Desperate For True Love🖤

♠️🥀♠️

[violentlovesuccess]

Been thinking heavy of a psychic!reader and Nikto.

You grew up normal, your concerns boiled down to grades and the boy and girls you liked, but once you hit eighteen, that changed. 

You always had an affinity for the spiritual, feeling things around you that you cannot see, but after becoming an adult, you began to realize all that is around you that the others can’t perceive. Your dreams became cryptic- scary even. Each night, when your conscious mind is gone, do you see the monsters and angels that reside over everyone. At first, you truly believed they were just nightmares, something your mind conjures up to deal with your past trauma. 

Then, you see them when you’re awake.

A constant torture, a mental battle between you and the things you cannot see.

It all came to a head when Nikto walked into base. You were strong by now, your mental fortitude beyond anything anyone has ever seen. The U.S government needs you on their side, manipulating politicians and other world governments to suit their needs. Sent along the world without care for your stability, you find yourself in Germany. Your Colonel is a big mountain of a man, and he explains how other PMC’s will be brought to the base. 

Spetznaz is another private militia that was hired to work alongside you and Kortac, their soldiers much more brutal and rugged than you’re used to. A fact that wouldn’t bother you- and it doesn’t- but what does.. Is the silent man that walks through the front gates.

Your knees almost give out, and you stand there for longer than what is normal. This man, one adjourned in black and secrecy, is a man you’ve seen before. 

It was years ago, when you saw him for the first time. At that time- he was broken, more so than he is now. His face was bloodied beyond recognition, the skin on his body flayed and battered, the look in his eyes were cavant- scared. 

You stood before him at that time, eyes and body rigid as you looked at the zombie.. He looked dead- the only evidence of him being alive were the short, shallow breaths he forces himself to take. His eyes were coated in blood, and only on past reflection do you register that he was looking at you. 

Young and scared, you do what you believe is right- you try and loosen his restraints, tugging and pulling on the chains that keep him in place, only for your efforts to be futile. 

You’re not there, not really. 

Crouching in front of him, tears run down your face. The image of a man skinned and tortured lives freely in your mind. 

You convince yourself it was a dream, that the blood and gore was a manifestation of your psyche. The man isn’t real. His pain isn’t real. 

Until you see him.

His face is covered, his body adorned with black and secrecy, but you feel him. He feels the same as the man you found in your dreams all those years ago. That thought makes you feel sick. You believed it was a dream- that what you saw wasn’t real- but now, you know that it was.

``

Nikto felt you before he saw you. A perverted sense of safety melting in his mind, the same feeling he felt when the man he used to be was murdered. It felt safe- scary. He knew it was you before he could deny the feeling, intrinsically he knew it was the girl that tried to pull him out- that tried to save him. 

His eyes immediately snap to you- he doesn’t need time to think if it’s you or not. He knows it is. 

You’re young- beautiful. You’re older, but it’s you. The same girl that saved him. Despite not being aware, your mind called for help. The day after you saw him, he was rescued- as much as he could be at that point. He knew it was you. You were his guardian angel. His reason for living. And now, knowing he wasn’t hallucinating you, he knows that you are meant for him. You are his angel, and he’ll spend the rest of his life showing you his gratitude. 

You see him. But, he felt you long before your sight caught up.

A/N: I want to make this a series. If anyone likes the premise, please let me know!

[violentlovesuccess]

Hear me out… Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley gets turned on when you cry.

He knows.. It disgusts him, too. He just can’t help it. You just look so.. Pretty. The way your tears amplify the color of your eyes, they almost seem to sparkle. The way you look at him so innocently, so sad, like only he can take that pain away from you. He’s heard the term ‘ugly crier’ before, and he thinks you’re the exact opposite of that. Your pain looks hauntingly beautiful on you, it makes his heart ache.

Of course, if you two aren’t in an established relationship, all he’ll do is stare, looking at you like your sadness means nothing, but oh, how it does. It means everything, for you to allow him to see you in such a way. His fingers will twitch from the effort not to reach out to you, to comfort you like you so desperately need. But, he won’t. He’ll only watch, as he usually does, watching your tears, watching the beauty of your sadness be comforted by someone else.

[violentlovesuccess]

The first time you and Nikto fought.. he almost ended it.

He didn’t though, he’s far too strong willed to do that, his survival instincts too sharp. But, he really thought about it, almost planned it, walking into his empty, cold house, sitting on his bed and just staring.. Staring at his knives and guns displayed in perfect order along his bedroom wall; after walking out of your home, the sound of your cries and harsh words keep echoing in his mind, coiling and cementing in his neurons like an acidic parasite. 

The fight was stupid, unnecessary, him saying something to you in a way that felt cruel and unfeeling, and when you called him out on it, he got defensive, too defensive. Once he realized what was happening, it was too late, you were already upset, upset with him. His mind couldn’t handle that, the whispers grew loud within him, screaming at him. He fucked up, he lost you.

Love and happy endings to Nikto always felt like a fairytale, something parents told their children to help them fight their fear of the dark, the growing doom of their mortality. But, when he met you, that feeling slowly started to change. You fell first, something he didn’t see for a very long time, and even longer for him to comprehend. However, once he finally understood you really did like him, he fell much harder, and much faster. He always thought your face and body were ethereal, utterly striking, and once you two finally started actually speaking to one another, he found your soul even more beautiful. 

You’re perfect.

You don’t care that he's broken, because you’re a little broken, too. You find his marred face beautiful. Sexy even. The first time you two made love, you kindly asked him to remove his mask, you’d seen his face before that, but never for so long, so intimately. At that time -he would never admit it- but he was scared. He wanted to say no, he wanted to run away, but he can’t say no to you, not ever, so he complied. That night, you made love to him, you showed him what love truly felt like, what a gentle touch can do to him. 

He cried.

And yet, you still didn’t recoil at him, you just held him in your arms, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, gently riding on top of him. He thinks about that night often, not for the sexual component, but because, that was the first time in his memorable life, he felt safe. 

And now he’s gone and screwed it up. 

He doesn’t quite understand that just because you were angry with him, doesn’t mean you don’t love him anymore. 

The connection you two share is something little girls dream of, he’s your knight in shining armor, and you’re his princess, in every sense of the word. He worships you, only devoted to you and your protection, your happiness, how could you ever fall out of love with that? You don’t care about the blood on his hands, you don’t care that his armor is chinked. You just see him for all that he is, and you love him for it. Something that terrifies and excites him more than anything he’s ever experienced. And the thought  of something so beautiful slipping through his fingers is almost too much for him to bear. The thought of you never being in his arms again, never hearing your goofy jokes, your achingly gorgeous laugh, it makes him sick. 

Since being with you, the voices have grown softer, his sense of self becoming more prevalent. You’ve helped him to want to get better. But now.. The voices are warring. All he hears are them; he becomes stuck where he is, his mind not being able to handle the situation, the emotions of it. 

Dead to everything but his memories. 

He doesn’t hear his phone ring and ring, doesn’t hear you banging on his door, calling his name. Crying out for him; you need him right now, just as much as he needs you.

He doesn’t hear you leave, either.