realized I can make fanfiction of anyone I want even if there isn’t an audience but was disappointed when I realized i cant write john wick fanfiction bc my mother is now engaged to a man with the name john 💔
fuck i want to write scorched earth homelander fanfiction but i also want to write him sucking on someones tit as they give him the affection he needed as a child !!
simon ghost riley, obsessive!reader, angst, gn!reader
song rec- tightrope, xxxtentacion
cold, frozen hands. an empty slackjaw look on such a handsome face, a look that tears your heart into pieces. to say that love was a look that was once held would be an understatment- love was the only emotion his look wasnt devoid of. now the void has consumed all that used to lie there. it has eaten the womb of emotions, savoring love as if it is a delicasy.
you arent what he chose- no you never will be. youll always just be something that is, an object of permanency that refuses to leave its pedestal. you used to shine so brightly not only for him, but yourself, the gleamy metal of your trophy skin never dull. now your skin is filthy with fingerprints, ones that may never be removed.
simon rileys eyes stare through you, piercing through your throat to your eyes, a miserable interation that leaves you emptier than before you had met him. words move on his mouth- ones you must listen to. pay attention to his musings, for they are not just a jest, your life is ending now.
"im leavin' plum, ill'e find 'uh new piece-uf ass aft'r i come back".
he scoffs at the lack of response, pushing past your frame. a disgusting pit fills that empty stomach of yours. clear bile spills upon your mouth, swollowed down with a clenched jaw. he wants to leave after you have slaved away five years of your life? he may do so, but not for long, for your heart has been consumed fully.
empty eyes stare forward upon a blank wall, a foot falling one step outside the door of a broken home. one silenced shot directed at the head that constructed such awful words. a heavy thud as an empty headed body falls to a now cracked floor. one hard breath- then a scream. not too fake, well constructed. they all knew he had a past.
tw: angst, gore
fawning!konig, gn!reader, mutated!reader
a slick laugh, a wet one- from the blood or tears you do not know.
CRACK.
another rib gone as konig stares down at you, watching as the doctor takes apart your body as you breath. his eyes trail your intestines, watch your heart beat with a faint rythm. blood pools around your naked body as your lovers eyes flutter with disgust and guilt.
CRACK.
another one gone as he reaches his hand towards you, only to be shooed away by the doctor who had promised him so much in return for your mutated body. deer mutations arent that easy to find anymore, and venison is high in demand.
CRACK.
black slurs into your vision, fresh metalic tastes flood your mouth, eyes rolling back painfully.
gripping the flesh of your hip so hard that it leaves beautiful bruises. a constant reminder of a heated time that gets you hot and flustered over and over again !!
rough hands softly reaching over your skin as you wake up, eyes still puffy from sleep. a groan escapes you as you feel a hand grab your hip, back meeting their warm chest as youre slid back. safe is the only word you can use to describe how you feel, the pit in your stomach now a shallow hole. how many years have you waited for such a tender love? too many that is.
a soft kiss placed upon your shoulder, warm breath tickling your ear. its as if youre dreaming, an endless dream that spans the waking hours.
au but where your oc comes to life, but not just any oc- the one youve given the most trauma to.
they stand infront of you eyes wide and jaw slack, a mirror expression of your own. your oc isnt foolish, they know you are their creator, the point of their suffering. shock on their face turns to anger as their nose flares, shaking with a rage that outweighs even your own. warms tears drip down their face as they collapse onto the ground infront of you.
"how could you do this to me? what did i do to deserve this"?
their words turn to mumbles as they hyperventilate, while you stare at your creation, wondering how much worse you can make it for them.
for playing god isnt a hobby for you now, but a mission.
You and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley have been married for three years, together for five in total. A year ago you left 141, something you are thankful for. You needed to get out after a bad injury that left you in a coma for two months. The recovery from that took so long that you lost the drive for the job that you used to love so much.
Everything seemed perfect between the two of you, after getting past his cold, hard exterior of course. To be fair he worked more than anything, giving little time to actually fight with one another at the time. It was mostly you two fucking, specially that. You never made love, at least not by your standards.
Two months after you, he left the military, retiring to stay home with you, to be with you. Both of you agreed it would be best, for your relationship and for his health.
Things were perfect, they weren’t. Until the arguments started three months after he retired. It was little ones at first, him pushing you away in the moments you both needed one another, but later on they grew into fights that seemed to burn inside of you both. You couldn’t understand why he is doing it, pushing you away, being cold again, but he is.
↠
You stand in the middle of the living room, watching Simon walk through the front door after a night out drinking. He started to drink more, go out more, about a month ago, around three weeks after you got pregnant. Of course him going out to drink isn’t abnormal, but the amount he is consuming now makes your heart break. You hadn’t even had time to tell him the bad news because of his new habits.
“Did you have fun baby?”, you ask, coming over to greet him with a kiss, ignoring the anxiety pricking at your fingers. You knew you had to tell him soon, otherwise the guilt would eat you alive.
He brushes past you, not even taking off his mask after closing the door. In a way it seems he has become more of the Ghost you knew before, not the Simon you fell in love with.
“Simon-”, you start, an awful feeling sinking into your gut.
“Fuck off”, his british accent seeps through his slurred words, something you had fallen in love with long ago.
“Simon-”.
He turns to you, eyes flashing in anger.
“I said- Fuck. Off”.
You feel your nose flair a bit in anger, heat rising into your chest. Even now, when you are trying to just be his wife, he is pulling away. Not even a simple ‘hello!’, ‘I love you’, ‘I’m tired and going to bed’. Not even a simple kiss.
“Why are you doing this”?
“Doin’ what Y/N”?
Ghost’s eyes don’t leave yours as he takes a step closer, his mask making him even more intimidating, reminding you of the day you first got to the base. The day he kicked your ass for being a newbie, in the ring of course, but shit was that awful nothing less.
“Pulling away”.
“I’m not”, his response is short and blunt, but an obvious lie.
Your hand goes to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. For half a year you both went to therapy to learn how to communicate more, be more ‘in tune’ with your feelings. Not hiding things and learning how to not pull away were the things you worked on the most.
Even then, you have only seen him cry once, when you two finally married. Otherwise, he doesn’t cry, steeling himself when he starts to even tear up.
“Stop lying, love. Tell me what’s going on with you. I just want to help! You have been drinking every single night for the past month…Frankly it’s concerning”.
Ghost scoffs, taking another step closer to you, sticking a finger to your chest. The pressure of his finger immediately forces your anxiety to the surface, your breathing speeding up. You can smell the alcohol on him, strong and sour.
“You want to know what’s going on? You really do? I left my fucking job for YOU! I left my entire life behind to be with a woman who sits here and complains all day that I drink. Too fucking bad for you luv, you knew who I was when you married me”, he spits out, pulling his hand back.
Heat rises into your chest as you step back, your breathing becoming erratic. He has never once spoken to you like this since you got together, always making sure to try and not yell or scream. Even in the arguments you had before, you both rarely raised your voice even close to a yell.
This isn’t Simon.
This is Ghost.
“What the fuck Ghost”.
“Oh? Look at you being fuckin’ childish”.
“You know what, I really don’t like you”. You catch yourself before you say you hate him, you don’t, but you’re tired of this.
Before you two started arguing, your life was good, but then you retired and started arguing more. Then the baby, dragging you two apart like a divine force.
Ghost laughs, a manic laugh, dragging his mask off his face. You study his features, the scars lining his face, the blueness of his eyes. He’s still him, just not him.
His jaw clenches as he throws his mask onto the ground, running a hand through his hair.
“If you don’t like me, why the fuck did you marry me”, his voice raises to a complete yell, making you take another step back, “You are fucking nothing! Nothing at all. You aren’t even worth the energy to yell at! If you really don’t like me, why are you carrying my kid huh”?
He pauses, looking down at your stomach, another laugh escaping his lips.
“I wish you had fuckin’ killed that thing. I fucking wish you had, I pray to God it isn’t like you. I wish I never met you”.
He's never said anything like this before, never once raised his voice, or even said anything mildly hateful outside of work.
A lump fills your throat as the weight of his words sink in. You want to cry, to scream, to throw a fit like a child, but you won’t. Every part of you is screaming to run away, to hide and never come back. You had your time to grieve this all, to cry, and now you just feel empty. Nothing really matters in this moment, every spark of hope that laid in your heart is now gone.
Years spent with a man who wishes death upon your child as if it was nothing. Years spent loving someone who truly has no heart.
Without another word you turn and walk towards the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet. The clear liquid caresses the glass as it sloshes around as you open the bottle.
No seconds are wasted before the bottle is on your lips, the burn of alcohol assaulting your throat. Two shots worth is all you can muster, dropping the bottle to your side as you clench your jaw. A waste, the time with him has been a waste.
“Y/N- What the fuck are you doing”, Ghost practically screams out, rushing into the kitchen as you drop your arm. You watch as his hand rips the vodka out of your hand, panic and anger lacing his features.
How sweet innocence is.
“You know, you got your wish, Ghost”, your voice cracks as you tilt your head back, ugly sobs threatening to spill out, “I miscarried, but you were at the bar until the morning and wouldn’t talk to me. It was two weeks ago. Happy now? You got what you wanted”.
The emotion is overwhelming as you speak, eyes studying Ghost’s face as he sets the bottle down with a heavy thud. He looks awfully tired, realization nestling itself deep inside of him.
“You’re… our baby…it’s…”.
“Gone, just like you wanted”, you whisper, arms going around your stomach. Tears finally prick at your eyes as you see his expression turn from anger to fear, sadness, and guilt.
Instead of waiting for him to respond, you snag the bottle off of the counter and head up to your room, ignoring the sound of his boots hitting the ground behind you. He calls out for you, words being slurred by the alcohol and the pain ripping at his heart.
You didn’t even tell him how it happened, that the doctor said that you were too stressed so your body couldn’t handle it. You had spent too much time worrying over Ghost that your health had slowly declined.
His footsteps stop, and so does his voice, as sobs rack at your body. Sliding against the wall outside your door, you hug the bottle to your chest, knowing that you don’t really want to drink, you just want to get rid of the pain in your heart.
You’re crying so hard that you don’t even notice Ghost coming to stand in front you. He squats, grabbing the bottle out of your arms and placing it on the ground. His arms slide under you, picking you up gently. You can feel his shallow breaths as he picks you up, his heartbeat thudding in rhythm with yours.
Shaking hands grip his shirt as he brings you into your room, laying you down onto your side of the bed. You turn to the side, facing away from him in fear. Ghost doesn’t move, the sound of him out of breath mixing in with the buzzing of the fan.
It’s almost as if your tears have run dry now, your eyes forced wide by the realization that your baby is gone and the father of the child hates you. You don’t understand what you did wrong, what could have prompted the universe to do this to you- but you wish you never did.
Questions swirl around into your head until they finally form into a list. You can’t help but ask, you have to know so that you have clarity.
“Why do you hate me?”, you can’t help but feel like a little kid as you ask, curling up to be small.
You can hear the dam inside of Ghost break as he starts to cry, an ugly cry that tears you apart inside. As much as he’s hurt you, you still love him deeply. Tears prick at your eyes again as he sits on the edge of the bed, the weight of the dip causing your backs to touch.
“I don’t hate you”, he pauses, catching his breath so he can stop crying, “Fuck- I love you Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s just…”.
Turning to him, you lay your body against him, hands gripping at his shirt for comfort. The feeling of him turning back to look at you makes you want to cry even more. You can’t be sure if his words are true or not, you don’t know who he is right now or why he’s doing what he is.
“Just?”, you ask apprehensively.
A grunt of frustration fills him as he turns on the bed, moving you so that your head is on his lap. You should push him away, drag yourself away from him. But you can’t. He’s your husband, the love of your life. He hasn’t treated you this bad until now.
His hand softly plays with your hair as he speaks, the other hand grabbing his phone out of his pocket.
“I got told you were cheating, I never actually got to confirm it myself but I was watching for signs”, he hands the phone to you after pulling up the chat thread, “As time dragged on, I got nervous and started to drink more. Then you got pregnant and…I didn’t know if it was actually mine or not”!
He pauses to look down at your face, searching it as you read the chat in horror. An old friend of you both, not Soap thankfully, had messaged him extremely fake screenshots of you cheating on Ghost. You could see why Ghost believed them, but also why he doubted them.
“I never cheated on you”.
Your voice is a whisper as you hand his phone back to him, understanding and disappointment mixing inside of your empty womb. Your hands go to cover your stomach.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did, I should have brought this up in therapy”, he says in bitter disappointment.
You grunt in response, not wanting to cry if you speak.
“I should have just asked”.
“No shit captain obvious”, you snap, warm tears spilling from your eyes as he pulls you closer to his chest.
“Y/N”, the sound of your name on his lips sends aches through your heart.
“Ghost don’t”.
He tenses under you as you call him that.
“Please call me Simon ‘luv”, he whispers back.
“Simon-”, your voice breaks as you start to cry again, your arms wrapping around him as tight as you can.
“I’m…I’m sorry”.
Shock is the only emotion you feel as you pull away from him slightly, eyeing him with confusion, completely ignoring the tears streaming down your face. Never once has he apologized for anything, only occasionally admitting he was wrong or giving a grunt in response. It isn’t like he’s needed to say it before the arguments started, but it feels good to hear now.
Simon's eyes are bloodshot as they look down at you, the feeling of his heart beating widely fast giving away how anxious he is. His skin is splotchy from crying, endless tears still threatening to fall. You’re sure you look the same as him, hair a mess and snot running down your face.
You’re angry at him for sure, but he’s yours, through sickness and health he is yours.
His blue eyes dart down to your stomach, horror filling his face.
“It’s because of me isn’t it”.
“The stress”.
“So yes because of me, tell me the truth”.
Your silence is the only response he needs, your eyes looking away as you lean back against him. Is it truly his fault? No, but there isn’t anything you can do to tell him otherwise. You blame yourself after all, but there is nothing you could have done, and nothing you can do.
His cries break the silence as he curls his giant body around you, salty tears staining both of your faces as you cry with him. Simon's pain almost seems to bleed into yours as you yell, scream, and hold one another. Grief weighs heavy on you both, a disgusting thought of losing one another to death as well turning your stomachs.
“I- I killed our baby. Oh my god Y/N I’m so fucking sorry”, his voice cracks as he cries, pausing inbetween words to catch his breath. The love of your life shakes underneath you as he allows himself to open up to grief with you.
“‘Luv- our baby- and what I said”.
Coldness sinks into you as you feel his arms leave your body. Curious eyes open to Simon with his head in his hands, his breathing speeding up so fast you’re scared he might pass out.
“Simon”, you grip his wrists, pulling his hands towards you.
“Please don’t leave”, his voice is gravely as he lets you pull his hands away, placing them on your face instead of his. “Please ‘luv, you can’t leave me. I’ll do whatever you need”.
A somber smile overtakes your face as you lean into his touch.
“Let’s just get through this, okay”?
A nod is all you get in response, his icy blue eyes trained in your face. He’s studying you, watching for how you feel. It feels nice, for him to be concerned about you.
“I need to take better care of you”, the slurring is completely gone from his voice now as he speaks. His words stir old emotions up in you, the hot spark of love you felt warming back up.
After taking a deep breath he kisses you on the forehead softly, seeming reluctant to lean back.
“Let’s run you a bath and make some tea then go to bed, we can talk in the morning”, he mumbles against your hair, kissing your forehead once again.
You nod in response to him, only wanting to feel warmth and comfort in this moment. You’re thankful that things turned out this well, even if there is so much to sort out now.
Placing a soft kiss against his lips, you get up, ready to start anew with him.
It’s been a year and a half since you started working for Task Force 141, something you genuinely enjoy even if you have to deal with dumbasses. You don’t go on missions, mostly staying behind to help work on equipment and log paperwork. About two months after joining you start to gain a crush on your boss, Horangi. He cares about you, genuinely, teaching you about everything that you might need to know and more.
Your boss is older than you by a good bit, but it isn’t like you care much about how much older they are- or their gender- everyone is game for you. From time and time again you have sought out people older than you, sending you into a spiraling pit of insanity when they don’t want to commit and just want to use you.
It isn’t much of a surprise when you end up with older men that take advantage of you though, it’s almost like you're seeking out your father in each of them.
But this time you swear it’ll be different, you won’t put everything into this little crush- you won’t give him everything like you have before.
Horangi himself hasn’t shown you much of who he is, or how he feels, giving you soft looks while keeping you an arms length away. Although it’s nice to not be used, you would like to at least know how your boss feels towards you. If he doesn’t have any emotion towards you, then that would mean this entire time of yearning for him and attempting to get his attention would just be worthless.
Today is the day, you have to know, you have to ask.
Your feet fall flat on the ground as you walk, dragging behind you in an attempt to stop you from potentially ruining your current work environment. People passing attempt to say hi and stop for conversation, but as soon as they do you pick up your feet, saying you have an urgent matter to attend. The ones who know you slightly well give you a knowing look, concern but pride on their face as they see the way that you are headed.
As soon as you make it to his door you freeze, panic shooting down your spine and hands. Saliva fills your mouth and you swallow, slightly choking as the door opens in front of you. Panic attacks your nerves as you look at your boss.
“Y/N”?
His voice is deep and gravely as he speaks to you, his sunglasses perched at the end of his nose so that he can look down and at you. His mask sits below his chin, his mouth in full view. You see a slight smirk form on his lips as he watches you.
“Sir”, you squeak out, shuffling from foot to foot, not sure what you should say.
“Did you need something or is this just a visit to chat?”, he tilts his head as he asks, stepping aside to allow you to come in.
Stepping into his office you allow your body to relax some, turning towards your boss as he closes the door softly behind him. A good chunk of your fears melt away as you watch him slip his sunglasses off, his eyes meeting yours in concern. It feels as if the world stops turning in that moment, your confidence skyrockets as you spill out the question.
“Sir, I would like to know how you feel towards me”.
A deep breath is taken after you speak, your legs shaking a bit as you step backwards into his desk, almost as if to try and find a way to run away. Logically though, there is nowhere to run, he is blocking your only escape and not on purpose.
“What do you mean?”, he starts, walking towards his desk slowly, “You’re a great soldier Y/N, one of the best ones I’ve ever had. Although you don’t typically practice combat, I would choose you to be by my side over most”.
He gets a bit closer, tilting his head back as if to think before stepping closer again.
“I adore your work ethic and how you can handle interpersonal communication. I also like that you look up to your supervisor and don’t let us down even if the task is hard or almost impossible. Actually, I take back what I said, I would choose you to be by my side over anyone else, I know you’d be there even if it meant death. You’re dedicated Y/N, more than anyone else”.
Warmth spreads in your stomach, the response not being what you need, but giving you some hope for the actual response. You also notice that his voice is softer than usual, his gaze lingering on your eyes and mouth instead of past you or your eyes.
Before you can even ask him to expand further on his emotions, he stops next to you, looking towards you with a gentle expression on his face. The heat coming from his body is enough to make you melt there on the spot, your muscles twitching with a need to be touched by him- to be held by him and comforted, carefully looked after.
Horangi chuckles deeply, his shoulder pressing into yours as he leans in a bit. Your knees buckle a bit, eyes fluttering as your stomach flips.
“Or are you asking if I like you in other ways dear”.
The man's voice is a low and gentle growl as he asks, mouth curled up into a sweet smile as his eyes explore every part of you that he can see. As he goes to step away, your hands reach out, gripping his arm like a child who doesn’t want their parents to leave.
“Yes”, fear laces your voice as you respond, jaw clenching as you pull yourself closer to him.
Your boss lifts a hand and softly runs the back of it down your face, you instantly lean into the feeling, a soft groan leaving your throat.
“Yes what dear?”, the question almost feels like a command as he speaks, his hand pausing only the slightest against you.
“Yes I want to know if you like me in other ways sir”.
“Oh you sweet thing”, he mumbles out, pulling his arm away only to wrap both around you in a protective gesture, “aren’t you just adorable”.
Warm tears fall silently down your face as you learn against him, gripping his shirt until your knuckles turn white. You don’t understand why he has started to be so affectionate, or if this is his answer to your question, but you aren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. Relaxation fills you as he rubs your back in small circles, turning you both so that he can lean against the desk and hold you.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me with this”, he starts, pulling you away so that he can grip your chin and tilt your head, “Ever since your first day I’ve been drawn to you and your enchanting energy. I wanted you to take your time but didn’t realize it would take this long”.
Humming, you feel your eyes well up with even more tears, hands pulling him towards you in desperation. That should be enough confirmation for you, but you can’t help but ask to make sure.
“So you do like me”?
A hearty laugh leaves him as he kisses the tip of your nose, resting his forehead against yours. Breathing in his scent, you feel at peace.
“Yes of course I do Y/N, and since that is out of the way…I’ve been wanting to take care of you for quite some time and hope that you let me”.
You tense, pulling back a bit in fear of what taking care of you entails, although you’d give him anything just to make him want you. You’re weak, you know, telling yourself that you wouldn’t give him everything only to be ready to give him anything he wants.
“What do you-”.
“I want to comfort you, help you shower, make you meals…I want to take care of you in the way you don’t take care of yourself my sweet thing”.
A smile forms in an instant on your face, excitement building up in every inch of you. This is what you’ve been yearning for, for him to take care of you, to want you, to hold you. Giggles fall from your mouth as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his eyes shining in excitement and care.
Horangi’s phone ringing draws both of your attention from one another and to his phone. A grunt leaves his throat as he grabs his phone, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before answering the phone. After listening for a moment, he tells whomever to give him ten minutes and he will be ready. Your doubt stirs in that short amount of time, knowing that he might want more than to just take care of you.
Disappointment fills your chest as you realize that you both have to get back to work, or at least he does, this being your day off unless special circumstances arise. Negative emotions swirl around the positive ones, making you feel sick.
Letting out a defeated sigh, Horangi tilts his head at you, running a hand on the back of your neck. As soon as he makes contact with you, the haunting emotions seem to dissipate instantly.
“I have to work, but I would like to spend some time with you now that I can express myself with you, and you with me”.
Nodding, you lean back into his hand, grateful that you toughened up and came here today. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be able to experience this at all. The feeling of him against you is more comforting than anything you’ve felt before, an intense infatuation blooming further in your chest.
“I’ll call you to my office later if you’d like, or my room, whatever makes you more comfortable”.
You nod again, “Either works for me sir”.
Chuckling, he places another kiss on your forehead and pushes you both from the desk, putting his sunglasses back on. Slight disappointment lines his face before he lifts his mask, as if he wants to stay here with you instead of working.
“I’ll see you soon dear”.
“Yes sir”.
Chuckling, he grips your face a final time, lifting his sunglasses so you can see his face. You listen to him as you see his eyes crinkle as he smiles, a stern and serious look filling them.
“Do you want to call me sir”?
“I don’t know-”.
“Call me whatever you want when it’s just us okay”?
“Okay”, you whisper, watching the shine of his eyes disappear behind his shades.
↠
Time stretches into oblivion as you wait for Horangi to call you to him, it is now 2100, not too late but getting late enough to make you worried. Fear of what all he could want fills you, a deep need to just be cared for clouded by the knowingness of what most men want from you. Before you can think further, a knock on your door draws your attention away.
You stand, thankful you haven't changed out of your sweats and tanktop yet. Cracking the door, you see Horangi standing there, head tilted slightly as he lets out a breath of relief. The word “surprised” doesn't do your emotions justice as you gaze at your boss.
“I’m glad you’re in your room, felt like messaging you to meet me was too informal”, he sheepishly says, tilting his shades down at you.
Shock fills you as you realize he is standing in front of your door where any other soldier can see. Hurriedly you rush inside, grabbing your phone and keys and slipping on your slides.
“Sir you know people are going to start rumors”, you groan out as you come back to the door that had been propped open even further by him.
“And”?
The lack of care from him sends a shot of happiness through your body, a smile forming on your face as you start to follow him away from your room. Although you can’t help but doubt his gentleness for you, knowing he will want something from you in return for being so nice. Either way, you’ll be happy for the attention.
After a short while you find yourself in his room already, sitting on his couch as he makes you two tea. He had told you to find something for you two to watch or to put on the background as you talked. Horangi had also offered you food and tea, you taking the tea because it’s the safest option.
You haven’t been able to find something to watch, too distracted on what else he might want from you to choose anything. It isn’t like the movie really matters anyway if he isn’t interested in actually doing as he says. Not knowing for sure is creating too much discourse in your mind, your decision being that he doesn’t truly want you.
“Have you found something yet?”, Horangi asks softly as he comes to stand next to you, placing both mugs of tea on the coffee table. You watch as the steam rises, deciding that it’s better to test it and know.
“No but- well”, you hum, putting the remote on the table as you lean your head forward and tilt it up, hands finding Horangi’s belt.
He grunts, instantly grabbing your hands rather roughly to stop them. The man's brows furrow in confusion, softly letting up on your wrists but still keeping them away from his belt. Although the gentleness hasn’t left his gaze, he is still looking at you with the same care as before.
“What are you doing”?
“I just thought that you’d want something for being so kind…”, you trail off, realizing that you might actually be wrong.
“I want you and to take care of you, if that’s something you want then I will give, but if you’re doing this to please me then don’t do it. Taking care of you will please me the same if not more”.
Embarrassment fills you as your face catches fire, looking away as Horangi releases your arms and sits next to you. You mumble a sorry without looking up, not sure what to do. A soft chuckle leaves him, as if he isn’t upset with you at all for assuming.
“It’s okay sweetie, it really is, I’m here to take care of you okay”?
Swallowing, you nod and turn your head up at him, a soft kiss being placed on your nose as you do.
“Now, let's choose a movie, hm?”, he says, pulling you gently against him, enveloping you in bliss and warmth.
You’re grateful for him, for this, never wanting to leave his arms from this moment going forward.
turnnoffyourmind
gummygunk
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