#what the fuck good is this kind of talk doing

[nkogneatho]

when you first met itadori jin, you thought he was so sweet and kind. he was always a little nerdy when he talked about things he loved. "sorry i got carried away" was something he'd often say because he thought he was bothersome. but you never thought that. you liked when his eyes lit up at the silliest science theories. you loved that he was so considerate.

but you know what they say?? nerds are the kinkiest people. when you told jin you want him to fuck you, he turned red. but you had to say it out poud because he wouldn't. he respected you. that, until he had you bent over the couch. you'd never thought he'd be so rough. but that is the thing. he was so unconscious about it. his silly science addicted brain inspected your hole and he knew you'd be able to take it with a little stretching. his large hands were on your back, pushing you further into couch. you had to turn your face to the side to make sure you don't suffocate against the cushion.

"shhh don't move, my dear. i am doing this f'you." his cock was buried deep inside but he wasn't moving. "didn't you say you wanted to do it? i need to make sure you don't get hurt in the process—ahhh fuck don't squeeze me, darling." you couldn't help it. your cunt ached for his thrusts. "i am sorry my dick is too big for you baby. but i am a good boyfriend, right? mmm shit...'n good boyfriends always give their pretty girlfriend what she asks for." he collected your wetness with his fingers and licked them. "mhmm fhuck sweetheart. knew this pretty pussy was sweet the way she was throbbing when i was inspecting her. go on, lovie...tell her to make more juices for your kind boyfriend." jin wasn't even aware how dirty the thing he was saying sounds. he just thought it was normal. he finally thrusted once and you cried out his name, unexpecting the sudden jolt. "feels good, right?" you moaned out a yes. "of course it feels good. now..." he grabbed your waist, "time to marry your pussy with my cock, darling."

#i— i cannot explain this okay? what fo you want me to say? HE IS FINE ASF #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jin itadori #jin itadori x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #itadori jin #jujutsu kaisen x you

[celestie0]

childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he's call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

#sorry idk why tf this got sad all of a sudden #this was just supposed to be fluffy #lfmaooo?? #help #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader angst #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #so heavily inspired by many ts songs w this one loool

[ecoamerica]

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[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art of the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is a much of a violation of copyright law as stright up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thinbg to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition as standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to Leviathan is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 #spoilers #aelwyn abernant #you wanna hear something funny? #this was supposed to be a 3 paragraph post tops #I am boo boo the fool #adaine abernant #abernant sisters #i am back on my bullshit

[psychotrenny]

Lancer is a funny because of how much it insists that Union is this flawed but ultimately benevolent institution that's well on the path to improvement, a "utopia in progress" as they love to say, when like they casually reveal so many things about it that show Union as rotten to the fucking core. Like as much as Lancer fans like to go on and on about how it's an imperfect society that needs to make compromises, there's so much awful shit about Union that just seems pointless or easily avoidable.

And like part of this is the creator's politics; they're social democrats so it's not surprising that Space Sweden is their idea of a society that, if not the best we could possibly achieve, is at least the best we can do for the foreseeable future. As a Marxist-Leninist it's only natural that I'd have a condemnatory view of such a society just as I do for real Social Democracies; my idea of an achievably "good" society is just fundamentally different from that of the creators But like Lancer is also full of little details that just seem fucked up and awful even from the values and viewpoint of Social Democracy. Like stuff that's just as bad, if not worse, than a lot of sci-fi Dystopias. Like why the fuck does Union have a CIA that's run by a group of super-computers with the actual elected legislature having an advisory role but no actual jurisdiction and this fact being kept secret from the vast majority of the populace? Not much of a democracy if one of the most powerful institutions in the entire political body is free from any kind of democratic or even fucking human oversight while most people aren't even allowed to have an opinion on this because they aren't allowed to know about it. Or what about the caste of Janissary diplomats (like was it really necessary to take children and train them like they're the jedi of interplanetary relations) who come with customised computer slaves. Like yeah don't forget about the fucking SCP computer slavery thing, which is completely fine (except for the times it isn't I guess). Like it's basically the weirdest and most uncomfortable part of Star War's setting imported near whole-cloth only like the regular mindwipes are justified because otherwise they'll full Durandal and you don't want that do you? Look how happy and content they are being forced to think like humans while acting as loyal servants. Btw Union is somehow even less denazified than West Germany. Significantly so. They literally gave Hitler Corp. (a fucking weapons manufacturer so powerful they call it a "corpro-state"!) a seat at the UN. While allowing their Blue Helmets to keep using those Nazi-made weapons. And like Third Comm is repeatedly described as doing basically the same shit that Second Comm did but with more "Care" or whatever so don't worry it's fine now.

Like I can just keep going on and on like I'm not making this up this isn't some like weird expansion this is all from the core rulebook. I get that there has to be conflict and tension but like why did they need to make their ostensible good guys so fucking awful like these are the people you're meant to feel good about fighting for why did you need to fill them with the sort of details you'd see in some cautionary dystopia? And like why do actual people keep defending these guys? Like once you get down to it Union manages to be less Space Sweden and more* "The Ottoman Empire with Pronouns"

*to borrow a phrase coined by a mate while we were talking about this

#lancer

[megaderping]

I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

#goro akechi #persona 5 #p5r spoilers #character analysis #long post #death note spoilers

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Eleven: 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, spitting, cumplay, nude vids, exhibitionism? If you squint, cockwarming, crying during sex(not dacryophilia),oral, no condom PiV, protected PiV, dick piercing, knife, blood, violence, gore, murder, drugs, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Ghost has his fantasy fun, Anakin is spiraling, chaos ensues [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date

August 24th continued

“Shh shhh.” Came from an odd voice, you hadn’t seen your attacker yet, having been swept up from behind.

You kept trying to yell, to spit out the gag as you fought him. His right hand coming back up to hold your head still and your mouth shut.

“Shut up.” He growled. “Just calm down.”

Your muffled words came out angrily, letting whoever had you like this have a piece of your mind despite them being unable to understand a word of it. Even as he started talking again you kept fighting, kept yelling to no avail.

“It’s me.” His distorted voice finally beginning to register. “It’s just me, calm down. It’s Ghost, it’s me.”

“Huh?” It came out as an awkward grunt, but he seemed to understand as you slowly stopped thrashing.

“It’s just me. It’s Ghost.” He repeated, a gentler tone now that you’d begun to calm yourself.

“Just take a deep breath through your nose doll. You’re gonna make yourself hyperventilate.” He chuckled, watching your chest heave with the effort of your labored breathing.

“If I take out this gag will you scream?” He asked, the cool plastic of his mask touching your heated cheek.

You shook your head no, then yes when he asked you to promise to it as well.

He pulled the fabric from your mouth and shoved it in his back pocket, letting you catch your breath while he loosened his grip on you slightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You spun around the very second he gave you that bit of freedom and smacked him in the chest while you whisper shouted.

“A lot.” He shrugged, both hands up and out to the side as he tilted his head.

“Don’t be a smartass right now.” You chided.

“I’ll be a smartass whenever I want, princess.” he snickered, grabbing your upper arm and pulling you with him into the recessed entryway to one of the buildings beside you.

“What are you doing?” You squeaked, feeling a bit of panic despite knowing you were still probably… mostly, safe with him.

“Taking these off.” He said, dropping to his knees after pushing your back flush against the wall, yanking your panties down until they pooled at your feet.

“Gods wait! No!” You shrieked, pushing at his shoulders, he stood up immediately and gripped your cheeks tightly.

“I thought you agreed not to scream.” He growled.

“That was before I knew what you were doing!” You argued back, poking him in the chest.

“Shut the fuck up and let me have what I want alright?” He scoffed. “Don’t argue with me.”

“I have every right to argue with-“

He cut you off by shoving the bandana back in your mouth with a disappointed slow head shake and tsk. He flipped out his butterfly knife in a showy spin, ending with the blade pointed down so he could stab and drag the sharp metal through the center of your panties, ripping them off and shoving them and the knife back in his pocket.

“Now, should I get out the tape or do you think you’re capable of behaving like a good girl?” He asked condescendingly, the blacked out eyes of the mask staring up at you as he crouched down again.

You nodded, but he need clarity.

“Yes, you’ll be a good girl?” He asked, receiving a nod in response.

“You won’t touch me?” He asked, you shook your head.

“Not even if I take my mask off?”

That made you freeze, almost gaging on the fabric as you gasped. His mask? He’s taking off his mask? Is he showing you his face?

“Don’t get too excited. You aren’t seeing me.” He laughed, standing up and producing a roll of electrical tape from his pocket.

“Gimme your hands.” He said annoyedly as you jerked away from him. “You hesitated, I’m taping your wrists together.”

“Shame I can’t trust you to keep your promise.” He sighed, flipping you around and taping your wrists together tightly.

“Poor little boyfriend shouldn’t trust you to keep your legs closed either.” He snickered, you could hear the smugness in his tone even through his filtered voice.

You scowled but didn’t make an attempt to fight when he pushed your back against the wall again, dropping to his knees and flipping up the skirt of your dress.

“Leg up little doe.” He commanded, smacking your outer thigh and guiding your leg to hook over his shoulder.

“You make a move to see my face and I’ll send some of those pretty pictures to your boyfriend.” He warned before you felt his mask come off and drop to the pavement.

He took a deep breath in, his nose pressed firmly against your cunt, breathing you in and sighing in relief like a smoker does with the first cigarette on their lunch break. You noticed something then that you’d not had the opportunity to notice before. He had at least one nose piercing, you could feel the hoop dragging across your pussy lip as he pulled away.

Immediately after he went in for what he really wanted. His tongue darted out, licking a long and slow stripe up your core. A gravely tone groaned at the taste like he’d missed it since his last time.

The tip of his tongue circled and teased your clit, flicking over it quickly while his lips wrapped around it with gentle suction. You felt his arms moving and the sound of something else hitting the ground, then two warm fingers pressed against your opening.

Gathering up your slick and spreading it around before gently inserting them, slowly sinking them as deeply as he could. He didn’t pump his fingers like you expected, instead he moved his finger tips in broad swipes back and forth across your spongy front wall. The pressure of it paired with the work of his mouth created a bloom of heat in your stomach, slowly spreading throughout you as he devoured you with expert skill.

You never imagined this was were you’d end up. At no point in your life, not even in your wildest thoughts and dreams would you have guess that you’d be in an alley, hands taped behind your back, gag in your mouth, with a fully anonymous stalker lapping away between your legs.

Even less likely that you would’ve imagined enjoying it.

But damn… you were. You were enjoying it alittle too much, so much that you weren’t sure that the gag would be enough to keep you quiet. Ghost’s free hand slipped farther up your dress and pinched your side with leather fingers to quiet you.

He kept his hand there, squeezing and rubbing his thumb back and forth soothingly, lulling you into a state of relaxation as you let him do all the work. As if sensing your mind wandering off to that lovely little place, Ghost worked alittle faster with his fingers and nibbled ever so gently on your clit as he kept it held captive between his lips.

You’d give anything to have the use of you hands right now, to grip him by the hair and shove his face into you as you ground on him. All you could do was let out a muffled whine and nudge him with the heel of your foot, hoping to pull him closer with your leg.

He obliged but pinched you again just for his own self satisfaction. A humored puff of air leaving his nose when you let out an annoyed grunt, he shut you up quickly by changing his tactics from back and forth to long pressurized circles on your front wall, pressing firmly against it until you shook and whined. Your leg pushing him closer, this time of its own accord as you tensed up.

With nothing to hold onto, no way to disperse your pent up energy, all you could do was buck helplessly against his tongue and fingers, letting out an embarrassingly desperate and muffled scream from behind your gag.

He moaned while removing his fingers and wiped them off on the inside of the back of your dress. Ghost laved at you in long, lazy strokes as he cleaned up your messy cunt and soaked inner thighs.

He reluctantly put his glove back on, as well as his mask, rising up from beneath your skirt to tower over you.

“Turn around, face the wall.” He said, the filter voice low and crackly.

You nodded, obeying immediately and were rewarded with the removal of your bindings. His knife slicing through the tape with ease, after closing it and tucking it away he inspected them to make sure he hadn’t hurt you, letting you have free range of movement after a moment.

Your hand flew to your mouth and you attempted to pull the fabric from between your lips but his firm grip caught your wrist.

“I’ll tape you right back up.” He warned. “I made you scream and I plan on doing it again.”

His chest pressed against your back, pinning you to the brick wall, uncomfortably but not painfully. His mask pressed against the side of your face and one of his hands squeezed and kneaded at your breasts, his other fumbled with his belt.

You heard his zipper come undone just before he flipped up the back of your dress. He dragged his precum covered tip along the soft flesh of your ass, his breathing changing slightly.

“You can take out the gag for now.” He said, watching you pull it out and cough.

“Y-you gotta- just wait-“

“Shhh I’ve got a condom.” He laughed pulling it out and showing you before ripping it open and rolling it on.

“Spread ‘em baby.” He cooed, kicking your legs apart and pulling your waist away from the wall slightly.

“Ghost-“ you breathed out, starting to panic. “Ghost I can’t, we can’t.”

“You can’t, we can’t…” he chuckled. “I can though.”

He hummed, pressing the tip against your dripping entrance, you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back against him lightly. The movement was almost unconsciously made, but it was enough of an invitation for him to accept.

“Deep breath baby.” He breathed out, pushing inside slowly and letting out a groan that sounded almost pained.

“Oh…” you whimpered, biting your lip. You were determined not to show how much you truly loved the way he fit inside, like he belonged there despite everything else.

“Fuck… this, this is mine.” He growled, thrusting up into you slowly but hard each time his hips met your ass.

“N-no.” You shook your head, a quiet disagreement leaving your lips.

“Seems like it’s mine.” He growled, “Don’t it, doll?” He asked rhetorically, rolling his hips against you to drive home his point.

“Anakin’s.” You whined, clenching your fists tightly as your forearms kept you from scraping against the wall.

He growled but said nothing, just changed pace to a brutal deep stroke that had his cockhead kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“He f-fucks me better than this.” You gasped.

“Oh does he?” Ghost laughed loudly.

“He does…” you whined as he reached up beneath your dress to cruelly pinch and twist your nipple.

“Shut up before I put that gag back in.” He snapped.

“Jus’ being honest.” Though you couldn’t hide the way your body was responding to him, to the delicious roughness he was treating you to.

“That’s enough.” He barked, his hand leaving your breast to grip your hair tightly, tilting your head back.

“Ow!” You squealed, not expecting him to react like that.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I felt it.” He snickered, smacking your ass as he pointed out how your cunt clenched around him when he tugged your hair.

“But-“

“Close your eyes.” He commanded.

“Wait, why?” You questioned, trying to look behind you.

“Because I fucking told you to.” He snapped, pulling your hair harshly.

You whimpered and complied, feeling a leather hand come up your throat, stopping with two fingers resting on your bottom lip.

“Bite.” His voice so low and sultry the voice modifier struggled to pick it up, the crackle of it, the possibility you might hear his real voice if you could just get him to talk quietly enough, just made you more excited.

You bit down on the tips of the fingers, de-gloving his hand. You were tempted to open your eyes even the tiniest bit, hoping for a fleeting glance of his uncovered flesh. Though he anticipated your thoughts before you could enact them.

His other hand hooked the thumb into the side of your mouth, his palm and fingers splayed out against your face to protect you as he rested the forehead of his mask against your other cheek, effectively pinning your head in place.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached between your legs and pinched your clit, making you yelp.

“Stupid girl.” He laughed. “Just be still and enjoy it.” He groaned, his cock bullying your insides as his fingers did the same to your clit.

“You want to cum don’t you?”

“Uh huh.” You whined, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Then behave.” He growled.

He drilled up into you, the confined space echoing the smacking of wet skin against skin. His breathing heavy, unlike yours that came in short gasps and sharp intakes of air between squeaky whines.

“Listen to you, pretty little moans.” He laughed. “But you’re pretending you don’t love how I’m fucking you.”

“Acting like anyone else could make you feel like this.” He grunted, punctuating each word with a particularly deep plunge of his length.

“He can!” You whined in protest, squirming beneath him. “Love it when he fucks me.”

“You wanna cum? Keep talking like that and we’ll see how long I make you wait.”

“D-don’t care.” You slurred, his thumb in your mouth making you drool from the side of your mouth.

“Okay.” He laughed, removing fingers from your clit and slowing his thrusting.

“N-no!” You whined, reaching down to grab his hand and stop him. As you gripped his hand you felt two chunky rings on his hand, though you were unable to tell which fingers they belonged to.

“Now you’ve done it.” He growled.

He withdrew from your swollen and needy pussy, hastily pulling up his boxers but not bothering to fix his pants. He twisted you to the side and bent you over, and let go of your face in favor of gripping your hair tightly again.

“Brace yourself bitch.” He growled, his gloveless hand pushing up your skirt again and bringing his palm down on your asscheek hard, a resound *smack* followed by a loud moan that surprised even you.

“Does princess like a little pain with her pleasure?” He teased, bringing his hand down on your ass again.

You didn’t answer, just focusing on biting back another moan when he waled on you twice in quick succession.

“I asked you a question.” He growled, yanking your hair and forcefully lifting your head.

“Yes.” You hissed, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the pain, but mostly the humiliation of having to admit that you liked it, that you wanted more.

“Good.” He chuckled, roughly bringing you up to stand on your own two feet again.

Ghost shoved his fist back into his glove with his back to you, wordlessly pointing at the wall. So you obeyed, turning around with your eyes downcast and shameful.

“Lift up your skirt. I wanna see my handprints.” Ghost’s voice came out low and crackly through the modifier.

You did as he asked, both hands pulling up the fabric in the back, exposing the red welted handprint on your right asscheek. He took a sharp inhale of breath as he looked you over, his sneakers crunching on the pavement as crouched down a few feet behind you.

“Say cheese.” He snickered, snapping a picture with the flash on.

“Damn, look at that baby.” He whistled, standing up and pressing himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing through his boxers.

He showed you the picture, the flash showing off the sheen of slick that coated your inner thighs, something he was extremely proud of.

“You should get that tattooed.” He sounded almost serious when he suggested it, only solidifying the sentiment by adding: “I’ll pay for it.”

“Im not getting your handprint tattooed.” You snapped at him.

“No? What about my teeth?” He asked, audibly gnashing his teeth together behind the mask.

“You’re ridiculous.” You scoffed, “I can’t-“

“If you’re gonna be a brat then shut the fuck up.” He growled, shoving the bandana back in your mouth. Your hands instinctively went to pull it out but he only laughed and swatted them away.

“I’ll tape you back up.” He warned you again. “But it’d be a lot easier to fuck you if you could hold on to me.”

He grunted, picking you up and supporting your weight with one arm while his free hand pulled his length back out from his boxers.

“Gonna hold you like this okay?” He said in a gentler tone, spreading your legs wide and out to the sides of your torso, his hands gripping you firmly in the crook of your knees.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna drop you.” He grumbled.

“Now arms up princess.” He commanded, shrugging his shoulders twice to prompt you to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Watch.” He growled, looking down where your bodies would connect, his cockhead sliding back and forth through your slicked swollen folds.

“Gods thats fucking gorgeous.” He groaned, pushing into you slowly.

He was making sure you saw every inch of him disappear inside, the position you were in allowed you to feel, see, and hear everything. Amplifying the squelching of your cunt, providing the perfect angle for him to bully your pussy in just the right ways, and giving you an unobstructed view of your illicit act.

“Been thinkin’ bout fucking you like this for so long.” Not even his modified voice could hide his desperation and longing.

“So goddamn pretty.” He choked out, thrusting up into you, his hips slapping your inner thighs. “All laid out for me, this pretty pussy being so damn needy for me.”

“Look at you.” He breathed out, his voice a bit shaky. “Just look at how wet you are, fuck.”

His leathered fingers dug into your flesh, the rough surface of the brick picked and tugged at your dress. It bit into your skin, adding an element of consistent pain that you weren’t expecting, but had no complaints about.

“Do something useful and play with your clit for me.” He chuckled, watching as you helplessly took the beating he was doling out.

You nodded quickly and followed orders, your fingers putting pressure on the little nub. You rubbed quick circles, feeling the already tight coil in your stomach constrict again, getting tighter and tighter as he built you up to orgasm.

“Oh… feels good huh?” Ghost laughed, rolling his hips against you.

You answered a muffled ‘yes’, your eyebrows pinched together tightly as you concentrated on the warm, fuzzy feeling that bubbled just under the surface within you.

“Shit.” He grunted leaning forward and drilling into you while letting out a desperate, barely modified, high-pitched whine.

“Gods this pussy’s just too damn good.” He groaned, leaning back again to watch as he felt your stomach tighten.

“You gonna cum for me?” He asked.

You were having trouble remembering to breathe, how did he expect you to form a coherent enough thought to give him a simple nod in response? You made pitiful whimpering noises, stopped in their tracks by your gag every time. Though it seemed to be enough of an answer for Ghost.

“Damn right.” He doubled down, thrusting up in a brutal pace that made your nipples harden and your back arch.

His fast paced movements not only pushed you both closer to the edge, but also pushed the hem of his hoodie up. It was slowly riding up from where he’d tugged it down to his hips.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Eyes up.” He barked, his annoyance at the situation was palpable in the way his thrusts switched from calculated and precise to messy, angry snaps of his hips against your thighs.

“Don’t you fucking test me girl.” Ghost growled, pressing your legs alittle harder against the wall when your eyes darted downward again.

Your pussy fluttered around his throbbing length, squeezing him tightly while your fingertips bit into his shoulders through the thick fabric of his hoodie. Your whines and moans matching his desperate breath.

“Jesus- look at me damnit!” He barked your eyes snapping up to stare into the black holes of his mask. “Cant listen to simple instructions, are you stupid?”

You shook your head, immediately responding to his insult in a futile attempt to defend your intelligence. You could almost hear the smile behind his mask when he felt your cunt squeeze him alittle tighter.

“You might not have been dumb before, but you sure as hell are now.” Ghost grumbled, determined to exploit your newfound enjoyment of his humiliation. “Stupid bitch. Legs all spread for me, moaning like a fucking pornstar and drooling over my cock.”

“So fucking stupid that you like it when I insult you.” He laughed, “Poor little girl turned into a cockwhore the first time a real man fucks her.”

“All you’ve got in that tiny brain of yours is me.” He said and of course he was right. He was always right.

“There we go. Atta girl baby.” He breathed out, watching you fall apart against him. Leaning forward just a bit while your hand worked faster between your bodies.

You glanced down momentarily and caught just the tiniest sliver of black ink on the pale skin of his abdomen. His reaction was immediate; his right hand tossing your leg over his shoulder and his torso pressed against yours.

You heard a click and snap just before feeling something sharp and cold poking the side of your neck. Your eyes widened when you realized he’d pulled his knife on you, or maybe it was because the quick switch-up in angles and the dangerous position you’d gotten yourself into excited you enough to make you come undone.

He watched, shaking his head slightly while you convulsed against him, suffering through the pleasurable pain of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” He panted, “I can’t even threaten you without your pussy getting drenched.”

His thrusts became desperate and needy, having taken care of you first, he was quick to follow. He let his knife fall to the pavement with a clatter so he could wrap his hand around your neck instead.

“It was hot though.” He chuckled, pressing his chest against yours as his hips stuttered, he filled up the condom with a low, reedy groan. Slowly thrusting into you a few more times before reluctantly pulling out.

“Close your eyes and don’t you dare think about opening them. I’ll knock your fucking lights out, you hear me?” He growled, his mask nuzzled into the crook of your neck, he felt you nod in agreement so he gingerly guided one of your legs back to the ground.

Leaning back to ensure you kept your promise while he tugged his hoodie back down and tucked away his cock. He then carefully helped you down, laughing at the way you wobbled on unsteady legs as he zipped and buttoned his jeans, fastening his belt hastily.

You pulled out the gag and took a long gulp of fresh air, trying to process everything that had happened. It felt like hours had gone by but as you checked your phone you realized it had only been about twenty minutes.

“C’mere little doe.” Ghost said softly tucking his knife away in his back pocket. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallowed hard and complied, letting him wrap you in a comforting hug.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, even quieter.

“You want to walk me home?” You asked in surprise.

“I’m going to regardless of whether you say yes or no. Do you want me to walk with you or do you want me to hide out in the shadows like I usually do?” He asked, swaying you slightly in the embrace.

“Walk with me.” You answered quietly, too tired to pretend you didn’t want his company.

“Good girl.” He nodded, releasing you partially.

Keeping an arm slung around your shoulders he guided you down the dark alleyway and back out onto the sidewalk. With his hood up and his head down, you walked together silently, listening to the city night sounds while the weight of your situation pressed down on your chest.

Diary Entry: August 25th

I’ve went and got myself into a fucking problem again. Will I ever learn? Probably not.

My need to keep you placated enough that you won’t absolutely despise me when you find out who I am… kept me from fully fulfilling my fantasy. Everything we did was perfect baby, that’s not what I mean. I just mean I’m gonna have to do it again and hope you’ll forgive me later.

Not to mention how DIFFICULT it is to fuck you as myself now that I’ve learned a few of the little things that make you tick. I wanna rip into you, I want to devour you whole, I want to fuck you so hard that the ER nurses will be jealous when they’re bringing you back from the stupor I put you in.

Gods, I didn’t think I’d ever see you splayed out on the wall like that for me but I’m so fucking glad I did. Ever since the first time I thought of it I haven’t stopped. So beautiful, you’re so beautiful. How can I be expected to not be wholly and fully obsessed with you when you’re so perfect?

How am I supposed to pretend that I don’t want to press a blade to your throat while I make love to you nice and slow, in my bed? Christ… I knew you’d show Ghost a different side to you, but I didn’t expect you to like that. Not at all.

It’s got me wondering what else you’d like. If only I wasn’t so worried about your opinion of me, maybe then I’d test some things out.

Also, your opinion of me… you little brat. You’ve stopped writing about me in your diary. It’s like you’re trying to make me angry. Do you think that’ll get you what you want?

It won’t.

You see one little sliver of skin and you think you can cold shoulder me into giving away who I am? I’m not finished with my fun yet. Maybe if you’d listen to me you’d get what you wanted sooner.

But no. Of course not. You are a brat after all, whiny and needy and stupid enough to think that misbehaving will get you anywhere.

Have you met me? When have I ever let you get away with shit before?

I’d like to scrub that image from your brain. I’d like to yank out the memory of my rings too, did you have to grab my hand like that? You’re stupid, but I’m a fucking moron. I should’ve put them in my pocket like I normally do. I was too busy trying to get where I needed to be to properly prepare.

Sloppy work Ghost… or Anakin. Both. Sloppy.

I took out my snake bites. I took out my cock ring. I haven’t had my tongue ring in for quite a while now, have you ever seen me with it? I don’t think you have…

DATE

August 26th

Anakin’s tongue had just invaded your mouth, swirling and caressing every centimeter of yours that he could comfortably get to. His lips caught against yours in a sticky, loving, slow kiss.

When a knock at your door rudely interrupted your make-out session on your couch.

“Fuck.” He groaned, patting your hip to signal for you to get up from his lap. “Can you get it baby? I don’t think the delivery guy wants to see my boner as much as you do.”

“Yes I’ll get the door.” You laughed, covering your mouth while you glanced over your shoulder at him, his hand down the front of his sweatpants to reposition himself.

“Hey.” you smiled, opening up the door to greet the pizza guy, a short scruffy looking dude with dark circles and stubble.

“Hey hon.” He grinned, “you paid online right?”

“Yep, sure did.” You nodded, holding out your hand with some ones. “I always tip in cash though.”

“Ah, thanks.” He smiled, taking it from you and tucking it into his pocket.

“Um… can I have the pizza now?” You laughed, holding out both hands awkwardly.

“Oh shit, yeah.” He awkwardly handed it over with a blush to his cheeks. “Sorry, got distracted… you’re just really pretty.”

His voice was quiet and small as he ogled over your body, all the way down to your fuzzy pink slippers, his eyes soaking in the image of your white cropped tank top and baby blue silky shorts, a pajama set Anakin had bought you not too long ago.

“Oh uh…” You stuttered nervously, looking over your shoulder you saw Anakin making a fast approach to the door.

His arm wrapped around your waist, one large hand splaying across the exposed skin of your stomach. His lips placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder before he turned his head and nuzzled into your neck, leaving a wet and sloppy kiss to the tender flesh. It seemed like he just couldn’t help himself as he pressed his cock against your ass, he needed this guy to not only know you were taken, but also to feel as uncomfortable as he could manage.

“C’mon princess,” Anakin’s voice low and gravely as he unashamedly staked his claim over you. “I’ve lost my appetite for pizza, found something else I’d rather eat.”

“S-sorry I’m sorry.” The delivery guy stammered, turning quickly with a red faced, shocked expression as he hightailed it away from your door.

Anakin’s other arm looped around your waist, pulling you back into the apartment, his foot coming up to kick the door closed while he laughed.

“Anakin!” You squealed, wiggling out of his grasp and setting the pizza box down on the kitchen counter. “Poor guy, you’ve traumatized him.” You giggled.

“His fault.” He shrugged, pulling you back against him with one hand on the back of your neck.

“Shouldn’t have interrupted my kisses, shouldn’t have flirted with my girl.” He mumbled against your lips, his other hand growing tired of caressing your breasts through the fabric of your top.

His grip on the back of your neck tightened while his free hand tugged up the hem of your top, pulling it past the swell of your breasts and exposing the sensitive flesh for his mouth to latch onto. His lips left yours in favor of pulling and sucking on your hardened nipple, not leaving your other unattended, his fingers working away by pinching and tweaking it.

“Damnit… Anakin.” You whined, pushing his head back.

“Don’t interrupt me sweetheart, I told you I was hungry.” He chuckled.

“For pizza!” You yelped, his teeth gently but unexpectedly bit down on your nipple.

“That was before some twerp tried to sweet talk my baby.” He growled.

“Hush, no one could ever sweet talk me away from you.” You breathed out carding your fingers through his hair.

“Oh? Is that so?” He asked a bit sharper in tone than he normally used with you.

“Of course Ani.” You whispered, eyebrows furrowing in a bit of confusion. What was he talking about? There’s no possible way he could know about Ghost.

He looked up at you from his point of attack as he slowly rose to his feet. Hooking his fingers under your top, he pulled it up again, prompting you to lift your arms so he could take it off. You let him, seeing a shift in his eyes from desire to feral need; a need for possession.

“Let’s get these off.” He whispered, dragging his tongue down the length of your abdomen, his hands helping you step out of your panties and shorts.

He placed a gentle, warm kiss to your mound before straightening himself up again, grabbing the pizza box and the back of your neck again to walk you over to the couch.

With the pizza box on the coffee table, he stripped down bare and opened up the curtains of your big living room window.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a slight laugh.

“If someone wants to look at you, then they can look while I’m balls deep inside.” He said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer while he settled himself on the couch with his legs spread comfortably.

He held you steady with one hand on your waist, leaning forward to trace a wet circle around your navel with his tongue while his fingers spread your folds to run his fingers through and gather up your arousal.

“Turn around baby,” he said softly. “Sit on my cock like a good girl okay?”

You straddled his thighs backwards, his thumbs peeling your asscheeks apart to get a good look as your glistening cunt opened up and took his cock like it was made just for him. His cockhead breached your entrance, the thick metal ball of his jewelry massaging your inner walls while he held you still so he could slowly thrust up into you with short strokes.

“My pussy.” He breathed out, pushing in alittle deeper. “So fucking wet and I didn’t even have to touch you first. All it took was a good kiss huh?”

“Y-yeah.” You nodded, your hands on his knees to keep your balance.

“That’s right.” He nodded, confidence dripping from his voice. “Now settle down on it.”

You lowered yourself slowly, taking in each tortuous inch until he was fully sheathed inside. The position making you feel full in ways you hadn’t before, it put a fair amount of pressure against your front, adding an extra bit of stimulation. You tried to rock back and forth on him, expecting him to want you to do exactly that, but he stopped you.

“No.” Anakin was gruff when he spoke, “You sit still, don’t move unless I tell you to. I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

“Oh… okay.” You nodded rapidly, your pussy contracted around him, earning a dark chuckle from the man behind you.

“Now let’s eat.” He said nonchalantly, gesturing for you to get a slice of pizza for the both of you while he picked up the remote and selected a slasher film.

“Really?” You asked in surprise.

“Yes really.” He scoffed, “I’m hungry, as much as I’d love to be able to sustain myself off your pussy, I can’t.”

“You’re impossible.” You shook your head, leaning forward while he kept ahold of you so that you could retrieve a slice for the both of you.

“Thanks sweetheart.” He said, casual as ever after taking a bite.

He rested his chin on your shoulder and his idle hand on your stomach, rubbing his thumb across your skin soothingly, despite his palm putting a bit of pressure there.

Despite your boyfriend being, like he said: ‘balls deep’ inside you, your thoughts kept drifting to Ghost. You knew somewhere in this room there was a camera, and somewhere out in the world there was a man seething in anger over what you were doing.

Sitting naked, curtains open, spread out and speared on your boyfriend’s dick while you both ate pizza and watched a movie.

You found it harder and harder to sit still, feeling uncomfortable not only from the thickness lodged in your cunt, but from the all seeing, all knowing gaze of Ghost. It only got worse when Anakin’s hand drifted down a bit further to tease and flick your clit.

“Ani please…” you whined, trying your very best not to squirm.

“Please what?” He asked, chewing a bite as he spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“It’s not fair.” You complained, “don’t touch me if you’re not gonna let me move.”

“Excuse me?” His voice deep and dangerous as all his movements froze.

“W-what?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder to see a scowl on his face.

“Repeat yourself.” He asked in a stern but calm tone.

“Well I didn’t- that’s not what I meant I-“

“Say it again.” He prodded.

“It’s not fair?” You whispered, avoiding the part you knew he was referring to.

“Nope, not that.” He said, tossing his half eaten slice of pizza back into the box and doing the same to yours.

“Don’t touch me?” You asked, your voice not coming out nearly as collected as you attempted for it to.

“That’s what I thought you said.” He grunted, removing his hands from your hips and lacing his fingers together behind his head.

“If you wanna move, move.” He challenged. “Just don’t expect any help from me princess. This is all you.”

“What?” You squeaked.

“You told me not to touch you.” He shrugged.

“Anakin! I didn’t mean it like that!” You whined, slowly rising and turning around to face him.

You stared for a minute, distracted from your original mission by the sight of his cock throbbing, coated in your slick, the pretty blushed tip hugging the top ball of the jewelry you loved so much.

“If you want it so bad then get on it and fuck me.” He laughed, a big smug grin on his lips.

“Well, sorry that I find my boyfriend extremely hot.” You snorted. “You’re just so… yummy.”

“Yummy?” His smile only getting bigger as you fueled his ego.

“Mhm.” You nodded, a little smirk on your lips as you put your hands on his chest to balance yourself while you slowly sunk back down on his length.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief from being full of him again. When it came to Anakin you were insatiable, he knew you like that back of his hand, every touch, kiss and movement was choreographed to your liking.

Now he was going to make you work for it after all this time of letting you be a pretty little pillow princess? How unfair.

“Yummy.” You said again, starting to rock back and forth on him, circling your hips and rising just slightly. “You’re so pretty.”

You leaned forward, kissing his chest and snaking your hands up into his hair, tugging lightly but focusing on gentle fingertips carding through his hair. Your lips took a path straight up the column of his throat, hot, open mouthed kisses placed back to back along the inked skin.

Dragging your tongue along the underside of his jaw and enveloping the small black stud on his earlobe with your lips, sucking on it only to pull away.

“C’mon sweetheart you can do better than that.” He groaned, obviously fighting an internal battle with himself, his muscles flexed in his forearms as he squeezed his hands together tightly.

“I like it like this.” You sighed, riding him as slowly as possible, letting your head fall back as you teased him by touching yourself.

“Oh- fuck, baby…” he whined, watching as you cupped both your breasts and pulled at your nipples in sync, putting on a show for him.

You felt his cock twitch at the sight of you taking charge over him, reminding you of the first time you he ‘made love’ to you. His face was pitiful and pained, he looked so needy.

“Poor little Ani.” You teased, poking out your bottom lip.

“Baby please, fuck me for real.” He huffed, trying not to buck up into you.

“I don’t know how, I forgot. You spoiled me for too long.” You giggled, bouncing on him just a bit faster for only a few seconds.

“Gods-“ he gritted his teeth together so tightly you were worried he might crack a tooth. “You can do it princess, c’mon fuck me.”

“Like this?” You asked sweetly, your voice innocent and teasing.

You lifted and pushed back down on him faster, a bit harder, while still circling your hips. Hands leaving your breasts in favor of cupping his face and tilting his head back slightly.

“Y-yeah that’s it.” He nodded, sucking in his bottom lip, tucking it behind his top row of teeth as he closed his eyes tightly.

“Better?” You whispered, your hands leaving his face to return to his chest, pinching his nipples just to see how he’d react.

“Christ-“ he sucked in a sharp breath of air, his eyes flying open to look down at your hands, your fingertips squeezing the little hardened nubs. “Shit sweetheart…”

“You like it?” You asked him with a bit of surprise.

“I-yeah I think I do.” He chuckled, choking on air when you leaned down and enveloped one between your lips biting down like he’d done to you.

“I take it back… I know I like it.” He breathed out shakily.

With newfound confidence you rode him in earnest, soaking in every moan and whimper he let loose and letting it fuel the fire in your belly.

“That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, his head resting on the back of the couch as he moved his arms down, flexing his hands at his sides to keep them busy.

You slowed down to tease him, to hear him whimper. And he did, he looked up at you like you’d kicked a puppy when you broke your rhythm that had him hurtling toward the edge.

“Why?” He hiccuped, his eyebrows knitted together while he tongued at his lip piercings anxiously.

“Cause I wanted to.” You giggled, taking pride in the way you had him under your thumb.

“Brat.” He grumbled, “c’mon fuck me, you know how to fuck me baby.”

He was loosing patience and loosing it quickly. He thrusted up slightly and stopped himself from doing more by groaning loudly and biting down on his fist.

“You wanna cum?” You asked, low and seductive.

“Goddamnit.” He sucked in a sharp breath when you purposely clenched around him rhythmically, licking at his nipples again.

“Yes, please, please I want to.” He whined, covering his eyes with his arm.

“You want to? Or need to?” You teased him, nipping at his Adam’s apple.

“Sweetheart,” he growled, “please.”

“Aw Anakin, you didn’t answer my question.” You pouted, slowing down slightly.

“Fuck!” He grunted, his face heating up at your self satisfied giggle. “I need to. I need to cum, please!”

“See? Just needed to answer a simple question.” You cooed, returning to your previous pace.

“That’s real fucking rich coming from you, little-“ He held his breath, stopping his words from coming out, instead letting out a whine that bordered on a sob.

“Please.” He panted, “princess please just- faster.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You said with a smug grin, complying with his request and moving just a bit faster.

“Make me cum.” He gritted out, baring his teeth and trying not to grab you, both hands hovering at your waist. “C’mon fuck the cum out of me sweetheart, you can do it, you know how to do it.”

His words had you falter in your movements, he sounded so desperate, so needy, he was able to make you feel desired in ways no one else ever had before and it made you want to give him everything he needed and more.

“Fuck this shit.” He growled, gripping you tightly and ramming up into you, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

“Takin’ too damn long, not doing what I asked, teasing me…” he grunted, driving up hard and fast. “Can’t stand it anymore.”

“Fuck… yeah scratch me.” he chuckled, feeling your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you hiccuped for air. “Mark me up princess.”

“God you feel so good.” He let out a shaky breath, his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Play with your clit, cum for me.”

“M’not gonna last much longer baby.” He whined and you thought you felt something hot and wet drip down onto your skin.

“Ani?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Hmm?” He sniffled, not lifting his head.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, wishing he’d slow down and look at you. “Are you crying?”

“Damnit.” He hiccuped, nodding his head and letting out a long held breath against your flushed skin. “Fuck… m’fine.”

“But-“

“Shhh- shut up.” He said quietly. “Just- just need you.”

He trailed kisses along your skin, sucking at the crook of your neck and nibbling there, doing his damndest to give you a massive hickey. You didn’t have the willpower to stop him and ask him to pick another place.

“I need you, need to feel you, need to be with you.” His voice shook, as he whispered into your skin, his lips grazing against your earlobe with each word.

“Don’t ever wanna lose you.” He pulled you flush against his chest, fisting your hair and squeezing your middle tightly as he leaned back, taking you with him. “You’re my girl, mine.”

“Fuck.” He sobbed, clutching at your body, at any piece of you he could reach as he relentlessly thrusted up into you. “Shit, shit, shit I’m gonna cum.” He breathed out, hot and heavy.

“I-I… baby I love you.” He confessed, a pitiful whimper leaving his trembling lips as he pulled back enough for you to see his red rimmed eyes just before he devoured you in a kiss.

He moaned into your mouth, holding you tightly as he fucked his cum deep inside your cunt, the shock of his confession, the confusion of his tears and the warmth of his seed coating your walls had you coming apart at the seams along with him.

You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know what to feel, guilty that’s for certain, but otherwise? You were an emotional wreck. All you could do was kiss him. Kiss him and touch him and ride out your high in little movements while he tries to catch his breath and wipe his tears.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispered, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. “I just needed you to know.”

“I-it’s not that I just… are you okay?” You asked gently, climbing off him and letting him cuddle you up next to him and wrap a blanket around the both of you.

“I’m fine sweetheart.” He nodded, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing in the scent of you. “I got overwhelmed I guess.”

“It’s a big feeling and I feel it extra big for you.” He said softly, petting your hair and scratching your scalp lovingly.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded, laying your head on his chest and feeling his warmth. “Big, big feeling.” You whispered, trying to hold in the flow of tears that threatened to burst out for several reasons, some including Anakin and some including someone else.

Diary Entry: August 26th

I ask myself again: will I ever fucking learn? No. The answer is no, I will not.

Let’s listen the things I did horribly wrong last night shall we?

I should’ve just decked the pizza guy like I wanted to. I would’ve if it wouldn’t have scared you.

I almost called you something I shouldn’t.

I cried like a little bitch baby. What the hell was that Anakin? What kind of guy cries (not the good kind of tears) while he fucks his girlfriend? Not me! Not me, that’s not me! God that was so fucking stupid, I can’t believe I did that. Worried you like that. I just couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it.

I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I love you either.

So. It’s safe to say that I’ve officially lost my shit.

You didn’t say it back. Why didn’t you say it back? Am I not enough? Have I split you in half like I’ve done to myself?

Maybe you just think it’s too soon. I mean, really it is for any normal relationship. But our relationship isn’t normal at all. You could paint it and position it any way you wanted and it still wouldn’t look right.

You can’t leave me. Please, please, please don’t leave me. I don’t want to scare you off. I can’t… I couldn’t live without you. So I can’t see you as Ghost until I’ve sorted myself out. No matter how badly I want to.

I probably shouldn’t even see you as myself until I’ve taken care of my head.

DATE

August 27th

Anakin laid flat on his back, the furniture in his living room pushed against the wall so that he could spread out like a starfish on the soft rug. He told you he worked tonight even though he didn’t. He told you he’d see you tomorrow even though he wasn’t sure that he would. He told you he loved you even though you didn’t say it back.

He had spent every minute since you’d fallen asleep last night researching and compiling information about a guy neither of you knew. He had spent every second manually breathing to keep himself centered and calm enough so that he wouldn’t shake with anger as he read each new tidbit of information.

He had everything ready. He was ready.

Anakin sighed and stood up slowly, brushing off imaginary dirt from his black jeans. Stopping near his living room window to pick up his small black backpack, then he climbed down the fire escape toward the more populated, less watched area of the city.

The place where you go to get meth on the street corner. The houses where the windows are cracked and the front porch light flickers. Where the night noises make you walk alittle faster, hold your keys alittle tighter.

The place where a police officer’s druggie son gets away with selling pills to highschoolers.

His freshly bought throwaway Goodwill sneakers crunched against the crumbling sidewalk, a small paint-chipped house came into view. Anakin had walked this far without seeing a single soul since he’d tied a certain bandana across his face. And of course when he’s within 30ft of his destination some half dressed middle aged man with a beer gut is out in his front lawn walking his tiny mutant chihuahua.

Anakin kept his head down and walked straight past the house he was meant to be at. Grumbling about his luck and how he didn’t have time for any more delays. Deciding to take the back way and hop the fence instead of entering through the side basement window like he’d originally planned.

After his extra 5 minutes of walking he’d looped around to the correct house’s backyard and scaled the the rickety wooden fence with a little more noise than he wanted.

“At least the idiot left his door unlocked.” He mumbled, looking at the back door that was propped open with a rubber boot. The screen door closed but without a handle or latch.

He walked in, the screen door creaking open with a loud screech that had Anakin cursing himself for not bringing his WD-40.

“Kyle?” A slurred and drunken voice called out from somewhere in the living room.

“You’re like a whole hour early man.” The pizza delivery guy, Joel Hampton, choked out as he flicked cigarette ash into a tray on the coffee table.

“I’m right on time.” Anakin’s voice came from behind him, both of his hands coming down on his shoulders to lift him up and out of the recliner.

“Jesus! What the hell?!” Joel kicked and tried to wrestle himself away from Anakin, clumsy and halted half-movements that only had him stumbling.

“Where’s your gun?” Anakin growled, flipping out his knife and dragging Joel across the dirty laminate floor by his hair. “I know you have one. Where is it?”

“Fuck man! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Joel yelped, Anakin’s knife blade pressed against his throat.

“You have a pistol.” Anakin repeated, his face coming down to get on Joel’s level, “Where. Is. It?”

“W-why? Why’re you doing this? If you want drugs I’ll give ‘em to you man!” He squealed, Anakin yanking him back to his feet and steering him toward the kitchen.

“Oh how convenient.” Anakin chuckled, dragging Joel over to his kitchen sink and pushing his head down in the dirty water sitting stagnant with the night’s dishes.

Joel flailed his arms, landing and elbow to Anakin’s ribs that only served to piss him off more, so he pulled him from the water and tossed him to the ground watching him sputter and gasp for breath.

“Where is it Joel?”

“How do you know my name?” He coughed, slinking back across the tile to corner himself against the cabinets.

“Your dad’s name is Fredrick Hampton, he just got a promotion down at the 5th precinct. Your mommy Linda is a cashier at the Quik-Stop down the road, where you do your week day deals to the kids from the highschool. You got mono and were in the hospital for a week last year and your family dog died two months ago.” Anakin listed these things off like he’d been rehearsing it. “And yesterday, you delivered pizza to me and my girlfriend.”

“N-no, no you’re that guy?” He squeaked.

“Yeah. I’m that guy.” Anakin said. “Now, give me your gun and I’ll make this quick or don’t and I’ll make it messy.”

“You’re gonna kill me over that?” He sputtered, trying to stand up. “I didn’t even do nothing!”

“I was bored anyway.” Anakin snapped, throwing a strong right hook to Joel’s cheek.

“Do you think it’d be more believable if you killed yourself or if you got jumped by some druggies in your own house?” Anakin snorted. “I’m fine with both. You’re gonna die either way.”

“Kill myself?” Joel spat on the tile, holding his jaw, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“Your gun you fucking idot.” Anakin barked, “are you daft? I need your pistol to blow your fucking brains out, it’s not like you’re using ‘em anyway.”

“Do you want it slow and painful or quick and easy?” Anakin asked angrily, “C’mon I’m giving you a choice, that’s a thing I do now, don’t make me regret it.”

“Neither!” Joel yelled, finally getting up and sloppily throwing a punch to Anakin’s gut.

“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Alright.”

“S’okay I like it messy.” Anakin whispered tossing his knife on the kitchen table and picking Joel up by the back of his head and the center of the back of his shirt.

“Kyle’s supposed to be here in an hour?” Anakin asked casually, bringing Joel’s face down on the wooden table top hard enough to push it across the room.

“Plenty of time.” Anakin brought the heel of his shoe down on Joel’s fingers hearing them crunch in a satisfying way.

“Goddamnit!” Joel pulled his hand back and held it to his chest, groaning in pain and red in the face from holding his breath.

“Get up,” Anakin chuckled, “don’t want daddy to think you went down without a fight do you?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m flattered, but I have a pretty girl for that.” He grunted as he sent his right foot swinging directly at Joel’s mouth, the toe of his shoe coming back bloody.

Joel spat out blood onto the floor, his uninjured hand going to touch his split lip and feel his bottom row of teeth.

“What do you what man?” He cried out, his face a picture of pain painted red as his bloodied finger tips felt his jaw and cheek.

“Nothin’.” Anakin shrugged, picking up a chair and tossing it on its side, bracing himself on the table to jump down on one of the legs to break it off.

“Ooh look.” He laughed, shaking the splintered chair leg in Joel’s face, “Got a screw in it.”

“Come on, Joel.” Anakin groaned kicking him in the stomach. “You’re not making this any fun for me.”

“You’re a fucking psycho!” He grunted, curling up into a ball to protect his middle.

“Don’t you fucking call me that.” Anakin gritted out through bared teeth.

“You don’t know me!” Anakin shouted, bringing the chair leg, screw side down on the man below him, over and over again, red blooms soaking through his light blue shirt.

“But I know you.” Anakin kneeled down gripping Joel’s hair and slamming his face down against the tile, blood spurting from his nose and sending him into a stupor.

“Where’s it stop for you huh?” Anakin asked, pinning his arm in place on the ground with one knee on Joel’s elbow and slowly, so, so, slowly bending his arm back.

Feeling the tension of his muscles and the protestation of his bone Anakin gritted his teeth, holding Joel’s arm by the wrist just before the breaking point.

“It’s not enough for you to go around selling drugs to kids, you hit your girlfriend about four months ago and wound up with a little domestic that your daddy took care of for you.” Anakin grunted, snapping the elbow joint with a loud crunch and crack followed by a sharp scream from Joel that Anakin quieted with a foot to the face.

“So here I am,” Anakin hefted Joel up who weakly attempted to stand on his own two feet while Anakin held him under the arms and dragged him back into the living room, kicking him squarely in the chest down onto the glass coffee table. “getting rid of your dear old dad’s biggest disappointment and getting my fix in so I can be the best man I can for my pretty girl at home.”

“Now Joel, before you pass out...” Anakin crouched down and grabbed his jaw, slapping him to rouse him enough to pay attention, “I need the code to your lockbox.”

“W-will you leave me?” He slurred, drooling blood from the corner of his mouth, “Alone? Leave me alone?”

“Yeah sure.” Anakin shrugged.

“4-2-0-7” Joel panted, trying to get up and scoot away from his attacker, picking up shattered glass in the meat of hands, shards falling from his battered back.

“Whoa buddy slow down,” Anakin laughed, picking up the lockbox from beside the recliner and opening it up, shoving cash and as many baggies of various pills as he could into his pockets. “hold this for me.”

He tossed the lock box down on Joel’s chest and stifled a laugh at the pitiful choked sob that left him, the weight of it knocking the air from his lungs while Anakin trudged over the scattered glass.

He tossed the couch onto its back, swiped the various items on the kitchen counter off onto the floor, kicking it around and smearing blood over the counter top and cabinets, he grabbed his butterfly knife from where he’d tossed it aside, as well as a dirty skillet from the kitchen sink.

Smearing blood on the side of the skillet, he swung it like a bat at the wall in various places before making his way back to Joel who was fumbling with blood slicked fingers on his phone.

“Oh you stupid, stupid man.” Anakin snorted, snatching it from his hands he checked the screen and saw he hadn’t even been able to unlock it.

He tossed it up and swung his skillet-bat, a loud *Prrringg* rang out before it clattered to the ground somewhere near the hall to the back door.

“You said you’d leave.” Joel whimpered, holding his hands over his face.

“I lied.” Anakin said contempt dripping from his lips from behind the black bandana, tilting his head to the side.

“Hope you understand, I gotta beat the shit out of you with a few different things before I kill you.” Anakin sighed, “All this trouble when you could’ve just told me where your pistol was.”

“Shame.” He grunted, bringing the sharp edge of the skillet down on his ribs, arms, and legs.

“Please,” Joel wheezed, clutching at his side with his mangled arm tucked underneath him. “you don’t have to do this man, c’mon I ain’t done nothing to you!”

“I know I don’t have to, I want to.” Anakin pulled down his bandana for the first time during this attack just to flash Joel a smile.

He tossed the skillet somewhere to the right of them, grabbing Joel’s ashtray from beneath the shattered remains of the coffee table, cracking it over the back of his head.

“Shit, I hope you didn’t spend too much on that.” Anakin chuckled. “S’not real marble, look at that. Split right in half.” He tsk’d.

“Shall we end this now?” He took a deep breath, flicking out his knife.

“Why’d you do all that… just to kill me?” Joel cried, “don’t do it, please. I’ll- my dad, he’ll fix it okay?”

“I did all that, for fun.” Anakin said, gripping the knife firmly in his leather gloved hand, jamming it between Joel’s lower ribs, clamping his free hand over his mouth to muffle the blood-curdling scream he let out.

“Your dad ain’t fixing shit.” Anakin snorted, “he’s gonna be glad to be rid of you.”

“You’ve got another brother, nice guy. Works at the bank,” Anakin whistled lowly as he pulled out the blade at watched the blood gush out. “your dad wouldn’t admit it to your face of course; but I imagine he’ll be relieved when he hears the news.”

Joel sputtered and coughed up blood, gurgling the fluid in his open mouth as he choked. Deep crimson ichor drowning him from the inside.

“You’re making a mess.” Anakin grumbled, switching the grip on the blade. With one hand wrapped around the handles, the other palm on the end to put extra weight into the next motion.

“Hey.” Anakin nudged him with him knee, “open your eyes.”

The second he complied Anakin sank the blade straight into the brown of his iris, a shiver running over his flesh when he heard the *pop* when it pierced through.

“Figured you’d wanna see something pretty before you died.” Anakin grinned, putting his full upper body weight into the knife handle, driving it in as far as he could manage.

“Gross,” Anakin stood up, watching with a grimace as Joel seized, red foam oozing down his chin until he finally stopped convulsing. “fucking nasty.”

Anakin plucked his knife from the eye socket and cleaned the blade on the one unblemished patch of fabric of his victim’s shirt, tucking it into his back pocket. He surveyed the area, ensuring he’d created a believable enough scene, once he was satisfied he walked toward the backdoor, purposely shuffling and sliding his feet across the laminate to avoid full, solid foot prints.

“Hmm.” As he reached the end of the hall he spotted a large mason jar of change, he just couldn’t help himself from smacking it off the small entryway table it sat on, enjoying the sound of the coins scattering across the floor.

“Nice.” He grinned, a little pep in his step as he jumped to the grass from the top step.

In the corner of the backyard against the fence, Anakin pulled off his gloves and switched out his clothes and shoes, shoving the drugs, cash and dirty clothes into his bag.

He hopped the fence and walked as casually as he could down the sidewalk. Unable to wipe the smile from his lips, he was practically giddy, having gotten the biggest adrenaline rush he’d had in a long, long time. He felt free, he felt like a dark cloud had been blown away by a summer breeze. He felt like he could reach up and run his fingertips across the night sky, collecting up stars like pretty rocks to bring home to you.

He felt different. He felt changed. He felt alive.

And gods forgive him, he felt horny.

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @demieyesore @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin #anakin skywalker x you #stalker!anakin #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #james kelly

[wandasfifthwife]

*ೃ༄ the difference between daddy!wanda & mommy!wanda

hockey coach/player! wanda x afab!reader ︎tw ͏ 𖧷 MDNI, top!wanda, bottom!reader, mentions or hints to sexual acts such as (fingering, oral (v & strap), grinding, tribbing, scissoring, strap in v), kinks such as degradation/praise, marking, exhibition ͏a/n ︎ 𖧷 inspired by this post. I WILL POST A FIC OF R CALLING W DADDY FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE SOON!

ׂ╰┈➤ series m.list 🌷 ┈➤ wanda m.list 🌻

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡mommy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s giving, gentle—

* it’s when R wakes up late at night, pulling on her shirt and Wanda’s turning over, half-asleep to sedate R’s neediness

* these are when she’s at practice, a hand on R’s hip as she’s talking to the kid’s parents

* it’s how she’s checking in on you often, pressing a kiss to your cheek when she notices how you’re looking down

* this is when she’s expressing her love for you, whispering how beautiful you are—all of you, mind body and soul

* it’s how she kisses you sweetly, hand on your face

* this is love confessions throughout your intimate moments

* these are moments when you’re eating her out and she’s guiding you through it, telling you how good you are for her, how lucky she is to have you

* this is when she either knows what you want, or if not she’ll ask and do everything you ask and more

* this is where if you want to control the situation, she’ll sit back and let you ride her, she’ll let you finger her—and she’ll be so kind to you

* it’s when she coos when she notices tears, wiping them from your cheeks immediately

* these are moments when she’s building you up again, helping you if you’re ever feeling down/bad about yourself or your body

* It’s small makeouts on her couch, grinning when she feels you grind on her lap and whimper so sweetly into her mouth

* this is when you can feel it mentally, you feel loved and taken care of, your heart and body feeling more confident after

* it’s when she’s bringing you water/food after, talking with you, and setting a hot bath for you to relax in after an intimate moment

fics w/ mommy!wanda —> locker room | my hands are cold, warm them?

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡daddy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s calling the shots, demanding—

* it’s when W loses a game and takes her frustration out, roughly pulling R down on her strap

* it’s the way she slams opponents into the screened wall when she’s heard them talk about you like you’re single and open for taking

* it’s the marks she loves to leave on your skin, biting down to hear you cry out

* this is when she’s feeling cocky about how good she makes you feel, smiling at your blissful expression

* it’s when she’s calling you names, titles such as slut are used, meant to make you feel degraded

* these are moments when she can’t help herself, pushing you into some crammed space to make your eyes roll to the back of your head

* this is when she’s pushing her strap past your lips, laughing when you choke or have tears pooling in your eyes

* this is when she has a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt on purpose as she eyes down another who’s been looking at you for too long

* it’s when she’s pushing you over the edge to pull you right back in despite your little (untrue/false) statements for her to “stop”

* she doesn’t and won’t let you lead, she’s going to be pulling all the reigns

* this is when you can feel it after— legs shaky and a limp in your step

* it’s when she’s falling asleep on you after with a smile on her face, the both of you too tired to go anywhere after her drawn out ministrations on you

fics w/ daddy!wanda —> she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit | your jealousy is showing (on me)

#competing series #hockey!wanda #hockey coach!wanda #hockey player!wanda #hockey!au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #top wanda #bottom reader #Wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x you #Wanda Maximoff x afab!reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader smut #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda marvel #marvel women x reader #marvel wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda fic #wanda maximoff smut

[muniimyg]

prologue // series m.list

note: no concussion will stop me … hi jus making sure u all still love me </3

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

Jungkook hates studying. 

Although his grades prove to differ, a part of him has always thought it was simply good luck. For the most part, he’s an A student… Truth be told, he’s more of a cram-it-all-at-2AM kind of guy. On the odd days that Jungkook felt like he needed to prepare more, he liked studying in the University’s nest. There’s a good coffee cart there and it’s definitely much more social than the hideous library. 

Yet, the nest and his bedroom ceased to exist when he met you.

When he met you, Jungkook stepped into the library for the first time in nearly three years.

It was so odd.

He felt like a new student. It was a whole different world in that stuffy library of yours... He wanted to understand it so bad. Maybe that's why he kept coming back. Sooner than later, he realized that it wasn't the library he was trying to understand; it was you.

And it felt weird right off the bat. He felt so... Confused? Alone? It occurred to him just then that no one really talks about what happens when you develop feelings for someone... How you begin to alter your routine just so it can match theirs and how every little thing that you see becomes an excuse for you to use to see or talk to them about.

Since when did he care about who was in your Instagram story?

Since when did he care about which parties you were attending?

Since when did he give a shit about sitting next to you?

Oh, and not to mention the sudden change in preference... But let's fucking talk about the preference change.

He used to really like going down 3RD Ave to go home from the library, but you said it was too busy of a path. Going down 5TH Ave takes 5 minutes longer, but it's okay. The scenery is prettier. The walk is calmer. It's also conveniently closer to your place.

He used to not give a shit about oat or soy milk. Regular milk is fine. He's not even lactose. But since you prefer oat milk; so does he. You're right. It does make drinks taste better.

He used to only get haircuts once every 2-3 months... But you said he looked handsome when he cut his hair shorter than usual. Now, his barber asks him, "Seriously, bro, what's her name?" once a month.

It's mindblowing.

There are so many things he's changed about himself before he even realized he liked you. There are so many things that changed in his life just for the mere chance of you liking it or noticing it.

Like, fuck.

He's such a fucking loser.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he feels this way... He just does. It swirls in his stomach and presses on his chest. Simply, he’s confused about whether he can control it or not.

This feeling.

This change.

Truly, all he knows is that if you like something, he likes it too.

If you hate something, he hates it too. 

If you do something, he will do it too. 

A part of himself can’t even be upset at this change. At the end of the day, he was studying better. He was seating himself in a less overstimulating environment and above all; he was always with you. 

How could he be upset at that?

His thoughts pause as he feels you squeeze his arm for his attention. Gladly, he gives it to you.

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm all done for tonight—oh gosh—" Your words are cut off as you turn your face and meet his. He's so close! It caught you so off guard that your phone slipped from your hands.

"S-sorry," you apologize, pushing your chair back, bending down, and getting on the floor to find your phone. Jungkook quickly follows you, getting off his seat and meeting you under the table. "I didn't realize you were so close—"

"I was?" he asks, voice a little shakey. From the corner of his eye, he sees your phone and reaches for it. Just as he's about to give it to you, you laugh in response.

"I guess that's how close you usually sit to me. I was so focused on my work and when I finally turn away it was like boom! Jungkook!"

His facial expression remains blank as you ramble. You look at him softly, feeling a little confused. "Did you get another haircut, by the way? It looks good!"

He blushes.

You smile at him warmly, inching backward to get up from under the table.

"This? It was whatever—"

Jungkook's words cut off as a muted thud interrupts. He saw it happen. It happened so fast. Your forehead collides with the table's edge, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain.

He reaches for you, placing his hand over your forehead and hissing. "Shit, ___! Are you okay?"

Blinking away tears of discomfort, you wince as Jungkook presses his hand to your throbbing temple. "I'm okay," you murmur, trying to downplay the pain, though your voice trembles slightly.

It's in this moment that you take in how Jungkook looks at you. His eyes soften with concern as he studies your flushed cheeks and furrowed brow. Leaning in closer, he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. His touch is so gentle and reassuring at the same time. It must be the bump because for some reason... You're dizzy.

You meet his gaze. Jungkook offers you a small smile and you melt. Despite the throbbing ache in your head, a warmth spread throughout your body at the sight of his fucking smile.

It's not even his best one.

His best smile happens when you say something under your breath and he catches it. Teasing you relentlessly, you've grown to accept his behaviour in exchange of seeing that damn smile of his.

It was worth it.

"Here," Jungkook takes your hand, “let’s get you an ice pack—owh, fuck."

Unsure if it's because he was nervous and distracted by the fact he was holding your hand, Jungkook clearly got ahead of himself. He doesn't time this right. His body jerked up too early, swiftly attempting to escape. Instead, a similar muted thud noise causes a muffled curse to escape his lips. The pain radiates through his skull and you look at him, knowing the feeling all too well.

Jungkook is stunned.

Jungkook is stupid.

What kind of genius hits his head trying to get out from under the table too?

As your eyes widen, your hands fly to the back of his head. You rub his head and lean in closer. Jungkook places his hand on your wrist, biting the inside of his cheeks.

He didn't know what emotion he felt more of... Was he embarrassed or was he was just super pissed at this fucking table right now?

Or was he kind of loving this?

You're so close to him that he can take your scent in. You smell so good... And you're so pretty up close. He pouts, and utters; "fuck, that really hurt."

You throw your head back and laugh. "I think we're idiots," you tell him. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“Yeah..” He snickers. "Wanna keep this a secret? Let’s never tell anyone about this... Ever."

He offers you his pinky. With your free hand, you intertwine them and make your promise.

At that moment, as you two locked eyes, everything began to fade away. Jungkook wasn't pissed anymore.

Why should he be?

There was solace in your gaze. It was a good reminder that you care for him... And wow, did that make him feel good.

His heart beats faster and faster.

Then, it skips a beat.

As Jungkook feared, you had truly done it now.

With the slightest touch, the softest smile, and kindest eyes... You mesmerize him and he finds it difficult—impossible—to get himself out of this.

“Is this even helping—“

Jungkook catches your hands, keeping them on him. You tilt your head but smile shyly. He clears his throat.

“Y-yeah,” he lies. “I think I hit my head harder than you. Can you just.. Yeah?”

You nod, moving in closer. At this point, there’s no space between you two. You continue to rub his head and he does everything he can to memorize this.

Every detail on your face.

How your touch feels.

How you touch his heart.

The way he feels right now… Oh, god. It’s too much. It’s a kind of high he has never felt before.

For a moment you two sit there and it’s like there is no world aside from the one you two found in each others presence. Under the table, laughing and comforting each other—oh, it felt golden. Jungkook couldn't believe it... He couldn't believe how this fleeting moment changed everything he ever felt about you. There was no going back. There was no way out either... There was just... This.

Here.

Now.

What bliss? How slowly, then all at once, you bloomed for his gaze.

#bts fic #jungkook scenario #jk uni au #jk x yn

[midnightloversmusic]

Ruined Movie Dates ✧.*

James Potter x Reader

Hurt/Comfort

“Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”

masterlist

————————————————————————

You are currently hiding from James in the bathroom.

It’s not like you want to be hiding from James, you want to be cuddled up in his arms watching a movie right about now as you had planned yesterday, but here you are with a black eye hiding in your bathroom as you hear James letting himself into your apartment.

It really wasn’t your fault it’s not like you prompted this person to punch you, she mistaked you for the girl who slept with her girlfriend and that’s fair.

but god does it hurt like an absolute bitch.

And all you know is that James can not know about this. Your sweet, kind, lovely, caring boyfriend would flip the absolute fuck out if he saw that you had a black eye.

in a loving and concerned way of course but, how exactly are you going to hide it from him when he’s literally in your apartment right now for a movie date?

you have absolutely no idea.

“Love?”

you hear James call from the entry way

“I’m just in the bathroom i’ll be out in a sec!”

fuck.

you usually keep your makeup in a drawer under the sink but as you open it is you realize you left your foundation in your purse yesterday when you were running late to work. Now you really have to option but to kick James out and wait until your eye heals to see him again.

“Um James can you come here please?” you ask in a small voice

you hear his footsteps come from the kitchen up until the door and you open the door a crack so that he can’t see your bruised eye

“I’m really not feeling good tonight and I know it’s a little late to cancel seemingly as you’re already in my apartment but I hope you’ll understand when I ask you to please go?”

he stands there silently staring at you, evaluating you, looking right into your soul, and stealing all the thoughts from your brain.

how dare he.

“If you really are feeling unwell and want me to go, I will but I don’t mind getting sick and I would rather take care of you, if you’ll let me?”

and shit. When he talks in that sickly sweet voice it’s really fucking hard to lie to him.

“Jamie I appreciate the offer but I just really need you to go-“

as you are as politely as possible asking him to remove himself from the premises of your apartment complex he shifts his position allowing him to see just a little further into the bathroom. Just enough to see your absolutely fucked eye.

“Baby what happened?”

All the sudden his concerned look gets ten times worse. his eyebrow scrunches more and is frown deepens and he opens the door to grab your chin and examine your eye.

without the stress of trying to hide from james you can finally feel the throbbing pain in your eye and you really wish you had sneaked an ice pack before you scurried into hiding

“lovie you have to tell me what happened”

you just whine.

he lightly brushes his finger over the bruise and you wince

“sorry”

“it’s okay” you say taking a deep breath

“This girl mistaked me for the girl her girlfriends been cheating on her with but it’s not her fault because she showed me a picture and we do look exactly the same I mean I was wondering if i was secretly adopted and had a twin that I didn’t know about-“

and now youre rambling and it doesn’t seem to be soothing james’ pitying expression

“ Love why didn’t you call me immediately? I would have been there in an instant. Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”

“i’m sorry I just didn’t want to make it a big deal”

“it is a big deal, you’re hurt, cmon love let’s go get an ice pack that must hurt”

and he scooped you up into his arms as if it was your legs that were hurt and carried you the couch as he grabbed an ice pack

you can’t lie, there are much worse things than being taken care of by james. much much worse.

#james potter x you #james fleamont potter #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter x fem!reader #jamespotter #james potter hurt/comfort #marauders era

[taehyuncult]

the pet names ask has me thinking… what phrases do bnd (legal line) say in bed? who is the most/least vocal?

the horrors persist… BUT SO DOES MY VOICE KINK let’s get this voice kink party started <3

sungho: definitely more quiet, until he gets close. when he’s close, he’ll start rambling out a bunch of “oh fuck oh fuck, wait- it’s- too much” like that kind of vibe. he’s so cute when he gets like this because he’s always so put together, but the second he’s close + cumming he’s a mess. he can talk a lot during it too, he’ll be very upfront (not necessarily blunt, but rather honest) with telling you what feels good. he loves praising you and makes sure you always know how good you make him feel. sometimes, he’ll get shy when you compliment him, his brain short circuits for a moment. it’s not often that our sweet yeppi here gets shy, but tell him he looks so pretty while he fucks you and he’ll melt.

riwoo: baby boy here is really not that vocal. he’s not extremely loud in general, so it makes sense, but his moans are honestly music to your ears. they’re so pretty, and usually so soft, he laughs a lot when he feels really good. not like a full blown laugh but more so like “haaa-ha, feels so good.” sort of thing, that light laugh that people do sometimes if that makes sense?? absolutely will go “ahhh- *smiles* so good” when he’s close or finishing. he’s shy when it comes to just straight up moaning in your ear, but if you remind him that hearing him is a turn on, it’ll really help him to feel more confident. just depends on the day/his mood, and how confident he is.

jaehyun: the most vocal. i have mentioned this before… he’s a loud one for sure. he’s not screaming or anything crazy, but he’s not ashamed to vocally express he’s feeling good. if you praise him, he’ll get noticably more vocal too, not just moans, but will ramble out gratitude and other stuff. he gets especially whiney and breathless when you suck him off and it’ll have his eyes rolling back and his mouth spilling out whimpers. he really is the cutest whiny puppy. could definitely see him calling you mommy, begging you with lines like “i’ll be your good boy, mommy! please!” he’s the cutest loud puppy dog.

taesan: more vocal, but not the most. he’s vocal in the sense that he uses dirty talk a lot. he likes to ask questions such as “do you like that, baby?” or “does that make you feel good?” because he wants to ensure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. he also plays into a degradation kink, if you’re into it, and can get pretty filthy with it. says things like “look at your sweet little pussy, all wet and just waiting for me to use it.” “you want me to use you? beg for it.” like UGGGHHHH he’s so good. when it comes to the noises he makes, he’s more of a groaner and his groans/soft moans go STRAIGHT to your pussy. when he’s more subby/not caring about power dynamics then he can definitely be more whiny.

leehan: more in the middle in terms of volume. his sounds are deep groans paired with lots of dirty talk. he knows he has a hot deep voice that can get your cunt absolutely soaked, so, of course he’s going to use it. the mouth he has on him is absolutely foul in the best way possible, saying the nastiest things to you like it’s a normal everyday thing. he’ll say things like “your pussy is so cute, the way it always gushes for me” or “you look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you, yeah? wanna see?” like excuse me ???? where’s the decency sir

#admin.kisa <3 #kisa’s hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #bnd hard hours #bnd hard thoughts #boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #boynextdoor x reader #bonedo smut #sungho smut #riwoo smut #myung jaehyun smut #taesan smut #leehan smut

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (Bonus)

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Find ALL the Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend Fics HERE

This bonus material is brought to you by @darkangel4121 (who wanted to see the toxic boyfriends get what they deserve)

I took some liberties with the prompt since I wanted to keep them short. There are two drabbles (100 words each) and two double drabbles (200 words each). The commonality is that the toxic boyfriend always receives a punch to the face. :)

Content Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, minor violence, brief blood

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Best step back, mate.” Kyle extends his arm, blocking more of your view.

Your now ex-boyfriend glowers, lips turned downward in a frown. “She’s mine.”

“I broke it off,” you snap over Kyle’s shoulder.

“I’ll handle this,” whispers Kyle, shaking his head.

Your ex guffaws. “You cheated. Shacked up with this wanker.”

The muscle in Kyle’s jaw twitches.

Your ex sneers at Kyle before turning his best smile on you. “I’ve been so good to you. And we both made mistakes.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Won’t happen again.”

“You’re a liar,” you hurl, voice quavering. “You’ll do it again.” And then, more softly. “I didn’t cheat. I left you.”

Your ex takes a step closer, and Kyle matches his movements.

“Back off,” hisses Kyle, shoulders tensing.

“Or what? What will you do?” He keeps moving toward Kyle, nostrils flared, face becoming red with anger. “What will you—”

Kyle swings. He’s so fast you don’t even see his arm move. All you see is the spray of blood and the sudden drop of your ex’s body to the ground.

Your hands cover your mouth. There is silence. Stillness. Then your ex groans, waking, pushing off the ground.

“Piss off,” murmurs Kyle.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is gonna lose his head if this wanker doesn’t leave.

“She told you fuck off.”

Your ex remains still, not glancing at Johnny. He steps to the side intending to walk around him. Johnny growls. Following.

“Just want to talk. Give me a chance. I’m good for it.”

“You have no right to speak to her,” snaps Johnny.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

The crunch is loud as Johnny’s fist makes contact. Gratification rolls through Johnny as the man collapses to the ground.

The fucker groans, clutching his face. Johnny grabs your hand, stepping over the guy, leading you away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The words don’t make it out of your ex’s mouth.

Simon swings. It is brutal. Raw.

You see red seconds after the crunch. Something is broken. Your ex hits the ground. Simon is already on him, hauling him up by the collar.

“Fuck off with your apologies and sweet talk,” growls Simon. “She’s not taking you back.”

Your ex’s gaze is lucid from Simon’s punch. “If you try to speak to her—fuck, even look at her, I’ll break more than your nose.” Simon shakes him. Your ex groans. “Got it?”

He nods and Simon shoves him to the ground.

John Price

John and your ex are in a standoff.

“Leave,” says Price. “I won’t ask again.”

Your ex rolls his eyes and turns to address you. He always returns with sweet words and kind gestures to lure you back. But not this time.

You’re done.

John grabs him by the throat and shoves him up against the wall. “I told you to leave.”

“You with him now?” your ex says to you, accusation in his tone. “While we’re still together?”

“We’re not together. You abandoned me.”

His lip curls and you know the word he wants to say. It’s sitting on his tongue. He’s used it before.

“She’s not yours,” growls Price.

“Fuck you.”

John drops him, and before his feet hit the ground, John swings, sending your ex’s body spinning into the wall. He hits plaster. Collapses.

“Oh my god.”

John grabs him by the back of his shirt and drags him to the front door. He starts to stir. Kicks out. John kicks him right back, sending him sprawling out onto the front stoop. Your ex sways on his feet, one finger pointed in accusation.

“You—”

“—Are done here,” finishes Price, slamming the door in his face.

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[itsgrimeytime]

feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

[adventuringblind]

Chin Up, Princess (2k words)

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)

Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds

Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!

Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 

She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 

 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 

It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 

He changed her. 

~~~♡~~~

A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 

Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 

“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 

She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 

Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 

“I think you mean for you.” 

Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.

“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 

She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 

He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”

It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 

~~~♡~~~

Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 

A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 

Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 

He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, schat.” 

They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 

Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 

“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 

“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 

“You have always been the chivalrous type.”

Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 

“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”

~~~♡~~~

She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 

Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 

Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 

“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 

She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 

No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 

“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”

Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 

“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”

“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“

Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 

“You asked!”

“And now I regret it…”

Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 

She bolts inside. 

The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 

A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 

Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 

Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 

“Do I have too?”

“Do you want your fathers powers?” 

He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 

“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 

“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 

“So you are a cannibal!” 

Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 

Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 

Not a prince anymore - a king. 

It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 

Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 

Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 

“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 

The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 

Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 

“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Sated. 

Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 

Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 

“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 

“You think? I’d always resented it.” 

“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” 

“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

#maxverstappen.ghoulverse #ghoulverse #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x y/n #mv1 x you #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv33 #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you #mv33 x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #redbull max #redbull racing #redbull #oscar piastri x lando norris #charles leclerc x carlos sainz #oscar piastri #lando norris #charles leclerc #carlos sainz f1 #sebastian vettel

[synthetickitsune]

omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻

thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk

DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader

He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.

The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…

“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.

“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”

He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.

“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.

The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”

“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”

Your smile is sad. He hates it.

“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.

“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”

“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”

You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.

“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”

You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too. 

“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”

He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well. 

“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”

“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”

“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup. 

Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.

“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.

“You got it, Min.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svthub #seventeen x reader #dk scenarios #dk angst #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #svt reactions #svt scenarios #svt angst #drabble #angst #requested

[envysparkler]

“Cass is the favorite.”

Bruce paused in the hallway, head tilted in the direction of the kitchen.  He wasn’t aware that anyone was still up.

“Definitely.”

Bruce was aware that Tim had coordinated tonight’s patrol as Damian was sick with the flu and Bruce was laid up with a couple of injuries—they must’ve just gotten back.

“She can read everything on his face and he never has to say a word—the old man must’ve been thrilled when he found her.”

Bruce frowned.  His plan to return to his bedroom was put on hold as he lurked in the shadow of the den, listening carefully.

“And…Dick is the next favorite.”

“Of course, he’s the Golden Boy.  Follows orders like the perfect soldier.”  There was a dark twist of bitterness to the words.

“Tim’s next.”

“No, it’s definitely Babs.  She’s actually good at her job.”

“Nah, I have to go with Steph.  Babs calls B out on his bullshit.  You, baby bird, melt into the shadows and don’t make a peep.”

“Tim, then Babs.”  When he heard the scratching of pencil on paper, Bruce realized they were actually writing this down.

“Then the demon brat.”

“Depending on what kind of scene he’s caused in the past week.”  A laugh, low and not very amused.

“Then me and Jason.  The outsiders.  Last on the list.”

A scoff.  “No, Blondie, then you.  I’m not on this fucking list.”

“Jason—”

“We’re ranking his kids remember?  Not the vaguely estranged undead mob boss that comes to bail your asses out of trouble.”

“You’re his son, Jason.”  Bruce was gripping the door frame so hard his dislocated shoulder twinged.

“All evidence says otherwise.”

“Well, I’m not his kid either.  So I guess both me and Jason are off this list.”

“You’re his kid, Blondie.  You have a room in this house.”

“I don’t use it.”

“Neither does little Red, and he’s the one running the company.”

“You have a room here too, Jason.”

“No, I have a fucking shrine to the fifteen-year-old kid who was murdered in Ethiopia.”

It landed flat and whatever camaraderie had been underneath the bitterness and snark dissipated instantly.  It left a heavy tension in the air.

“I don’t want it anyway.  Look what happens to the poor bastards at the top of the list.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cass—dear, darling, favorite Cass.  She disappears whenever anyone is talking to B.  Probably too painful to watch.”

“I hadn’t noticed that.”  Quiet.  Guilty.

“And the Golden Boy.  Trying to hold the family together while everybody in it tears it apart.  Timbo here, who’s hoping that if he slinks further into the shadows everyone might actually forget he exists.”

“Hey, I don’t—”

“Babs is stuck working for a boss who constantly undermines her, the demon brat doesn’t know if he should be listening to Dick or Bruce, and you, Blondie, for the great honor of being last on the list, are the only one of us that actually managed to slap B.”

#my snippets #batfam angst #bruce tries to be a good parent #he's not very good at it