Tumgik
#remembrance walls
silverskye13 · 2 months
Note
I am turning EB around in my head like a microwave and I have a couple questions:
What is EB and EX's relationship like? I know they view each other as family and EX gets EB's booth, but will we see how they interact more?
Did anyone wind up telling EB that hels!zedaph is dead? If not, does he have suspicions that he is?
and a more general Hels question (that is totally not related no siree) - what is the upkeep for the remembrance walls like?
EB and EX are on friendly terms! They previously saw each other,,, not as rivals in the traditional sense. They didn't openly attack or oppose each other. But EB viewed EX as a challenge: How do I stay distinct from my brother's shadow? Anyone looking for it would find it obvious. EB got Bigger and Louder whenever EX was around, and he used to be much bigger and much louder than he currently is. It's less that he was mean, and more that he was prideful. Becoming friends with Helsknight changed him for the better in that regard. Since he's mellowed out, he and his brother have become closer. They enjoy visiting with each other during Colosseum matches [EB will often stand with EX in the box and talk both before the events, and during intermission] and EX invites EB to a lot of parties, where they shit talk the guests together. We'll see them together once during RnS, but EB is a secondary character, and outside of the one appearance, I don't intend to have EX very involved in the story. He's kind of the unspoken god of the world: he gets a lot of mentions because he's very important to hels, but he's not very important to the plot lol.
Someone did wind up telling EB about hels!zedaph, though yes, he did suspect before he was told. EB hadn't gone looking for HZ for a reason. He didn't want to be the one to find out he was gone. If I can't see it, maybe its not really there.
And the Remembrance Wall Ramble got long so its under the cut!
[Hello future me cutting in here because I just realized you were probably talking about what individuals like EB would do to upkeep a name of a loved one. Mostly it involves regular visits. Keeping the stone clean, replacing it if it gets cracked, making sure it doesn't wear down. Nether bricks to me are a bit brittle, and the ones on the bottoms of the walls will crumble and break down over time. Most of the time, the Order of Remembrance is pretty good at getting them replaced, though they encourage individuals to do it themselves, to decorate the stones, paint or carve them, and overall keep the care personal. People will also sometimes leave gifts of food, flowers, and favored items at walls where loved ones names are kept. Walls are very colorful spots in hels, full of a lot of care.]
The Remembrance walls are, basically, graveyards. Alongside friends and family, who will make sure loved ones names are put down and remembered, the Order of Remembrance manages all Remembrance Walls in the city. We'll get into it a little in the upcoming chapters, but the Order of Remembrance church, and its knights, have a very active presence in hels. They are the cloaks seen most often roaming the streets, in twos and threes. They have regular routes they walk, with walls they are assigned to tend. They make sure the stones are stacked straight and don't fall, replace broken ones, and help people carve names. Many knights have prayer chants where they intentionally try to memorize every name on the wall. Their focus is on the idea that no helsmet is truly gone as long as some memory remains of them. They welcome helsmets approaching them with fond memories of loved ones, and will take testimony from people who know their time is coming. Their church is a glorified library and house of memorization. Part of their worship in remembrance of people is also in the remembrance of history, and they have at least one copy of every book, memoir, and journal in hels they can get their hands on. They have one private collection in the church, and one public library in hels, which they regularly update with copies of originals from the church library.
The only place outside the Order of Remembrance's domain is the shady side of town where Cleo's gangs keep the peace. For control reasons, Cleo doesn't like any opposing force on her claimed land, which includes Order of Remembrance knights. She does still have Remembrance Walls on her side of town, but they are up-kept by the people that live there as a community project. People get together once every few weeks, make food, talk about those that are gone, and make sure none of the stones are broken or stolen.
Erasing memory is a big taboo in hels, understandably. The universe is already cruel enough in taking people, and people, once taken, are woefully easy to forget [they were never meant to exist in the first place, after all]. On the sides of town where the Order of Remembrance upkeeps the walls, anyone caught stealing or destroying stones is tracked down by their paladins, and subjected to community service under close supervision. They're often roughed up in the process, but the paladins won't kill you for breaking a stone. Depending on whose stone you break, and how angry hels is that day, the same can't be said for anyone else who catches you. Repeat offenders, or people who destroy many stones at once with the express intent of erasing memory, are branded by the Order with a mark somewhere visible, normally on the hands. Anyone with that unlucky brand will see increased hostility from their peers, ostricization, lost of livelihood and home -- it's a great way to make everyone in hels hate you. Anyone on Cleo's side of town caught destroying a stone is hunted actively in the streets, and leaving her side of town will not save them. She offers high bounties for that kind of thing.
82 notes · View notes
jidysz · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Fragment of Ghetto wall, Sienna street, Warsaw, Poland
Tumblr media
"In the period from Nov 15, 1940 to Nov 30, 1941 this wall marked the limit of The Ghetto"
Tumblr media
"A brick from this place is in the Yad Vashem Museum in Jerusalem"
Tumblr media
Ghetto Enlave
"A place dedicated to the memory of Jews tortured and murdered in 1940-1943 by the German occupant"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
Text
watch the entirety of milgramblr decimate the silly christmas hats we've had on our icons for the past 2~3 weeks
3 notes · View notes
taikk0 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE HOLY CRAP THANK YOU SM FOR 1000???????? I LITERALLY DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY RN THANK YOU FOR COMING?? PARTICIPATION AWARD?????
Tumblr media
who would've known this drawing would be my 100th post while simultaneously marking the moment I gained 1000 of you
49 notes · View notes
verohnica · 9 months
Text
probably wont do anything on this but just simply missing my fav bby girl </3
1 note · View note
contact-guy · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Look here, Watson; you look regularly done. Lie down there on the sofa, and see if I can put you to sleep.”
He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air- his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face, and the rise and fall of his bow. Then I seemed to be floated peacefully away upon a soft sea of sound, until I found myself in dreamland...
-the Sign of the Four
Or: when your crush is falling for someone else and you’re making one last ditch effort to show your good qualities
Details:
Most of the furniture is referenced from photos I took at the Sherlock Holmes museum and also a funny little Holmes themed bar I visited!
The drawing on the wall is “The Bride, Bridegroom and Sad Love” by Simeon Solomon, 1865
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
13thgenfilm · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Thanks to our strong community, we raised enough money to travel to New York City to film Wendy Moten sing The Lonely Child — the beautiful lullaby at the center of our documentary (and at the center of Alix Wall’s powerful family story from the Holocaust) — on stage at Carnegie Hall during the We Are Here concert in honor of International Holocaust Remembrance Day.
And that's not all. Over the arc of nine days, we had three incredibly successful shoots in both New Orleans and New York — read our latest newsletter for a few highlights: 👉 https://bit.ly/3ZjhE41
0 notes
drakeanddice · 3 months
Text
Haunted by a fantasy world where "adventurer" is handled in the same way as "assassin" in John Wick. An ifykyk secondary economy running on gold coins where everyone knows each other but no one acknowledges the elephant in the room because we have manners about our weird-ass line of deadly desperate dangerous work.
Rolling into town, looking immaculate. Checking into the Inn. Not an inn, or the coaching house, or the traveler's hostel. The Inn. The one that takes my ridiculous oversized coin and says that my room is ready, and will I need to visit the Smith today? Perhaps a meeting with the Vintner? Shall I send up the Gourmand?
"Good afternoon, Master Whicke," the Smith says, putting aside the barrel scraper he's been working on to flip a switch beside the forge. Racks of tenpenny nails and trowels and hammers fold back to reveal the glittering points and edges of a score of swords and axes and spearpoints lit with the flicker of finely-tuned enchantments. "Shall we tour what's new?"
"What sort of occasion are we hosting, Master Whicke?" The Vintner asks, pocketing the coin with a sigh. "A funeral," you say.
"Ah, well perhaps something light to start, then," she says selecting a straight-walled flask that glitters with contained starlight, proof against the touch of the undead. " And something for remembrance," she plucks a small crock of something evil-smelling and phosphorescent. "And then something to really bring down the house." She gingerly selects a double ampoule of energetic looking jellies.
The Gourmand carefully runs his knife through the salted flank of a cockatrice with a pursing of the lips. "So many neglect trail rations, Master Whicke, and it is their shame. Paired with goldenwheat pancakes and carrion honey, a mouthful of cockatrice--properly seasoned of course--will keep the mummy rot at bay, even post-exposure. I have been given to indicate by the Management that your current escapade may make such information useful to you. I will of course wrap your purchases exceedingly carefully. Rot will be your constant companion in the Black Pyramid."
There's something here.
2K notes · View notes
fridgevespidae · 2 years
Text
i have awokenn ... but it is. 7 at night .
1 note · View note
litdigitalart · 2 years
Text
0 notes
charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
Part 7
Content: Injury and Recovery, Care, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Washing, Self-Blame/Self-Hatred, Codependency
Tumblr media
Hell, Nikto thinks, is not punishment for sin. Not a lake of fire or eternal torture for earthly misconduct.
No.
Hell, he’s just discovered, is the absence of god. It’s the black, empty space where the divine used to shine.
It’s your blood soaking his gloves. The scent of your fear creeping past his mask. The single diamond tear that slipped down your scraped cheek when you told him you’d be okay. Your labored breathing and cracked voice. The scream that echoed, echoed, echoed through the stairwell and into his useless skull, rattling against bone walls and too-fresh memories.
Hell has become a hospital room with blank walls and shiny tile. How does that story go — that the deepest layer of hell is frigid? This hospital may not be dusted in frost, but it’s cold enough. You look small and chilly on the thin cot, entangled in wires.
Alive, despite everything.
You don’t feel alive to Nikto.
You’re too still, too washed out. Even when you nap with him, you tend to twitch, eyes flickering beneath your lids. Flushed with warmth in sleep and peaceful-looking. But you don’t move now; barely look better than you did fresh off the helo, unconscious and still bleeding, bleeding, bleeding—
It’s Nikto’s blood in your veins now. His unworthy, corrupted blood turned holy in the chambers of your heart. It wasn’t possession that made him offer his own arm for the transfusion, but rather atonement. The bare minimum he could repent for his utter failure. To offer up even a fraction of his own life in exchange for yours.
He’s been holding vigil by your side ever since, even if he doubts his place there. Waiting for your awakening to decide. Waiting for your judgment. Like a sinner at confessional, though he knows no Hail Mary will cleanse him.
He’s not even sure if you can this time. Not when it’s you he’s wronged.
The change in your breathing is what alerts him.
His eyes have hardly left you since they let him in. Even when his weak body surrendered to sleep, he would face you, so that you would always be the first thing he laid eyes on. Now, though, he searches your face with earnest, searching for any signs of consciousness.
The squeeze of your eyelids. A light furrow in your brow. Your mouth twists as you groan a bit, head drifting before you get control of your neck muscles.
Your eyes blink open slowly, flinchingly. He gives half a mind to breaking one of the overhead bulbs to ease the glare. But he would never risk the shattered glass over your head, or startling you with the noise. So he shifts and waits desperately for you to adjust.
Then you take a deep breath and focus on the ceiling. Seem to take stock for a moment, confusion smoothing into recognition, remembrance.
You tilt your head and meet his eyes.
“Nikto,” you breathe. The long, long hours of unconsciousness have taken a toll though, and even that causes you to cough. You wince a bit at the pain in your side while he reaches for the little plastic cup of water a nurse left. His name alone has brought you pain. It aches through his bones like condemnation.
You make a breathy noise, struggling to sit up. So he eases closer, supports your back to help you sip little doses from the full cup. It’s room temperature, but he knows from experience it’s better that way.
You don’t fuss when he regretfully has to pull it away, mindful of the instructions the nurses left him with. Lays you back as gently as he knows how as you sigh in relief.
He doesn’t feel worthy of touching you and tries to pull away. But you twitch, catch his wrist with the arm attached to an IV. He freezes.
“Nikto.”
There’s voice to the word this time, not just a dry puff of air. It takes Herculean effort to drag his eyes up to yours.
You look tired.
Tired, but all too aware, all too knowing. Sniper he may be, he knows better than to try to wait you out.
“I’m sorry.”
A thousand unspoken apologies crowd on his tongue. All the remorse he never felt compounded onto this one monumental failure.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Your brow furrows but you don’t interrupt. Don’t try to stop him. Just tug him in to huddle against your uninjured side. Let him prostrate himself over your bed, forehead pressed to your hip.
“I’m sorry,” he babbles, “I should have been better. I should have protected you. I almost— I almost…”
The words jam in his throat and then evaporate. No combination of syllables or sounds will be adequate.
Your nails draw gentle circles on his shoulder, then draw in towards his neck. Slip your hand under the collar of his shirt and jacket, just beneath the various trappings that hide his identity. You find skin. The vulnerable, damp nape of his neck. You lay your hand there, cool and dry.
“I forgive you, Nikto.”
“Y-you—”
“I do,” you affirm, giving him a little squeeze. “And it’s my choice to do so.”
He can barely pull himself away, but he has to see your face. Has to know what unconditional forgiveness looks like.
You’re half-lidded, soft. Eyes warm, blinking slow. You’re relaxed, understanding in every curve of your features. For all the world you could be divinity in repose instead of frightfully human, injured and frail.
“Punishing yourself from now on wouldn’t be noble,” you continue, tilting your head knowingly, “it would be martyrdom. And you are not my martyr, Nikto.”
He has not cried in… well. Long before his mind was torn apart and stitched back together wrong. Doubts he even knows how to, now. But his eyes burn as he presses his face into your hip again and shudders hard.
How foolish. To think he had any grasp of what forgiveness is. To think he understood what atonement was. When the only one who could set the bounds for damnation is you.
“I almost left you.”
“‘Almost’ and ‘would have’ are poison. You can’t convict on an almost. An almost is a warning, nothing to hang yourself for.”
You squeeze his neck again, unfailingly gentle. Unfalteringly steady.
“You stayed. I’m alive. Let’s focus on recovery now.”
He nods, hands clenched tight in the once-smooth fabric of the hospital sheets. It comes away wrinkled, but still clean.
You’re released from hospital two days later.
The wound, while dangerous in the moment, was a relatively easy fix once you had medical care. A clean shot, only just chipping off a bit of rib and grazing your large intestine. Everything is sewn and medicated and healing now. You’re uncomfortable, but KorTac isn’t as stingy with pain management as a normal military outfit — especially not with Nikto looming over your shoulder.
And you, his precious angel, are an absolute trooper.
You let the medical staff poke and prod and peal your bandages without fuss. Sit up with little more than a grimace and a hiss. In good spirits, all around.
Nikto carves your care instructions into the walls of his mind, a New Testament — temporary though it may be. The nurses send you in a wheelchair down to the ground floor, but after that, you’re allowed to walk.
Nikto doesn’t like it. He’d carry you to the edge of the Earth if necessary. But you just wave away his concern and grab onto his hovering arm for stability as you stand. A bit unsteady, terribly uncomfortable, but determined.
He gets you back to the barracks, you cursing with every movement that’s not a smooth step on even ground. Nikto lets you lean most of your weight into him and tries to keep his aching heart steady.
You sigh when you reach the barracks. Let him lay you down and get you comfortable before giving you another dose of pain meds. He busies himself collecting things and rearranging the room.
Making sure there’s not so much as a sock between you and the restroom. Getting your computer, phone, and respective chargers within easy reach. Filling a cup with water and arranging your soft blankets over your legs.
He’s just finished with that when there’s a knock at the door. Konig, delivering a meal. Not just any meal — takeout from your favorite little restaurant in town. Complete with sweets.
You call a thank you to the Austrian, who expresses his best wishes, and then Nikto shuts out the rest of the world again to let you rest. You don’t seem to mind, beckoning him back to your side.
Sharing the food, the blankets and pillows. Get him to set up your laptop with a movie — the meds kick in halfway through, leave you drooling a bit against his sleeve.
Nikto does not care. You may have forgiven him, and therefore it is not his place to repent for this anymore. But caring for you has never been atonement. It is his reward for putting his loyalty where it belongs.
The next day is worse. Your mood has dipped a bit, the soreness catching up. Not that you snap at Nikto or anything of the sort. But he knows you, and can tell from the tension in your body and wincing expressions when you think he isn’t looking.
You brighten a bit when he finally remembers to take his mask off. He even lets you babble when the meds make you fuzzy and overly-complimentary. Nearly falls asleep to you absently mapping the ugly scars that score deep into his hairline.
At some point though, the misery seems to catch up to you.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if I could just… wash up, I guess,” you grumble, looking ready to throw something.
The nurses did what they could, of course, but their focus had been on fixing you and then keeping your wounds clean. Enough hygiene to avoid infection. But you’re still grimy in uncomfortable places and you hate being in bed feeling “icky.”
Nikto instantly sets to work correcting that. He digs out one of his clean shirts, your favorite sweatpants, a soft pair of underwear. You watch him curiously as he takes it all into the restroom. The shower is standing room only, unfortunately — and besides, you can’t get your stitches wet for a while still. But he can at least help you freshen up.
“Come here.”
You take his arm, let him sit you up and then guide you to the restroom. When you see the cloth on the edge of the sink you get a bit misty-eyed. He lets you sniffle for a moment, patient while you wipe your eyes and mumble a “thank you.”
Then he helps you strip to your underwear and sits you on the towel he’s placed on the toilet lid. He kneels and starts from the top, a little dollop of soap on the facecloth and hot water.
You offer up an arm, careful not to overextend, palm up and fingers lax. Nikto works from your shoulder down to your fingertips. Smoothing over bruised muscle, stale sweat, scrubbing away dirt and crusted blood at the nail beds. Rinses the cloth, wipes away the excess soap, and repeats the process on the other arm.
The bathroom is silent save for the falling water and your shared breaths. You tilt your head to let him caress over your neck, down to your chest. He pauses, unsure of his welcome here, but you mumble that it’s fine either way. His touch is perfunctory but careful over your breasts, though he marvels privately at the plushness, the warmth. Politely ignores the way your nipples harden as the water cools in the air. Even if he’s so… so tempted to provide care in other ways.
You don’t so much as twitch; he can feel your gaze upon him from above. Yet he cannot force his eyes away from his work. Each gentle sweep of the cloth feels like restoring a temple, like holy work. Like paying his dues more directly than any church’s offering plate. You are such delicate work, his attention cannot afford to waver.
At your ribs, he starts on your uninjured side. Counts as his fingertips bump along them. You hum when he reaches the soft tissue of your stomach, a little shudder going through you.
“Ticklish,” you explain when his hand jerks back. “I’m alright.”
He feels one side of his mouth tug when he dips the cloth into your navel and you snort a bit. The other side of you is still bandaged, clean and white. No damning spots of red. He avoids the medical tape to get what he can and then continues down.
More bitten off giggles at your hips. He indulges in arching his bare thumb over the bone, just to feel the warmth and silk of your skin. Then continues his work.
He braces your foot on his thigh as he swipes the cloth over yours, minding the pressure on the sensitive inner skin. Over your knee, down to the ankle before switching to the other leg. You lean back and sigh, knock your knee gently into his ribs. When he glances up to see if you need anything, you just smile. Soft and a bit drowsy.
Only then does he scrub your feet, making you twitch and laugh a bit, complaining that he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not, but he likes the sound of your laughter; he thought he’d never hear it again.
He washes the cloth out one more time and helps you stand, lathering circles into your back while you press into him.
You take over when he’s finished. This time he does turn away, though he aches to do so. But your hand is still on his back, using him for support while you finish cleaning up intimate areas.
“Done,” you murmur. He unfolds a towel and turns, keeping his eyes above your head as he wraps it around you from behind.
You hold it up while he pats over you, soaking up any droplets that haven’t dried yet.
Warm and clean(er), your mood seems much improved. He kneels again to help you into a new pair of panties, realizes he’s an absolute fool to put himself so close when you smell only faintly like the shared soap. The rest is you, and you smell delicious.
He swallows thickly and eases you into your sweatpants, split between longing and relief when he stands to put you in the shirt. If you notice the bulge in his own lounge pants, you say nothing — though he doubts you do. You’re nearly asleep standing, almost stumbling as he takes you back to bed. You reach for him weakly and urge him in with you.
“Thank you, Nikto,” you murmur into his shoulder. “Love you.”
And you’ve forgiven him, despite everything. So he allows himself just this one thing — and presses his lips to your temple.
Tumblr media
First | Previous | Next
Masterlist
976 notes · View notes
kaeddehara · 2 years
Text
pervert oneshot ideas <3
୨⋆ albedo + xiao + tighnari + aether + kazuha ୧⋆
[ nsfw, mdni!!, cursing, for afab!reader ]
Tumblr media
usual perverted acts, dirty thoughts, touch deprived bedo, looking up your skirt <33, perversion through dirty thoughts
albedo is very cold yet kind hearted upon appearance. as you grow closer to him, he’s slowly willing to open himself up. having such a pretty boy at your will is certainly dangerous in certain circumstances. not to worry though, albedo can take over when you can’t. he’s oh so good at switching from a soft spoken and quite demeanor to a needy, clingy one in just a few quick touches. meaning, you are his complete weakness. even things you have no remembrance of doing, albedo remembers so clearly in his pretty head. this includes all things. so the time you bent over in front of his desk to pick up your pen and he saw up your skirt, panties tight on your cute pussy lips wasn’t an exception. albedo is very observant but sometimes this gift can be a very large distraction to his work. trying so hard to work on finishing up some papers but all his mind is running to is you between his legs the night before or even just your pretty lips or smile. it drives albedo crazy knowing how big of a distraction you are to his work. it’s only until you start to realize what an effect you have on the poor boy that he breaks. teasing him time after time till he can’t take it and pushes you down so he can have his way with you. “finally gonna stop being a little pervert and fuck me like a real man bedo?” that’s all you needed to shut him down real quick. causing him to lunge at you and take you right on his desk. <3
possessive xiao, very slight cnc??, perversion through obsession <3
xiao is never one to go out of his way for anyone unless absolutely deemed necessary. but for you, he will do anything and everything to have you right by his side. so possessive over what’s his. it wouldn’t be a surprise if he were to catch you chatting to another man; noticing how he looks at you and the way his hand brushes over your skin. to you, this is a simple his eyes are filled with hatred and it takes so much for him to hold back until you’re alone. swiftly grabbing you and pulling you to a lone location. you’re all confused and begging him to slow down and explain to you what the rush was. like you weren’t the one letting that man look at you and touch you like that. just that was enough to break xiao and need to remind you that you were his. “x-xiao please i only want you” “let me prove it, i don’t want to have to keep punishing you for this” truth was, he loved punishing you. from the way you begged him to slow down or stop to the way your body begged for more even as your words were completely different from what your body was saying. xiao loved it all. pushing you against the wall at his stay at the end as he pounded into you panting and growling like an animal, it was exactly what you loved about him too <3.
mentions of jerking off, riding pent up aether hiwjdjwjfjs, perversion through touch deprivation :((
aether is such a sweet, helpful boy. always willing to go out of his way for others and spend time with them. it’s what drew so many people towards him. just how kind hearted he was. along with his adorable appearance, it was surprising how people weren’t all over him. although, while aether appeared so willing the truth was, he was exhausted. he never liked to tell another though for fear they wouldn’t rely on him like they once did. that was until he found you. someone he could open up to a bit. it took a lot of time to get used to someone so willing to help him out and loving him for him not his deeds or charisma. you’d find him so run down and tired you’d instantly go to take care of him. but when aether finally got the courage to ask for something more from you, you were all over him. usually, he’d stick to just jerking himself off for relief on his body, but once you got into the picture, he couldn’t resist. pushing him back against a comfortable seat and straddling his lap. he was so unused to being touched by another. once you got down to it, you could tell this is really all he needed. to be ridden till he couldn’t even think for himself. even while you took care of aether you couldn’t help but tease little things out of him. saying how you saw and heard him those nights furiously pumping his aching cock, begging for anything to help him feel better. it was adorable. aether just panted and smiled to himself at how you knew about him. “do the knights know what a little pervert they have as their honorary knight?” aether could only keep panting and letting out half filled sentences that meant nothing. his pretty blonde hair sticking to his skin and face sheen with sweat. so dirty for someone so sweet looking <3.
perversion through wet dreams, he just misses you tbh, sweet kazu :))
kazuha aches for how you feel. everything about your touch is so intoxicating to him he can’t resist. even after he’s gotten what he’s wanted or if not, he’ll always have it on his sweet little mind. even as he tries to fall asleep, it’s filled with thoughts of you sweet or lust filled. this usually leads to kazuha drifting off to sleep rather quickly alone by himself. as he finds himself asleep comfortably, his mind will start to play images and records of you and him together. all those memories coming into his dream. whether that was fucking you with your legs pushed up to your chest or riding him till his legs started to shake from pleasure. it was all so intoxicatingly dreamy. he might find himself waking up in the middle of the night, woken up from his dreams still fresh in his mind. he’ll sit up panting with an impressive hard on this late at all. all from those dreams and thoughts of you of course. “if only you knew what you did to me, love”. to relieve himself for the time being, he’ll lazily push his waist band down on his pants and wrap his thin fingers around his thick, pulsating cock just begging to be touched by you. sleepily jerking himself off as his dirty mind continues thoughts of you.
pervert tig is the best tig, panty stealing <33, honestly just him getting off on your smell
tighnari seems like the type to not want to get too close to anyone. always off so focused in his work, it’s hard to even see him being genuinely invested in a relationship. that was, until you appeared and helped him out of this mindset. not only were you on the same level as him in terms of smarts, but also had amazing wit and sense of self. tighnari couldn’t help his beating heart when he stared at you even from a distance, tail slowly started to shake at mere thoughts of you. it took a little longer for him to actually call him yours but once he did, he got straight to the point. coming into your room late at night ( to keep suspension away from the others ) as he looked around for anything that could be used for this. ending up with your shirt and a pair of used panties you’d worn that day. tighnari couldn’t help the guilt building up in his stomach as just your scent was enough to get him off. “you smell so good..hm..” hell whine to himself all the while he’s got your panties wrapped around his pent up cock. tighnari dreamed of the day you two would finally be able to enjoy each other fully so he could stop these disgusting, perverted acts. until then, he’d just have to keep this dirty secret kept to himself for now.
6K notes · View notes
retrievablememories · 6 months
Text
one of these nights | dpr ian
Tumblr media
word count: 1.1k warnings: kissing. and some suggestiveness/sexual tension. a/n: finally conjured something up. hooray for me breaking a nearly 10 year dry streak of never completing a single fic of this guy?
i'm finding that i'm in no mood to write anything explicit lately (cherry bomb wore me out ok), so this will probably not be what a lot of folks are looking for, but… this was written more for my own self-indulgence than anything else. 🤓 please don’t jump me about a part 2, i don't know whether there will be one or not
divider from here
Tumblr media
"i'm tired," you say, crossing your arms and leaning your weight against the brick wall behind you. you blink slowly, trying to placate some of your exhaustion and rest your eyes. it's not the most comfortable resting spot, but it's all you have for now until you're back in your heated apartment and in your own bed.
"it should only take him a minute to find his wallet," christian reassures you as he settles himself on the wall opposite to you, knowing how eager you are to get back home. he can't blame you, as the long night is beginning to catch up to him, too.
"i can't believe he lost it in the first place; who the hell does that?" your friend had dashed back in the direction of the restaurant once you all had gotten halfway down the block and he realized he didn't have his wallet. now you are just waiting for him to find it and come back, having ducked into this alleyway to try to get some shelter away from the winter breeze. you wouldn't have gone anywhere near this dim, narrow alley if you were with anyone else, but you trust christian to keep you safe if anything happens. it feels unusual but comforting to be able to trust someone in that way.
christian chuckles lightly and shakes his head. "y'know, i think he was a little too preoccupied flirting with the waitress to keep track of it."
despite your tiredness, you break into giggles at the remembrance of your friend's corny attempts at flirting with lines that seemed to come straight from a poorly-rated romcom.
even after your laughter dies down, your insides pleasantly warmed by the amusement, christian's eyes stay on you—intently watching. when you realize this, you meet his gaze again with a question beginning to form on your lips.
your eyes only have seconds to remain interlocked with each other's before christian is stepping forward in one long stride, his body heat filling your space and his lips capturing yours.
it's completely unexpected. what's more unexpected is the flash of scalding heat that it sends through your body, and the quiet, surprised moan it pulls from you. his lips are warm and unaffected by the cold of the outdoors. strands of his hair tickle your face, and his nose presses against your cheek, the solid metal of his nose ring disrupting the soft touch of his skin on yours.
there are the ghosts of his hands—one at your hip and the other somewhere between the nape of your neck and the side of your jaw—but neither one fully makes contact with your body, just brushing by like he's decided he can't touch you or it might overwhelm him. his mouth parts, and there is the tip of his tongue gliding across the seam of your lips. you are just about to invite him inside, but then there is nothing more.
the kiss ends before you can fully get your bearings within it. christian separates from you and a trail of spit is the only thing left connecting you both, which breaks when he backs away.
"maybe i shouldn't have done that," he says, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. "i'm sorry." you don't know what to say to that.
the unruly breeze is back, changing directions and flooding into the narrow alley, and it makes your lips even colder than they'd otherwise be from the new moisture on them. your entire nervous system feels like it's vibrating within your body—trembling with the desire for more. you want to cross those few feet of space and go to him, meld your bodies together, crush your lips against his, scratch your nails across his back over the smooth leather of his jacket.
you might even like it if he picked you up and pressed your back against that rough brick wall—if you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed his slender waist between your thighs—if you felt his fingertips sink into the flesh of your thighs while his tongue sunk into your mouth.
but your feet stay planted right where they are.
"sorry? you don't have to be sorry. but why did you do it?"
"i just wanted to—for a while now. that's pretty selfish of me, but...fuck." he flips a hand through his hair like he always does; he does it so frequently that sometimes it distracts you from the conversation at hand. in those moments, all you can really think about is the softness of his hair as it slides through your fingers, the few times you’ve touched it before.
now, all you can think about is grasping it more firmly and controlling his movements, bringing his mouth back to yours so you can taste him again.
lost in his thoughts, he bites his lip. the vibrating of your nerves intensifies.
"well, do it again. you could be selfish with me, christian."
there's an expectant pause as you both size each other up, a mutual understanding and desire developing in the silence. christian approaches you again, but slower this time, like he's trying to gauge if you're serious. in seconds, he's right in front of you and breathing your air and staring at you like he is hungry for something only you could give him.
quietly, you reiterate: “take whatever it is that you want. i want you to do that.”
“darling...” his voice sounds deceptively gentle, teasing even though he doesn’t mean for it to be. he whispers to you as if you’re a glass figurine that could disintegrate if he speaks too loudly, even as his tattooed hand presses against the brick beside your head, already enveloping you. leaning in, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and staying there, he says: “do you really want me to—”
"hey! i found it."
you abruptly turn away from christian, looking at your friend who's standing at the entrance of the alleyway and holding his wallet up with triumph. "what are you two doing?" your friend looks at you cluelessly, though realization immediately dawns on him with an embarrassed smile he tries to tamp down.
the moment is shattered; christian's expression breaks into an awkward smile that matches your friend's, and once again the space between you is wider than you'd like for it to be, his arm back at his side. "dude..."
you give a heavy sigh and roll your eyes, suddenly remembering how tired you are. "...nothing. let's go home."
429 notes · View notes
gorejo · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
▸ UNDER IS ALWAYS THE BEST VIEW- RORONOA ZORO.
synopsis: As someone aspiring to be the greatest swordsman in the world, it was rare for Zoro to look up to someone. yet he finds himself looking up at one person — a feat he's never willingly done for anyone. maybe this is the only way the king of hell can also experience the goodness of what heaven is like for a devil like him.
content: 2.2k, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, unedited, petnames (baby, angel, sweetheart), unprotected sex, mention of alcohol/getting drunk, mention of bodily wounds (zoro).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
As someone aspiring to be the greatest swordsman in the world, it was rare for Zoro to look up to someone. In the minuscule number of his ten fingers — his pride not letting him go past the five digits in his left hand — Zoro could most confidently name those few that he looked up to — Mihawk, his old Sensei, Kuina, and dead man Ryuma — each name endowed with honor in his mind. 
Each time he drew his katanas from his right hip, he remembered. With every battle that he was the successor of, he remembered. Every enemy he met that mocked his fervent passion, he defeated in remembrance of his goal and his promise to Luffy – for the future King of Pirates was worthy to have the Greatest Swordsman by his side. 
With every training session he had, with puddles of sweat pooling as he tore every fiber of his muscle to get stronger, always lifting those god-awful weights in the crow’s nest, he remembered. 
He remembers that there was always one goal in mind: to be the greatest. And he takes great pride in that.
Even if he did look up to someone, placing them in higher regard of influence compared to others, it took a lot for the swordsman to acknowledge his defeats, almost every time forcing him to his knees with multiple gashes to his skin, bruises, and blood — much apparent in the prominent scar that runs deep from his upper right chest to his stomach — an honorable wound he’ll now reminiscent on, with words few as he cleaned his swords, “scars on the back are a swordsman's shame.”
Thus, you’ll never catch Zoro ever running from his opponent, and never will he willingly allow himself to be placed under someone besides Luffy. Like an animal set to kill, eyes locked, he’ll chase and stand his ground — especially when it comes to protecting his Nakama — his people. 
But, despite everything about Zoro that should object to him willingly looking up at someone, allowing someone else to take control over his body as he simply lays rest, he’s come to rather enjoy it — no, it drove him absolutely maniac. 
Because Zoro never had a chance to actually look up to someone — well, physically that is. 
Maybe it was the sake that he drank not too long ago that caused his mind to swirl, and his body to react in ways outside his normal stoic character. His hands reached for places he’d normally be ashamed of doing in public, releasing a deep groan from the pits of his stomach as he flexed his strong abs, looking up with cheeks heated with a hue of tainted rose, chest huffing for air as he forced his spit down his dry throat. 
But it was odd, he recalls he didn’t drink too much compared to the usual copious amount of alcohol he doused himself with. But then again, even without alcohol, he would willingly find himself in this position — you on top of him, as he watched you grinding your hips as you clenched on his pulsing length, gripping onto his sweaty chest as your nails dug into his skin, tiredly panting absolutely gone from the remnants of the past orgasms he’s fucked out of you.
Zoro doesn’t think you can look any more beautiful, so beautiful as you push yourself for more of him, for him to reach deeper inside and settle himself into the depth of your inner walls and never leave. 
It’s almost cute how you try to take control. And it makes his cock twitch a bit when he sees how difficult it is for you to even wrap your nimble fingers around his thicker wrists, but yet you try — albeit, with a little whine you unwittingly pull out that makes him weak. He’ll give you the world, maybe even sacrifice the title of being the greatest, if he could hear his name being softly moaned out your lips. 
“Zoro,” you mewled out, your thighs burning from the rounds you both fucked, “c-can you help me?” you pleaded with eyes filled with tears, staining your pretty face as your words barely made it out of your lips.
“I thought this was your favorite part,” the swordsman teased, one hand quickly finding refuge to grip your ass, while the other played with your hardened nipple. 
Zoro lied, for the King of Hell this was his favorite part.
Sometimes when you felt risque, he’ll cave into your needy whines and invite you up to the crow’s nest when he was on night duty to fuck you. Romantic he thinks, as he pistols his cock inside you while watching the waves lightly crash against the Sunny Go, the sheer moonlight being the only source of light for you both – your ass perfectly highlighted by the sweat, the sheer light dimly illuminating the stretch of your swollen pussy had wrapped around him so snugly. 
It’ll be a lie for him to deny that the thrill made his blood pump to his cock a lot faster than normal. Fucking in secret, raw and sweaty was his vibe. 
“Ngh, ‘Ro… s-slow –” 
His hand muffled your desperate moans – the callous pricking at your skin as he suddenly pushed one finger, two fingers into your small crevice that felt just so warm. 
“shhh, angel,” he growled, his teeth biting the side of your neck, his tongue sweeping up as he heavily breathed against your ear, “don’t want the whole crew to know we’re fucking, do we?” he sounds sweet, yet the stick in between his legs, pistoling deeply inside you as he grunted with every thrust and flex of his ass showed no mercy.
“This is all for me?” he groaned as he pushed his weight to the ground, his body engulfing yours as he continued to push himself deeper in, the slap of wet skin echoing in the humid room, “all” thrust  “of” thrust “this” thrust “is” thrust “for” thrust “me.”
And he pushes, his feet firmly pressing against the floor as he drills himself in and he wickedly stays there.
Don’t get it wrong, Zoro loved fucking you in different positions. 
He loved to see you perched on the wooden floor, your ass high as his hands gripped onto your waists while he thrusts his length inside you, watching every inch of his cock disappear inside your cunt, the shine of your cum coating him pretty. 
He loved fucking you in the kitchen, his hand placed behind your back, pushing his weight down as you desperately held onto the kitchen table. Hearing the sharp smacks of your ass as it rippled with every thrust he made sounded so glorious in his ears. 
He smirks, thinking how it’ll be a nice treat for a certain cook the next time he steps in. 
Even better was when you would reach over and tug at his finger, face flat on his bed as he slammed his cock downward — a knowing signal he’s come to decipher — and who would he be than to deny your advances? Cock twitching inside your gummy walls as he feels you flinching at his tip poking a certain fleshy portion within. 
But the actual best part was when you’d whine, “ ‘ro i want to see you…” 
“Yea?” He’ll rasp out, his head thrown back, teeth clenched as he pulled his feet upward to get a better angle for his cock.
“mhm, I want to hold you,” you softly responded, your breath and words hitching with every pulse of his thrust. 
and he’ll succumb to you — always. because what power would a devil, like him, have over god’s treasure, like you.
So quickly he’ll grab hold of your shoulder, unwilling to pull out of your warm pussy as he changes positions. Making sure not to overwhelm his strength on you, by being as gentle as he could.
Settling into position, hissing when the rough fabric met contact with his marked skin, he’ll help you get comfortable before guiding your pace until he’ll let you fully take control. His deeply calloused hands pricked at your sensitive skin, leaving you wincing at the slight pain as he ran his palm down your stomach, hand placed at the base of your tummy as he lustfully watched you desperately grind your hips while the lewd squelches of your juices melodically resounded in his ears
“I’m all yours princess,” placing his hands behind his neck, his arms flexed and stomach harshly taking in staggered breaths. He’ll watch you with dilated eyes, the sweat on his temple shining in the dark as he scanned you from top to bottom, “so fuckin’ pretty,” he’ll release.
“But ngh,” you shuddered as you felt the tip of his cock graze past a sweet spot, your head thrown back while your hips moved on their own accord, your lungs on fire from the lack of oxygen in the humid room. 
“You gotta talk doll,” Zoro continued to press, lifting himself from the bed, his hand stabilizing your head forward, teeth biting at your skin while his tongue swirled on the denture marks, he'll coax when he notices you struggling, “Breathe, you gotta breathe, baby."
Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and on cue, his hands surround your waists. “Fuckkk,” groaning from the tightness of your walls rubbing against his cock, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper, Zoro lifts his head up to look at you. 
Pretty, he thinks. and despite having one valid eye to see all of you, he didn’t feel at a loss. he’ll always cave to the rapid pumping of his heart and the unusual intense feeling of emotion that tainted his mind, he knew he’ll have to cum soon.
But if there was one thing that his insufferable cook had drilled into his brain from the countless amounts of time he’d seen him chasing after women was the honorable concept, he’d allow only with you, of ladies first. 
“Almost there?” Zoro groaned, the sweat dripping down his chin as he watched the intimacy of where you both connected — sweaty, sticky, and awfully erotic.
“Mhm, j-just a little more,” you barely whispered into his ear, lightly biting at his lobe as you mustered up the strength to cup his face. 
At the contact, Zoro feels the waves of euphoria and his pent-up emotions leak through his resolve as he melts into your warm touch. 
Sometimes he’ll feel a tear threaten to leave, the knot he’ll feel crawling up his neck as he pushes down his emotions. Like an empty vessel quickly filling up with water and overflowing, he, too, felt the gush of his impending ecstasy about to explode.
“Want me to help,” your partner groaned when he felt you suddenly clenched on his length, your warm, gummy walls pulsating on every inch of his cock. 
“Hold me,” is all you ask. 
And for Zoro, it was more than enough. 
Because at your words, he’ll further pull you down onto his length, yelping at his strength as he had you smothered into his chest, his strong arms fully encapsulating you as your ass bounced with each harsh thrust he made.
He tried to be careful, desperately tried to not use too much of his strength as he tried to gauge your expressions and pants, being mindful despite himself feeling as if he’d burst any moment.
“Where?” he’ll ask, his tone stretched low with a growl.
“I-inside oh god! Z-zoro f-faster, p-please!” you cried out as your fingers grasped onto the ends of his green hair.
you mustve been fucking. He’ll break you if he goes any faster, any harder his logic warned him. 
But where’s logic when it comes to sex?
Quickly repositioning his angle to hit deeper, just underneath the familiar gummy area that had you previously creaming on his cock, he pistoled his cock inside, his wet balls slapping against your ass that was now red from his hand prints.
“Ngh Z-zoro!” you moaned out as you felt his hands suddenly cup your face, “cum now,” your boyfriend ordered.
And under the warmth of your skin, as he watched you finally release your high, taking all of you in as he continued to pump his length inside you as you gasped and cried, desperately thrusting to meet his climax. 
“Fucking shit,” he growled before pulling you down for a sloppy kiss, the force of his hips losing rhythm while your moans became muffled into one. You felt the thick ropes of his cum shoot out and finally coat your inner walls that were carved perfectly for him, continuously pumping his cock to push in his seeds deeper in.
With brows furrowed and harsh breaths released through his nose, tongues tangled warmly as he pushed back your hair and massaged your neck, his hips treading a soft rhythm.
A tear befalls — a single drop he’ll allow. one droplet that contains all the years of the lonesome burden he's carried to be the greatest, years of sacrifice and pain, singlehandedly humbled in the weight of one. 
Slowly unlatching, his lips chasing yours as you softly smile while gently pushing him down. He’ll feel you comb your fingers through his damp hair and lightly hum in love. Tenderly placing a light kiss on his sweaty forehead and laughing as you brushed a tear from his eye.
Zoro once again realizes that under will always be his favorite view with you.
Because maybe a demon like him can experience a glimpse of heaven under the reigns of his angel.
Tumblr media
satorins. do not copy, plagiarize, or repost.
comments: cheers to our first one piece fic!!! yipee!! hopefully we can see more of these silly boys in the future ◡̈ but again, hope you enjoyed !!
1K notes · View notes
eternalguk · 3 months
Text
All Yours || jjk. (M)
Tumblr media
Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.
Tumblr media
↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader
↠ Summary : Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.
↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, comfort au, boyfriend!jk & teacher!reader, pwp (teeny tiny angst, fluff & smut)
↠ Word count : 6.3k
↠ Warnings : allusions to sadness / anxiety, oc hating her job, oc is an overthinker, brief mention of taehyung, unprotected sex, female oral, fingering, breast play, making out, reader squirts, pet names, softdom!jk, praise kink and they’re both just hopelessly in love with e/o.
↠ A/n : hi everyone, it’s nice to meet you 🤍 here is a soft Jungkook fic that I have written as a form of closure for something. I hope you enjoy this short musing and can also find comfort from this. Your feedback is always appreciated and I would love to get to know you! Happy reading 🦢.
↠ Song : Chariot - Jacob Lee.
Tumblr media
Work.
The word itself sent a chill down your spine and made your throat feel stuck. What field of work does your job fall into, you wondered as you stepped outside the building.
Am I a babysitter? A therapist? A cleaner? An administrator? A parent? Everyday, as you walk towards your car, the same thoughts fill your brain as you keep your eyes from closing.
A teacher.
All those jobs fell into one category and that was being a teacher.
You loved your job, you really did. But it was finally beginning to catch up to you and burn you out. 
As you put your students’ exercise books into your car, your phone rings. A sigh escapes your lips as you curse whoever is calling you at the moment your brain is shutting down.
A small smile forms on your face as you read the caller id. 
Jungkook.
You answer immediately, your tense body visibly relaxing.
“Jagi? Hello?”
You listen to his voice, eyes beginning to tear up as you realise how much you’ve missed him.
“Guk!” you say brightly, hoping to mask the tiredness laced all round you.
“You’ve not replied all day, I’ve been waiting!” He begins. You already know what’s coming next.
“I told you to message me at break, lunch and to leave as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day. You’ve stayed behind again!”
“Mhmm”
“Do I need to come collect you myself? Keep the car at home, huh?” He scolds, but you know his intentions simply mean well for you. What did you do to deserve a loving boyfriend like him?
“I’m sitting into the car now to head home; I’ll be back in no time. I was on detention duty.” You reply, skin crawling at the remembrance of you waiting for the students to leave.
“Be quick babe, I’ll get your food ready.”
“Okay, my love.” You smile again, counting down the minutes until you see your boyfriend.
“Love you,” he whispers. You imagine the grin playing on his lips.
“Love you more,” you respond, switching your car on as he cuts the call.
Tumblr media
Comfort. Delight. Jungkook.
As you step through the threshold of your home, a sense of warmth and comfort immediately envelops you. The cosy ambiance welcomes you like an old friend, with soft lighting casting gentle glows across the hallway. The scent of freshly made cookies mingles with the familiar aroma of your favourite scented candles, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.
He truly knows how to bring a smile to your face.
Every corner is adorned with personal touches, from cherished photographs of you and Jungkook, to carefully selected décor that reflects your unique styles. As you move through the space, you can't help but feel grateful for the haven you have created with Jungkook, where you both have cultivated a sanctuary that feels like an extension of yourselves.
Here, amidst the walls that hold your shared memories and the echoes of your laughter, you have crafted the perfect safe space where you can be yourselves, finding solace and serenity in one another's presence.
Smiling, you head into your main living space, waiting to see the only person who puts your busy mind at ease.
Jungkook stands with his back to you. Bam, your playful dog, next to him.
You admire Jungkook staring out the window, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the rain that briskly falls outside. His eyes are steady to each drop, face aglow with the orange rays that spill from the lamp before him. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. You move closer to him, hoping he’d feel your presence, yet you stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a little while longer.
“You got home fast?” A quiet whisper breaks the silence as a hand reaches out to you, beckoning you to come closer. Nuzzling into your boyfriend, you reply a quick, “mhm,” before reaching up to peck his cheek and resting your own against his bare shoulder.
“And you’re half-naked?” You tease, brushing your nose against his soft skin. Jungkook had evidently just showered, his typical body lotion filling your nose. You’d always tell him how you dislike his lotion, and so he’d use exactly that one.
“That’s what love is,” he’d always say.
“Long day?”
“Long week,” you sigh, removing your shoes at the same time and dropping your bag. You mentally thank the fact that you missed the rain by a millisecond. Having soaked clothes and books would’ve definitely made your day worse.
“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook prompts, his husky voice already washing you with calmness. You shake your head, “no,” simply wanting to relish in the comforting ambience that occupied your home.
Minutes pass as you both watch the March rain. The day really had slipped away into a moment of time, as if it had never really been yours in the first place.
Tumblr media
“And here is your lasagna, my love. Made by yours truly.” Jungkook smiles, placing a bowl of warmth before you.
As Jungkook places the steaming bowl of lasagna in front of you, its aroma fills the air. He settles across from you, a grin playing on his lips, but you notice there’s no bowl for himself.
"Where's yours?" you inquire, already sensing the answer.
With a nonchalant shrug, Jungkook replies, "Already had mine." 
You roll your eyes, a playful scowl crossing your face. "That's one thing I hate about you," you jest, though there's a hint of annoyance in your tone.
He chuckles, undeterred. "It's not like I can't eat again." With that, he rises to retrieve a modest portion of lasagna for himself.
As you both dig into the savoury dish made by your boyfriend, conversation flows effortlessly. "Shall I ask about work?" Jungkook inquires, breaking the comfortable silence.
You sigh, swirling your fork in the layers of cheese and pasta. "I'm really considering handing in my notice," you confess, contemplating a change to a quieter job.
Jungkook nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting empathy. "You could do with a break," he agrees, his voice gentle. "You know, my dad really liked those jewellery designs you sketched. Come work with us. Plus, I’ll get to see more of you," he adds with a playful smirk.
You laugh, shaking your head. "You just want to fulfil your dreams of office sex," you tease, with a fondness in your tone.
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, don't call me out so soon," he retorts with a smirk, winking at you.
Shifting the conversation, you inquire about his own work, wondering if he felt more settled today with his dad.
“Yeah, I'm enjoying the creative freedom,” Jungkook replies, a sense of satisfaction evident in his voice. You knew he had troubles voicing his ideas, but with encouragement from you, he finally felt confident enough to show his father.
Curious about his recent photography bookings, you ask about any upcoming weddings.
Jungkook's face lights up with a grin. "Yes, Sunmi recommended me to a friend," he reveals proudly.
The joy you felt knowing Jungkook was still able to balance his passion with work was something inexplicable.
"We need to invite her and Namjoon over for lunch," you suggest, already picturing the lively gathering.
Agreeing wholeheartedly, Jungkook nods as you both continue to savour the lasagna and each other's company, content in the warmth of shared moments and future plans.
Breaking the comfortable silence, Jungkook clears his throat, drawing your attention. "Guess who reached out to me earlier today," he announces, a hint of excitement, but shock in his voice.
Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Who?"
Jungkook's eyes light up as he responds, "Taehyung hyung." 
You offer a polite smile. "Ah, that's nice," you remark, though a subtle tension settles over you.
"He's back in town next weekend with, you know who," Jungkook continues, sensing your unease but pressing on gently.
Your grip tightens slightly on your utensils, but you nod, silently signalling for him to continue.
"He wanted to see us," Jungkook reveals. "I said I'll check with you."
Before you can even apologise for your hesitation, Jungkook reaches over, gently clasping your hand. "Never apologise," he insists, his voice firm yet comforting. "We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable."
You exhale softly, grateful for his understanding. "I really don't mind him," you confess, your words tinged with resignation. "It's been years, and I've moved on. But being in his presence brings everything back, and I don't feel happy with that."
Jungkook nods in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
Feeling a wave of gratitude, you offer a small smile before suggesting, "I'll wash the dishes."
Jungkook nods, his expression softening. "I'll go edit some photos," he offers, rising from his seat.
With a silent understanding, you both retreat to your respective tasks, the air filled with unspoken reassurances and a shared commitment to each other's comfort.
Tumblr media
Jungkook hoists you onto the counter effortlessly, gently slotting himself between your parted legs. With a quick peck to your lips, he reaches behind you to grab your cleanser, pumping it twice into his hands.
“I’ll put on some soft music, light a candle,” he begins, lathering the cleanser between his fingertips before doing his best to apply it to your face, “and then I’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep.” 
You simply nod, the sight of Jungkook concentrating on not getting the cleaner in your hair distracting you. 
“Why do you do this for me?” You whisper, genuine curiosity taking over you as you come to terms with just how delicately Jungkook has tended to you not just today, but everyday. Everyday for the past 6 years. The feeling felt foreign but comforting all at the same time.
You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, and as Jungkook dampens a face towel to smoothly remove the product from your face, you realise once again how lucky you are to have him.
“Because you deserve this, angel.” He pauses, grabbing a cotton pad and your almost finished toner. “You deserve to know that you’re also a priority.”
You melt at his words, leaning forward to gingerly press a kiss against his nose. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
You aid Jungkook in finishing your skincare routine which he confidently completes. An intimate silence envelops you and Jungkook thankfully doesn’t pierce it. You didn’t quite feel like speaking right now, your mind being loud enough. 
What would it be like to see Taehyung? Should you say yes? Should you say no? It’s not fair on Jungkook. It’s not fair on you.
“Stop thinking about seeing hyung, Jagi.” Jungkook scolds, offering you a cheeky smile at the same time.
“I hope you know that there’s no fee-”
“I know; I trust you.”
“But-”
“And you trust me.” 
He swiftly lifts you from the counter, and you cling to him like a koala as he carries you to your bedroom. Upon entering, a gentle breeze hits your bare legs which makes you cling to Jungkook stronger, eliciting a small chuckle from the man.
Softly, he lies you on the mattress before joining you underneath the crisp duvet.
“Sing to me,” you whisper as Jungkook pulls you onto his bare chest. You nuzzle into him, basking in the warmth he holds.
“I was thinking something else,” he whispers and he moves you closer.
“And what would that be, Mr. Jeon?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what is brewing in Jungkook’s mind.
“I’ll just show you, soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon.” He smirks, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your lips.
As the moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you couldn't contain the flutter of excitement in your heart. The thought of marrying Jungkook filled you with a warmth that spread from the tips of your toes to the depths of your soul.
You imagined the way his eyes would sparkle with joy as you exchanged vows, and the gentle touch of his hand reassuring yours. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that your love was the greatest adventure of all.
“Hey, dreamer. Wakey wakey.” Jungkook laughs, shaking you out of your daydreams.
Dreamer.
A few years ago you wouldn’t have ever imagined having another nickname, but here you were, loving this one the most. Where does time go?
“Jungkook, my love?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Show me, please.”
With that,  Jungkook cups your cheek and moves forward to rub your noses together as his long, slender thumb caresses your blushed cheek.
In the room that is now twilight and shadow, Jungkook lies close enough for you to breathe in his alluring scent. His arms wrap around your back, and in one gentle pull, he is hovering above you, and your skin touches his. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. His hand then moves down from your cheekbones to your lips.
“Kiss me, Y/N.” Jungkook requests with his husky voice and you don’t need to be told twice, reaching upwards to sync your lips together. The two of you move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. 
Jungkook’s hands are all over you with a vehement urgency, removing the black vest top you had worn to bed. You pull back to admire him, moving his hair out of the way so you can see his beautiful eyes. With a laugh, he brings his face closer to yours, rubbing your noses together, letting your giggles echo inside his safety cocoon. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another.
“My prettiest angel.” he whispers in your ear.
And then the heated kissing starts again.
Jungkook showers you with kisses, each one different from the last. He pulls you closer to him by your waist as he lets his hands roam your body freely. Jungkook bends down, brushing his lips gingerly over your cheek.
Despite it being a light touch, he still manages to send euphoric sensations through your nerves, making you shiver. The control this man has over you through the subtlest forms of love, is something you still cannot encapsulate.
“If you want us to stop, tell me now.”
You remain silent as he brushes his lips against your temple.
“Or now.” he mutters as he traces the line of your cheekbone with his index finger.
“Or-”
You reach up to interrupt him, pulling him down to collide your lips together, the rest of his words lost against your mouth. Jungkook kisses you gently, carefully as if you were made of porcelain and would break easily. And that’s exactly what you love about Jungkook.. how tender he is with you. How he always makes sure you’re comfortable enough to proceed.
You knot your fist in his hair, pulling Jungkook against you harder. After waiting for so long, a gentle kiss was not going to satisfy your needs. He groans softly, low in his throat, and his arms circle you, gathering you closer against him all whilst beginning to remove the remaining articles of unnecessary clothing that adorn the two of you.
Jungkook’s tongue licks a long stripe down your neck as his fingertips are whisked away in your hair. He holds the back of your head gently in place as he decorates your skin with deep purple stains of ardent worship, as though you’re his canvas. You hug him close to your throat and your naked breasts rest against his bare chest as you grind yourself up against him. Jungkook cups your face, bringing you to face the deep pink hues of his swollen lips as he presses a searing kiss that has you groaning into his mouth. Jungkook indulgently hums into the kiss, the sheets becoming messier as he leans forward, moving himself against you.
You mouth at him sensually as he tightens his grip on your torso, being sure to dote on each part of your skin he roams. He traces his finger down your chest, his lips following shortly after as he cherishes each inch of your skin. He stops at your breasts, breathing deeply on the already hardened nipples. You tug at his soft tresses as he groans against your nipples, before he begins kissing from the valley of your breasts.
“God, I love your tits.” He sighs out as he shifts towards your nipple, taking the hardened peak into his hot mouth. You arch against him, moaning pleasurably as you massage his scalp. It had been so long since you and Jungkook had time to be this close… this intimate.
Hearing you moan so audibly has Jungkook smirking against your soft skin, your reaction spurring him on. The way he was prodding at your nipple with his sinful tongue had you so utterly lost in his ministrations. He was sure to fondle your neglected breast, bringing his hand up to knead it. The pressure of his skillful tongue and the softness of his palm had you sighing out in bliss. Your moans filled the dimly lit room as you writhed underneath the man providing you with utmost pleasure, realising that this is just the beginning of his ministrations.
You pull Jungkook back against your lips, crashing them together once again. His slightly rough stubble rubbed against your skin in the most delicious way, far from uncomfortable. Jungkook cinched you further into him as he felt the silken strands of your hair. Stopping the soft assault against your mouth, he pulled back.
“I love you Jagi. I really do.”
You stared back at him, swollen lips, messy hair and watery eyes. Jungkook looked down at you through heavy lidded eyes, eagerly needing a response.
“I love you more, baby.” You whisper as you reach up to press a kiss between his brows. Your pussy clenches as your eyes are drawn down to his thick erection. The heat in your gut is only gushing more. You hear Jungkook click his tongue as he palms at himself in order to distract you from it.
You reach forward to grab, but Jungkook stops you before you can even do so. A simple shake of his head gives you the answer you were certainly not looking for. He can’t help but feel proud knowing that despite you both being together for so long, despite you both being in this position frequently, you still always managed to become amazed by the size of his length and what he could do with it.
But today? Today the air around you both is filled with a sense of shyness. It most definitely isn’t the first time for you both, but you’re so nervous you’d never know it. There’s something about Jungkook that lights you up from the inside. And something about you which melts all of Jungkook’s confidence to nothing at all. Touching him is like being handed the holy grail. Almost as if your heart is mended each time you are together even though you never knew it was broken.
Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and your heartbeat increases. He stares at you with deep respect and adoration, it almost hurts. No one had ever paid this much attention to you before Jungkook. No one had loved you like this. No one had celebrated you in this manner. Jungkook changed that. He stayed with you in your quietness and kissed the scars you hid from others. He is your greatest and rarest treasure. A blessing that brought you inner peace.
Jungkook’s hand that lies on your waist gradually makes its way down to your hip, stopping at the very border of it. 
“If I may?” He reaches forward and whispers before nibbling on your ear.
You nod and that was all the consent Jungkook needed. He has you far too riled up for you to even consider stopping his ministrations. 
“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” He pauses. “Going to show my angel how happy she makes me.” He breathed out.
“Guk-”
His actions interrupt you as he leans forward to suck on the sweet spot right behind your ear. You inhale sharply and he uses this opportunity to trail his hand down further. Jungkook himself may have been shy, but his doings were far from it. You felt yourself heat up as his fingers reached your nether lips, caressing the soft and soaked area.
“Always so wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N?”
The use of your name had you clenching your pussy, which wasn’t missed by Jungkook. He smirks against the temple of your head, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. 
“Is my baby feeling shy?” He playfully teases as he faintly  brushes over your clit, refusing any direct contact with the place you need him the most. Jungkook’s other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, bringing it to rest at his waist, granting him the further access he needs. He presses himself closer to you, gently rubbing over your clit. His touch ignites something deep in your senses, you grind into his hand wanting more.
“I don’t want to play too much today.” He simply voices as he pulls his hand away. You whine underneath him, dissatisfied at the loss of his hands. Jungkook’s quick to make that disappear as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, letting them rest there delicately. You slightly relax, knowing what’s coming next. 
Jungkook slides to rest on his lean stomach as he begins to kiss from your ankle upwards, his hand always just a little higher than the gentle kisses he presses everywhere. You feel your back arch in anticipation knowing where his sinful mouth will reach soon. Your head rocks back as he inches towards your core, ready to moan his name as he devours you wholly.
Jungkook breathes against your soaked folds making you quiver with arousal. He massages the inside of your thighs, attempting to calm your nerves. “Always so pretty for me.” He praises before reaching forward to press a kiss against your clit, making you shudder with  sensitivity. 
“You’ve missed this, haven’t you my love? Missed having my tongue all over your messy cunt? He asks as you run your fingers through his dark locks, tightening the grip on his scalp. You arch your hips into his eager mouth, striving to gain some form of contact. 
“Please.. Jungkook, please.” You breathlessly moan out, patience being a virtue you can no longer abide by. Jungkook gives in to your pleading, knowing that he too, needs to have a taste. Needs to subdue the longing of being deep within you.
Jungkook uses the tip of his tongue to lightly trace your nether lips. You squirm underneath him, moaning his name needily as you try to chase more of his tongue. Jungkook feels turned on seeing you lost in the clouds of ecstasy despite him doing so little. 
“Guk… please, I need more.” You impatiently whine, trying to provoke further action. And so he does. He finally accepts that he’s perhaps tortured you a little too long now. “If it’s too much, princess, be sure to tell me.” is all he musters as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He allows himself to latch onto your quivering cunt, sucking on your labia and making out with it to his heart’s content. 
He buries himself further as he skims with his lips, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as you mewl at the orgasmic sensations he provides. He grants you no mercy as he uses his masterful tongue to eat you up. Jungkook had missed this deeply. Missed seeing you lost in the throes of pleasure with not a single care in the world.
You buck your hips closer to his face, begging for more through your actions. Jungkook flattens his tongue against your cunt, sucking greedily on the pulsing bud, groaning at the sweet flavour he had so dearly missed. 
“Oh god, Jungkook please. I- I need more!” You give up trying to be quiet, chasing your high being your main priority at the moment.
“Baby wants more?” Jungkook smirks against you before he repeatedly licks up your slit, lapping at you shamelessly. Jungkook takes you by surprise as he sinks two of his long fingers into your leaking pussy. He curls them at the right spot and you whimper out loudly, gripping his hair tighter, not even considering the pain it could cause him.
“Jungkook.. Kook.. You can’t just..” You attempt to mutter out, but the excitement of reaching your high overtakes you and you moan his name instead. He pushes them in and out of you fast and hard whilst teasingly slurping at your juices. You know Jungkook is keen to make you come, and he knows he’s reaching his goal by the way your brows furrow and how you haven’t stopped biting your lips.
“Almost there.. aren’t you, angel?”
“Mmm, Guk, please. Please!” You have no clue what you’re begging for, crying out lustily. 
“My baby is so gorgeous. So beautiful for me. My good girl.” Jungkook coos at you, the praises making you need more. Jungkook closes his lips around your clit and sucks it hard as his fingers relentlessly fuck into you. You arch and attempt to push his fingers out. Jungkook understands what you need without words and withdraws them from deep within, instead harshly rubbing at your clit in regular motions, watching you squirt on his tongue and gush all over the sheets.
You mewl distinctly as Jungkook groans at the sight of the mess in front of him. You’re panting hard as he encourages you to continue releasing all your cum. 
“All of this for me, jagi? Come on, show me how much more there is. Show me how good I make you feel.” 
You gasp and twitch from the oversensitivity of Jungkook’s ministrations as he rushes to hover above you, pressing gentle kisses to your face and wiping the tears which had formed.  Jungkook praises you and you don’t fail to blush at his devotion, feeling a sense of pride wash over yourself as he repeatedly refers to you as his good girl. 
“Thank you.” you mutter as you reach to latch your lips onto Jungkook’s, him shaking his head no as he brushes the drenched tendrils of hair from your face. A gentle smile adorns his face as he whispers back an “Always” making you feel flustered all over again. You notice Jungkook looking a little too calm and peer down once again at his painfully hard cock. 
“Let me jus-”
Once again, Jungkook interrupts you as he grabs your hand, stopping it from reaching its desired destination.
“Not today, jagi. I don’t need your hand today.”
“Hmm?” You mutter, confusion written over your face. 
“I just…”
“You just?”
“I just want to make love to my princess.” Jungkook whispers against your lips as he presses his hard length against your soaked core, casting it against your slickness making you whine again. 
Jungkook kisses you so gently, so tenderly, you feel the grand amount of love he has for you through the simple movements of his lips against yours. The two of you continue to make out languidly, the moonlight spilling from your sheer curtains illuminating your surroundings, making it all the more intimate. All the more magical.
He leans forward pressing careful kisses to your bare shoulder up to your ear. 
“I want to make love to you, Y/N. I want to show you how loved you are.”
You bring your dainty hands to rest against his bare chest as he moves to rub your noses together. 
“I want to feel you, Jungkook. I need you.”
And that small whisper is all Jungkook needs as he wraps your legs around his waist and lines himself up against your entrance. Jungkook glances down at where your bodies are soon to connect and smiles as he prods your wet and desperate flesh with his tip. 
“Is this okay, jagi?” He delicately inquires, the warmth in his eyes making it evident that he only wants to provide you with utter comfort and nothing else. “Mhm.” You answer as you move your hands towards the nape of his neck, interlacing them.
Jungkook steadies his hand on your pillow as he pushes himself into your wetness, groaning pleasurably. You arch into him, familiarising yourself with his thickness, the feeling still somehow being foreign. The two of you curse as Jungkook nestles his cock into you, your tightness spurring him on further.
“I’ve missed this.” Jungkook moans out loudly as he softly moves forward to settle into you. “I’ve missed the way your walls clench around me.” You whimper at his words and the delicious stretch, your chest rising as you anticipate his next measure. Jungkook gently pulls out of you, only to penetrate you deeper as he hits your cervix. 
“I want to love you. Softly. Slowly. Take my time and worship you the way you deserve..” He groans as he glides himself out of you once again, your pooling wetness allowing him to drag himself at ease despite the tightness. You are already filled to the brim, the feeling of home apparent to you both.
“I want to kiss every inch of your perfect body. Love you the way you love me, my love.” 
You moan at his confession, tears threatening to spill as the thickness of Jungkook’s cock stretches you out flawlessly. You clench around him tighter which makes Jungkook moan, reaching forward to kiss you harder. 
You whine into his mouth, urging him to move.
And so he does.
Jungkook sets a steady and sensuous pace, pressing his hips into you keenly as he moves in and out of you in a languid manner. He presses sweet kisses to your lips and cheeks, breathing deeply as he softly fucks your dripping pussy. Jungkook looks at you with all the tenderness he could gather, moving his hand to slide at the base of your spine, pulling you further onto his cock. Jungkook presses your foreheads together as he continues his tender thrusts. 
“I love you so much, so much it hurts.”
Jungkook’s precious words shelter you. Protect you. Make you feel whole. They tend to your hidden wounds, caressing over them in the most soft manner. Your heart flutters at his confession, making you wrap your legs around him tighter as you rut against him trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts. The slightly harsh rocking of Jungkook’s hips provided your clit with the relief it needed. Your cum was already pooling beneath you as he kissed the tears of his passion away from your eyes. Jungkook takes your hand, resting it against your head, entwining your nimble fingers with his own. The slight breeze from the air outside and the warmness your room was providing was the perfect mix, making you feel all the more loved. All the more safe with him. 
Your mouths were leaving sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, your sweaty bodies entangled together and your breasts suffused with red from Jungkook’s earlier doings. The both of you felt divine, the wetness all around you being your greatest evidence. The two of you were so lost in one another, so infatuated by each other’s presence, you don’t even realise the mess you had created. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, ensuring to provide you with the ease you needed. 
“I love this.. God, I fucking love the way you make me feel. The way you love me.” You spill, making Jungkook penetrate you deeper. Words were hard to muster and so you refrain from speaking further, simply letting your begging moans inform him how good he makes you feel. How heavenly he makes you feel with every precise thrust.
You don’t need to communicate, Jungkook’s hard and animalistic groans echoing inside your little bedroom are enough on both of your behalfs. He pulls out lightly, before grinding deeper as he presses his taut body against your smaller self, provoking you towards another orgasm. You claw at his back, wanting him closer and so he tightens his hold against you, kissing at your neck as he whispers sweet nothings and innocent promises into your sensitive ears. His rhythmic hips not halting their pace, sensually drawing you towards your end. 
“You’re doing so well for me baby, such a good girl.” And you know he means each and every encouragement that leaves his lips, a reflection of the pure love he feels for you. You thread your fingers through his hair as he sinks himself into you again, hitting against your g-spot, making your legs quiver and him grunting at the feeling of your wetness pooling on his cock. 
Your moans become louder and Jungkook recognises that you need more friction, bringing his hand down to rub against your clit. The sweet pressure as he perfectly thrusts into you has you curling your toes, the feeling of him stretching you wide and making you more wet was exactly all you needed right now. “Almost done, I promise. My baby is so perfect. isn’t she?” He hummed against the temple of your head. 
“Jungkook.” You moan in utter euphoria as he picks up his pace, slamming into you with  completely new force, ensuring he syncs with the thumbing against your clit. Jungkook begins to move harsher, ramming into you hard, hitting each pleasurable spot whilst holding your body down with his strong yet soft hands. 
His actions contrast with the softness of his kisses and the integrity of the loving praises he showers you with. His eyes never once leave you, watching you bite your lips, watching your eyes become more watery, watching the sweat begin to form at your baby hairs.
Jungkook swears he has never seen a sight so gorgeous, so breathtaking. You reach to cup his cheek, telling him repeatedly how much you love him and he gently nods at you, a shy smile breaking out on his face while his pace inside you never changes. 
Your hands find Jungkook’s toned back once again, scratching down it as you feel your insides constrict, the coil threatening to break as Jungkook’s pelvis and skin hits against yours repeatedly. You melt into his body as you seek the comfort Jungkook provides you with his sweet, blissful love. You both moan in sync and mirror each other's expressions as you internally thank the heavens above for the love that has been graced upon you. 
A series of ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re all mine’ are heard from the two of you as Jungkook paints your insides white. You feel his cock pulsing as he fills you to the very brim, eliciting a distinct whimper out of you. You leak your wetness all over yours and Jungkook’s legs as he rests his head against your shoulder, telling you that you’ve done well through kisses on your warm skin. Jungkook pushes into you harder as if he wants you both to be one just a little longer. As if he wants to melt into you completely. You run your fingers through his damp hair as he finally stills.
“You always feel so amazing.” Jungkook chuckles, evoking a giggle out of you. He slips his softening cock out you carefully, being sure not to hurt you. You wince slightly at the loss of close contact, wanting to experience this all again. Jungkook pecks your lips before moving to rest next to you, splaying his hand against your stomach and resting his chin on your shoulder.
He had moved from Busan to Seoul. Travelled from America to Europe. Europe to Asia. He had felt safe, secure and content wherever he went. Yet the feeling of home, the feeling of evermore was only ever found with you.
“You’re mine.” You softly whisper.
“I’m all yours.”
Tumblr media
The room is now silent, the only noise being heard is the deep panting coming from the both of you and the rain that patters against your window. Cleaning your surroundings and yourselves is far from your mind, Jungkook’s presence and warmth being the only aftercare you need. You wrap your arm around him and nuzzle into his neck as he pulls you closer, straightening what he can of your tousled hair. The breeze from the outside world cools you both down, bringing in a sense of balance; the wisdom to move yet at a steady pace. 
You and Jungkook both have your eyes closed, calming down from your highs whilst resting in one another’s embrace. You feel yourself finally drifting away to dreamland in the presence of your safe place. The beginning of this new spring day was like a love song, one that morphed from a melancholy slowness to a happier and more uplifting tune.
The two of you are relaxed, as the early spring breeze brings for you a sense of hope. An awakening magic inhabits the room, a sensation of an old-spirit rekindling and seeking to knit together all that is good. 
Feeling at peace in the arms of your lover, you know you are safe. Jungkook presses you against himself firmly and before you slip away to a more tranquil mindset, you feel a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead and you know that you are in a flower meadow with Jungkook, surrounded by the colour of his love for you. The thousands of petals representing the thoughts he had. Feeling at ease, you settle well into him.  Every muscle’s tension, lost to the calm ripened air. 
You are home. 
You always are, when you’re with him.
Tumblr media
And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated <3
Until next time,
🤍
315 notes · View notes
xzaddyzanakinx · 14 days
Text
Not That Kind of Guy
Part Fifteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, Gunplay, mention of past rape, homophobic comments GEN. SMUT [All possible tags, not all apply]
Info: Ghost = kinky, your petty plans are interrupted, frat guys are the worst, if any male says 'tomcattin'' run, very, very fast; as a southern gal trust me on this one, sudden remembrance that Ghost is a criminal [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
Tumblr media
Date & Time
September 3rd, 11:45
“Wine coolers in the hot tub, yes ma’am.” Luke sighed, leaning back against the rounded wall right in front of one of the jets, letting it pelt his back.
“You can’t stay in for long Luke it’ll irritate your sunburn.” Your sister spoke up, snatching the vape from your hands and hitting it.
“I know that, mother.” He grumbled, enjoying it while he could despite the nagging. He looked over to you and rolled his eyes when he saw you texting what he assumed was Anakin.
“Seriously?” Luke whined, reaching out for your phone but you held it up and away from him with a scowl.
“Leave me be.” You huffed, “I’m plotting.”
“Plotting?”
“Yes. Your demise.” You grinned and smiled wider when your sister snorted and covered her mouth, the drunken giggles making it more funny than it was.
“Shut up. You’re sexting Anakin aren’t you?” Luke smirked, putting his arms up to rest on the lip of the hot tub.
“So what if I am?” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You made me take a picture of you after you’d practiced flexing your non-existent abs.”
“Okay and?” Luke snapped, waving you off.
“And? You’re a whore just like me.” You smirked, laughing at Luke’s face. His mouth dropped open and he raised his eyebrows in feigned shock.
“That’s a low blow.” He shook his head.
“Mhm.” You nodded, finishing up your text and sending it off. “Like the one you gave Han under the dinner table?”
“Luke!” Lauren gasped, leaning forward and nearly tipping her drink into the bubbling water. “You did not!”
“Hey! Hey, shut it-“ He smacked at your shoulder with beet red cheeks.
“Well it was a low blow wasn’t it?” You giggled, your face almost sore from laughing at his spluttering voice as he tried to talk his way out of it.
“I told you that in confidence!” Luke muttered, embarrassedly shifting away from you to sulk.
“Shhh,” you reached over to pat his shoulder. “It’s nothing compared to what I’ve done.”
“Do tell.” Your sister prodded, shimmying her shoulders and giving you a cheeky expression.
“Absolutely not.” You broke out into a laugh, surprised at yourself for letting the alcohol loose your lips. “Shouldn’t have even said that.”
“I knew it.” Lauren said, scrunching up her nose and pointing at you. “I knew Ani was a freak. You owe me money Lukey.”
“What?” Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “You bet on my sex life?”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of your belly, rumbling and clawing at the sensitive little insecurities that resided there. You looked around you, scanning the tree line but not seeing the man you were looking for. Grabbing your phone you switched it off, your intuition telling you this wasn’t a conversation Ghost needed to hear.
“My husband SWEARS he saw Anakin walking into a sex shop a while back.” Your sister said, a prideful smile on her face. “Luke was with me when he mentioned it and Luke said ‘No way. He’s too calm.’ and I said that those are the ones you gotta watch out for.”
“So, Lukey owes me $5.00.” She clapped her hands once and rubbed her palms together.
“Did… are you sure?” You asked, your voice a bit louder than you meant it to be, so you dialed it back a bit. “Like he was for sure it was Anakin?”
“I mean… I wasn’t there. But he saw someone who dresses like him. Black hair, tall. Long sleeves though so didn’t see his tattoos.” You sister explained. “He only saw the back of him. But he was pretty sure it was him.”
“W-why didn’t you say something to me?” You asked, getting irritated at her nonchalance.
“I didn’t want to embarrass you!” She scoffed, “what’s your problem?”
“I- I don’t know… I’m sorry.” You shook your head and crossed your arms, taking another big swig of your drink. “How long ago was this?”
“I don’t know, a week or two? Something like that.” She shrugged, making eye contact with Luke nervously. “Why?”
“Nothing.” You said again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Nevermind.”
“I- I’m sorry. Did I make you upset?” Your sister asked, grimacing.
“No.” You shook your head, looking out over the lake at the warm orangey red reflected by the setting sun. “No… I just- I’m thinking too much into this.” You took another big swig of your drink and coughed from the bitterness.
“Oh no…” Luke said quietly, looking over at your sister and back to you as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Hey, no. Don’t… there’s no reason to worry, Anakin isn’t like that. He loves you too much. He’s not that kind of guy.”
“I know that!” You huffed, leaning your head back in a deep groan. “But… you always said he was too good to be true! What- I mean he is a bartender.”
“Quit. You’re working yourself up over nothing sissy.” Lauren said, scooting closer to put an arm around you. “Maybe he just hasn’t found the right time to introduce… whatever it was he got. Or maybe it wasn’t even him! It’s okay.”
“Logically I know you’re right. But… but there’s something, I mean I’ve always felt like I wasn’t the best person for him,” you admitted sadly, thinking about your secret trysts with Ghost. “maybe he’s just finally figuring that out for himself.”
Could you have really been so caught up in your hidden life that you’d missed the signs of Anakin becoming more distant? He still always texted when he got home. He still always answered when you called. He still told you in detail about his shifts at work. You’d seen him turn a girl down twice.
It doesn’t make sense. Of course it doesn’t make sense, because Anakin would never do something like that. He would never act like you.
Pushing your guilt and shame onto him like this only heightened the insecurities, what if he is cheating because he suspects that you are?
“Aright, I think that’s enough.” Luke said, gently taking the beverage from your hand and sitting it aside. “Let’s go get some food in your belly, yeah?”
You nodded, standing up and letting the water drip off you for a moment before stepping out of the hot tub. You grabbed your phone and walked into the cabin without even wrapping your towel around you. Tipsy-stumbling into your room you grabbed shorts and a shirt along with a sweatshirt, going back to the bathroom to rinse off the chlorinated water with a quick shower.
Not bothering to wash your hair, you were in the middle of nowhere after all, you scrubbed up and rinsed off in record time. You hear a bit of noise and a soft thud before the shower curtain was ripped open and your face was grabbed by a leather hand.
Your natural instinct was to scream as your eyes widened in surprise, but hand had gripped you firmly beneath your cheekbones and over your mouth.
“Shhh- shut it. You outta be used to this by now.” Ghost grumbled, removing his hand only to smack you across the face with his other one.
“Where’s your phone?” He demanded, looking through your pile of clothes on the sink counter and finding it. “This isn’t ever supposed to be turned off. Do you understand me?” He said angrily, shutting off the water and pulling you out of the shower.
“Ghost! Be careful! Quiet, they’ll hear you.” You whispered, nervously glancing toward the door and yanking the towel off the rack to wrap around yourself.
“They won’t hear shit.” He said, nodding toward the door. “They’re still outside.”
He fumbled with your phone, switching it back on impatiently. Shaking it in front of your face when the screen lit back up.
“Never again.” He growled and grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you into the bathroom counter. With your phone tossed on the bathroom rug, he deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock.
“Do you understand me?” He asked, smushing your face against the mirror with one hand, his other on your hip to steady himself as he drove his cock into you from behind. A deep groan escaping his lips when he sheathed himself fully into your warmth.
“I asked you a fucking question.” He grunted, thrusting into you at a ruthless pace. Your ragged breath fogging up the mirror and gathering condensation as you tried to form words.
“Understood.” You whimpered, quiet and meek.
“What’d you say to them?” He demanded, pulling your hair roughly to tilt your head back. The motion so quick that it made you dizzy, you fumbled to pull your towel back up as it started to slip but realized it was no use, you may as well just let it fall to the floor.
“N-nothin’. Didn’t say anything.” You shook your head unable to look at him in the mirror, unable to look at yourself for fear of seeing your anxiety reflected back at you.
“You lying bitch.” His hand left your hip, reaching into the back of his jeans to pull out his gun.
He stopped his quick thrusts and changed his grip on your head, his fingers digging into the tender flesh beneath your jaw, squeezing the sides of your throat. The tip of his cock slowly, deliberately, nudging your cervix. It was uncomfortable, feeling him so deeply in such an odd position. The sharp ledge of the bathroom sink pressed into the soft tissue of your lower stomach paired with his deep, brutal strokes had you wincing in pain on the ascent and moaning with pleasure as he slowly dragged himself back down again.
The blood rushing through you crescendoed into a deafening roar as it swirled behind your eardrums, his fingers squeezing so tightly around your neck that your vision went blurry.
“Tell.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust. “Now.”
The next thing you heard was the sound of the gun’s barrel spinning, his grip on your neck loosened just enough to let you breathe and restore your vision so you could see him clearly when he pressed the gun to your temple. His pointer finger running alongside the barrel.
“Didn’t say anything.” You squeaked, your hands clawing at the faux granite countertop.
*Shk* *click* *click* nothing.
“Six rounds.” He said sternly. “That’s five left and one of ‘em has a bullet with your name on it.”
“Y-you wouldn’t dare.” You whispered, your eyes wide open in fear as you stared at the black eyes and gaping maw in the mirror.
“Guess we’ll see won’t we?” He asked, continuing with his slow pace, rolling his hips against you. “You trusted me with it yesterday, you don’t look like you trust me now. Why’s that?” He asked mockingly.
“Cause… cause you’re mad.” You whimpered.
“Oh, my Doe.” He shook his head, the cold and stone hard emotional wall he had up let out the tiniest bit of the warm comfort he often radiated. “I’m not mad.”
“I’m…” He sighed, tsk’ing before reinforcing that concrete wall to shield you from his feelings. He nudged your temple with the gun again, cocking it back with his thumb.
“Why’d you turn it off? What’d you say that you didn’t want me to hear?” He demanded, pressing it harder into your skull.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whimpered, eyebrows furrowing, trying to shake your head.
“Did you tell them about me?” His thrusts getting faster the angrier you made him.
“No!” You denied it quickly, thinking back to what he’d most likely heard before you switched off your phone.
“Really? Cause it sounded like you were getting ready to tell them all about how you love it when I treat you like a cheap whore.”* His words smacking you in the face with the weight of the mechanical timbre behind it.
*link to AI audio
“N-no no I swear I didn’t.” You said frantically, trying to steady yourself and plant your hands firmly on the sink’s edge. “I promise I didn’t.”
*shk* *click* *click* and… you’re still breathing.
“Four.” He grunted and relaxed his grip on your neck, your face turning a blue shade that he wasn’t a fan of as he realized he was actually choking you. You coughed, your eyes watering as you tasted a metallic tang in your mouth. You’d split open the cut on your lip again.
“I didn’t say anything about you Ghost I promise I didn’t.” you heaved, sucking in deep half-breaths as he continued to plow into you.
“Then what was it?” He started to yell and remember where he was, quieting himself and stopping his movements to listen for any sign that Luke and your sister had heard him.
“It was Anakin.” You wheezed, “I wasn’t talking ‘bout you. I was talking ‘bout Anakin.”
Ghost laughed, a big hearty chuckle, the chin of his mask touching his chest as he lowered his head and the gun momentarily. He cleared his throat and continued on with his line of questioning after he’d collected himself.
“M’kay, what’d you say about him then Doe?” He asked, languidly thrusting into you, the gun pointed at you through the mirror instead of directly at you.
“I was just… projecting I think.” You said, your eyes darting away from his.
“Mmm?”
“Don’t… it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, I’m over it.” You lied as if you’d been able to easily banish the thoughts from your mind.
“It’s not fine. I know you.” He said angrily, tapping the mirror with the tip of his gun. “Look at yourself.”
“Ghost- it’s really…” you scowled suddenly, realizing you weren’t the only one who deserved to be questioned. “How did you get Anakin’s ring?”
“I stole it.” He answered automatically and turned the gun back to you again, moving it slowly and he twisted his wrist to tuck the barrel beneath your chin. “I’m asking questions. Not you.”
*shk* *click* *click *snap*
His leathered middle finger and thumb slipped past each other, his middle finger snapping against the meaty space where his thumb connected to his palm, making you jump and eliciting another chuckle from Ghost.
“Three. You really want to risk more? You’re at half way Doe.” He taunted you as he trailed the cool metal down your neck, stopping to nudge your stiff right nipple before continuing its journey to the heated, swollen bundle of nerves nestled between your puffy folds.
“Shhh, listen.” He said in a low tone, letting you hear the soft *tik* as he hit the safety on the pistol. “Hate to hurt my pussy before I’m through with her.”
The sight along the top ridge of the pistol was just a tiny bump along the smooth metal barrel, but it felt heavenly against your hot to the touch clit as it throbbed and begged for attention. His hips pistoned forward, his thighs smacking yours while he rubbed that dangerously delicious bump in circles over your clit.
A sinful moan left your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head as a wave of goosebumps so intense that it prickled all the way up to your cheeks, passed over you when he lodged himself deep inside and rutted up into you.
“Dirty little girl aren’t you? You like this?” He laughed, tapping the barrel against you to make you flinch before resuming the movement that had your head spinning.
“N-no.” You squeaked, through your clenched teeth that mirrored the firm squeeze your cunt gave his cock as it pulsed around him.
“So you are a liar.” His deep voice rumbling in his chest.
“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, biting your lip and sucking on the wound leaking a droplet a blood into your mouth. “Love it.”
“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling like his legs would give out after hearing your admission. “Christ, babydoll.” He moaned, a fresh gush of your wetness coating his length as he struggled to keep hold of his sanity.
Ghost wanted nothing more than to consume you. It was a feeling he hadn’t ever felt before. A burning desire for something more intimate than sex. More intimate than a tender kiss. He was inside you yes, but in that moment even that wasn’t enough. He wanted to devour you, he wanted to flay his ribcage open and shove you inside, even then he wasn’t sure that would be enough.
He thought he loved you before. He thought that deeply rooted need for you was the most powerful love capable of being felt. But he reminded himself in that moment that you were a goddess after all and you’d finally opened up the gate to your own slice of heaven and invited him to push it farther and farther until he could walk in and plant himself there for eternity.
That’s what faith is right? An all consuming desire for more, more, more. To be the best, to be worthy, to be loved. And just trusting blindly that it will eventually be returned? Is this what he was meant to feel when his mother dragged him to church as a kid? Is this feeling what they meant by ‘bask in the glory of god’s love’?
Because this must be what it feels like to love and be loved by a goddess. He was certain of it.
It was an all encompassing feeling that was so intense that he stopped moving completely and squeezed his arms around you as tight as humanly possible, maybe even akin to the strength of something a little less than human and a bit closer to beast. His breath was hot, heavy and ragged. His embrace so tight that it pushed the air from your lungs in a squeaky wheeze, he didn’t stop there. He kept going until his arms were shaking from the strain on his muscles and the pressure of it popped your back in a surprisingly good way.
Only then did he slowly unfurl his arms. He’d unknowingly used you to give himself a temporary compression vest; the kind that calms the nervous system with deep pressure therapy. He felt so much, so quickly that it had completely overrode his ability to function correctly.
For the first time in his life, Anakin Skywalker had fawned.
“Can you be really, really fucking quiet?” He panted, moving you even before you could whimper out a pitiful yes. He guided you onto the floor, too hazy with lust to care about anything but getting as close to you as he possibly could.
“Hold ‘em.” He said, tapping the side of your leg with his slick coated pistol. “Just like that.” Ghost groaned staring down at you as you wordlessly begged for him to dick you down like you so desperately needed him to.
With the crooks of your knees in your hands you pulled your legs to your chest and out to the sides, prying yourself open for him.
“Holy shit.” He breathed out, looking at the creamy mess between your legs. “I thought you were wet when I fucking raped you. You should see yourself right now.”
“Let’s see…” he said, taking his cock in his left hand to stroke slowly while he used the tip of the gun to slide over your puffy folds and nudge your clit again.
The cold metal circled your entrance and it took every ounce of self control you had not to scream out when he pressed the barrel past your pussy lips, plunging it as deep as the trigger.
*shk* *click* *click* “Goddamnit are you-“
He looked down at you in a state of awe as he watched you cum. Your stomach tensed so tightly he could see the individual muscles pulling beneath your soft flesh. He didn’t even care that you were letting out a devastating moan, long, breathy and drawn out. Unmistakable for anything other than pure, absolute, bliss.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, gently removing the barrel before plunging his thick length into its rightful place. He carelessly wiped the pistol on the side of your face just to humiliate you, but you were too out of it to care.
“Gods you’re beautiful.” Ghost spoke in a strained voice, even through the voice modifier it was noticeable. “So beautiful.”
“Takin’ me so well in this little fucked out pussy. Lettin’ me do what I want.” He whined, slipping his hands beneath you to grip your shoulders. His upper body keeping your legs pinned back so far that your knees touched the ground on either side of you. You felt him so deep, so extremely deep inside of you that if you weren’t already on cloud nine he would’ve sent you to an early grave.
“Gods, you sound so pretty... please shut up.” He panted, straining to cover your mouth from the awkward position his arms were in beneath you. “Shh, shut the fuck up. Please.”
“So wet. Squeezin’ me so tight. I’m gonna cum Doe,” Ghost’s hips thrust erratically, sloppily driving into you, pounding you down into the floor. “Want me to cum inside, huh? Be my little cumslut?” He grunted, the forehead of his mask tucked into the crook of your neck.
“Nasty bitch. Gettin’ fucked on the bathroom floor, loaded gun in your pussy and you just cum like the goddamn whore you were meant to be.” His hips driving into you in a way that made you feel him in your guts, but even that wasn’t good enough for Ghost he needed to be closer despite already cradling your folded body beneath him.
“Giving you a proper dickin’ aren’t I?” He chuckled, “too stupid to talk.”
“Mhm.” You breathed out from under his palm, just taking what he was giving without complaint because… what was there to complain about? He was giving you everything you needed and more.
The front door open and shut, the drunken slurring of Luke and your sister floating muffled and distorted beneath the bathroom door. Your nostrils flaring in panic, but Ghost kept going, shaking his head no.
“Almost.” He whined quietly, rutting into you at an unreasonable rate, only slowing when he pumped his load inside you, thick, creamy white mixing with your slick to make the most disgustingly gorgeous sounds possible.
“I… I will be back.” He panted, quickly pulling out and not bothering to even clean himself up as he fixed his clothes.
“Kisses.” He tapped the cheek of his mask with his pistol, waiting for you to give him a peck there before he tucked it away and stood you up on unsteady feet.
“I love you,” he squeezed your upper arms in his big hands, sliding his palms down the back of your arms to fold your fingers over his, holding them in place with his thumbs and bringing them to his ‘mouth’ to kiss. A gesture that sparked a nostalgic feeling in your stomach.
“Better clean up, we have shit to do.” He grunted, dropping your hands he hoisted himself up and swung one long, lanky leg out the window so he could land clumsily on his feet and jog behind the cabin and out of sight where he’d stashed his backpack, which happened to be a bit heavier than usual that night.
Tumblr media
Diary Entry: September 4th
I’ve never been more happy. My life just keeps getting better and better and it’s all thanks to you. I can’t even be mad that I didn’t get an answer from you. Jesus Christ.
Never in all my gross little fantasies did I imagine I would be fucking my girlfriend with a pistol. Good fucking lord I’m so goddamn lucky. It’s truly a miracle, this is something of bucket list pipe-dream. Now if only I could get rid of the thoughts that came after. Those aren’t ones I would be willing to share for fear you’d ship me off to a freak farm for an extended stay. Honestly I’m a bit concerned now, after that.
I’m supposed to take you over to commit some level crime (not real crime). How can I survive seeing that after what I’ve just done with you? I’m not supposed to ravage you in the woods, but I might end up doing that. Though at this point I’m almost positive you’d be willing to let me. Maybe I will.
Gods I don’t know anything other than I love you… and I need to be headed back toward your cabin within the next hour.
Maybe I don’t need to be afraid of telling you who I am anymore. That would feel so… relieving. Despite my best efforts it really does eat away at me on the rare occasion. I’m stressed out, I’ve kept this up for way longer than I originally planned. I love it, the separation makes it easier on me mentally. The fear of rejection is almost obsolete. Ghost is capable of things with you that would be relatively impossible for Anakin. I’ve been the best man I could be, everything you deserve and more. But now it will all seem like a sham to you won’t it? After being Mr. Perfect I’ve ruined my opportunity to be a regular guy who’s made a few questionable choices.
I am that guy. I’m a good person. A good man.
But I am also Ghost. I am both. I don’t think it’s sustainable to be separate beings for much longer.
Tumblr media
Date & time
September 4th, 12:27 Am
A tap-tap-tap on the glass of your window caught your attention, turning your head you saw the familiar plastic mask you’ve become so oddly attached to. Zipping up your black jacket you opened up the window and stepped up onto the nightstand beside the bed, much less gracefully than Ghost had done before. His leathered hands gripped your forearm and helped you pull yourself out of the window. Ghost thrust your very own small backpack in your hands.
“Hey! When did you grab this?” You asked with a tinge of annoyance. “Where’s all the stuff that was in it?”
“Chill out would you?” Ghost huffed, closing your window but leaving a small rock inn the tracks at the bottom to allow the both of you reentry later. “It’s in the top drawer of the dresser in there.”
“Ew.” You grumbled while following closely behind him. “Apparently you don’t know me as well as you seem to. You’d know I hate putting my things in places like that. Who knows what else has been in there!”
“Oh my god. You’re impossible.” He scoffed, reaching behind him to grab the back of your neck to pull you forwards to walk beside him. “I put it all in a gallon ziploc baggie. I do know you that well. Don’t ever doubt that again. Understand?” His tone was clearly annoyed, his body language changing slightly to a more guarded stance.
“Sorry.” You mumbled, receiving a grunt of acceptance.
You walked in silence, after a few hundred yards he finally relaxed again, slipping his arm over your shoulders instead of the iron grip he had previously on your neck. He rubbed your upper arm, as if apologizing through the comforting motion.
“Here’s the plan: We stake it out for a bit, see if anyone there smokes so-“
“Why would it matter if one of them smokes?” You interrupted him.
“I’m sorry, would you like to be in charge?” His ‘question’ dripping with condescension, tilting his head toward you with a small disapproving head shake. “As I was saying, We’ll need to see if anyone smokes. That way we will know how much time we have before someone comes outside.”
His head turning toward you again when you let out a soft ‘Oh.’ Of realization. He made a noise in his throat like he had expected you to say something snarky instead.
“After that we’ll start with the TP around the house, silly string the trees… then we’ll move on to chalking their cars. We’ll do it in that order.” He said firmly.
“Why? I figured we’d do the cars first, won’t they be closer?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“Yes. That’s exactly why we’ll be doing them last.” He said with a nod. “Why would we start at the end of our route? We’ll be leaving the way we come in. Easier escape if they come out, you know?”
“Oh… yeah okay.” You nodded, giving him a suspicious look.
Although you knew he was a delinquent, it still surprised you when there were these moments of clarity. These were the moments when you realized he actually was a real criminal and not just someone playing a part. It was easy to forget all the things he’d done to you, all the horrendously illegal acts he’d committed just to gain entry into your life. He made himself so likable that it was startling even when it shouldn’t be.
“Mhm. That’s why I’m in charge of this operation and you’re not.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder affectionately.
“How do you know this stuff?” You asked in an accusatory tone.
“I have a colorful resume.” He shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it but you weren’t satisfied with such a vague answer.
“Ghost?” You asked in a softer, less hostile tone. “Have you ever stalked anyone before me?”
“What?” He asked, stooping you abruptly by throwing out his arm across your chest. He turned to face you directly, keeping a pointed finger centered on your sternum. “You know better than that.”
“Why would you ask me something like that Doe?” He asked, a hint of pain in his strained voice. “No, no I’ve never… I wouldn’t. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone in my entire life. I risked everything for you and I continue to do so every time I come in contact with you. Do you think I’d do that for anyone else?”
“Wait- hold on I didn’t mean anything by it Ghost I’m sorry.” You grabbed his wrist in a gentle grip to attempt to ground him. You didn’t think he’d be so offended by the question considering how he answered your previous inquiry. ‘Colorful resume’ seems like the kind of thing one might label stalking under.
“What did you mean then?” He asked, stepping closer to you.
“I just… I guess I’m curious. I mean can you really blame me?” You asked carefully trying to navigate the conversation. “You know so much about illegal things.”
“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean that I’ve done it before.” He grumbled. “I researched, I studied. Just like you would do to get information on anything else.”
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, I know what I’ve done is wrong. I’ve admitted that before.” He said it like he’d expected you to forget his transgressions the moment he apologized for them.
“I have no reason to lie about this. I’ve lied about… that’s beside the point okay? I’ve lied about stuff before but it was only to protect you as well as my identity and its not like I enjoyed it!” He raised his voice slightly, pulling you along with him as he restarted your trek along the lakeshore.
“You’re right, you’re right I’m sorry Ghost.” You said ashamedly, feeling bad for questioning him. You realized now that it would’ve sounded like an insult or a straightforward accusation to him.
“I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t really think-“ You paused, hearing him take a deep breath. “I guess I should say that I didn’t actually think you’ve stalked someone before.”
“I don’t like that word you know.” He said, the voice changer crackling from the quietness of his words. “Stalking makes it sound bad. What I did or do, it’s not stalking. Stalking conveys harm. I’m the last person on earth who would hurt you. I watch you.”
“I suppose you’re right about that.” You nodded, understanding his approach. Stalking definitely was what he was doing, but it also definitely held a really negative connotation which didn’t fit the situation entirely, maybe in the beginning but certainly not now.
“I know I’m right.” He grumbled, shaking his head at you in disappointment. You couldn’t help but chide yourself for ruining the more upbeat mood you’d started off the night with.
“I- okay you know what?” He sighed taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve never ‘stalked’ anyone but you. But there’s other stuff. I’m so good at ‘this stuff’,” He air quoted. “Because I’ve got a juvenile record for a few small time crimes. Theft, Break and Enter, Assault.”
“Ah-“ He stopped you by clapping his unoccupied hand over your mouth when he heard you breath in sharply. “Not sexual assault. I beat someone up because they saw me doin’ something I didn’t want them to see.”
“Oh, well… okay that makes me feel better.” You nodded, believing him because- well why not? He was willingly sharing this information with you. He felt the need to explain himself and he was finally sharing some real personal information, possibly identifying information. Although there was one thing that made you doubt the truth in his confession. “So, why the rape kink then? And that’s not me accusing you of lying, I’m just genuinely curious.”
He chuckled, surprised yet strangely proud that you were brave enough to question that. “Good girl. See? I’ve made you a brave little Doe haven’t I? I figured you’d straight up not believe me.”
“I have no reason to think you lied about it. I mean, I know what you’ve done to me.” You trailed off, suddenly rethinking your choices to trust his word. He had sexually assaulted you in many ways on many occasions even if you didn’t admit it to yourself. Even though you didn’t want to see it that way, that’s the truth. “You told me about it, showed me pictures, so I guess i don’t have a reason to doubt you.”
“That’s one way to look at it I suppose.” He shrugged, swinging his arm back and forth as he held your hand. “Well anyway, I watched a bunch of horror movies when I was a kid. I had unchecked access to the internet and my mom didn’t check my rentals from the Blockbuster.”
“Rented some horror movie with a cheerleader in it when I was like eight, had some really brutal scene in it but, it was the first time I saw a girl naked so I think I traumatized myself. So, its really not my fault.” He didn’t sound the least bit ashamed at the admission but you can’t really blame him can you? You enjoyed what he’d done, you thought it was hot when you realized why you’d been so ridiculously horny for so long.
“I mean…” You laughed a little bit, unable to come up with a good response to this new bit of information you’d managed to dig out of him.
“Mhm.” He chuckled, “Any questions? I know you have some.” You could just imagine the grin on his face from the tone of his voice. It was clear he was elated that you took his word for gospel.
“Why’d you steal stuff? Break into peoples houses?” You had a third question, but refrained from asking for fear of being a bit insensitive and possibly a tad ignorant. Not everyone steals because of necessity.
“I don’t know.” He said with a small laugh. “No reason really, I guess just because I could.”
“That’s s-“
“Stupid? Yeah it was.” He laughed, the sound mechanical but with a rich timbre that was warm, hearty.
“So the guy you assaulted. What’s that all about?” You asked, looking out over the lake to appreciate the beautiful night waters while you listened to him talk.
“Right.” He sighed, his hand snaking beneath his mask to scratch his neck anxiously. “Well here’s the thing: I made some mistakes. I know that. I knew it then too.”
He looked down, shoving his unoccupied and jittery hand in his pocket before kicking a pebble into the lake, disrupting the serenity of the black liquid. He took a deep breath and tilted his head up to the sky, letting it out through his nose in an effort to reach into his mind and come up with something that didn’t sound as bad as it actually was.
“Alright, I was a weird kid. Believe it or not.” He chuckled nervously, trying to use a bit of self deprecating humor to lighten up the subject. “I won’t go into too much detail, because I personally don’t like to think about it and I’m sure you won’t want to think about it.”
“The long and short of it is this: I was 14 and I hurt some… thing. I was mean.” He admitted, skillfully being as vague as he possibly could. “The guy, some kid I went to middle school with, it was his dad that saw me. So I realized I couldn’t talk myself out of it, you know since he was an adult.”
“Well we lived in a subdivision and there was a big dumpster toward the back entrance, that’s where I was.” He audibly swallowed, you could tell by the way his grip on your hand changed that his palms were sweating beneath his gloves.
“Someone had thrown out some furniture, sawed a janky old table up to make it fit in the dumpster. So I grabbed one of the wood pieces and swung it at him.”
“If I didn’t have a real good lawyer and a therapist behind me they would’ve charged me with attempted murder.” He said in a softer voice, apologetic as he spoke.
“I was just scared. He was yellin’ and he was a big dude and I wasn’t the most buff kid on the block.” He said with a slight laugh, giving you a half glance as if he were afraid to see your expression.
“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Your words surprised him so much that he needed you to repeat them. So you did.
“Why?” He asked in confusion.
“Sounds like you just needed some help.” You replied with a sad smile.
In reality, Ghost was one hundred percent in the wrong, you knew that. Despite his age at the time, what he told you and didn’t tell you were both obvious crimes. He may have been 13 but he admitted he knew it was wrong even then.
He wasn’t apologetic because he felt bad about it. He was apologetic because he hated that you had to hear it.
The information wasn’t a groundbreaking story, nor was it an earth shattering revelation that you would’ve never expected to hear from him. Were you surprised he’d shared the information with you? Absolutely, but, surprised about the content? Not at all.
You had more questions.
What was the ‘something’? Why was he there? Why did he do it? What exactly did he do? It must’ve been something serious for him to reflexively clock a grown man with a wooden plank. None of those were questions you really wanted to ask though. You were curious, just not curious enough to willingly soil your gold plated version of him if you didn’t have to.
“Did you get charged for the other thing?” You asked, thinking that might be enough to quench the curiosity.
“No I didn’t.” He shook his head. “My lawyer handled it. I didn’t go to Juvy either like I should’ve.” He clicked his tongue, kicking at another rock. “Some how the lady got the judge to agree to me ‘serving’ out my time in a state school for little shitheads. I spent 8th through 10th grade with kids who were just as bad or worse than I was. Summers doing ‘volunteer’ work, which is just legal jargon for unpaid child labor.”
“I guess the state thought if I was too tired from digging ditches and doing grunt work, then I’d be less inclined to reoffend.” He shrugged, crouching down in front of you when he saw you were getting a bit tired of walking.
You climbed up, holding onto his shoulders and letting him hoist you up on his back. Those strong hands of his gripping the backs of your thighs.
“Did it work?” You asked, resting your chin atop his head.
“Well I certainly haven’t hit anyone with any furn- er well a piece of a table since then.” He laughed nervously, thankful you couldn’t see the horribly worried look he had on his face.
“So when did you do all the breaking and entering? Before or after?” You asked.
“Both.” He said simply.
You could tell the conversation was wearing on him in a way that seemed unpleasant. You didn’t want him to have a dampened mood just because you’d pried to hard. This was immense progress, he’d never shared this much about himself before and you didn’t want to ruin the chance of it happening again.
You allowed the flow of exchange to trickle into a complete stop. Letting him piggyback you in silence while you finally took an opportunity to scan your surroundings. When you did, you realized just how far you’d walked, you could see your cabin from across the lake, caddy-cornered to your current position but it wouldn’t be much longer until you were staring staring at it from in front of your target.
------------------------------------------------------------
“Alright, hop down baby Doe.” He patted your hip, motioning you to crouch down behind the bushes with him to survey the area and figure out a time frame in which you could safely trash the place.
“How long will we wait?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for balance.
“Thirty minutes should do it.” He said quietly, watching the front door and the movement in the soft yellow lighting filtering through the curtains in the cabin. “Most people, especially if they’re drunk, chain smoke or at the very least every fifteen to thirty minutes.”
“You smoke don’t you?” You asked him and he tilted his head toward you with a light laugh.
“Yeah I do. How’d you know?” He asked, you could hear the smile in his voice.
“You taste like it sometimes.” You admitted with a sheepish grin.
“Aright Doe.” Ghost nodded, “what brand?”
“Huh?” You looked at him with confusion, how in the hell were you supposed to know that?
“C’mon. I know you’ve smoked before. They all taste different.” He teased, turning his attention back to the front door. “Menthol or regular?”
“Regular.”
“Good, that one was easy.” He laughed, nodding for you to go ahead with your next guess.
“Marlboro Red.” You said with a grin.
“Damn. Look at you, fuckin’ creep.” He laughed and reached over to squeeze your knee.
“I only know that cause of A- er well, never mind.” You cut yourself off, scowling at the fact you’d almost mentioned Anakin in front of him. Anakin had already unknowingly salted your mood earlier in the night and there was no reason to rehash that unsavory moment now.
“Oh, right.” Ghost nodded, shifting slightly to kneel. He pulled his phone from his pocket, turning the screen away from you before slipping it back in his pocket. “Let’s go babydoll.” He whispered, pulling you up by your arm.
“Need to piss before we toss this toilet paper all over the place?” He handed you a roll from his backpack with a childish giggle.
“No thank you.” Shaking your head he motioned for you to crouch down again, staying low and out of sight from the window. The closer you got to the cabin, the louder the music inside grew.
“Wanna look inside?” He asked as he tapped your shoulder, “See what a boy sleepover looks like?”
“Bet they’re all half naked, pillow fightin’ and giggling like school girls.” He snickered at the way you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.
Raising up from your hiding spot you peeked in the window through a tiny sliver of space in between the curtains. Inside were the group of frat boys that had pestered you earlier in the day. Although they were not having a lusty pillow fight, they were doing something just as bad, maybe worse.
“Ah! Oh my god.” You squeaked and covered your eyes, turning away quickly.
“What? Did they see you?” Ghost gripped your upper arm and moved you out of the way to have a look for himself, his hand poised and at the ready to pull out his knife. Instead, he snorted and fell to his hands and knees. “Shit, sorry I should’ve looked first.”
“I’ve heard of strip poker, but I’ve never heard of strip pong.” You shivered, knowing you’d never be able to erase that tainted image from your brain. Four mostly nude guys playing beer pong was not on your list of deviant activities for the night.
“C’mon. This just proves they deserve it, huh?” He stood up and dusted himself off, poking his head around the corner to makes sure the coast was clear. “Oh, almost forgot.” He said, pulling your pink silk handkerchief from his back pocket.
“Let me put this on you, just in case.” Lifting it up and tying it around the lower half of your face.
“Do I look the part?” You teased, one hand on your hip and the other holding up the roll of TP like a football.
“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “Giving Thelma and Louise a run for their money.”
“Shut up.” You giggled and followed him to the back of the cabin where he gave you a designated spot to stand while he ran back to the front.
Soon enough you saw a roll sailing through the air toward you, followed by two more. After hitting the ground and unfurling a bit more you picked one up and tossed it back over the cabin, repeating the process until all six of the rolls he’d brought with him were strewn across the roof of the small cabin.
You heard a sharp ‘woo-hoo’ whistled out into the night, following the sound to the side yard where Ghost tossed a can of silly string the size of a hairspray can to you. You watched for a minute, just smiling at the way he was so happily running in circles around a tree, spraying in one continuous string until the trunk was sufficiently silly-strung.
It was like watching a kid go to a playground for the first time. He was treating this like a play date at the monkey bars, hopping around with a spray can in each hand to aim as high as he could.
“What are you waiting for?” He asked, sounding a bit winded from his sudden burst of the human zoomies.
“Just… watching.” You grinned, grateful he couldn’t see just how big that smile you were hiding was.
He sprinted toward you, holding out both cans, spraying you with them as he chased you through the yard to the other side, where he hadn’t gotten any of the trees yet.
“Ghost!” You squealed when he caught up to you and pulled you to the ground with him. “Quit it! You’re gonna get us caught!”
“No. You’re the one screaming.” He laughed, hovering over you with his hands planted firmly on the ground at either side of your head.
“Not my fault.” You grumbled as he helped you back up, dusting your clothes off for you which was really just an excuse to grope your ass.
“Well it’s not my fault either.” He said, snaking his arms around your waist. “It’s just so cute when you run from me.”
He gave you a soft smack on the ass before sending you off to work on the remaining trees in the yard, leaning against the side of the cabin. It was his turn to watch. He liked seeing this side of you, a little adventurous, dipping your pinky toe into danger but still the same sweet girl he fell in love with.
“Next up.” He tossed the empty silly string cans into a pile in the front yard near the porch steps, replacing the one in your hand with a can of washable spray chalk.
“I call the truck.” He said, pointing toward a huge white Dodge Ram. He waved you off to take care of the two smaller vehicles.
Ghost took his time with red chalk paint to graffiti a tiny dick with a massive set of balls on the hood of the truck, it might be 12 year old boy humor but it still made you laugh. That’s all it should’ve done. Give you a giggle.
A graffiti dick shouldn’t really provoke intense thought should it?
It reminded you of how Anakin always said guys with obnoxious trucks were ‘compensating’ for a small dick. A weird coincidence, or maybe you were just still subconsciously thinking of Anakin and how he’d made you upset, so your brain was just selecting things that you associated with him and making them stick out to you.
You didn’t have too much time to think on it however because while you were busy painting the little grey Mazda with random doodles, Ghost had gotten the two of you in a bit of a pickle. He’d taken the time to consider smoke breaks, but frat boys are unpredictable off-paper. Mixing alcohol and stupidity often leads to unexpected activities and generally unwise ideas. In this case it seemed your group of targets had decided it was a really great idea to take a post midnight dip in the lake.
“Hey, what the hell is this?” One of them drunkenly laughed out loud after stepping out into the grass barefooted.
You heard Ghost’s boots crunch on the gravel before you felt his big arms scooping you and your bag up, packing you to the woods edge. He sat you down as gently as he could during his panicked scramble.
“Which one of you fuck-heads spray painted my truck?” A different guy who sounded familiar, possibly the one who’d spoken directly to you, yelled at his group of friends. He clumsily jogged over to his vehicle and climbed up on the driver side wheel to assess the damage. He laughed, thinking it was funny until he realized his friends were all denying responsibility.
“Wasn’t me man. We’ve all been inside with you for the last two hours dude.”
“Brandon! It was you wasn’t it?” The white truck guy hopped down from the tire and stumbled over toward his friend group.
“What? No!” Brandon yelled, shoving his friend away from him with a sloppy swing of his left arm.
“Chill out, it wasn’t anyone here.” The only one of the group who I sounded a bit more sober than the rest. “I know for a fact it wasn’t Brandon. He was chucking his guts in the bathroom for an hour and then he was playing pong.”
“Well who the hell was it then?”
Meanwhile Ghost was holding you still behind the bushes, trying to figure a way out of the situation he’d put the two of you in. He had just wanted some quality bonding time with you, outside your apartment and all had went swimmingly up till these drunken fools ruined it for him. He couldn’t just stand up and walk off, they were too close, especially white truck guy. There was not way he was willing to put you in harm’s way like that.
“Alright doe, just stay quiet.” He said, his voice low and dropping in and out of the filter.
“Ghost, lets just go." You whispered, tugging on his arm.
He grumbled, grabbing both you wrists and pinning you down. “Shut your goddamn mouth stupid bitch."
“Did you hear that?” One of the guys slurred, the voice coming closer along with a few separate pairs of footsteps.
Ghost held his hand over your mouth to keep you from nervously rambling. These frat boys posed no real threat for Ghost in a one on one, but there was a group of them and they were wasted, which meant they were a threat to you. 
“Listen, I’m sure whoever it was is long gone now.” The least drunk one shouted out to the rest of the group that had begun to walk your way. “We’ll clean up in the morning.”
“I’m not cleaning shit!” White truck guy yelled back to him. “I didn’t do this, I’m not cleaning it up.”
“Adam calm down, it was probably just some kids.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! They spray painted my fucking truck, Wyatt!” Adam shouted, stomping around the vehicles, crouching down to look beneath them for any clues.
“Maybe those girls will help, you know the ones from across the lake?” Adam suggested, thinking maybe the suggestion would calm his friend down, not realizing there was an angry Ghost bristling with irritation at the mere mention of you and your sister.
“Fuck ‘em.” Adam grumbled picking up a long stick to poke around in the brush surrounding the edge of the yard. “Those bitches are probably in on it.”
“C’mon man don’t be like that. They didn’t do this, you're just mad they didn’t wanna fuck.” Brandon laughed.
Ghost gripped you a bit tighter as he listened to them. He could call you a bitch, he meant it affectionately but these guys didn’t have that privilege. They don’t know you, they don’t have any right to call you anything, let alone feel entitled to the opportunity to lay their hands on you. Or your sister for that matter.
“So what?” Adam said angrily, “They were just actin’ coy cause that queer kid was there.”
“Just didn’t want the little fag to feel bad that they were dick magnets and he wasn’t.” Another one of the boys joined in, each word from their mouths making Ghost’s blood boil a bit hotter and make your stomach churn a little more.
“Bet I could go down there and get sweet cheeks in bed with me, make her clean this shit up in the morning before I drive her back over there.” Adam cackle laughed, throwing the driver side truck door open the keys already in the ignition judging by the way the interior lights turned on along with the beep of the indicator light.
“Sweet cheeks?” Ghost muttered, “They’re talkin’ bout you. See? This is why I don’t like you going places without me!”
“What if I wasn’t here, huh? What if these assholes rolled up and it was just you and your sister?” He whispered angrily.
“Luke would-”
“Luke would do his best, he would. But he doesn’t carry a weapon now does he?” He snapped back at you.
“No.” You answered quietly, muffled behind his hand. You definitely understood where he was coming from, but also not really. You went places without him all the time, of course he was always aware of your location and now he was aware of your audible conversations too. But, he wasn’t always there physically.
“That’s right. Now get ready to run.” He said quickly, shifting his weight to lift himself to his knees.
“What?” You said in a panicked voice, eyes wide with a sudden streak of fear.
“Just do what I say and it’ll be fine Doe.”
------------------------------------------------------------
“Remember that uh, that one chick from East Greene?” Brandon said, nudging his friend in the side.
“Oh! Yeah, yeah the redhead we did poppers with?” Adam laughed, jumping back down from his truck, shutting the truck door for the time being, the annoying dinging coming from inside the cab finally coming to a halt.
“Mhm, that’s not what I remember her for.” Brandon clapped him on the back, “What’d we call it? ‘Redhead n’ Spread’.”
“Hey, let’s not talk about that.” Wyatt cut in, trying to stop the conversation before it went too far. “Someone wasn’t there remember?” He nodded over to his right at a skinny, short guy in pastel golf shorts.
“Aw Zach ain’t gonna say nothin’.” Adam shushed him, “Not if we bring him with us tonight.” 
“Tonight? What’s going on tonight?” Wyatt asked him with a bit of confusion.
“Going tomcattin’.” Adam grinned, laying on his faint southern accent just a little bit thicker.
“Shit, alright.” Wyatt laughed, bouncing on the heels of his feet excitedly. “Let's get Zachary fully initiated.”
“No way, really?” Zach spoke up, hearing the tail end of the conversation. “I thought I still had another week left?”
“Not if you tomcat with us.” Adam said, cracking open a new beer. The group seemed to have completely forgotten the mess you and Ghost had made, obviously more interested in the plans they were making.
“Alright, well I’m not a good ol’ boy like you.” Zach snickered. “What the fuck is tomcattin’?”
“Well, youngin’.” Adam threw his arm around his friends shoulder and leaned in, poking him in the chest with his pinky finger before upturning the beer in the same hand to pour into Zach’s mouth while he explained. “ Tomcattin’ is when some eligible bachelors such as ourselves, go prowl for a bitch, or well, I suppose we outta call ‘em a kitty shouldn’t we?”
His buddies howled out in drunken laughter at his horribly offensive, demeaning joke. Now, they were talking about something Ghost couldn’t excuse or dismiss. It’s one thing to have a wandering eye. If he were to jab out the eyes of every man who looked your way, half the city would be eligible for a service dog. But this, this was different. This was a threat, not just the drunken ramblings of some idiot, this was clearly something this group, or at the very least, Adam, did more than once. 
“What’d ya say? Ready to corner a kitty?” Wyatt smacked Zach on the arm.
“Corner a girl?” Zach asked with a confused look. “You mean like, go out to the bar and see if I can find someone to take home?”
“Why the hell would we do that when there’s perfectly good pussy right over there?” Adam snorted, pointing across the lake toward your cabin.
“There’s two, plenty to go around.” Brandon chimed in, a sick smile on his lips. 
“Didn’t that one say she was married? I don't think they seemed very interested.” Zach said with an awkward laugh.
“Shit, they don’t have to be interested. As long as you’re interested that’s all that matters.” Adam laughed.
“C’mon don’t be a bitch Zach.” Wyatt elbowed him, trying to egg him on. “We’ve all done it. I did it for initiation, Brandon did it last year and we all hopped in on it. Might as well do the same this time right?”
“Yeah, don’t you wanna get some puss?” Adam laughed, rubbing his hands together. 
------------------------------------------------------------
“I’ve heard enough.” Ghost gritted his teeth, his fingers flexing in preparation. “Change of plans.” 
“You’re going to get in that truck and book it back to your cabin. Pack up and leave.” He grabbed your arm roughly, forcing you to look at him.
“What?” You whispered in surprise “I’m not doing that!”
“Oh, yes you will.” He said squishing your cheeks in his other hand. “Kisses.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss the cheek of his mask, pulling your arm out of his grasp. He hesitated, keeping those big, dark eyes trained on yours. 
“I want you to go.” He said in a gentler tone. “Please?”
“No.” You shook your head and crossed your arms in defiance. “I will not be stealing a truck and I will not be leaving.”
He growled, putting his head down and then looking back over to the group of men. With both of your hands in his he put the forehead of his mask against yours. He dropped your hands, pulling you against his chest tightly, cradling your head in the crook of his neck.
“Swear to me you won’t look.” He pleaded, sounding desperate.
“What are you gonna do?” You asked nervously.
“Swear to me.” He demanded, squeezing you tighter to put stress on his warning. “I’m just gonna scare them, but you have to promise me doe.”
“I promise.”
“Head down, don’t move.” He said, petting your hair and scratching your scalp with his gloved fingers. “This is for you. Just in case, gun’s in the bag.” He opened up his backpack to show you the gun and bullets and then shoved the rose handled butterfly knife into your hand, enclosing your fingers around it.
“Wait, don’t you need this?” You asked with a grimace, not wanting to think about the possibility that either of you would need to use it.
“I have two more.” He said as if it were completely normal to carry around three knives at any given time. You watched as he fished around for a ziploc bag full of zip ties, taking out a handful and shoving them in his pocket.
“Don't you dare do anything stupid, you hear me?” He grabbed your face with both his hands and pressed his forehead to yours once more.
“Yes sir.” You gave him a nervous smile.
“Now is not the time to be a smartass.” He grumbled, pushing you down gently to make sure you wouldn’t see whatever it was he planned on doing.
Ghost crept around the side of the big white truck, flipping out one of his knives from his back pocket in a showy spin. He jabbed the back left tire of the truck, a loud hissing pop coming from the pierced rubber. It was loud enough to catch the groups attention, their heads turning toward the noise. Ghost stood still, twirling his second favorite knife around the back of his hand by hooking it with his thumb.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Adam yelled, throwing his beer can at Ghost. It fell about three feet in front of him, a sloppy throw executed by a sloppy drunk. “You’re gonna pay for that!”
“I’m your vet, heard you needed to be neutered.” Ghost said, his filtered voice echoing through the trees. He walked toward them slowly, flicking his wrist to hold the knife in a back handed grip, running the tip of the blade down the side of the truck as he walked past. The sharp steel on the bright white paint scraped it off with a loud, grating, screeching noise.
“Alright, who the hell sent you here?” Adam stormed over to him and shoved his shoulder. “Those little shits from Delta Chi?”
“Mm, no.” Ghost grabbed his wrist and dug his thumb into the tender spot just below the heel of Adam’s palm. 
“Did you do all this?” Adam asked angrily, trying to twist his arm out of Ghost’s firmly closed fist. “You’re gonna clean this up or I’ll call the owners.”
“I think this mess is the least of your worries, Adam.” Ghost growled, shoving him backward and letting him fall to the ground, landing on his ass.
“Yeah?” Adam stood back up, stumbling on his feet and landing against the side of his truck for support. “You went to the fuckin’ Party City and think you’re some kind of big tough guy?”
“No,” Ghost grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the truck door, using his forearm to press against Adam’s windpipe. “I actually went to the Spirit Halloween.”
“Like you could take on all of us? With that little thing?” Adam laughed loudly, nodding toward Ghost’s knife with the small range of motion he had in the position he was stuck in.
“All of you?” Ghost chuckled, throwing Adam to the ground and following him so he could grab him by the hair, lifting his head to show him that all his ‘friends’ had left him to fend for himself.
“So much for frat loyalty.” Ghost laughed, kneeling on Adam’s back to keep him pinned down. He wrenched the man’s hand out from underneath him, splaying his fingers out on the ground in front of his face. “Listen, I know what you were planning to do. I heard you.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Adam yelled, putting up quite the fight against Ghost, enough that he needed to fully straddle him to hold him still. 
“Tomcatting, RedHead n’ Spread…” Ghost repeated, “You make me sick.”
“Oh whatever.” Adam spat, sounding strained as he kicked and squirmed. “Brandon!” He shouted, breathing in to call out again.
“You ever played Nerve?” Ghost asked, twirling his knife, returning it to a backhand grasp to stab into the dirt between Adam’s fingers. 
“Shit- Brandon! W-Wyatt! Get your ass back over here!” He squealed while Ghost threaded the knife back and forth through his fingers, stabbing it rapidly into the dirt.
“You know, one of those ‘kitties’ you were thinking about hurting… she’s mine.” Ghost growled, purposely nicking Adam’s thumb, making him yelp.
“I’m sorry! Jesus- let me go man. I- I was just tryin’ to mess with the recruit!” Adam panted, trying to turn over beneath Ghost.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Ghost grunted, slicing the side of Adam’s hand.
“Fuck!” Adam screamed, thrashing around, trying to bite at the leather glove closest to his face. “Brandon! This guy’s tryna kill me!”
“If I wanted you dead, you would be.” Ghost plunged the knife into the meaty part of Adam’s hand between his thumb and forefinger. He drove it all the way into the dirt below, trapping it there while Adam’s hand shook from the pain.
“Sorry, don’t have a paperweight buddy.” Ghost sighed, his tone dripping in apathy. 
Ghost fished around in his pants shorts pockets, finding his wallet and cellphone. He lifted up Adam’s head by his hair to use the face ID on his phone, once it was unlocked he scrolled through it, ignoring the whiny protests from the guy trapped beneath him. With several contacts and a few screenshots of social media accounts airdropped to his own phone he chucked Adam’s somewhere out into the yard. He then picked though his wallet, taking out his credit cards with his second knife, he stacked them together and chopped them up like he was cutting through a bar of soap.
“What the hell is your problem?” Adam cried, snot dripping from his nose. 
“You are my problem.” Ghost chuckled, taking the cash from the wallet and tucking it away in his pocket. Ghost grabbed Adam’s pinned hand, jerking it backward quickly to make the removal of the blade just a tad more painful. 
“God, would you shut up? It’s not that bad.” Ghost grumbled, zip tying his hands together behind his back, making him stand so he could lead him into the cabin. “Let’s go say hi to your friends.”
Tumblr media
 Part Sixteen
Tumblr media
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero r @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries s @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
299 notes · View notes