the raw intensity of the moment.
As the fabric falls away, exposing your chest to the cool air, a rush of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the heady mix of desire that hangs heavy in the air. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him.
You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the erratic rhythm matching the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. Part of you is happy - almost giddy - you decided to forgo the bra today since it gives him better access. 
Before you can even register what’s happening, Josh’s mouth crashes against your bare chest, igniting a firestorm of sensation that consumes you whole. 
At first, he places light, wet kisses on your naked collarbones before starting to suck purple marks into your skin that cause you to whimper and moan with each new one. 
The combination of the cold air hitting the wet spots and the slight pain he causes drives you wild. You feel your pussy growing wetter and wetter, desperate for him to give you more.
As if he knows what you need, he bares his teeth and bites down into the soft skin of your bare tits. Each nip of his teeth is like a branding, leaving a searing imprint of his desire in its wake, marking you as his own.
Every nerve ending is electrified with a jolt of pleasure as he continues to explore and mark you. You whither and moan, pressed against him as he kisses and tastes your skin, careful not to touch your hard nipples.
After what almost feels like torture, he lifts his head to meet your eyes, and it’s as if a current of electricity is coursing through your veins, sparking with the sheer intensity of his passion evident in his eyes.
You watch as he runs his tongue over his lips before he lowers his head to finally capture your hard nipple with his mouth. 
A loud moan escapes you when he flicks it with his tongue and bites down softly before pulling it upwards with his teeth. The minimal stimulation feels like it has a direct connection to your neglected cunt, arousal crashing low in your belly as you buck your hips against his again.
You feel Josh’s hard cock straining in his jeans, and you press against him once more, desperate for some stimulation.
Josh’s low growl reverberates through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as he releases his grip on your skin. The sudden absence of his touch leaves you feeling strangely empty, aching for more even as you struggle to catch your breath. 
The cold air on your wet skin only adds to the frenzy you are experiencing as you feel it throb. 
Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm erratic and wild, matching the frantic pace of your thoughts. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation, throbbing with an intensity that threatens to overwhelm you.
With a sudden, commanding force, Josh’s hand closes around your throat, his grip strong and unyielding. The pressure tightens around your neck, a firm reminder of his dominance as you feel the weight of his touch pressing into your skin.
You gasp. The sensation is both exhilarating and terrifying as if you’re teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to fall or pull back. His touch sends a shockwave coursing through your body, leaving you trembling in its wake.
And then there are his eyes - blue orbs that seem almost swallowed by the darkness, pools of intense desire that draw you in with an irresistible pull. They hold you captive, trapping you in their gaze as if daring you to look away.
With a guttural growl, Josh’s voice rumbles through the air, dripping with both desire and disdain. “Can’t get enough, whore?” His words cut through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting, as he asserts his dominance over you.
You flinch at the harshness of his tone, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. There’s a mixture of arousal and shame swirling within you, a heady concoction that leaves you dizzy and disoriented.
And then, without warning, he leans in close, his tongue tracing a path along the side of your face. The sensation is both electrifying and repulsive, sending a shiver down your spine as you struggle to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within you.
His touch is possessive, almost violent in its intensity as if he’s staking his claim on you once more. 
With a ferocious intensity, Josh’s grip around your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost bruising force. The pressure sends a jolt of both pain and pleasure coursing through you, heightening your senses to a fever pitch.
As his other hand roams down your body, you feel a surge of anticipation ripple through you, your skin prickling with goosebumps at his touch. His fingers trace a tantalising path along your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Every touch is electric, sending shockwaves of sensation radiating through your body. It’s as if he’s igniting a fire within you, stoking the flames of desire until they threaten to consume you whole.
With a sudden, forceful movement, Josh uses his legs to kick open yours, spreading them wide as you’re pressed against the wall. The action is swift and commanding, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body trembling with anticipation.
As your legs are forced apart, you feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening at the raw display of dominance.
Pressed against the wall, you’re acutely aware of every sensation - the coolness of the surface against your skin, the heat of Josh’s body pressed against yours, the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that washes over you.
Josh presses his knee into your clothed pussy, the pressure sending a shockwave of sensation coursing through your body. It’s a jolt of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling.
The pressure of his knee against your skin is firm and unyielding, pressing into you with a force that borders on agonizing. Every movement sends a ripple of pleasure radiating through you.
Once he’s satisfied with the position, Josh pulls his knee away, the sudden release leaving you feeling both relieved and strangely bereft. You take in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you await his next move.
“Stay,” he commands, his voice low and authoritative, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s a simple word, but it carries the weight of his dominance, leaving you rooted to the spot as if by some unseen force.
You nod obediently, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. The anticipation builds within you, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling in the pit of your stomach.
With practised ease, he undoes the button and zipper of your pants, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Each touch sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as you wait.
In a swift and deliberate motion, Josh pulls down your pants, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. The fabric slips down your legs, pooling at your feet, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable yet strangely exhilarated by the raw display of dominance.
You feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening with anticipation. It’s as if a floodgate has been opened, releasing a torrent of desire that threatens to overwhelm you completely.
With a tantalising slowness, Josh trails his fingers along the hem of your underwear, the light touch sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine. Each caress is deliberate, drawing out the moment and heightening the tension between you.
You can feel the heat of his touch against your skin, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they skim along the fabric. It’s as if he’s testing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your control with every teasing stroke.
Your breath catches in your throat as his touch lingers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. 
With a husky voice, Josh murmurs in your ear, “You’re soaked,” as his fingers brush against your clothed cunt. His words send a jolt of electricity through you that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer. The air crackles with tension, thick with the heady scent of arousal that hangs between you like a veil.
As his fingers explore your pussy through your panties, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It’s as if he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to push you to the brink of ecstasy with every caress.
With a primal growl, Josh has had enough teasing. In one swift motion, he rips away your underwear. The fabric tears away with a sharp sound, echoing in the air like a crack of thunder, and you gasp at the suddenness of his action, leaving you completely exposed before him.
Now wholly vulnerable, you feel a rush of heat flood your body, your senses overwhelmed by him. The torn fabric hangs limply at your feet, a stark reminder of the power he wields over you in this moment.
You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him with dark, hooded eyes. There’s a hunger in his gaze, a primal desire that leaves you breathless and trembling in its wake. Almost on instinct, you close your legs, a futile attempt to deny Josh access to your exposed cunt. But he doesn’t falter; his determination is evident as he refuses to be deterred by your feeble resistance and rather pushes your legs open again.
“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he forces you to comply with his command. “Now, I want you to continue to spread your legs even wider for me.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of desire and fear coursing through you. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, his intensity unwavering as he exerts his control over you.
As he pushes one finger inside you, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
Josh continues to push and probe deeper, his finger stretching your tight walls further with each insistent thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, the sensation both intense and overwhelming as he delves deeper into the depths of your desire.
After what feels like an eternity, his fingers brush against something hidden deep within you, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel a surge of heat flood your senses, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. “Now, I want you to relax and let me take control.”
His words wash over you like a wave, soothing and commanding all at once. You find yourself yielding to his touch, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.
A smirk dances across Josh’s lips as he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “Yes. That’s a good girl.” His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation coursing through you at his commanding tone.
With deliberate precision, he begins to push another finger inside you, the sensation both intense and electrifying. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he delves deeper still.
His fingers penetrate you fully, searching for the right angle to send you spiralling into ecstasy. Each movement is deliberately calculated, as he explores every inch of your cunt with expert precision.
As he continues to push deeper, you can’t help but moan softly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.
When he slowly begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, stretching you further with each movement, you begin to moan and whimper. 
You feel like his touch drives you mad - it’s as if every caress, every sensation, sends sparks flying through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. 
“Hush, just relax and enjoy what I’m giving to you” Josh’s voice is smooth and reassuring, a comforting presence amidst the whirlwind of sensations as his breath comes out in short, ragged gasps.
His words wash over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within you. With a sense of trust and surrender, you allow yourself to let go completely, lost in the moment and the pleasure he provides.
As Josh continues to work his magic, his touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, you find yourself drifting deeper into a state of blissful abandon. Every caress, every movement, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
He roughly brushes his thumb over your clit, making you buck your hips against his hand with a low hiss. 
“Stay. Still.” Josh’s voice is a low, commanding growl, each word punctuated by a rough touch of his fingers against your cunt, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
The digits of his other hand dig into the skin of your hip.
His grip is firm and possessive as if he’s staking his claim over you in the most primal way. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating off him, his intensity overwhelming as he asserts his dominance over you.
You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, an involuntary response to his rough treatment that just scratches an itch you didn’t know you had. 
“Oh, you like that?” Josh’s voice is a low, husky murmur laced with desire and satisfaction as he picks up the pace even more, slamming his fingers into you with rough precision. His thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you wild with pleasure. “You’re such a dirty girl.”
His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he revels in the power he holds over you. 
Moans spill out your mouth, accompanied by the wet squelching sound of his fingers entering and stretching your pussy again and again. 
You’re completely gone, lost in a haze of desire and ecstasy. Your mind is devoid of coherent thoughts, consumed entirely by the intoxicating presence of Josh. He is all you can think about, all you can feel, as his touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
At that moment, there’s no room for anything else - only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly consumed by him. 
You find yourself drifting deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss, lost in a world of sensation and desire. Nothing else matters but him, his touch, his voice, as he guides you further and further into a realm of unbridled passion and ecstasy.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” Josh hisses, his voice dripping with desire and dominance as he continues to play you like an instrument. 
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of arousal and anticipation coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his gaze, you feel a sense of surrender, unable to resist the intoxicating pull he has over you.
His mouth finds your neck again, his teeth grazing across your skin as he kisses and nips at you, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The sensation is both exhilarating and slightly painful, a tangible reminder of his dominance and possession over you.
With each bite, each hickey, you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins, your skin tingling with a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s as if he’s branding you as his own, leaving his mark on your skin for all to see.
“Come for me now,” Josh commands, his voice laced with authority and desire, increasing the pressure on your clit with his thumb as he thrusts deeper and harder.
His words send a jolt of electricity through you, a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his command, you feel a sense of urgency, a need to obey his every word.
Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender completely to his will, allowing yourself to be carried away by the waves of pleasure he provides, and you cum, whimpering and bucking your hips. 
As the tides of pleasure wash over you, you feel a sense of liberation, a release of all the tension and desire that had been building within you. Josh’s command echoes in your mind, driving you to new heights of ecstasy as you give in completely to the pleasure he provides.
“Good girl,” Josh praises you, his voice tender and full of admiration as your body shudders from the intense orgasm.
His fingers relentlessly pound away at your tight cunt, as his thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you to new heights of pleasure as you ride out your high.
The words wash over you like a soothing balm, comforting and reassuring after the storm of pleasure you just experienced. You feel a sense of pride swell within you, knowing that you’ve pleased him and fulfilled his desires.
As your body begins to relax from the intensity of your climax, you lean into Josh, seeking solace in his arms, and he slowly begins to pull his fingers out of you. 
“Now that you’re nice and loose, it’s time for my cock.” Josh mumbles against your lips, his voice husky with desire.
His words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel a renewed sense of arousal building within you. 
A breathy moan falls from your lips as you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of what’s to come, eager to continue exploring the depths of pleasure with him.
Hearing your moan, he growls low and deep in his throat, his body shaking with need. The sound reverberates through the air, filling the room with raw, primal desire. It’s as if your moan ignites a fire within him, fueling his own craving for you.
His growl sends a shiver down your spine, a delicious thrill that only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, palpable and intoxicating as it washes over you.
He pulls his hand away from you, the loss of contact leaving you feeling strangely empty and yearning for more. With a sense of urgency, he unbuttons his pants, the sound echoing in the room as he frees his throbbing cock. 
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your eyes drawn to his dick that’s both thick and long, with precum glistening on the reddish head.
You whimper as the sight of him fills you with a heady mix of excitement and arousal. It’s as if every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the raw, primal energy that emanates from him.
“Take it, baby. Take all of me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire and longing as he positions himself at your entrance, his cockhead pressing against your wet folds. 
With a hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you up completely.
The sensation pushes all the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as your head falls back against the wall. You’re overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, and your senses are flooded with the sheer pleasure of being consumed by him.
As you adjust to the feeling of him inside, you realise he’s not wearing a condom, so his bare cock is filling your cunt completely.
“Shit, Josh,” you whimper, your voice trembling with concern, “You’re not wearing a condom.”
His eyes lock on yours, his face contorted in lust as he pushes deeper. You notice how blown wide his eyes look, their intensity almost unnerving as they bore into yours. His features are strained, every muscle in his face tense with desire, and you can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead, glistening in the dim light.
Despite the urgency of the situation, you find yourself captivated by him, unable to look away from the sheer intensity of his desire. 
“I don’t care about condoms right now, baby,” Josh growls, his voice low and husky with desire.
His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within your core. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the overwhelming pull of his passion.
In that moment, there’s a sense of reckless abandon, a willingness to throw caution to the wind in pursuit of the raw, unbridled pleasure that only he can provide. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, intoxicating and all-consuming as it washes over you.
His lips find yours once again, capturing them in a searing kiss that steals your breath away as he begins to move inside you, his thrusts deep and powerful. He reaches down to grip your hips, guiding you against him as he takes control of the rhythm.
His other hand slides up your stomach and over your breasts, pinching and twisting a nipple as he takes you harder and deeper.
At that electrifying moment, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the heat of his embrace. His kiss is a fiery inferno, igniting a blaze of desire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
You can feel the urgency in his touch, the raw hunger that drives him as he explores every inch of your mouth with a fervour that leaves you dizzy with desire. His lips move with a skilful precision, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from your lips as you melt into his embrace.
And as his lips finally part from yours, you find yourself longing for more, yearning to be consumed once again by the fiery passion that burns between you.
“But…I’m not on birth control,” you whimper as the haze momentarily lifts, the reality of the situation sinking in as you voice your concern. The possibility of him getting you pregnant looms large in your mind, casting a shadow over the heat of the moment as Josh continues to thrust into your wet cunt unwaveringly. 
“I don’t care,” he repeats his earlier words, his voice thick with desire as he disregards your concerns. With a primal intensity, he sinks his teeth into your neck once again, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, “You’re going to take it when I cum - you're gonna love it.”
As his teeth graze against your skin, you can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him as it washes over you, and you buck your hips against his.
You feel his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you moan breathlessly as well as clench around him.
You gaze at Josh, captivated by the sight of him lost in ecstasy. His eyes flutter closed, his head thrown back, revealing the graceful curve of his neck. At that moment, he looks utterly breathtaking, his features softened by pleasure, a blissful expression gracing his handsome face.
The play of emotions across his features and the subtle movements of his lips as he gasps for breath all serve to heighten his allure. His tousled hair falls in disarray around his face, adding to his rugged charm. The flush of arousal paints his cheeks a rosy hue, highlighting the chiselled contours of his jawline.
In the dim light, every inch of him seems to glow with an ethereal radiance, casting him in an almost otherworldly light. 
He grinds against you, his hips pumping rhythmically as he loses himself in the sensation of being inside you. 
“Oh fuck, yes...” He groans, his body trembling as he pushes deeper into you with each thrust, his thick dick hitting your cervix with a loud smack, making you cry out. “You feel so good... so fucking tight.”
The rough texture of the wall adds a new dimension to the already intense sensations coursing through your veins. As Josh presses you against it with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, every scrape and bump against your skin sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. 
His lips curve into a wicked grin as he feels you trembling underneath him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he bites down hard on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting harder into your cunt in a primal rhythm, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure-pain from your lips.
Your body arches into his with every powerful thrust. 
“That’s it, baby. Let me mark you up while I fuck you hard and deep against the wall.” He growls out as he continues to pound into you, his cock slamming inside you with each powerful thrust and his teeth nibbling away on your soft skin.
The sensation is electrifying, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins every time he marks you with his teeth. His grip tightens on your skin, holding you in place as he savours the taste of you, his lips lingering on the spot where his teeth sank into your flesh.
It’s a moment of exquisite intensity, the sharp bite of pain mingling with the heady rush of pleasure as he claims you as his own. 
“You like that, baby?” He growls, his voice heavy with lust.
The sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. It’s a question laden with desire, a testament to the intensity of the moment as he waits for your response.
With a ragged breath, you nod and whimper in response, unable to form words as pleasure courses through your veins. His growl reverberates through you, filling you with a heady mix of anticipation and arousal as you surrender yourself completely to the heat of the moment.
He continues to pound into you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust, almost hard enough to make you wince. 
His teeth dig deeper into your shoulder as he loses himself in the sensation of claiming you. “Fuck... I’m gonna cum…”
His words send a jolt of anticipation coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment. With each ragged breath, the tension between you builds, reaching a fever pitch as you both hurtle towards the brink of ecstasy.
Feeling his grip tighten on your skin, you can sense his impending release, the urgency in his movements driving you both towards the edge.
“Not inside, please,” you plead, locking eyes with him, your voice trembling as you feel his cock pistoning in and out of you, scrapping that one spot that makes you see stars.
But he doesn’t waver, his gaze unwavering as he continues with his relentless pace. The intensity of his desire overwhelms any sense of restraint, his need for release consuming him entirely. You can only take it helplessly as his movements grow more frenzied, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy. 
Josh moves his hand down to rub your clit even harder, desperate to make you cum with him. 
“Cum for me, baby…” he commands, his voice thick with desire and authority.
His words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. Despite any reservations or fears, you find yourself unable to resist his command, surrendering yourself completely to his will. With each thrust and caress, he pushes you closer and closer to the brink, his commanding presence fueling the flames of your desire.
And then, with a primal cry of pleasure, you finally succumb to his command, your body convulsing with ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you.
“Fuck...” Josh groans, his voice heavy with desire and satisfaction as he feels you orgasm around him. 
His hips buck wildly against yours, driving his cock deep inside you one last time before he tips over the edge as well, letting out a long, low groan.
Hot cum fills your cunt, his body shuddering with release. You feel his muscles tensing as he thrusts a few more times, milking himself into your pussy, making sure he’s completely spent.
As you slowly come down from the heights of ecstasy, a wave of realisation washes over you. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you become acutely aware of the warmth spreading within you.
Josh’s breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion. As he gazes down at you, his eyes are a tumultuous storm of emotions, a swirling mix of lust, tenderness and something dark that leaves you breathless.
In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadows, adding an air of mystery to his already intense gaze. You can see the raw desire burning within him, a primal hunger that seems to consume him entirely. But beneath the heat of his lust, there’s also a flicker of something softer, something more vulnerable and intimate.
It’s a paradoxical combination that leaves you utterly captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from his intense stare. 
“I want to spend all night inside you,” he growls, his voice low.
His words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a fierce craving deep within you. 
As you gaze up at him, his gaze is smouldering with raw passion, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. There’s a hunger in his stare, a need that threatens to consume you both entirely - he’s acting as if possessed.
You can feel your pulse quicken at his words, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. 
Josh pulls back from you, creating a small distance between your bodies. As he does, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, causing you to slump against the wall for support. The intensity of the moment begins to fade, leaving you feeling drained and spent. Your muscles ache with exertion, and every breath feels heavy as you try to catch your breath. 
You feel his cock softening inside you and finally slipping out of your well-fucked cunt. 
In the back of your mind, you register the sensation of his cum dripping from you, coating your thighs, pooling at your feet and staining the floor beneath you. 
You sense Josh’s gaze lingering on your pussy as well as the mess on the floor. As you glance up, you catch a glimpse of his darkening gaze, a flicker of desire reigniting within him.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not done here,” he growls out, his voice dripping with desire as he leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His free hand slides down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss with a hunger that leaves you breathless.
At that moment, time seems to stand still as you’re consumed by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his body pressed against yours as his lips move hungrily against yours.
As he breaks the kiss, his eyes smouldering with desire, he whispers, “We’ve got all night,” his words sending a shiver down your spine.
Your breath catches in your throat as you notice the change in Josh’s demeanour, a sinking feeling of exhaustion settling deep within you. But as you struggle to regain your composure, you realise that he doesn’t care. With a forceful grip, he pulls you roughly from the wall and into the bedroom, heedless of the fatigue that weighs heavily on your shoulders.
As you stumble along in his wake, you feel the exhaustion gnawing at your insides, a relentless ache that threatens to overwhelm you. Each step feels like a Herculean effort, your limbs heavy with fatigue as you struggle to keep pace with Josh’s determined stride.
Despite the weariness that courses through your body, you can’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation at the prospect of what awaits you in the bedroom. The thought of surrendering to the raw passion that simmers between you and Josh ignites a spark of desire within you, momentarily overshadowing the fatigue that threatens to drag you down.
But as you continue to move forward, you can’t ignore the sensation of moisture trickling down your thighs, a silent reminder of what happened with Josh just moments ago. It’s a stark contrast to the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your shoulders, a potent reminder of the conflicting emotions swirling within you.
In the dim light of the bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Josh’s intense gaze, his eyes ablaze with desire.
He closes the door behind him, the click echoing in the silent room, his towering figure casting a shadow over you as he stands before you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His massive body looms over yours, his presence dominating the space as he stares down at you with fiery eyes that seem to pierce through your very soul.
“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with emotion and raw desire. The words hang heavy in the air, charged with an urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his proximity igniting a fire within you.
Despite the exhaustion that still lingers in the depths of your being, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. His words wash over you like a tidal wave, stirring something primal and untamed deep within you.
As you meet his gaze, you can see the hunger burning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own as you stand on the precipice of desire, teetering on the edge of something wild and unrestrained. 
With a forceful motion, he throws you onto the bed, the impact sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. You land with a soft thud, the mattress yielding beneath your weight as you find yourself sprawled out before him.
As you try to catch your breath, you feel his hand wrap around your throat, the pressure firm yet strangely gentle, sending a thrill of anticipation racing down your spine. His touch is possessive, a silent declaration of ownership that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins.
“You belong to me now,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and desire, as he asserts his dominance over you.
With deliberate movements, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he gazes down at you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His eyes are dark pools of desire, burning with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole.
As he hovers over you, his hand firm against your throat, a faint perfume wafts through the air, tickling your senses with its familiar scent. In the dim light of the room, you recognise it instantly - Renais, his wife’s signature fragrance. The realisation sends a chill down your spine, mingling with the heat of desire that still courses through your veins.
Suddenly, you feel the weight of his wedding band pressing against your throat, a cold reminder of the reality of the situation. It’s a stark contrast to the fiery passion that burns between you, a sobering reminder of the boundaries that exist in this forbidden tryst.
In the depths of your mind, a voice whispers warnings of the consequences that loom on the horizon, a reminder of the tangled web of deceit and desire that threatens to ensnare you both. But in the heat of the moment, those warnings fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the primal urge that drives you forward.
As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt gnawing at your conscience. But it’s quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need that pulses through your veins, urging you to surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.
His lips crash against yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless, his kiss rough and demanding, a declaration of his desire. At that moment, all thoughts of guilt and consequence vanish, replaced by the searing heat of his touch and the intoxicating taste of his lips.
You respond eagerly, yielding to the fervent intensity of his kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more. The world fades away around you, consumed by the fiery passion that ignites between you, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace.
With each brush of his lips against yours, you feel yourself falling deeper under his spell, lost in the heady whirlwind of desire that threatens to consume you whole. 
Feeling the weight of his body pressing down on you, a sudden awareness strikes you like a bolt of lightning - he’s fully clothed while you remain bare and exposed, a stark contrast that sends a shiver down your spine. The only thing that’s uncovered is his soft cock that you feel against your thigh. 
In a desperate bid to bridge the gap between you, to regain some sense of equilibrium in this uneven playing field, you reach for the fabric of his shirt. Your fingers tremble as you fumble with the buttons, your movements fueled by a mix of urgency and desire. With each button you undo, the tension in the room ratchets up another notch, the air crackling with anticipation.
As the fabric falls away, revealing the contours of his chest and the sinewy muscles that ripple beneath his skin, you’re struck by just how good he looks. With trembling hands, you push the shirt down his arms.
His physique is a sight to behold, a perfect mix of strength and grace that leaves you breathless. His arms are defined and powerful, the muscles flexing beneath the surface as he moves. And his chest, adorned with a light dusting of chest hair, rises and falls with each ragged breath, a testament to the intensity of the moment.
In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadow, adding an air of mystery to his already alluring presence. But despite the darkness that surrounds him, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, the maddening desire that burns within him.
“Get me hard again,” he tells you, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “Be my good girl, yes?”
His words ignite a surge of arousal within you, coursing through your veins like wildfire as you realise the power of his praise. 
In that moment, you realise just how much you crave his approval, how much you long to please him in every way possible. And as his words sink in, you feel a newfound sense of purpose wash over you, driving you to fulfil his every desire with a fervor you never knew you possessed. With a sense of determination, you set out to do just as he commands, eager to prove yourself as his obedient and eager girl.
He lays himself down on his back, a picture of casual confidence, and crosses his arms behind his head. His gaze meets yours, an eyebrow raised in silent expectation as if to say, go on, do it.
You lower yourself onto your knees, positioning yourself exactly where he wants you, his soft cock just in front of you, glistening and coated in both your releases.
Even soft, you notice that he is quite big, with a vein on the underside of it and embedded in a well-groomed nest of dark hair. 
His gaze remains fixed on yours, a silent invitation urging you to continue. And as you lean in closer, the air crackles with electricity, charged with the promise of what’s to come.
“That’s right, take my cock into your mouth,” his voice commands, resonating with authority as he reaches out to guide his dick with his big hands, holding it steady for you to take.
His directive sends a shiver down your spine, and with a sense of obedience, you lean forward, your lips parting to welcome him eagerly. As your mouth envelops him, your lips slowly stretch around the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around the slit. 
You feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you’re fulfilling his wishes. He is heavy and hot against your tongue as you taste the combination of yourself and him on it.
He grins wickedly as he watches his cock harden in your mouth. The sight of you submitting to him ignites a fire within him. 
His hands guide you, steady and firm, as you take him deeper, savouring the taste and texture of him. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to bring him the utmost pleasure. And as you follow his lead, you feel a sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that you have the power to drive him wild with desire.
A whimper escapes you as he presses his cock deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag that you struggle to suppress. The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building as you try to accommodate him. Despite your efforts, you can’t help but gag more.
His grip tightens on your head, his hands exerting control as he guides you through each movement. His eyes darken at the sight of you struggling to take him deep into your throat, causing him to swell even more within you. 
“That’s my little slut, taking me without any trouble,” he growls out, his voice dripping with a mix of pride and lust as he watches you struggle with his girth in your mouth.
His words send a shiver down your spine, a heady mixture of shame and arousal coursing through your veins. Despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in being called his slut, a twisted validation of your submission to him.
Each gag is met with a grunt of approval from him, his grip tightening on your head as he revels in your obedience. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he hits your uvula, causing you to pull back slightly in discomfort.
“Don’t be a bad girl,” he reprimands, his voice firm as he reaches down to pull your hair roughly, forcing you to take more of his cock.
His grip is relentless, his fingers tangled in your hair as he exerts control over you. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you can’t help but obey, the fear of his reprimand driving you to comply with his demands.
You choke back a sob as he pushes deeper into your mouth, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. Each movement is met with a sharp tug on your hair, a reminder of who is in control.
As you struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you feel a sense of helplessness wash over you, a realisation that you are completely at his mercy. 
“That’s it, take it like the dirty little slut you are,” he growls out, his voice thick with desire as he starts to thrust his hips forward, fucking your mouth roughly. Each movement drives his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each forceful thrust, making you gag even more.
The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building in your chest as you struggle to accommodate him. 
You use the flat of your hands to push down on his hip, desperately trying to create some distance between you and him as spots start to dance in the corners of your eyes.
“I thought you were my good girl?” Josh chuckles, his voice laced with amusement as he easily overpowers your feeble attempts to resist. With a swift motion, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other still tightly gripping your hair. Despite your struggles, his cock continues to push further into your throat with every thrust, leaving you gasping for air and completely at his mercy.
The pressure on your wrists is almost unbearable, the sensation of being held down fueling your sense of helplessness. You can feel his control tightening around you, his dominance asserting itself in every forceful movement.
As you struggle against his grip, the realisation sinks in that you’re completely powerless to stop him. All you can do is submit to his will, surrendering yourself to the pleasure and pain of his relentless possession.
“That’s it,” Josh groans out, his voice thick with desire as he notices your surrender. With renewed determination, he continues to thrust his hips forward, driving his thick shaft deeper into your throat with each powerful stroke.
The sensation is overwhelming, the relentless pressure pushing you to your limits as you struggle to accommodate him. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, blurring the lines between ecstasy and agony.
But despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing that you’re fulfilling his desires, that you’re giving yourself over completely to his dominance. And as he continues to push deeper and deeper, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of submission, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Josh growls out as he bottoms out, his cock hitting the back of your throat, eliciting a muffled moan from you. With a soft pop, he withdraws slightly before thrusting harder and faster, taking advantage of the tightness of your mouth around his girth.
Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire of desire that burns hotter with each passing moment. You’re completely at his mercy, completely consumed by the raw intensity of the moment.
Despite the discomfort and the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim, there’s an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his primal urges, in giving yourself over completely to his dominance. 
“That’s enough,” he growls out, finally pulling out of your throat. You cough and splutter, your throat raw from the rough treatment he’s given you, tears streaming down your cheeks.
As you catch your breath, you glance over at him, sprawled out on the bed with an air of satisfaction. His eyes, dark and intense, meet yours, and a mischievous smirk plays at the corners of his lips. Beads of sweat dot his forehead and chest, accentuating the contours of his toned physique.
Despite the rough treatment you’ve endured, there’s an undeniable allure to his presence as he lies there, completely in control. His dominance hangs heavy in the air, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You find yourself unable to look away, captivated by the raw power he exudes.
With each breath he takes, you feel a surge of desire course through you, mingling with the lingering traces of fear. It’s a heady mix of emotions, one that leaves you both exhilarated and apprehensive. 
“Now that was a fucking good blowjob, you little slut,” Josh smirks at you, his voice heavy with satisfaction as his cock stands proudly and leaks pre-cum. He tugs on your hair again, gently but firmly, pulling your face up to meet his gaze.
You meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his, and you can see the hunger burning behind his darkened irises. It’s a look that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, knowing that he’s not finished with you yet.
With a soft whimper, you lean into his touch, surrendering yourself to his control once more. 
“You’re going to love this, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. Before you can react, he kisses you roughly, his lips possessing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With a swift motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him as he settles on top.
His weight presses you into the mattress, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the forcefulness of his actions, there’s an undeniable heat in his touch that ignites a fire within you. You can feel the strength of his body against yours, his muscles tense with desire as he holds you captive beneath him.
As he leans down to capture your lips again, you can’t help but lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the passion that consumes you both. 
With a firm grip, he pins your wrists above your head, holding them in place with one hand while using the other to spread your legs wide open.
Your eyes widen as he reaches for something on the nightstand, and you feel a surge of apprehension when you see that it’s rope. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and fear as you realise what he intends to do with it.
He smirks at your reaction, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he holds up the coil of rope, letting it dangle tantalisingly between his fingers. With deliberate slowness, he begins to unravel it, the length of the rope glinting in the dim light of the bedroom.
Josh’s grin widens into a wicked smirk as he deftly ties your wrists and ankles to the bedposts, securing the ropes with practised precision. Each knot is firm, leaving you completely immobilised and at his mercy.
You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you lie there, bound and helpless, the sensation of vulnerability sending shivers down your spine. But beneath the fear, there’s an undeniable thrill coursing through your veins, the anticipation of what’s to come heightening your arousal.
As Josh steps back to admire his handiwork, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation. 
He then moves between your legs again and parts your already fucked pussy with his two hands, revealing how wet you are. You feel the cold air on your heated cunt and buck your hips involuntarily while simultaneously clenching your pussy, feeling more of his cum drip out onto the sheets. 
Exposed and vulnerable, you can’t shake the feeling of self-consciousness that washes over you as you lie there, bound and completely open before Josh and you squirm.
Josh’s eyes narrow as he observes your futile attempts to escape his gaze as he drinks in the sight before him. 
As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can feel the raw intensity of his desire coursing through you, sending shivers down your spine. 
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Josh raise his hand, anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. With a sharp intake of breath, you brace yourself for the impact, knowing that the sting of his touch will send waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
When his hand finally makes contact with your bare cunt, the sensation is both exhilarating and intense. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as the force of his touch leaves a red print behind, the sting mingling with the throbbing heat that radiates from the point of impact.
Despite the initial shock, you find yourself craving more, your body responding instinctively to the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that Josh’s touch elicits. 
Josh’s chuckle reverberates in the room, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine as you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. Yet, despite the heat rising in your cheeks, there’s also a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, a thrill at being so completely under his control.
As Josh continues to deliver alternating slaps to your pussy, thighs and lower belly, the sensations become increasingly overwhelming, each impact sending a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body. Your mind becomes foggy, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment as you surrender yourself to the exquisite torment of his touch.
With each stroke of his hand, the line between pain and pleasure blurs, the sensations merging into a symphony of ecstasy that leaves you gasping for breath. And as Josh teases your clit with his thumb, you find yourself completely lost in the moment, unable to think of anything but the overwhelming desire that courses through your veins.
His other hand grips the base of his cock, stroking it in rhythm with each slap.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. With each spank, he increases the force, leaving angry red marks blossoming across your thighs, cunt and lower belly. The sting intensifies with each strike, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. 
You struggle against the ropes, your body straining against the bonds as you watch Josh’s lips curl into a predatory smile. His eyes gleam with desire as he observes your futile attempts to free yourself from the tight restraints that bind you.
With a final hard slap to your skin, leaving a particularly angry red mark in its wake, Josh withdraws his hand, the sound echoing in the room. He moves between your spread legs, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow and his cock twitching in anticipation.
“Say my name when you come,” he growls, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. The command hangs in the air, heavy with anticipation, as you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins at his words.
Almost instinctively, you arch your back and buck your hips against him, a desperate attempt to feel more of him, to draw him closer. The movement elicits a deep groan from Josh as he positions the head of his cock at the entrance to your wet pussy and thrusts forward powerfully, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion, eliciting an obscenely loud squelching noise. 
“Fuck.”
As the sensations overwhelm you, your body responds instinctively, and you’re sent hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. It hits you so unexpectedly and intensely that, for a brief moment, it feels like everything else fades away. Your senses are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, and you feel like you’re on the brink of blacking out.
Through the haze of pleasure, you hear Josh’s voice, husky and commanding, urging you to say his name. It’s a demand that sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the sensations pulsing through your body. You feel his grip on your hips tighten as he thrusts into you with unrestrained passion, driving you further into the depths of bliss. Every movement, every touch, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in ecstasy.
He continues to pound into you, fucking you through your intense orgasm that feels neverending.
“You’re mine now,” Josh’s hands grip your hips tightly, leaving more red handprints as he continues to fuck you with a brutal intensity, his fingers digging into your skin as if to brand you as his own. 
As his teeth graze your neck and shoulder, leaving behind a trail of painful but exhilarating marks once more, a rush of sensation courses through you, blending pleasure with a hint of pain. Yet, strangely, it only serves to heighten your pleasure, drawing you deeper into his spell.
You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he claims you with an almost primal ferocity.
At this moment, there is no room for hesitation or restraint. You surrender to the relentless onslaught of sensations, giving yourself over completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. Every movement, every touch, sends electric jolts of ecstasy racing through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole.
As Josh continues to possess you with a brutal intensity, his dominance over you becomes undeniable. 
“That’s it, baby. Scream my name,” he growls, his cock throbbing and his voice thick with desire as he feels you approaching another orgasm. 
With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful as he seeks to send you spiralling into ecstasy once more.
Your body quivers with anticipation as Josh’s words drive you to the brink of ecstasy. With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel every movement, every sensation magnified as Josh’s relentless assault pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
“Yes...Come for me,” he groans, his voice heavy with lust as he feels your walls tightening around him, signalling your impending climax. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, the urgency in his movements matching the intensity of your pleasure. 
As you approach the peak of your pleasure, your mind becomes consumed by a single thought: Josh. His name echoes in your mind like a mantra, driving you further into the depths of ecstasy. And as you feel the wave of orgasmic bliss wash over you once again, you can’t help but obey his command, your voice rising in a primal scream of pleasure.
“Yes, yes,” he chants, his voice a husky whisper as he feels you come apart around him, your body trembling beneath him. The sight of your ecstasy only fuels his own, pushing him further into the depths of euphoria.
You know he’s close, and you struggle against the bindings again when you realise he will come inside you again. “No, Josh, not again,” you plead, the urgency evident in your voice as you try to convey your concern.
Despite your protests, Josh’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine, his tone filled with determination and dominance. “Oh yes, and you’ll take it again,” he promises, his thrusts growing more forceful as he edges closer to his climax, "Don't pretend that you don't like it - that you don't crave to feel my cum deep inside you."
As you whimper and moan, Josh only seems to grow more determined. Roughly, his thumb finds you clit again, rubbing hard and fast circles. 
He pushes you into another small orgasm, eliciting a mixture of pleasure and discomfort from you. He grunts in response, feeling your walls convulsing around him. His thrusts grow even more powerful as he pushes you over the edge once again.
“Fuck... yes...,” he groans, “You’re mine tonight.” He continues to pound into you, leaving more bruises and bite marks on your body as he takes ownership of you.
”I’m not going to stop until I fill you up,” he snarls, his thrusts becoming more erratic and powerful. He can feel his climax building once again, ready to claim you completely, "Fuck, you're gonna be so full it spills out of you."
Despite your struggles against the ropes, you find yourself helpless, unable to escape his relentless advance. Moans and whimpers escape your lips as you feel the inevitable approach of his next release, your body trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear.
“That’s it, baby. Take my cum,” he growls, his hips bucking wildly as he releases inside you. You feel the warm rush of his cum filling you, marking you as his own as your mind becomes blissfully quiet.
He continues to thrust deeply until every last drop is buried deep within your cunt, claiming you completely and marking you as his own, before finally pulling out with a wet, satisfying sound. His eyes are dark and predatory as he looks down at you, catching his breath.
“You’re such a slut.” He mutters, his eyes fixed on your dripping pussy. His fingers trail down your skin, tracing the path of his cum as it drips from your twitching and gaping pussy. 
“I bet you’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” he whispers, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.
With a final lingering glance, Josh leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, his voice laced with possessiveness.
As Josh’s lips graze the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. His touch, once dominating and rough, now feels surprisingly gentle against your sensitive flesh as he runs his fingers over the countless red and purple marks he’s left on your skin.
With a sense of relief, you feel the ropes around your wrists and ankles loosen, allowing you to move freely once again. As Josh unties you, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - a potent blend of desire, confusion, and a lingering sense of vulnerability.
As the last knot comes undone, you find yourself looking up at Josh, searching his eyes for any trace of the intensity that had consumed him moments before. But all you see is a softness, a hint of tenderness that belies the roughness of his previous actions. Almost unwillingly, you yawn, the bone-deep exhaustion now evident that you're able to come down.
“Sleep now, baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
With those words, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace as you start to sink into a deep sleep, overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly fucked out.
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dumbslxtclub · 1 year
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you’re on your own kid | e.m
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eddie munson x pregnant!reader
summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.
content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, some canon divergence, mentions of death, reader is 19, slow burn
word count: 1.5K+
↳ one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven
Part One: Blood, Sweat and Tears
Gone. The word echoed through your head like a broken record as you sit motionless against the rusting fridge in your poor excuse for a kitchen. The moment you saw the crew walking back to you, sans Steve, with their heads hung low, you knew. Dustin's eyes met yours, heavy with emotion and you couldn’t contain it. He wasn’t coming back.
The last few hours have been a blur. Robin driving you home, offering to stay the night, pushing aside her own needs post Upside-Down to make sure yours were accommodated first. But all you wanted, needed, right now was to be alone. The second she shut the door to the trailer behind her, the silence filled the space and it all came crashing down.
He’s gone, and he didn’t even know.
From the get-go, you and Steve had never been anything serious. You had started out strictly friends-with-benefits, a name on one another’s rotating rosters. But as the year passed, you began spending time with his circle and cutting out the other men in your life. He introduced you to Robin, who you immediately clicked with and twisted Keith’s arm until he offered you a job at Family Video with the duo. You would accompany him on “babysitting” duties, as Dustin often insisted on your presence to keep Steve in line. Despite the casual nature of your relationship, you and Steve had grown closer by the day. You knew he was still seeing other girls, but that didn’t bother you. After all, that’s all this was meant to be: casual, detached.
And then that fucking test happened.
It started off as a slow Tuesday morning with Robin, the two of you using the front counter of Family Video as your personal breakfast bar. You unwrapped your monstrosity of a meal, a PBJ sandwich with pickles and Hot Cheetos on the side.
“Jesus Christ, did someone hold you hostage and force you to make that?” She gawked at your sandwich, inspecting the leftover half as you shoved the soft white bread into your mouth. You let out a dramatic hum as the salty yet sweet combination hit your tongue, quickly following it with the heat from the Cheetos to ensure maximum taste to texture impact.
“Shit, so good! Don’t knock it until you try it. It’s like sex in your mouth.” You replied, the thick peanut butter coating your teeth and muffling your words. Robin dropped the sandwich down on the counter, clearly not about to partake in your offer to share this morning.
“I’ll take your word for it. I’m happy with my choice, thank you very much.” She proudly unwraps her breakfast muffin. Thick orange American cheese hangs over the lip, nestled between fatty bacon and a sunny-side up egg. You wrinkle your nose in disgust, waving your hand in her direction.
“Oh god, get that away from me! The smell of the egg-” You shake your head, pacing a few steps backwards to get away from the stench of her unappetising breakfast choice. She quirks her brow at you, you can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.
“You love my Buckley McMuffins.”
“Not today, I don’t.” You can feel your stomach churning, and reach for your large cherry slushie, hoping the sugary-sweet drink will quell the storm brewing in your tummy.
Robin’s expression begins to morphe as she studies you intently, like a child fascinated by their favorite animal at the zoo. You, on the other hand, are not so impressed by her gawking.
“What?!” You snap, slightly irritated. Immediately, you feel a wash of guilt come over you, why did you just snap at her like that? “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“You and Steve are using protection, right?” You practically choke on your slushie at the candidness of her question so early in the morning.
“Robin!”
“I don’t need all the details of your sex life. I’m just wondering-”
“Of course we do! God, the last thing I need right now is a kid.” You shake the mere thought out of your head.
“Yeah, no totally. I mean, pregnancy alone is a lot to deal with, y’know, what with all the cravings and hormones making you snappy and irritable-”
“Robin.”
“- not to mention the nausea-”
“I had a bad fish taco last week! And I-”
“-Restlessness, acne, your boobs get massive-”
“Robin! I-” You shake your head at her insinuations. “Wait, do you think my boobs have gotten bigger?”
Her eyes widen as she nods her head. “Um, hello! You’re giving the Elvira cut-out a run for her money. We should take her down and just have you stand in the window.”
Oh, she’s serious. You let out an incredulous laugh.
“Absolutely not, like there’s no way! I mean, Steve and I are careful. Like, most of the time. And I would have noticed by now if something was off? Like, yeah, my period has been a bit all over the shop lately but that’s normal…” Robin squints slightly at you as she watches you subconsciously shift from trying to convince her to trying to convince yourself. The realization begins to wash over you, and you feel the pit of your stomach drop. “Oh, fuck.”
The two of you took an extended lunch break to take a trip to the store, and three tests later, your fears were confirmed. Your head began racing a million miles an hour, and thankfully Robin was happy to cover for you for the rest of the day. How were you going to tell Steve?
And then, suddenly, there was no time. Now, you’ll never have the chance to tell him.
A gutteral sob left your throat before you had the chance to register it, bringing you crashing down to reality. Sitting on the laminate floors of your cramped kitchen, the overhead fluorescent illuminating your shaking legs extended in front of you. Unable and unwilling to hold back your emotions any longer, you opened the floodgates and allowed tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The type of pain where it felt like your heart was being crushed in your chest, diaphragm spasming as it struggled to keep up with the pace of your sobs. You tucked your knees into your chest and hugged them tightly, as if willing to vanish from this world completely. You’re not sure how long you stay there for, time seemingly pausing for your pain. It’s not until you hear a sharp knock at the door that you’re snapped back to reality.
“Go away, Robin.” She really is a wonderful friend, but seeing her in this state is the absolute last thing you need right now.
Another knock.
You throw your head back against the cool surface of the fridge in defeat before getting to your feet. Wiping away the streaks of tears that now stain your puffy and pink cheeks, you make a miniscule effort to pull yourself together as you walk to the door, hoping to make this interaction brief.
“Robin, please, just go home-” You swing open the creaking door, running a hand over your face in exasperation. Instead of being greeted with Robin’s smaller frame, you’re instead confronted with a taller, darker frame. Despite being obscured by the dim night, the mess of hair crowning his head is unmistakable.
“Eddie?” As he takes a step closer to the door, you can now see he’s looking worse for wear, despite having cleaned up post Upside-Down. Fresh cuts mark his face, dirt under his fingernails indicate his attention wasn’t on the details of his appearance.
“Hey.” He quietly mumbles, staring down at his stained Reeboks. “I, um- I just wanted to see how you were going.”
You purse your lips together, trying to keep the floodgates closed until you are back in your bubble of solitude.
“Yeah. I’m- I’m here.” That’s the best you can do right now, here sums it up. You’re still here, unlike Steve…
You scrunch up your face into a forced smile, hoping that will satiate Eddie. He gives a solemn nod, clearing his throat as he contemplates his next words. He shifts his weight uncomfortably, and you can’t help but wonder if someone has sent him here to check up on you. Dustin, perhaps?
“Well, I’ll uh- leave you to it.” He chews nervously on his lower lip, sure to break one of the fresh scabs that has begun to crust over. “But um- y’know if you’re ever not okay or just like, need some help or company or whatever- you know where to find me.”
He gestures to the adjacent trailer, and you give a small but more genuine smile.
“Sure, Eddie. You too, okay?” He gives a nod and a small wave as he turns back to his home, and you close the door behind him.
You lean against the frame and pull up your oversized sweatshirt, pushing the thought of how it once belonged to Steve out of your mind. You peer down at your slightly swollen belly, a barely noticeable bump protruding but undetectable to anyone who was unaware. You take a deep inhale as you run your fingertips against the delicate skin.
It’s nice to know you’ll never be completely alone.
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south-of-heaven · 9 months
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Can I pretty pls have a Priestly x Fem reader where after having a panic attack she says to them “Look, everyone is just better off without me, okay?” and they are just the sweetest? 🥺
Better off without me || Rhea Ripley x Reader x Damian Priest
Summary: In the midst of a panic attack you admit to your lovers that you think they would be better off without you.
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You've been struggling silently, trying to cope with the weight of your emotions. As you stand there, feeling like a burden to your partners you can't shake the feeling that you're undeserving of their love and support.
One evening, the weight becomes too much to bear, and you find yourself in the midst of a panic attack. Your heart races, and it feels like the walls are closing in on you. You try to control your breathing, but it's as if you're drowning in your own thoughts.
Rhea and Damian, ever perceptive, notice your distress. They rush to your side, their faces filled with concern and care. "Hey, what's going on?" Rhea asks gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
But in that moment of vulnerability, the words spill out before you can stop them. "Look, everyone would just be better off without me, I ruin everything," you admit, your voice trembling with raw emotion.
Rhea and Damian exchange a concerned glance, their hearts breaking to see you in such pain. "No, that's not true," Damian insists firmly. "You're not a burden. We love you, and we're here for you, no matter what."
Rhea nods, her expression full of love and determination. "You don't have to face this alone," she says, her voice soft but unwavering. "We're a team, and we support each other."
But the feeling of self-doubt lingers, and you can't help but feel like you don't deserve the love and care they're offering. However, Rhea and Damian are not ones to give up easily.
They gently guide you to sit down, wrapping their arms around you in a comforting embrace. "You're not alone in this," Rhea whispers, her voice full of compassion. "We all have our struggles, but we face them together."
Damian leans in, his forehead touching yours, his eyes filled with empathy. "We're stronger together," he says softly. "Your presence in our lives is a gift, not a burden, baby."
In that moment, you realize that you've been holding onto these feelings in isolation, not wanting to burden your partners with your pain. But they've shown you that they're willing to stand by you, even in the darkest of times.
"We love you," Rhea says, her voice firm and unwavering. "And we won't let you go through this alone."
With their words of love and support echoing in your mind, you begin to feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps you don't have to face your struggles alone after all. Together, you can find strength in each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows of life.
As the panic attack begins to subside, Rhea and Damian stay by your side, holding you close and offering comfort. They assure you that you are valued and loved, and that you're an essential part of their lives.
In the days that follow, you continue to lean on Rhea and Damian, sharing your burdens and allowing them to share theirs. Through open communication and unwavering support, the three of you grow even closer, forming an unbreakable bond.
You realize that, together, you can weather any storm, and that the love you share with Rhea and Damian is a source of strength and healing. You're no longer afraid to lean on them or to express your feelings, knowing that they'll be there to catch you when you fall.
And as the days go by, the love and understanding you share become a beacon of hope, guiding you through the darkest moments and reminding you that you are never alone – that, with Rhea Ripley and Damian Priest by your side, you can conquer anything that comes your way.
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konigbabe · 1 year
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the five times you meet phillip graves
Author: @konigbabe
Pairing: Phillip Graves x fem!reader
Word count: 5.6k
Tags/Warnings: cod mwii campaign spoilers; swearing; enemies to those who tolerate each other; kissing; blood and injury; minor violence; cursing; pet names; gunshot/knife wounds; inaccurate military procedures/terms; inaccurate cia procedures; use of codenames/callsigns
Summary:  The five times you meet Cmdr. Phillip Graves and the one time he surprises you.
Inspired by the book The Five Times I Met Myself by James L. Rubart.
masterlist • request • faq • taglist • AO3 • ko-fi
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01 ˚✧ ┊ The first time; he irritates you.
A guttural grunt escapes your throat, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as the car before you speed up. A series of fucks and dammits leaves your mouth; foot on the accelerator, you follow the asset on the dirty road.
Where the fuck are they, you curse internally, barely missing the rotten fence as you near the end of the farm; this is the only chance to stop the asset with air support Shepherd sent to help you—that be if they were actually here.
The car never slows down, drifting through the abandoned farm, away from you. A static cracks next to you, before an unknown, rather casual voice comes through, “Echo 3-6, this is Shadow-1. Engaging the silo north of your position.”
Finally, you reach for the transmitter next to you, “Shadow-1, you’re free to fire but do not engage near the car, I need him alive.”
“Roger that,” the man says before all hell breaks loose; and to your dismay, you watch in horror as your asset’s car turns right towards the silo, intended to drive right past it the very same second the Shadow Company opens fire. A loud explosion blinds you momentarily as you slam the brakes.
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Almost none of the men manage to exit the plane before you storm into the vehicle, rage surging through your veins; the red lightning matching your emotions.
“Which one of you is Shadow-1?” you stop a masked man about to leave, hand on his shoulder as you look around; and your eyes land on the only man without a mask and uniform—dirty blond hair, narrowed eyes shining with blue ice, lips pressed tight. He stays leaning against the side of the aircraft, hands clutching the top of his vest; and you know, even without anyone answering, that this must be the commander.
“Commander, you have a visitor,” the man next to you announces, shaking your hand off his shoulder.
“I can see that,” his voice is vexed, displeased. His men flow by you, leaving only the two of you in the confined space. Face to face, you feel a mix of frustration and confusion while he walks toward you.
Hand tugging at the side of his vest as he nears you, he takes it off.
“You must be the officer, echo 3-6.”
“And you must be the jerk that disobeyed my order and killed my asset,” the words come out like a hiss, voice laced with venom.
With a whoa, his hands shoot up in a defensive gesture, eyebrows raised, “but you gave me good to go, officer,” the commander takes a tentative step towards you, “I can’t foresee the future.”
Standing before you, his gaze sparkles with a mischievous twinkle, only inflaming the boiling rage that churns within you.
“You should’ve double-checked before firing, commander,” you remark, a touch of poignancy in your voice.
Opening his mouth to answer, his radio abruptly interrupts, calling out his name. As he strides past you, he adds, “I’ll remember your sage advice for the next time, officer.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” he stops by the opening, hand gripping the loose rope on the side, “the name’s Phillip Graves, not the jerk.”
 02 ˚✧ ┊ The second time; he offers you a helping hand.
The tight bindings on your wrists sting, the beige material becoming stained with your blood as you squirm in the corner of the small, stuffy room. A moan escapes your lips while you try to find some reprieve from the uncomfortable position, only to be reminded of the dire situation you are in by the fresh wound on your leg opening up; more wet, sticky red substance turning the white camo pants into violet.
Foreign voices can be heard outside the room; malicious content behind the words. Ears perked for potential incoming, you attempt to stay alert; the soft light of the dark room and the throbbing pain in your leg makes it difficult to do so.
The sound of gunshots ricocheted through the building, reverberating off the walls; the voices behind the door go quiet for a split second. Air stills as tension fills the room. There’s a distant sound of a helicopter flying over your head. Someone starts throwing commands; three men to the rooftop, two to the north of the building and—
—the door is bashed open. Back pressed to the wall, your eyes follow a masked man, white camo matching yours. All you can see is his eyes; young, too young to be in this situation, the forest green projecting his worry; something isn’t going according to their plan.
Breath hitched, he strides toward you, handgun pointed right between your eyes. It feels like your heart is pounding so hard that it's going to burst right through your ribcage, his finger dancing dangerously close to the trigger.
“Who did you call,” he barks, accent thick, voice shaky, “tell me!”
“First you tell me who sold the weapons to your boss,” it’s a shot in the dark but there isn’t any other way now; you need to find out and this man—this boy might have the answer.
His hand isn’t steady, he’s hurried, impatient. Restive.
“I’m gonna die anyway, who does it matter if I die knowing or not,” you press further. Gunshots grow louder, closer. Multiple boots hit the hardwood. Ash and dust raise as men keep running around, shouting and shooting.
Eyes flickering between the soldier and the door, you keep pressing, urging him to answer. Both of you are aware of the fate awaiting you; just a matter of time and the right (and wrong) decision.
Through the smoggy air, a dark figure creeps into the room, the crimson beam slicing through the fumes with the precision of a sniper; a killer. Within a second, the no, stop makes it just to the tip of your tongue before a click is all that could be heard.
A warm, wet substance splatters over your cheeks. Clenching your eyes shut in revulsion, you let out a moan of displeasure. The soldier's body collapses to the floor with a heavy thud, his vacant eyes gazing up at you.
“Bleeding all by yourself, sweetheart,” the shadow nears you. Blue pools of larimar running over your sitting form before Graves crouches before you. His gloved fingers touch the tender skin around the open wound, examining the damage in the dim light.
“Seriously,” you hiss at him, “what’s with you and killing my intel? And don’t—”
A groan cuts you off as Graves presses a gauze against the oozing gash, applying more pressure than needed while wrapping a bandage around your thigh; the pain radiates through your body like a searing fire, teeth clenched and putting on a stone-cold face in front of the commander himself.
“—don’t call me sweetheart, Graves.”
“Well,” he finally looks up at you, tying the last knot of the bandage securely, “you didn’t tell me your name, and I gotta call y’ something.”
Standing up, his form looms over you, enveloping your figure in his shadow.
“Think you can walk?”
Your eyes burn into his as you raise your still-tied wrist, silently demanding him to free you.
A corner of his lips turns up, knife still tucked up in his vest as he says, “I think I prefer you tied up.”
“Not funny,” you remark but it gets him to bend down to your level again; the cold of the blade grazes over your irritated skin, gloved hand enclosing one of yours in his, steading your wrists. Few slices later, pain shoots up the whole length of your arms upon the freeing; soothing the wrists for a moment, Graves gets up and with a “Let’s go” walks toward the open door. It takes some willpower to stand up.
Once you steady yourself, just a simple step throws you off balance as you put your body weight onto the wounded leg. A hiss alerts Graves, who turns his head to look back at you. With an annoyed huff, he offers you a hand to help you get balanced again before throwing your arm around his shoulders.
His grip around your ribcage is firm but somewhat tender, fingers splayed over your side like a protective shield while he guides you to the door; the other hand grasping his weapon as he walks you out of the building.
03 ˚✧ ┊ The third time, he takes away your breath; quite literally.
Months of rehabilitation and a psychological evaluation later, you find yourself at a military compound. Shadow Company’s provisional base, covered in snow, in the middle of nowhere as the European winter fell upon all of you.
Simple intel mission, that’s your job; what makes it harder is the utter finesse skill of avoiding the commander by all means—so far successfully.
Since the last time you saw him, back when he killed your intel (again), managed to burn down a whole building just to get you out and almost pushed you out of a Shadow company’s helicopter while taking off (which you firmly believe was on purpose), you haven’t stopped hearing about him, especially from general Shepherd. It’s evident that he’s taken a liking to the company, to your dismay.
The hard mat underneath your bare feet squeaks with each slip, hard thuds and thumps spread through the room with each blow. The heat of the room is stifling, sweat dripping down your back, hands wrapped in tape to protect the knuckles.
Focusing on your breathing and the moves, letting the rhythm of your body drive you through the kata, every movement precise and each strike purposeful, you can feel the energy of the room around you and the strength of your own presence growing within.
With each repetition, you take down the imaginative opponent with more ease. A dull ache pulsating in your leg, the gush already healed but your subconsciousness still bringing it up.
Eyes close, focusing on each move, feeling every muscle in your body flex and contract, the silence is cut short by someone clearing their throat. With only the ceiling light above you being lit up, the intruder steps into the light only for you to huff in annoyance.
The man you’ve been successfully avoiding for days has finally found you.
His blonde hair is ruffled as if someone was running their fingers through it, cheeks tinted with a pinkish hue, Graves stops at the edge of the mat with raised eyebrows, lips tightly shut. Jacket open, the combat shirt outlines his dog tags, exposing the taut body hidden underneath; arms resting in his pockets, he takes a look around before his eyes land on you again.
“Most people spar during the day,” he notes, “and with a partner.”
Nearing where Graves stands, you glowered, “I don’t need a partner. I’m done anyway.”
Graves takes his hands out of the pockets, arm extended in front of your body like a tollgate, firm and unyielding. Looking at him, his eyes stern but form relaxed. It’s admittable that even at this moment, him being less than a foot away, he radiates an air of authority, his commander showing.
“I can show you a move,” he says, losing his arm back to his side, “one that’ll take your breath away,” he specifies.
A huff leaves your lips, “That’s childish.”
He sighs, hand running across his cheek as his eyes stay focused on you, “I’m serious. It might come in handy in combat for you.”
It takes a silent moment for you to think; to weigh whether to give in or not. Graves doesn’t show any signs of making fun of the situation as your eyes scan his face, eyes heavy-lidded, tired; but still, he offers to give you a piece of his knowledge—and even if your dislike to the commander outgrows your sense of authority, he still possesses more field experience than you and who are you not to take advantage of his offering.
When you accept the proposal, he nods in return; jacket and shoes off, the mat narrows as the man walks to stand in the middle of it, motioning you to stand before him. Face to face, he directs your body into the appropriate position.
“Pretend to kick me in my side,” he pats his ribcage, feet apart and ready to defend. The moment your leg is in the air, his hand grips the back of your thigh, just behind your knee, the other gripping your shoulder to firmly stop you in motion.
“When you push against here,” he squeezes the leg twice, “you squat down a little,” his body follows his words, “and the other hand goes for either the knee,” the hand on your shoulder leaves the moment he’s sure you can still stand and listen before gripping your other leg, still on the mat, “or the ankle, depending on the size of your opponent,” his cold fingers wrap around the exposed flesh of your ankle, “and you go back into the standing position, pulling your opponent’s body up and forward.”
This time, he doesn’t follow his words; instead lets go of your body, stepping back.
“Sometimes it’s better to not only pull but slam into the opponent as well, disrupt their center of gravity,” he adds, “it’ll send you both down but you’ll still have the upper hand.”
A mental image of his words replays in your head. Nodding along his words, you reposition yourself and motion for him to come closer, “I need to see it in full force.”
Looking at your leg, where the healed wound left its scar, Graves makes sure to understand your demand, “You want me to take you down?”
“I want you to throw me against the mat, yes,” you reassure him, “my leg’s all healed up or I wouldn’t be here, commander.”
Even with doubt painted on his unshaven face, he steps closer to position himself as well.
“I’ll probably hurt you if I do it.”
“Like you haven’t dreamt about that before,” you snark.
“My dreams tend to differ.”
His words send a jolt of electricity through you, resulting in a leg high up, aiming straight at Graves’ ribcage, the same place he patted before. It’d be an admirable attack if all this wasn’t prepared beforehand.
The commander does exactly as he described earlier; all you manage to do is yelp as his fingers sneak around your ankle. Strong pull forward, up, and back. The next thing you know, the heavy mat feels like an unforgiving surface beneath her.
Using enough force, the air pushes out of your lungs completely, throat closing when you try to take a breath as if a lump blocking the airways. Muscles tight, you sit up. Graves stands over you, starry eyes following your movement as you finally inhale, short and shallow but the air fills your lungs delightfully.
“Told you I’ll take your breath away.”
04 ˚✧ ┊ The fourth time; he saves your life.
The embassy is in flames; searing hot, ever exploding, and growing with every passing second. The sound of gunfire and shrieks of terror echo through the halls, smoke billowing out of the windows. Passing multiple bodies, your group moves in unison. Scouting each hall, each room and every single corner for the target—nowhere to be found.
Passing a windowed hall, glass shattered all over the marble floor, your eyes take in the outside scene, the utter chaos; crowds of people, shouting, crying, fighting. Praying. Their families might still be in this hellish building and as much as you wish to help, the diplomat remains the priority number one. You notice the familiar hooded figures of Shadows exiting multiple cars and heading towards another entrance, clearing other sections of the embassy as you work.
Reaching the end of the hall, all of your team stops next to the stairs as one of the soldiers clears the remaining room, returning to you with empty hands; nothing.
“Echo 3-6 to Watcher-1,” you turn on the mic when the last room is cleared, “target’s position unknown, moving the fifth floor. Over.”
“Negative,” the mechanic voice cuts through the static, “regroup with Shadow-1 and move back to the rendezvous. Over.”
The men around you remain still, their eyes fixed on you as you stand there resolutely, gaze trained on the top of the stairs; the flickering flames of the fire dancing like a sinister symphony. A heavy sense of dread clings to you, the crackling of the fire cutting through the momentary silence before you speak again, “What if the target is there?”
“Negative,” another refusal, “fifth floor’s completely taken over by the fire. Regroup and fall back. Over.”
“Roger that, over and out,” you nod to the group. Turning around, a step behind everyone, a sound pulls you back; silence follows before a distant Help! reaches your ears. It’s weak, merely audible but still enough confirmation that someone is still there.
Eyes on the group, none of them seem to notice you falling behind. Fingers tightening around the handle of your gun, a mere second passes before your body turns around on its own accord; one leg follows the other, and stairs pass by as heat envelopes you in its scourging warmth.
Flames kiss up your skin as you move through the remains of a hall, fire closing you in; stupid, stupid idea and stupid me. The heat is unbearable, each crackle sends shivers down your spine. Dread settles in your bones over the realization that this might be the way you go.
Another Help! throws your thought away. Stopping by the closed door, you bang your hand on them, eliciting a shout from the other side; no matter who’s there, you already know you’re gonna get that person out. Going through all this inferno, it’s the least you can do.
Bashing the door open with the butt of your gun, a figure rams straight into you, slamming your back against the burning wall for a second.
“Oh my god, thank you,” a man bellows straight into your face; the target. Before you notice what’s happening, he reaches towards you and snatches your mask from your face, holding it to his face to inhale.
“Wait,” you try to stop him but it’s too late, smoke and ash fill your lungs upon the unexpected moment. The radio on your neck crackles but nothing comes through. Frantically gasping for air, you focus on the mission; bring the target to the rendezvous, that’s your only way out of here—preferably still alive.
The air is thick with the smell of acrid smoke. Gasping frenziedly, hand wrapping around the target’s thick arm, you drag the diplomat towards the staircase. Heart racing, head becoming dizzy, it doesn’t help that the man slips through your weakening hold, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
“Fuck,” you curse; breathing shallowly, nausea and headache start to creep on you as you try to move the mass of a man on your own. Everything spins, the flames licking and nipping at your skin like fiery fingers, the heat of it all pressing down on you.
The smoke clogs your lungs, air deathly still; your consciousness gives up on you, darkness succumbing you to the all-consuming fire. Eyes watering, swallowing feels like drinking molten lava, the roaring flames devour all in their wake.
A sharp slap jolts your eyes open. A masked man hovers above you, the larimar blue shining through the mask; Graves.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” he hisses, tapping at your cheek harshly, “not dying on me today.” The blonde turns his head around. That’s when you notice other Shadows hovering around, two of them carrying the hopefully unconscious (and not dead) body of the target while Graves stays by your side; hand on your shoulder blade, he helps you sit up.
“Don’t kill this one or I’ll shoot you,” a guttural cough creeps up your throat as his gaze bores into you. Wrapping a piece of clothing around your lower face, a makeshift mask, his arm sneaks around your waist, effortlessly lifting you up to the point your feet don’t even touch the ground.
“What, he’s intel?” he remarks; one hand guiding your arm over his shoulders, his fingers securely wrapping over your wrist to keep your weight onto him while the other arm stays around your waist—basically carrying all your weight on his side, he adds, “if yes, might shoot him them.”
05 ˚✧ ┊ The fifth time; he kisses you.
Everything is going smoothly, too suently to your comfort, causing a shivering sense of unease creeps up slowly on your spine. The pungent smell of cigarettes and alcohol fills your nostrils, chatter surrounding your lonely form in a dull hum as you sip at the drink in your hand.
A group of men and women sit across the confined space, closer to the exit door than you, talking in hushed voices; the deal going according to the plan, except they don’t know about the closeness of sneaky ears encompassing this place.
Observing the ongoing deal, another man joins the group, whispering to one of the men; your eyes firmly on them, fingertips dancing on top of the full glass, you watch as—
—”Echo, your cover’s blown,” a static voice of a Shadow comes through the second two more men enter your peripheral vision, eyes scanning the area; for you.
“Roger that,” you whisper, earpiece barely picking up. Taking one last sip of the drink, feeling the cold liquid cool your burning throat, the chair squeaks as your feet touch the ground.
Before the men manage to look in the direction of the noise disruption, you slide into the shadows of the nearest hall; too bad the only exit was behind them. Now it’s time to come up with plan b. Swiftly moving along the building, you look out from the window, too high. No stairs. No escape route. No fight; instruction clear—don’t get caught, don’t cause a scene.
Heavy footsteps echo from behind you, enclosing you like a wild animal being cornered; slight panic starts settling in your abdomen. You’re a professional, pull it together. Pull. It. Together. Deep breath in, shallow breath out. Looking to your right, then to your left; first doors locked, second as well.
Footsteps growing heavier, closer, faster; deep breath in, sha—
—hand over your mouth.
A firm figure pulls you backward, calloused fingers wrapping over your mouth, digging into your cheek as he drags you into the third door. The smell of suede, the taste of leather, hot breath fanning over your earlobe as a quiet Shhh echoes in your ear; Graves.
The commander guides you into the guest closet; turning you around, you’re faced with the same wide, larimar oceans of eyes, finger over his tightly shut lips as his hand remains over your mouth. With a reassuring nod from your side, he drops it, looking at the open door, the sound of incoming footsteps filling the confusion and tension surging through your body.
“What’re you doing here?”
What are you doing on this mission? In this city?
“Graves,” you hiss, finger digging in the middle of his chest, feeling the metal of his dog tags beneath the fabric of the blue shirt that only enhances the color of his eyes.
“Check the second room, I’ll check the third,” a man’s voice orders. The third—the third, the third where you are currently stationed, hidden.
Graves’ jaw twitches, eyes fixated on the door; a shadow is cast over the light from the hallway. It feels as if time has stopped, and your breath hitches as the anticipation of being discovered takes hold of you. Heart pounding, breath bated—
Lips on yours; rough, wet. Needy. Hands enclosing your face, covering every inch of your head, fingertips diving into your hair. Graves’ body presses against yours, hips flushed together, a leg between yours. A whimper escapes your bruised lips as his tongue swipes along the lower one before biting, tugging at it, drawing a desperate, humiliating moan out of you.
A hum reverberates in his throat, tongue pushing inside you. It’s wet, sticky; messy. His tongue explores the depths of your mouth. He’s aggressive and impatient. Hunger seers through your touch-starved body, jolts of electricity awakening your desire. Bringing your leg up and around his hip, you push him into you, hips grinding into yours.
Groans, grunts, moans; a mess of two people, air filled with desperation.
Your brain goes completely blank, kiss drunk and empty. The heat of his flesh is searing through the material of his shirt; squeezing his bicep, you feel the muscle flex as he angles your head for better access.
He’s the first one to pull away, your lips following his for a split second before the realization hits you; breathless, confused, and way too eager, you shake your head. Eyes staring at his flushed face, the darkness of his pupils overtaking the blue oceans of his eyes like a stormy night, you can feel the raw tension between the two of you. Not good, not good at all.
Graves’ hands slide from your cheeks at the same time you put your hands on his chest, the tight muscle contracting, heart racing; and you push, leg falling from his hip.
“Why did you kiss me?” you hiss at him. The pink hue that decorates his nose and cheeks only adds to the allure of his pale skin; and if it was anyone but Graves, you'd be finding it hard not to reach out and brush your fingers gently against his flushed cheeks. You’d even say it looked slightly adorable (and immensely attractive).
“Why did you kiss me back?” he bites back gruffly. He takes a step back, his gaze shifting towards the door as if he's trying to make a run for it.
“Why did you use tongue?” Not letting him win this, you continue to press into him. He stands at your arm's length, fingers wrapping around your wrist that still rests against his chest, fiercely putting it away before he shoots you a smug look.
“Why did you moan?”
“Stop it,” pushing him one last time, Graves takes a step to the side, letting you go and head toward the door; the hallway clear.
01 ˚➶ ┊The time he surprises you; and it hurts.
The car ride is silent, a sense of relief settling inside you while you return to the Los Vaqueros’ base. That’s before your phone starts ringing, and Shepherd’s code name appears on the screen. From the peripheral view, you notice Graves shifting, the two shadows at the front seats sitting quietly.
The call is rather informational, Shepherd impatiently collects your report before you even arrive at the base to follow the proper procedure.
“What about the third missile, did you manage to locate it,” he asks, voice calm but concerned. Graves’ eyes meet yours, conveying a strange mix of fear and guilt.
With an exhale, you say, “no, sir, but I’m getting close to identifying the source.”
“Say again,” Shepherd’s voice turns stern.
“I have a meeting with an asset of mine, after that—”
“I did not give you the order to search for the source, officer,” he cuts you off, “give me Graves.”
The man next to you watches with confusion as you hand him your phone without much question. Eventually taking it, he talks with Shepherd for a brief moment; eyes flickering to you, you notice his rigid posture and hand lowering to the zip ties in his vest.
Something is off.
Hanging up the phone, Graves’ attention is now fully on you, freeing the zip ties from their restraints.
“I’ll need you to extend your arms, officer,” he commands formally. As the realization hits you, a chill of dread creeps up your spine. Everything after that happens in less than a minute; from reaching for the radio to inform Ghost and the others (who are currently obliviously riding the car behind you) to inform them of the situation to Graves’ fingers wrapping around your wrists, tugging forward. With your face a few inches from his, you kick up your leg, fighting not only the commander but the confined space of the back of the car.
The element of surprise and strength isn’t on your side as Graves takes out his handgun, one hand gripping both of your wrists.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” the bitter words grate through his clenched teeth.; taking his handgun out, the handle lands harshly against your temple, sending a dull pain throughout your body as he knocks you unconscious.
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A loud thud jolts you awake, shaking you from the depths of darkness. Eyes heavy, your head spinning and a throbbing ache radiating from the side of your face; a low groan escapes your chapped lips.
Heaving a groan, you muster all of your strength and spin to the side, outstretched arms seeking the door handle. With a click, the door opens. Pushing forward, the rain pelts your skin, eyes squinting to protect themselves from the onslaught.
As you stumble out, the hard thud of your body hitting the wet asphalt sends jolts of pain through you. The echoes of voices seem to linger in the air, blending with the night as it pours down. A dark figure slumps against the car - a shadow. Reaching for his pulse, you can feel the sickly warmth of the blood that’s already soaked through his mask.
That’s when you notice the man looming before you. Back facing your crawling form, hunched, gun ready to fire as he walks to the side of the car; Graves keeps talking, his voice taunting Ghost (who's nowhere to be seen).
You know what you have to do. Heart pounding, you slowly raise your hand to the shadow's thigh, groping for the handgun in the holster.
It takes you a moment to stable your stance and focus your gaze to aim at the back of Graves’ head, pouring rain blurring your vision but this moment, this second is all it takes for a nearby shadow to notice the imminent danger of his commander, to aim his weapon and pull the trigger.
Like a powerful force, a sharp impact sends you crashing to the ground with a pained groan erupting from your throat. The handgun clatters to the asphalt with a hollow click, Graves turns around sharply; eyes wide, finger on the trigger.
Lowering the gun, he walks over to your groaning figure. Calloused fingertips brush back the wet locks of hair from your face, he crouches down; the butt of his weapon resting over the oozing wound on your chest, face solemn, eyes dull and lethargic.
“Now that was a big fuckin’ mistake, sweetheart.”
BONUS ˚✧ ┊
The heat of Adal’s sun burns into your clothing, seeping through the thin layer of fabric and biting into the skin of your arms. Throat dry, licking your lips, you walk in Ghost’s footprints, the city of Al Mazrah behind you.
Snatching a bottle from Ghost’s backpack, the feeling of cool water running down your parched throat brings a wave of relief.
Reaching the cliff, Ghost stands a step before you, looking through his scope; handing it to you the moment he pinpoints the target’s position.
As you search the area with his instructions, your eyes fall upon the familiar face. Commander Ghorbrani stands surrounded by both Quds Forces and Russians, the ongoing deal going according to plan it seems.
Five words; that’s all it takes for you to get involved in taking the lives of dozens of men - “Visual on General Ghorbani confirmed.”
With Laswell’s last confirmation and Shepherd’s orders, you hand Ghost his weapon back. Securing the sunglasses on your face, you listen to the communication; crouched down, barely reaching Ghost’s mid-thigs as the lieutenant hovers above you, providing the much-desired shadow.
“Echo 3-6, Ghost, you are danger close to the zone,” Graves’ voice whispers into the earpiece, “this arrow’s gonna pack a punch.”
Veins thrumming with adrenaline, looking up at Ghost, an affirmative nod is sufficient enough for him to respond, “Copy. Approved.”
“Send it,” you state into the mic around your neck mic before holding onto the top of the body armor Ghost basically bullied you into wearing.
“All stations, Shadow-1. Missile is ready for immediate delivery, stand by for launch,” Graves continues talking as you hold the mic frequency open for possible communication.
Ghost straightens his back the moment Graves announced that the missile is loose, both of you mentally bracing for the impact as the Shadow commander continues informing about the missile’s actual coordinates.
The blinding light fills your vision as the missile strucks its target, the deafening roar of the impact overpowered by an immense shock wave; grains of sand stung your exposed cheeks like tiny droplets of glass; the sensation of the sharp needles nicking at your flesh rather awakening.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Ghost’ voice cuts through the sound of destruction. Both of you watch as pieces of metal and flesh fly in the air; a dance of death. A pungent, sweetish smell fills your nostrils as you get up to stand next to him again.
“Direct,” you confirm, “target destroyed.” As you watch the last remains falling to the ground, you add, “one would say it’s raining men.”
“Fuck sake, Echo, keep it professional,” Graves’ voice echo in your earpiece, a hint of amusement present in his tone. Ghost shoots you a look of disapproval.
Shrugging, arm extended to what was a meeting ground just seconds ago, you state, “What? It’s true.”
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nahoney22 · 10 months
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Holding On (Part 2/2)
Hunter X F!Reader
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Weeks after your rescue, things seem to be looking up for you. Though Hunters feelings remain the same, how can he express how he truly feels?
warnings: hurt/comfort trope, reader suffers from nightmares, panic attacks, mentions of needles and injections. Very emotional reader. Lots of comfort. Mutual pining. First kiss. Female reader.
Authors note: I completely forgot I was to do a part 2 to this. Sorry for the wait. Queued Post.
Part One | Part Two
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You awaken to the gentle hum of the ship, blinking away the sleep from your eyes. As your vision clears, you notice Echo sitting across the room, head slightly bowed, soft snores escaping his lips. A warm smile spreads across your face at the sight.
You speak softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. "Echo, hey." He stirs at the sound of your voice, lifting his head and meeting your gaze with a gentle smile.
"Hey," he responds, stepping closer to you. "How are you feeling today?"
It's a question you've grown accustomed to from the whole team, and despite the lingering challenges, you find yourself improving each day. "Good," you reply softly, sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed. "And how about you?"
Echo chuckles and shrugs, his eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and determination. "Same as usual." He retrieves a scanner, checking your vitals with practiced ease. "Listen, last night you had a nightmare."
You sigh, the memory of the unsettling dreams still lingering in your mind. "Yeah... they've been happening quite frequently."
Sympathy shines in Echo's eyes as he finishes the scan, confirming that everything appears fine. He takes a seat beside you. "Hunter was here and saw you tossing and turning. He asked me to stay until you woke up."
A pang of embarrassment tugs at your heart, realising that Hunter had witnessed your vulnerability even in your sleep. "I'm sorry he had to see that," you admit, cheeks flushing with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.
Echo's gaze softens as he nods in understanding. "Yeah, nightmares were a constant companion to me for a while. Still have them occasionally. It's... something we've all been through in one way or another."
You find solace in his words, knowing that you're not alone in this struggle. "I guess it's just part of the journey, huh? The memories and the pain find their way back, even when we try to move forward."
Echo's hand rests reassuringly on your shoulder. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed. Healing takes time, and it's different for everyone. But we're here for you, every step of the way."
A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, appreciating the support from Echo and the rest of the team. "Thank you, Echo. You've all been so kind to me."
He offers a warm smile in return. "Of course, we care about you. You're part of the squad, part of our family."
The word "family" resonates deeply within you, reminding you of the connection you shared with them all. Despite the hardships and the nightmares, you're grateful to have found a place where you belong. Finally.
"Morning. Can I get you a drink or anything?" You look up as you hear a voice from the hallway, and your heart flutters at the sight of Hunter approaching. Echo takes his cue and gives you a final pat on the shoulder before leaving just the two of you.
"I'm alright for now, thanks," you reply, grateful for his offer, and pat the spot beside you.
Smiling, Hunter takes a seat, his fingers strumming somewhat anxiously against his leg. He still hasn't addressed your confession of love from a while ago, uncertain of when the right time and day would be. With the nightmares plaguing your mind in recent weeks, he feels that bringing it up now would only add to the tension.
"Echo tells me you saw me have another nightmare," you speak up, sensing the sudden thickening of the air. "I understand why you didn't want to stay and watch."
Turning his head to look at you, Hunter's eyes shimmer with reassurance. "I didn't want to leave, I just... I know Echo is more familiar with dealing with this type of stuff, and I wasn't sure what to do. I should've stayed."
"I would've been fine either way, don't worry," you whisper, gently placing a hand on his forearm. A warmth flows between you both, and although you're unsure if he feels it too, he lets out a somewhat breathless exhale before clearing his throat.
"We, uh, we're going to be landing on Coruscant in a few hours. Maybe it'll do you some good to get out for a while?" Hunter suggests, but a sudden wave of panic washes over you.
Your eyes widen, and you instinctively shake your head. The memories of being captured and taken by the Empire on a busy planet flood your mind, leaving you feeling vulnerable and unsafe. The Marauder has become your sanctuary, a place of solace and security.
"N-no, no, I can't," you stammer, a wave of unease washing over you, making your skin prickle as if an itch you couldn't scratch.
Hunter's voice is calm and reassuring as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be alright. I'm right here with you," he says, his presence providing a sense of comfort. "You won't leave my sight. Crosshair will be with us too, on high alert, ready to spot anything suspicious." He tries his best to offer reassurance, but your body begins to tremble, and tears well up in your eyes.
"Not yet. Please... I'm not ready," you plead, your voice filled with fear and vulnerability.
"Okay," Hunter says softly, his touch comforting as he rubs soothing circles on your back. "You can stay on the ship then. I'll stay with you, and we can have one of the others stay too," he suggests, understanding your fear and offering a solution. You nod, quickly wiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks, trying to steady your panicked breathing.
“Sorry, it's just..." you trail off, finding it difficult to put your feelings into words. But Hunter understands, and he gently pulls you closer until you can rest your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provides a calming reassurance, especially as he tenderly runs his fingers through your hair. "Maybe another time,"
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There was no denying the nervousness that gripped you as the team landed on Coruscant, even though you chose to stay on the ship. Memories of that traumatic incident flooded your mind, causing your heart to race in your chest, despite being shielded by two of the bravest soldiers you knew.
You're in the cockpit, keeping a watchful gaze through the windshield when you hear hushed whispers coming from the hull. Your curiosity piqued, you turn your attention towards the source and see Hunter and Crosshair engaged in an intense conversation. However, when your eyes meet Hunter's, you notice that his smile, though meant to be reassuring, doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"What's going on?" you ask, voicing the question that lingers in your mind.
Crosshair turns his gaze to you, his expression as stern as ever, as he holds up a stim pack. "Tech's orders," he explains, his voice carrying a tight tone.
A sudden wave of nausea washes over you, triggering haunting images of the torment inflicted by the IS-O droid. Your mouth goes dry, and before you know it, Hunter is rushing to your side, his presence a comforting anchor. "It'll be over in a second," he assures you, his voice laced with concern.
Crosshair approaches cautiously, standing beside you and placing a calming hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, doll. I'm not as clumsy as Wrecker," he remarks, trying to infuse some levity into the situation. However, despite his attempt at humor, you can't find it in you to laugh.
Gently, Crosshair rolls up the sleeve to your arm and you do your best to hold your nerve and look away but your eyes deceive you and instantly fall to the right where the stim was being raised, needle pointy. The sight of it made you recoil and push the boys away from you.
“No, I’m not doing it.” You rasp, tears stinging your eyes once more. “I’m not ready.”
“Cyare, Tech says it’s imperative you take this stimulant.” Hunter explains, holding his hands up as if to ease a wild creature. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Hunter,” you whimper, shaking your head, “I-I can’t!”
Crosshair remains quiet, watching you closely but his eyes are soft at seeing you so anguished.
"Hey, shhh, hey, it's okay." Hunter's soothing voice brings a momentary calmness as he gently cups your cheeks, his touch grounding you. Your ragged breaths begin to steady as he draws closer.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the fear of the injection momentarily fades as Hunter presses his forehead against yours, cooing softly and caressing your skin with his thumbs. "That's it, you're okay," he murmurs, his presence offering a sense of security.
Your eyes flutter closed, unaware of Crosshair's approach as he seizes the opportunity to administer the injection while you're in this state of calm.
"Hunter," you rasp, feeling a gentle hold on your arm, the fear starting to creep back into your consciousness.
"Just focus on me. You're doing so well. So, so well," Hunter encourages, tilting his head slightly, his breath brushing against your lips. In this tender moment, you're overwhelmed with the urge to lean closer and kiss him. But instead, the truth spills from your lips in a burst of honesty.
"I love you."
There's a suspended pause in the air, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of his response. You couldn't help but reveal your true feelings. He meant everything to you.
"I love you most, darling," Hunter replies, his words filling your heart with warmth and relief.
When you open your eyes, you notice that Crosshair had discreetly stepped away, and there's a subtle sting in your arm. Huh, guess he was gentle handed.
Crosshair had left with a small smirk, leaving you feeling a mix of flustered and curious. "I... sorry, I don't know why I said that," you stumble over your words, trying to steady your breathing while your heart races with the weight of your admission.
Hunter hums, a knowing expression on his face that tells you he's not entirely convinced by your apology. "Is that why you've said it twice now?" he asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes searching yours.
Your eyes widen in surprise, your brows furrowing as you try to recall the first night you were rescued. "Twice?" you repeat, your mind racing to piece together the memories.
"Yeah," Hunter confirms softly, his hand moving from your cheek to your arm, soothing the sting from the stim. "A few nights after we rescued you, you were half asleep and it slipped out that you loved me." He holds his breath, hoping beyond hope that your feelings were genuine as he gathers the courage to ask, "Do you?"
You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Do you?" you ask in return, suddenly remembering that he had just declared his love for you. In front of Crosshair of all people.
"Of course. A lot," he replies, his words filled with sincerity and affection. The warmth that spreads through your chest reassures you that your feelings are reciprocated.
A gentle silence fills the air as the weight of your shared feelings hangs between you. In that moment, the galaxy seems to fade away. All the pain and suffering no longer seemed to matter.
Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, Hunter leans in, closing the remaining distance. His lips brush against yours, soft and tender, as if afraid to disturb the fragile beauty of the moment. “I’m going to look after you. I’m going to love you, forever.” He utters against you and you melt into his embrace.
Your heart is soaring with joy, knowing that he was going to be true to his word. It will still take a while to heal, but you knew Hunter would not mind healing with you.
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Part One | Part Two
Masterlist
More Hunter Works
Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @imalovernotahater @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness
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wordbunch · 11 months
Text
Elves comforting you
a/n: wifey @queenmeriadoc requested “how elves comfort you when you’re missing your family” and I tried my best to deliver! you know the drill - lemme know how you liked it, reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated and the ask box is open 😊💖 i’m excited/nervous bc it was my first time writing for most of these characters! 👀
INCLUDES: Galadriel, Arondir, Elrond, Celebrimbor, Gil-galad
(Elrond and Galadriel can count both as LOTR and TROP versions, ig?)
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GALADRIEL:
absolutely understands you because she was parted from many of her family members and close people
asks you whether you want to talk about something, you want advice or you just want her to distract you somehow
she will offer a shoulder to cry on if you need that
she will run her fingers through your hair
also she will pamper you the whole evening to try and chase the sadness away because she loves to take action as much as she can, especially when it comes to someone she loves deeply
she will bring you your favorite food or some magically calming herbal tea, run you a bath full of flowers and scented salts and all those fancy things
ARONDIR:
he is a great listener and you know you can open up to him about your sadness and nostalgia
you can see in his eyes that he is deeply empathetic
he will gently cradle your face in his hands and wipe away any tears that might appear
in order to cheer you up, he suggests a walk, because sunshine and fresh air always seem to work for him
the walk ends up being a hunt for the most beautiful flowers that he wants to pick for you
so gradually your tears turn to smiles and you end up walking back home together with a bunch of flowers in your arms and his strong arms around your shoulders
ELROND:
oh he completely understands how you feel and he literally tears up a bit when he sees that you’re sad
he will talk you through your feelings and try his best to advise you, but he knows that it can only help so much
his touch is feather light as he takes you to your quarters and he knows you well enough to know the best medicine for your sadness - a cuddle session
he will fiddle with your hair as you two talk, he will be the big spoon if you want him to, eventually he will pepper kisses onto any available area of your skin
if you drift away to sleep, he will still be there and hold you until you wake up, feeling a bit less sad
CELEBRIMBOR:
he doesn’t need to ask “is something wrong”, he can immediately ask “WHAT is wrong” because he can read you that well
he will definitely hold your hands and squeeze them in support while you’re spilling the contents of your heart out
if your family doesn’t live too far away, he will ask whether you want him to accompany you on a trip to them
if that isn’t an option for whatever reason, he is definitely taking you on a “trip” to the forge - he knows you like to watch him work so it will be a nice distraction to you
also maybe he will make you a little something special, suited just to your taste,  like a hair accessory, to cheer you up even more
either way he won’t give up until he makes you smile
GIL-GALAD:
while you’re alone and pondering your feelings, he sneaks up behind you and envelops you in a warm hug
he will inquire about your thoughts and emotions in a comforting low voice - he knows exactly how to get you talking
he will immediately suggests going to visit your family if possible
but until then, he will make sure to have your favorite food made for you
and he will dance with you to nonexistent music, maybe hum a tune
and spin you around the biggest hall until your laughter starts echoing around it
also soft kisses are a must
-
✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​ @entishramblings​​​​​ @thesolarangel​​​​​ @silversword7000​​​​​ @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog​​​​​ @averys-place​​​​​ @valkyriepirate​​​​​ @emmaarenstarr​​​​​ @noldorinpainter​​​​​ @asianbutnotjapanese​​​​​ @adamgetawaydriver​​​​​ @fenharel-enaste​​​​​ @ironmandeficiency​​​​​      @starryeyedrogue​ @dinofromspac3​
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ccbb2222 · 2 years
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You Know I Hate it When You Cry: Part 1. Rooster x Reader
Wellll here we are. I wrote an entire piece last week that got deleted and maybe it was for the best...here's take 2.
Bradley Bradshaw x Reader pairing
Summary: Something stirs in Rooster when he sees the new bartender holding back tears.
Warnings: *** This story contains Mentions of Abuse (physical, emotional, sexual)*** Please be advised this could be triggering. Angst, Eventual Smut, Protective and adorable Rooster.
18+ Minors DNI.
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"You don't get to just FUCKING walk away!" A voice yelled through your phone speaker as you sat in the parking lot of the Hard Deck. Tears brim your eyes as your hands shake uncontrollably.
"I- I know, I'm, I'm sorry," You try to stutter out before being cut off immediately.
"You think I don't know what you're up to?" A dark laugh echoes after his cutting words, "You escape back to Miramar, fuck some naval men and come crawling back? You fucking slut."
His words cut deep, and you feel a chill run through you at the malice behind them. "I need to go," You force out. "Don't call me again."
Quickly ending the call, you block the number before more texts can force their way through.
Something I see: the steering wheel. Something I feel: the rough denim of my jeans. Something I smell: my perfume on my wrist. Something I hear: the faded music from the Hard Deck.
Taking deep breaths, you slowly ground yourself back to the present. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs and open your car door. You could leave him in San Francisco in a cloud of dust, but he knew where you ran to. It was only a matter of time.
Breathing out a shaky exhale, you open the door to the bar and plaster on the best smile you can muster.
"Hey baby!" Penny greets you with a grin. She's standing behind the bar filling up a glass with the latest draft beer.
"Hi Pen," You greet, walking towards her and ducking under the bar, placing your purse in the bin beneath.
"Doing okay tonight?" She asks with a skeptical look. Penny always knows when something is wrong, but she never pried.
She welcomed you in, tear stained and bruised when you showed up unannounced at her home just over two weeks ago. You cried in her arms that evening: the loss of what was once a magical romance, the life you thought you built in San Francisco. And although Penny, a family friend for as long as you could remember, was there to hold you, you just wished for your mother. Your supportive, goofy, and loving mother whose life was cut short by an untreatable cancer.
So as Penny, the closest thing you had left, gave you that look, you couldn't help the tears that slowly started to line your eyes.
"I can't talk about it now, Penny," You say, wiping at your eyes, "I want to just get through tonight, if that's okay?"
She nods with a sad smile, "Whatever you gotta do, baby. I'm here when you need me."
Unbeknownst to you, a certain brown haired aviator took in this conversation from across the bar. Ever since you started working at the hard deck about a week ago, he couldn't help but keep tabs on you. You were gorgeous. A bit shy, a little timid, but always laughed at his jokes and were always a good sport about Hangman's relentless flirting.
Your very first shift he had introduced himself and the rest of the Dagger Crew, giving you the scoop on the regulars and taking the time to learn more about you. What he knew about you was...admittedly not a lot. While you were kind and offered smiles to him, he knew you were guarded.
"What's got you so upset?" He softly asks to himself, leaning against the pool table and blatantly ignoring Bob who attempted to rehash today's training to him.
"Rooster," Hangman calls from the dartboard not even looking in his direction, "Stop staring and go talk to her."
"I'm not staring at her." Bradley defends.
"Uh, yeah okay." Phoenix snorts into her beer. "Seriously Bradshaw, it's getting pathetic. Go talk to her."
He sends her a glare before pushing off the pool table and heading in your direction.
"Hey there," You hear a soft familiar voice greet you.
Placing down the glass you were drying you notice Rooster standing in front of you, a soft smile on his face. "Hey Bradley, what can I get you?"
"Oh, just another draft please," He says, then runs a nervous hand through his hair.
You nod and start to fill a glass for him, noticing his free hand drumming a pattern on the bar top.
"Are you, uh, doing okay?" He asks before he can stop himself.
The question catches you off guard, so much so that you forget to turn off the tap and Rooster's beer overflows in your hand. "Oh shit!" You say, quickly turning off the tap, dumping the now frothy beer, and starting over. "Sorry," You collect yourself, the embarrassment turning your cheeks pink, "I'm okay."
"It's just that I noticed you looked a little upset earlier," He tries to not sound like a creep, and man, if he could just stuff these words back into his mouth, then he'd do it in a heartbeat. "I'm sorry," Rooster backtracks, "It's none of my business." He puts his hands up and then places them back on the bar top. The drumming starts over as his fingers nervously tap a rhythm against the wood.
"Thank you for asking," You hand him his beer with a small smile, "That's really sweet. Just some boyfriend trouble is all." You explain.
Rooster's face falls. He didn't realize you were taken. He also didn't like the fact that someone out there was making you feel this way. It made his fists clench. "I'm sorry to hear that," he manages.
"Well," You place your hands on the bar and push your body back, reaching for the dishrag. "I guess more like ex boyfriend problems. I don't know anymore. And I won't bore you with the details."
His head snaps up at the muttering of "ex", and all he can think is, tell me all the details, darling.
A few more officers approach and you realize you need to cut your conversation with Bradley short. "I should uh," you motion to the group waiting to place drink orders.
"Oh right, of course." He nods, before quickly adding, "You working tomorrow night?"
You nod, and smile when you see his eyes light up.
"Great, well, I'll see you tomorrow night." He says, turning to walk back to the group of aviators who instantly make fun of him.
"Bradley Bradshaw, huh?" Penny says to you as you fill another beer.
"Shut up, Penny." You say with a laugh and an eye roll.
"All I'm saying is, you were in tears when you walked in, and one conversation with that guy has you smiling ear to ear." She says with a shrug and a wink.
"He's cute, I'll give him that," You let her gloat for a few seconds before you remind her of the painful reality. "He just has no idea what he would be signing up for."
Surely Bradley wouldn't want a girl who wakes up shaking and panicking in the middle of the night, an ex that somehow still contacts her even though she blocked his number time and time again, and ugly, tender bruises littering her abdomen.
He needed someone fun and carefree. He already had a stressful enough life as a fighter pilot.
So as he offered you a smile once again from across the bar, you give him a half smile back before avoiding him completely.
He was too good of a man, and you wouldn't take him down with you.
_______________________________________________
Soooooo thoughts? Part 2!
Throughout this, we'll see Reader struggling a lot with self esteem and not feeling good enough or worthy of love.
I'm really excited though for her and Bradley's relationship to grow. Lots of soft Rooster, protective Rooster, and sexy Rooster ahead.
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sturnioloshacker · 7 months
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torn pieces, mended hearts - a nick sturniolo short
a/n: nick & reader are best friends, nothing more; lowercase intended 
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after getting her heart shattered by her boyfriend who unexpectedly ended their relationship, y/n was left head in her hands as she tried to hold back the waterfall of tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. slowly dragging her shoes along the pavement, she arrives as the triplets’ house. she grabs her key to the house and unlocks the door. once inside, she heads straight to the safety of nick’s room, cocooned by soft candlelight. falling onto the silk pillows, her tears flowed freely, reflecting the sadness that consumed her soul. grief clung to her like an unwanted shadow, always looming, always nearby.
unbeknownst to y/n, her loyal best friend, nick, had heard of her heartbreak through the grapevine. nick was a gentle soul, an unwavering pillar of support in y/n’s life. immediately recognising the magnitude of her pain, he rushed to her side, his heart aching in unison with hers. as he entered his room, he found his best friend curled up on his bed, her face hidden in her hands. without hesitation, nick sat down beside her, his presence drawing her closer, emanating reassurance amidst the waves of despair.
y/n’s sobs echoed in the room, permeating the silence. nick reached for her trembling hands, gently unraveling them from her face. he gazed into her watery eyes, his own filled with compassion and understanding. “hey, y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice a soothing balm in the tempestuous sea of her emotions. “i’m so sorry for what you're going through. you're incredibly strong, and i know you'll get through this. i’m right here by your side."
his words, though simple, resonated deeply within y/n’s wounded heart. she leaned into the warmth of his embrace, finding solace in his unwavering support. nick didn't try to fix her heart; instead, he simply listened, offering his comforting presence as his best friend poured out her sorrows. as the night wore on, the two best friends held each other ever so tightly, reminiscing about better times, sharing laughter and memories that had once filled their hearts with joy. his words of wisdom and anecdotes of resilience enveloped her in a tender embrace, mending a part of what was broken.
in the passing hours, y/n’s tears began to ebb, giving way to a newfound strength. she looked into nick’s eyes, gratitude shining through the remnants of her sorrow. with a grateful smile, she whispered, “thank you, nick. you've been my anchor in this storm, reminding me that i can navigate through the darkest of nights." nick gently brushed a strand of hair behind y/n’s ear, his voice filled with genuine care. “i’ll always be here for you, no matter what. true friendship means standing by each other's side, lifting each other up through every triumph and struggle of life."
from that moment on, y/n knew that even though her heart still carried scars from a lost love, she would forever be fortified by the unwavering support of her extraordinary friend. together, they would conquer the storms that life hurled their way, knowing that their bond could withstand anything. and so, hand in hand, they stepped out into the world, ready to face a future brimming with hope, knowing that through heartache and healing, true friendship truly could embrace the beauty of every tear-stained chapter.
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thedemoninme141 · 9 months
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Blade Of Miquella Chapter 8: Let Woe Go Or Hold On.
Summary: Wednesday fears you might want to leave with your brother. Warnings: Emotionally Whipped Wednesday! ANGST! Previous Chapter 👉 HERE
As Weems entered the room and saw John, her nerves began to tighten. She felt the weight of her failure to protect you, and she didn't know how John would react or what decision he would make regarding her role in all of this. "Y/n told me a lot about you. There wasn't a single day that she didn't miss you. I kinda took the liberty to be her brother for the time being," Xavier said smiling, trying to break the tension that lingered in the room. "I know, I kept tabs through my resources. I must thank you for that," John replied, his voice carrying a genuine gratitude. "John… what I did… I am sorry," Weems finally spoke up, her words laced with remorse. "I also know why you did it," John responded, his tone empathetic. "Even though I would destroy the gold needle again if I had to, I know it was the only way to prevent Malenia from consuming Y/n," he sighed, "Where were you all this time?" Wednesday inquired, her curiosity and inquisitiveness ever-present. "Injured," John explained. "I almost died while trying to destroy the needle, going up against a dangerous cult called The Golden Order. They want to control the goddess of rott to unleash chaos upon the world. They are highly skilled in combat, and if it weren't for my team, I wouldn't have made it." "I thought you were in the army, yet you can work rogue outside your jurisdiction?" Wednesday raised another question. "The Ghosts don't have any jurisdiction," John revealed, disclosing a secret about his mysterious past. Wednesday's eyes widened in astonishment, realizing that the legends she had heard as a child about The Ghosts were, in fact, true. "Enough about me. So, I know about you, Xavier. Keeping tabs on you was easy. You, however," he turned to Wednesday, "getting much information about you without letting you know was hard." "I am Wednesday Addams," Wednesday admitted, standing her ground with unwavering confidence. However, admitting the next part was hard, even for her. "I am Y/n's…" she stopped as she couldn't find the right words. "I used to.. date your sister." John's reaction to this revelation was one of surprise. "Owh…" he uttered, absorbing this unexpected piece of information. He then smiled. "It's good to see she has people who care about her so much." He said. In the room filled with unspoken emotions, each of them carrying their own burdens and secrets, they knew that their love and concern for you were what brought them together. And they knew you were worth every effort, sacrifice, and vulnerability they could offer. "Anyway, I think it is highly against the rules for so many people to be in the patient's room." He said as he walked out, "Miss Weems, I would like to speak with you, in private." Principle Weems followed him, leaving Wednesday and Xavier standing by your side. "It doesn't look good at her," He said, "This look…" Wednesday nodded, but she knows you will be up on your feet with her in no time, and she will be with you for every step. She has planned every step of this torture called "Love", for you.
But when the next day Principle Weems informed Wednesday that John was planning to take you away and move to somewhere he believed was safe, her plans had to be "improvised". Determination fueled her actions as she found herself standing in front of the motel where he was staying, goal to change his mind. Three firm knocks on the door echoed through the room. John opened it, surprised to see Wednesday there. "Wednesday? What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes reflecting confusion and concern. "You can't take her away," Wednesday stated firmly, her voice unwavering. "What do you mean?" John furrowed his brows. "I know you're planning to move her away with you. But you can't. She needs all of us, not just you, not just me. She needs all the support she can get." All the love Wednesday can give you. John's expression softened, but he still held on to his resolve. "You know she can lose control at any moment, right? The curse inside her could manifest unexpectedly. I can't bear to see her get hurt again when it happens. Look where it got her last time. Besides, I have friends who can keep her safe, much safer than you did. No offence." He said. Wednesday took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I understand your concerns, but have you considered what she wants? Walking away from everything she has ever known might not be what she desires." John sighed, torn between his protective instincts and the love he had for you. "Wednesday, I will try to persuade her to come with me, and I believe she'll agree. But I promise you, if she chooses to stay, I won't force her. Her happiness and well-being matter more than anything else." As the weight of the situation settled on Wednesday's shoulders, she couldn't help but feel a knot of worry tighten in her chest. Would you choose to stay here with her, or would you decide to go with your brother? The uncertainty gnawed at her, knowing how much you loved your brother. Yet, the thought of losing you was almost unbearable for Wednesday. The memories of how she hurt you, making you cry, weighed heavily on her heart. She wished she could go back and change the past, erase the pain she caused you. The idea of not seeing you for even a day filled her with a sense of emptiness she had never experienced before. Wednesday couldn't deny the love she felt for you, and the desire to be by your side, protecting you and cherishing every moment together. But she also understood that her feelings alone couldn't dictate your decision. It had to be your choice. Wednesday's mind raced with thoughts and plans, determined to find a way to influence your decision and make you stay if you consider leaving with John. She knew her past plans had caused you pain, and she vowed that this time, her intentions would be solely driven by her love for you and her desire to see you happy and safe. She hated to admit that she needed help.
"Enid." "Wednesday!" The cheerful girl ran in, almost reaching out to hug her. Wednesday instinctively backed away, her guard up. "Back to 'Not a hugger' then? Got it." Enid smiled, "I must ask you some questions," Wednesday stated, her voice serious and focused. "Sure, go ahead. What do you need to know?" Enid responded, "You see, Y/n's brother is planning to take her with him, to keep her somewhere safe and isolated. He wants to discuss it with her when she wakes up, and I fear she might accept, especially after what I did…" Wednesday's voice trailed off, the weight of her past actions heavy on her conscience. Enid gave her a sympathetic look, understanding the remorse in Wednesday's eyes. It wasn't pity; it was the look of someone who cared deeply. Wednesday hated receiving that look. "I might be able to help, but it won't come without a cost," Enid said grinning. Wednesday sighed knowing what the blonde werewolf was going to ask her, "How many seconds?" Wednesday asked gritting her teeth. "10 should be good." Enid pulled Wednesday into a tight embrace, giving her a 10-second hug, it took Wednesday all willpower not to pull out her knife and end Enid's life. When the ten seconds were up, Enid released her, "The hug was good right?" Enid asked smiling, "Since I need your help, I'll reluctantly admit that the unnecessary physical connection wasn't completely unbearable," Wednesday retorted with a deadpan expression. Enid chuckled nervously, not taking offence. "Let's focus on the task at hand," Wednesday shifted the conversation back to the matter at heart. "What do you have in mind to help Y/n decide to stay?" "Make a speech dummy, You are a writer, pour your heart into it, be completely open and honest with her, show her how sorry you are and most importantly, give her a choice, tell her that even if she chooses to leave, you would support and love her then too which I am sure you would." Enid smiled. Wednesday raised an eyebrow, not expecting such straightforward advice from Enid. "A speech? Pour my heart out?" That sounds utterly ridiculous. "Hey, it might not be your style, but it could work. Just think about it. Y/n needs to know how you truly feel, and sometimes words are the best way to convey that." Enid said. Wednesday sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude towards Enid's persistence. "Fine, I'll consider it," "And hey, if all else fails, you still have your medieval weapons to fall back on." Enid grinned. Rolling her eyes, Wednesday couldn't help but let a faint smile tug at the corners of her lips. "Thanks for the reminder," she replied dryly. But then Enid's tone turned serious, and she asked the question that weighed heavily on Wednesday's mind. "Wednesday, if she chooses to leave, you wouldn't force her to stay or anything, right?" Wednesday let out another sigh, her emotions conflicting within her. "I want what's best for Y/n, even if it means… even if it means losing her," she admitted, her voice tinged with a touch of vulnerability. Enid nodded in understanding, her expression softening. "I know you do, Wednesday. And I believe Y/n knows that too. Whatever decision she makes, she'll see that you care for her deeply." Closing her eyes for a moment, Wednesday let herself be a little vulnerable in front of Enid. "It's just hard," she confessed, her guard coming down slightly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's like… she's become a part of me, and the thought of her leaving… it terrifies me." "What if she resents me for what I did? What if she never forgives me?" Wednesday asked. Enid shook her head gently. "Y/n's heart is softer than a marshmallow Wednesday, of course, she will forgive you, she will see how much you love her." You have to, for Wednesday's sake.
2 more days were spent. The activity in your brain was increasing, and it seemed like you might wake up from the coma anytime soon. So, Wednesday and Enid took it upon themselves to help your brother move your belongings to another room. Your previous room had been badly burned in Crackstone's attack, but thankfully, most of your belongings remained undamaged. That's how Wednesday found herself touching your Winged Helmet for the first time, and that's when it triggered a vision. In that vision, she saw Malenia and a revelation dawned upon her – how strikingly similar Malenia looked to you before her eyes were consumed by rott. It became apparent that she was your ancestor. She had bandages on her right arm, which was missing… recently cut. "Mother… Why… why me? Why did the gods choose me? Why do I have to bear this curse? You promised me you would find a cure," Malenia's voice trembled, holding back tears. "My sweet child, I am so sorry. I've tried, I tried reaching every edge of this world to find a cure for you… I've tried trying to find a cure in other worlds, but I found none. It isn't a curse, It isn't a disease. Malenia, it is you. The Goddess of Rott is you, and without it, you can't exist. Without you, it cannot exist." The voice of the woman speaking to Malenia was compassionate, yet firm, revealing her role as a guiding force. Though her face remained partially obscured by golden hair, there was an air of wisdom and ancient knowledge about her. "But you are a warrior, Malenia. You are to protect your brother Miquella, at all costs. Against everything, against the Golden Order, the black knife assassins who killed your half-brother Godwin. And from Radagon. Miquella is the most powerful of us all, but his powers haven't reached his threshold yet. You must protect him until then. Even without an arm, your skills know no bounds." The woman declared as she gently placed the winged helmet upon Malenia's head, and as it obscured her eyes, Wednesday understood that it symbolized the transformation she was about to undergo. Finally, she presented Malenia with a long curved sword attached to a prosthetic arm, both made of unalloyed gold. "From now on, You are The Blade Of Miquella,"
"Wednesday? Wednesday!" Enid shook her shoulder, bringing her back from the vision. "What happened?" John asked, concerned "She does this from time to time," Enid explained. "Huh?" Wednesday decided to keep the vision to herself, at least for the time being. She needed to talk to you about it first before sharing it with anyone else. The revelation was too important, too personal. "I'm fine," Wednesday finally replied to Enid, not wanting to worry them further. "It was just a vision. I'll tell you more later." Enid nodded, trusting Wednesday's judgment. She knew that her friend had a deep connection with you and she respected her friend's privacy. John still looked concerned but respected Wednesday's space. "Alright, if you're sure," The rest of that evening was busy moving your stuff, Your new room, now situated at another distant corner of the school for safety, was visible from Wednesday's balcony. As the sun set, casting a soft golden glow over the school grounds, Wednesday found herself standing on her balcony, peering at your new room. She longed for the day she can stalk you resting peacefully on your bed, but the uncertainty of her vision clouded her thoughts. She questioned herself repeatedly - was there truly no cure for you? And if she revealed her vision, would it shatter your hope of finding one? A whirlwind of emotions tugged at Wednesday's heartstrings. She cared deeply for you, and the idea of causing you pain was unbearable. The memory of her past mistakes haunted her, making her hesitant to share the harsh reality that she had witnessed in the vision. However, she couldn't dwell on her thoughts long enough because Enid burst into the room, almost breaking the door. "Principle Weems just called, Y/N just woke up!" PART 9 👉 HERE! [Was a crossover with my other fanfic "GHOSTS" needed? No Did it feel good to do? YES!!! - ♥♥♥Celine♥♥♥] [If you want to check my first fanfiction "GHOSTS", Here is the ao3 link 👉 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀]
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songbirdseung · 5 months
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see you soon / jeon jungkook
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"Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual, "there's something important I need to talk to you about."
Y/N sensed the seriousness in his tone and gave him an encouraging nod. "Of course, Kook. You can tell me anything."
Taking a deep breath, Jungkook looked into Y/N's eyes, trying to find the right words. "I've been meaning to tell you… I received my military draft notice."
Time seemed to freeze for Y/N as the words sank in. The mandatory military service was a part of life in South Korea, but the reality of it hitting close to home was a different experience.
"Oh, Kook," Y/N whispered, reaching across the table to hold his hand. "When do you have to go?"
Jungkook sighed, his gaze dropping to the tabletop. "I'll be enlisting in the month. I wanted to let you know as soon as I could."
The news hung in the air, a heavy cloud over their heads. Y/N squeezed Jungkook's hand, offering him a supportive smile. "We'll get through this together, Kook. I'll be right here waiting for you."
Jungkook's eyes softened, grateful for Y/N's understanding. "I know it won't be easy, but I wanted you to hear it from me. I'll do my best to stay in touch during my service."
--
As the days turned into weeks, Y/N and Jungkook spent as much time together as possible, cherishing every moment. They explored the city, revisited their favorite places, and created memories to hold onto during the separation that loomed ahead.
A Quiet Evening at the Han River
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city skyline as Y/N and Jungkook found themselves sitting on a blanket by the Han River. The sound of water gently lapping against the shore mixed with the distant hum of the city.
Jungkook reached into a bag he brought and pulled out a picnic. "I wanted to make tonight special," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Y/N's eyes sparkled with appreciation. They shared laughter and stories, the atmosphere filled with a bittersweet sense of urgency. Jungkook took Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers as they watched the city lights come to life.
"I'll miss this," Y/N admitted, resting their head on Jungkook's shoulder.
"I'll miss it too," Jungkook replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "But I promise, we'll have many more nights like this when I come back."
Navigating a Nostalgic Maze
As the days dwindled down, Y/N and Jungkook decided to revisit the place where they first met – a charming maze in a local park. Hand in hand, they wandered through the twists and turns, memories flooding back with each step.
"I remember being so lost that day," Jungkook chuckled, a reminiscent glint in his eyes.
"And then you found me," Y/N teased, a playful smile tugging at their lips.
Jungkook stopped in the center of the maze, facing Y/N. "Just like I found you then, I'll find my way back to you after my service."
They shared a tender kiss, savoring the familiarity of each other's presence, knowing that the maze of life would eventually lead them back to this very spot.
Capturing Moments in Photographs
In an attempt to freeze time, Y/N and Jungkook spent an afternoon taking photographs around the city. They captured candid moments, silly faces, and the small details that made their love story unique.
As they flipped through the pictures on the camera, Jungkook smiled. "These will be our memories to hold onto while I'm away."
Y/N nodded, holding the camera close to their heart. "And each photo will be a reminder of the love that's waiting for you when you return."
The click of the camera echoed through the air, immortalizing the love and laughter they shared in that fleeting moment, a tangible memento of the bond that would withstand the test of time and distance.
--
The day of Jungkook's departure arrived, and the air felt heavy with a mix of emotions. Y/N stood by his side at the military base, offering a brave smile. Jungkook hugged Y/N tightly, whispering promises and assurances in their ears.
"I'll be back before you know it," he said, his voice filled with determination.
Jungkook turned to Y/N, cupping their face gently. "Hey," he said, his voice soft but steady, "we knew this day would come."
Y/N nodded, tears shimmering in their eyes. "I just didn't think it would be this hard."
Jungkook wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. "I'll be back before you know it. We'll write letters, and I'll call whenever I can."
They stood there for a moment, just holding each other close, the world seemingly frozen around them. Then, with a deep breath, Jungkook reluctantly let go.
"I love you, Y/N," he said, his gaze locked with theirs.
"I love you too, Kook," Y/N replied, their voice breaking.
Jungkook stepped back, offering one last smile before turning to join the other soldiers. Y/N watched as he walked away, a lump forming in their throat. The distance between them grew, and with each step, the ache in Y/N's chest intensified.
As Jungkook reached the entrance of the base, he turned for one final glance. Their eyes met across the distance, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between them. Y/N raised a hand in a wavering farewell, and Jungkook reciprocated.
--
In the meantime, Y/N found solace in the memories of the days they spent together before his departure—the quiet evenings by the Han River, the nostalgic maze, and the captured moments in photographs. Those memories became a source of strength, a reminder that love could withstand the tests of time and distance.
And so, the story continued, a tale of enduring love, patience, and the unwavering belief that, no matter the distance, Y/N and Jungkook's hearts remained intertwined, bound by the promise of a reunion on the horizon.
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