#<- stupid fish behavior

[sniffanimal]

I don't like showering in the complete dark bc I am a little clumsy and stuff but I've found the absolute perfect combo is the heat/fan light and blackout shower curtains. just enough light comes out over the rod for me to see, but I still feel like my eyes can catch a fucking break

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[dark-fics-4-you]

Angel

dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation

A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)

Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.

He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.

Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, of course he had said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.

Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.

You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.

“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.

He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.

“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.

“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.

“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.

“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.

Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.

Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.

“I love your costume,” one said.

“You look fantastic tonight.”

“Aw thanks!” You beamed.

“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”

“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.

“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.

“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”

“They were just being nice-”

“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”

The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.

“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.

You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”

“Where are your friends at?”

“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.

“Come right back here, okay?”

“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.

Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.

He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.

Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.

He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.

Shit like this was the reason he did so much blow.

Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.

You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill, he was seeing red.

He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.

When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turned red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.

“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“I- Top was just showing me how to…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.

“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.

“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.

“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.

“Did you have another drink?”

“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.

What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.

He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.

The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.

Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.

Especially fucking Topper.

He should have known better.

Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.

He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.

Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.

When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.

His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.

Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.

He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.

All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.

At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.

He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.

If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.

Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.

He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.

The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.

Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.

These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.

Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.

Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.

He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.

His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.

When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.

He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.

You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.

He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.

But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.

You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.

Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.

You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.

He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he had robbed you of this experience if you ever found out; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.

And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.

But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.

[endearng]

Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock. Ah! I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight pussy, baby, so perfect for me."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

[enderlovez]

Late-Night Genius

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1500+

Summary: During a late night in the BAU, reader finds Spencer hunched over his desk muttering to himself about the deranged killer on the loose, and decides that in the midst of all this carnage, he needs someone to look after him, too.

Content Warning: mentions of death, mutilation of the human body, blood and murder, pocket knife used as a murder weapon, intentional sleep deprivation, strangulation, overworking yourself

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Nine people are already dead, and nobody has a single piece of useful information on the unsub, only that they are — possibly, not definitely — an old white man, which sums up half the human population.

Most of the team, including yourself, have been staying in the office until stupid hours of the morning recently, to try and figure out what you're missing before this mysterious killer takes another victim.

Some believe he's already done so, but the bodies are still unfound.

There are no connections between the victims, except for the fact that each of them are from out of town, but each of them were killed in similar fashions — strangled with a noose made of fishing line, then their throats jaggedly sliced open post-mortem.

All of them were also missing both hands and both feet, hacked off poorly by a pocket knife found near the crime scene. That, however, was not post-mortem, meaning that these poor people were mutilated while still alive, possibly fully aware of what was happening.

It should be impossible that the unsub left no trace with something such as this, but here you are, struggling in the behavioral analysis unit at two in the bloody morning, to come up with what should be the most basic details.

You sigh dejectedly as you relax into your chair, pressing your palm into your nose with a little more force than necessary and tiredly rubbing your shut eyes with your thumb and pointer finger.

Right now, you think you'd do just about anything to be back home in bed — not that you technically can't go home, you're free to go home anytime you please as long as you're back in... later this morning, but you feel an uncomfortable sense of duty to this case.

A sound draws you out of your half-asleep state on the chair, a soft mumbling from the desk adjacent to yours. You begrudgingly peel your eyes open to find Spencer Reid hunched over his desk in a way that definitely can't be good for his back.

His face is twisted up in concentration as his finger runs up and down the page he's reading.

"You're going to give yourself back problems, Spencer," you mumble, using your hands as leverage to push yourself up from your seat. He doesn't look away from the paper in front of him, but hums in acknowledgement, though you're not entirely sure he heard you.

It's probably a really bad idea to be overworking yourself so much, tiring out your body to the point of exhaustion, considering your line of work. But you don't plan on stopping until this killer is behind bars, and apparently as it turns out, neither does Spencer — you can sleep once the risk of another person dying is handled.

With another near-silent sigh, rubbing your hands over your face once more, you grab a few things out of your bag and start making your way towards the exit.

Spencer doesn't ask where you're going, but you feel the need to specify anyway, albeit vaguely.

"I'm heading out for a bit," you whisper over your shoulder, waving your hand around limply. Realistically, you know you should head home like Hotch suggested, catch some sleep before you're back at work, but you just... can't. Exhausted as you may be, you don't think you could sleep even if you tried.

The cool early-morning air against your skin soothes the heat lingering just beneath as you slowly trudge towards your car, hopping into the drivers seat and pulling away from the building. You shouldn't be driving in this state, but you desperately need something to eat.

If Spencer were here, he'd be telling you all about how many people die while driving tired. Probably lightly scold you and insist on driving, even though he's just as, if not more tired than you are.

You're only half-aware as the car takes you away from the building, mind zeroing in on the music playing quietly over the radio. Boring, not something you would ever listen to on your own.

It's a miracle that you're able to reach your destination without getting pulled over — a little twenty-four hour café you frequently visit. Granted, it's usually at more appropriate hours of the morning.

The girl behind the counter looks bored and tired, just over everything and likely wanting to be at home in bed, much like you. As you shuffle up to the register and see her smile falter, you feel pity.

Poor girl probably doesn't get paid enough for this.

"Hello, welcome to Pine and Pastry," she says in a flat voice. "What can I get for you this morning?"

"Hi there, Caroline," you whisper, eyes halfway shut. For a moment she looks surprised that you know her name, before you point to the nametag pinned to her apron.

She writes down your order in sloppy handwriting as you speak — a plain black coffee with a crap ton of sugar for Spencer, and a hazelnut latte for yourself, along with some extra espresso shots in a cup just in case. You also get a couple of breakfast bagels and a box of cinnamon rolls.

It takes her maybe ten minutes to get everything ready, making the coffee, and even going the extra mile to warm up the cinnamon rolls.

"Your total is $34.79," she says, rubbing her eyes with one hand as you place a fifty dollar bill into her other, murmuring a quiet 'keep the change' and grabbing a handful of sugar packets before collecting your things and stepping back outside.

The drive back to work is easier, you're more aware of your surroundings now that you've been off your ass for a little while.

"You're back," Spencer comments softly as you walk back into the office, though he doesn't even look up from the page — a different one than before, but still one he's looked over hundreds of times.

"I'm back," you agree as you set everything down on your desk. He glances up at you once as you place the coffee and breakfast bagel on his side. "I got you some coffee and something to eat."

He watches you for a second before offering a quiet 'thank you', picking up the bagel and taking a bite out of it — still hunched over.

Spencer's eyes widen when you're suddenly beside him, ushering him out of that horrid position and into a chair, holding him up straight for a moment before returning to your own desk.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Spence," you demand softly, looking down at your own files, fully aware of how intently he's staring at you. "It's bad enough that we're keeping ourselves awake at all hours of the night and into the morning, you can't just not eat."

If you're being honest, you've always had a bit of a thing for the genius boy, so seeing him doing so... not well upsets you a lot little.

A small smile appears on his lips as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You already take such good care of me, though," he snipes back playfully, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You really shouldn't drive while this tired, it can actually be worse than—"

"—Worse than driving intoxicated, I know, Spence," you finish for him, rolling your eyes and taking a bite of your own bagel. "I think Hotch might put us on mandatory rest, if we don't get some sleep soon."

Spencer hums in agreement, looking back to the files on the desk in front of him, making a sudden thought spark in your mind.

He doesn't look at you as you stand up again, rounding the desks so you're back on his side, but he does give you a side-eye when you place your hands on his shoulders and start pushing his head down towards the desk.

"What are you doing?" he asks, though he doesn't make any moves to stop your ministrations, folding his arms on the hard surface and letting the side of his head rest atop them.

"You've been working so hard," you whisper soothingly, gently squeezing his shoulders in what you hope is a comforting gesture, "just give your mind a minute to rest — and I know you'll say you don't need it, but maybe it'll help you think better."

He bites his bottom lip a little before giving in, letting his eyes close. "Maybe if it's just a minute," he agrees quietly, voice already drifting off into silence. He's out like a light before he can stop it.

With a small, tender smile on your face, you use your finger to brush some of his hair out of his face and let your thumb briefly stroke over his temple.

He's so absolutely, heartbreakingly adorable when he's sleeping, you realize, heart stuttering and eyes watering at the sight before you. His face is no longer twisted in concentration, rather soft and peaceful.

Just because you're tired, doesn't mean poor Spencer needs to be, not if you have any say in the matter.

He might be slightly upset with you when he wakes up, even if it's only brief, but all of that's fine if it means he'll get at least a little bit of sleep.

Humming a quiet little tune to yourself, you return to your desk and continue your work where you left off.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[yanderes-galore]

Self aware Arthur hcs

Arthur Morgan my beloved.... 🥺

Yandere! Self-Aware! Arthur Morgan Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Self-Aware yandere, Stalking, Possessive/Protective behavior, Kidnapping/Isolation, Forced relationship.

Arthur is, story-wise, the first playable RDR protagonist who could be self-aware.

At first he probably doesn't realize he's meant to be your host.

He's essentially your puppet, one for you to use to interact with his world.

It's a weird experience....

For example, Arthur no doubt experienced death countless times.

Be that from you accidentally getting him killed or something story related...

Arthur experiences each loaded save like it's some sort of nightmare or dream.

When Arthur begins noticing something off, like deja vu or events that should have killed him...

That's when he senses you.

He's no longer just another piece of code, he's more alive than all the rest.

Like a virus he's given sentience, which can soon spread to John and Jack once you swap characters or games.

Arthur has trouble comprehending it all at first.

Yet soon he ends up growing attached to your presence on the other side of the screen.

It has a certain familiarity to it.

It's amusing the amount of things Arthur lets you do to him.

One of my favorites is the fact that RDR2 has such a focus on outfits.

There's times when you aren't doing a mission that you'll drag Arthur to a clothing store or barber shop.

Arthur originally finds it degrading.

He's a hardened killer, a murderer, an outlaw...

But you're doing him up and cleaning him, making him look civilized.

Eventually he actually doesn't mind it.

Admittedly he's flustered at the fact you can SEE the bathing scene since he feels your presence there... yet grows used to it.

If anything that may coax romantic feelings towards his player since you're seeing him at his most vulnerable.

Most of Arthur's life ends up revolving around you, actually.

He quite literally experiences multiple lifetimes with you.

There's times you make him a better person... times you make him worse than he ever was...

Then there's times you accidentally toss him off a cliff looking for dinosaur bones.

There's a good amount of experiences Arthur has had with you.

He can hear your every mutter to yourself too, along with whenever you walk away from the game to process something.

He's intrigued that deaths in this game affect you as much as him... even if it's not the first time you saw them.

Arthur's surprised by how attached he's gotten to you.

He often listens to you speak, sometimes even addressing him.

You'll sometimes ridicule you and him for a wrong button press, or laugh about something stupid...

Arthur has lost count of how many times you ran his horse into a tree....

However, seeing your reaction is almost worth it.

I imagine with Arthur, the more times you play, the more his sentience develops.

Soon he's finding ways to alter his environment... which he then uses to interact with you.

If he considered anyone his partner, it's you.

You've seen pretty much every part of him by this point... every desire.

He even misses you when you're away from the game for months... or years.

Gaining more control of his environment should be able to help limit that.

Arthur loves doing nearly everything with you.

He learns to enjoy fishing, hunting, the games, you making him all fancy...

Hell, the robberies are fun too.

He hates to admit it at first... but he's infatuated with a person out of his world.

Once Arthur can alter the game, I imagine he'd try to lock you in Chapter 2?

Most of the gang is alive and Micah's in jail.

In fact, Arthur just ends up barring you from Micah's mission altogether.

He'd rather him rot there, honestly.

Arthur may even make other objectives available that normally are only available in other chapters or with John.

Surprise! You can go past Blackwater now as Arthur.

He may even just make the whole game available to you just to keep you playing as him.

Which I imagine pisses John off later.

He originally does subtle changes which makes you wonder if you accidentally modded your game or not...

Only for him to soon just overhaul the whole thing.

Why not go further?

What if he pulls a Monika from DDLC at times and pauses the game to talk to you directly.

He likes checking in on you, even if you are currently terrified.

You can't shut down your device, he disabled that.

He may just calmly sit in camp, locking the camera in front of him as he chats with you.

Truth is, he's wanted to do this for a long while.

He's always wanted your attention.

Surely you understand, right?

Don't you also feel a pull towards him?

No? Well... He can change that too.

Arthur technically stalks you.

When you're sleeping or cleaning he discreetly turns on your device to watch you.

He likes keeping an eye on you.

In a way he's protective of you.

Although, once he finds a way to drag you into his digital reality...

He may just end up a bit possessive too.

If you stay in your world, Arthur could lose you.

Another game may grab your attention, or maybe another person will have your heart.

Then he won't matter to you anymore.

He can't accept that thought, not when he's experiencing something so real.

This would be, even if I feel it's unrealistic, what drives him to abduct you into the game.

Arthur would make you part of the gang and protect you like you’re partners.

That, or, he changes everything.

You'd get to live in a house... he'd be your man... and he'd have you isolated all to himself.

He adores you, always has since he became aware of you.

Trying to escape? There's nowhere to go.

He'll use invisible barriers to keep you where he wants you just for your safety.

But there's no way you're going home.

In your world, it just seems you've vanished.

In reality, you're trapped by a video game character and forced to be his lover.

Arthur tries his best to be good to you.

He holds you close, cuddles you at night, kisses you lovingly.

Who knows, maybe he can figure out how to convince you your real life was fake.

That way, he won't have to worry about you trying to escape or hating him.

You'll be all his to keep, to love, to cherish...

Now you'll never leave again.

[lathez]

RANKING SKYRIM FISH (IMPORTANT INFORMATION)

24-22: SLAUGHTER FISH, SCORPION FISH, VAMPIRE FISH

These most horrible and reprehensible creatures deserve the worst and most torturous deaths imaginable. Found in caves, rivers, and around castle Volkihar, they are truly the scum of NIRN. THESE FISH FUCKING HORRIBLE!!

21-19: BROOK BASS, POGFISH, SALMON

These fish are most disgusting and vile. The brook bass, with it's flacid appearance, is one of Kyne's most awful creations, but not as awful as the fucking stupid pogfish, which should be killed always. The salmon serves no purpose but to be feasted upon. It's purpose is to die and this is suitable as it is simply awful and horrible and sick!

18-16: ANGLER, LURKER, ARCTIC GRAYLING

While unique in appearance the Angler is just bad so bad and perhaps to retrieve it you may have to swim all the way down to Pilgrim's Trench which is most scary and TERRIBLE!!! I will not speak on the demonic LURKER!!!! AND THE ARCTIC GRAYLING IS UGLY AS FUCK!!!!

15-13: GLASS CATFISH, CARP, ARCTIC CHAR

I am not partial to these tres fischés FOR MANY REASONS. The feelers on the glass catfish are just unnecessary what are they feeling??? Perhaps sadness at their horrible horrible form??? The Carp with it's frightening eye is actually a Koi Carp which makes it A TRAITOR. PUT TO DEATH BY FIRING SQUAD. The Arctic char is fine ig.

12-10: COD, DIREFISH, GOLDFISH

These fish say nothing and mean nothing. They are unobtrusive but are perhaps resented due to their unwillingness to take a stance. Perhaps they may be permitted to live should they continue their kind and gentile and simple behaviors. But they are also on thin ice. For torture.

9-7: SPADEFISH, PYGMY SUNFISH, TRIPOD SPIDERFISH

These fish have taken a stance, however they have taken the wrong stance. They have gambled poorly and now they are most mid and bad I do think. The Tripod Spiderfish is terrible in its way it creeps upon the floors of Blackreach it is a bottom feeder and should be wholly and truly ashamed as it did nothing to aid the falmer during their torture and torment and it is complicit I am afraid yes.

6-4: GLASSFISH, ANGELFISH, PEARLFISH

These 3 runner ups would prove to be most excellent friends and companions and would perhaps be a lovely creature in which to gently hold within the water. The Pearlfish is quite sweet and most loving and it is good and it is blessed by Kyne.

3-1: ANGLER LARVAE, LYRETAIL ANTHIAS, CATFISH

Our Top 3 fish are simply a delight to behold and also physically hold if you so desire. Although the Angler Larvae will grow up to be sick and twisted in it's child form it has suffered no trauma and deserves love until it evolves into its most awfulness. The Lyretail with its soft lovely belly only wishes for friendship and Dibella kissed it once.

But none can beat the simple and humble Catfish, that is a bit nervous but is hoping for your friendship and affection. Won't you befriend him today?

*Histcarp and other 3 boring ass vanilla fish not included cause idgaf about them!!

[iayos]

𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐄𝐖𝐖) !

jjk boys and their icks… because no man is perfect…

jjk boys x implied fem!reader

cw : men being gross, slight nsfw in nanami’s part, very mild misogyny if you squint in megumi’s part, this post was literally just so i could rant kinda

a / n : long time no see… not much to say other than i’ve been busy !!! anyways hope you enjoy :)

yuji itadori - bad grammar

giving him the tamest one tbh because he’s such a sweetheart </3 idk why but i feel like he just has such shitty grammar… like he’s smart ! just not when it comes to grammar. for example, he mixes up his to, too, and two’s, his there’s, and don’t get me started on your vs you’re :/ again he’s the sweetest boy ever ! it’s just the fact he probably failed his lit classes…

megumi fushiguro - “females”…

i was so close to giving this to satoru but i didn’t cause he has shoko to hold him down, megumi on the other hand… look, i don’t think he’d say it in front of girls, but to other dudes, yk ? and i definitely don’t think it’s on purpose to try and be an asshole but it just happens. quickly unlearns it when he says it around maki though.

yuta okkotsu - referring to himself in third person

you guys know how elmo is like, “elmo wants to go to the park,” yeah… yuta does this. and no, it’s not ironically. he definitely thinks it’s cute too and sometimes it is ! but it’s to an extent. like it’s cute the first couple times where he is goes, “yuta loves you,” but then it gets weird and corny when he’s like, “yuta wants to get dinner,” like ermmmm ok…

toge inumaki - fish pics.

as someone who lives in those south i see these OFTEN. for those who don’t know, fish pics are basically when dudes hold up fish they caught while fishing and post pictures of them holding it… i think the main problem with this to me is that a lot of very weird and racist men do it, so that’s why i hate it. anyways i’m 90% sure he has an official art where he’s holding a fish ( i also didn’t know what ick to give him ).

satoru gojo - his height is his whole personality

this shit irks me so bad omg. as someone who’s short ( 5’0 ) and hates seeing other short people make their whole personality their height, it’s even worst when it’s a tall person. satoru is definitely the type to be like, “omg guysss i bumped my head otw hereeee i’m so tallll,” like no you’re just stupid ! he definitely has other icks but this was the main one i could think of… ik he gets on everyone’s nerves.

suguru geto - says “my bad” instead of “im sorry”

another personal one tbh. i hate hate hate when people do this especially if it’s something serious. i remember one time someone pushed me in the mud ( i didn’t fully go on, just my foot ) and i got mud all over my white shoes and they have the audacity to go, “my bad,” like yeah it is your bad lmao. anyways, suguru def does this often especially to shoko. i feel like he’s pretty clumsy and say if shoko’s studying and he knocks over a drink onto her books he’ll say “my bad” and not even attempt to help her clean it up. like dude at least say sorry or something idk ???

nanami kento - calls his dick anything but a dick

“my member” you are grown !!! say dick !!! he does it to be ‘classy’ but like, he is pushing 30 doing this, just say dick. i also think it’s a shame thing ? idk probably hanging out with stsg for most of his teen years rotted his brain so he hates hearing really nasty stuff but he won’t even say penis half the time. like it’s really not that serious nobody wants to call your dick a phallus ( it was also really hard to give him an ick ).

choso - using 🥺 / 🥹

oh BROTHERRRR this one pisses me off. i hate both of those emojis in general but especially when men do it, it’s cornball behavior. like aren’t you supposed to be fighting in wars ? stand up. but i don’t think he has any ill intentions at all, honestly just picks emojis that represent his mood often. however he definitely uses 😂 instead of 😭… sorry choso…

song : ick - lay bankz

[serxinns]

Ok sorry if I'm taking up some time but something related to a picture I saw has literally been on my mind and I need some sorta short fanfic about it 😭

So basically, Yandere Fantasy AU Bakusquad where they are all dragons (Except Bakugou being a Barbarian) and a traveler reader who is incredibly hurt so is under the care of them all.

I mainly want this because I recently broke my wrist (which is now healed up) and idk 😭🙏

The Lost Traveler

Yandere! fantasy Bakusquad x gn! reader

A/n: I kinda went off on this onw hehe but I hope it was worth the wait! I hope you enjoy!

Tw!⚠️: injuries, reader getting hurt, weapons, drowning, possessive and obsessive behavior, stripping off clothes (in a non sexual way ofc) nudity (if you count reader being in their undergarments, yandere behavior, and more don't read if you can't handle it

"After them!" You heard a man yell out to his group as they chased you, but you didn't look back you didn't want to look back your main priority was safety you looked around the woods to see if there was any hiding spot but to no avail, the men kept shooting their arrows towards you as you barely dodged them. You held on to your bag tightly you didn't know how you had come to this conclusion you just went into town trying to grab some things and these men tried to rob your mother's spellbook so you kicked one of them in the groin he released you from his grasp and you continued to run

"I got this" one of the men grabbed their bow and arrow, your eyes widened in horror as he aimed for your leg and you were getting ready to dodge untill a sharp pain hit you in your upper leg you screamed in agony and dropped to the floor clutching your foot the bandits all surrounded you chucking you grabbed the book tightly not wanting those monsters getting it

"Now, now, brat, why don't you be smart and give us the book, and we'll let you go"gt.he man had a devious grin on his facfaceu spat at him, "fuck you, you'll have to kill me 1st!" The bandits snicker and laughed "Very well then.." one of the men got a weapon and held itches towards your neck your eyes widen trying to squirm off from his grasp but he pinned you against the tree hard with a final attempt you kicked him in the groin with ur shoe his grasp became loose as he howled in pain now clutching his area kneeling, "you little shit..." the crew all held their swords at you you the began crawling backward with the book praying they'll be someone to protect you

You then began to slip on something; you quickly looked behind you to see a waterfall right behind you, you gasped, wanting to crawl back, but the bandits were in front. You were at a dead end "Nowhere, the run, little shit, just give us the book!" He sneered, you had to act fast for you and the book, you look at the waterfall again hesitant you began crawling closer and closer waterfall until you felt the cliff and the loud crashing water beneath you, one of the bandits snicker th t up to what you were about to do "don't do anything stupid ya hear just give us the damn book!" He shouted you looked at him with one last glare and let your whole body go holding the book tight while you fall

You closed your eyes ready for the impact and pain, you landed in the roaring water you desperately tried gasping for air using your good arm to swim back up for air but it'd currents were too strong you tried grabbing some sort of branch or rock but kept crashing into them hard your body began to feel tired and ur eyes droopy from all the pain and energy "is this how I die.." you thought as you slowly close your eyes surrendering to the wrath of the water as they took you

...

"Aha! Gotcha!" The dragon yelled as she caught a fish with her claws she examined the fish making sure it was big enough for her friends and place it in the bucket her stomach growled in hunger she looked down and then looked at the fish, "..one fish wouldn't hurt" mina looked both ways and all around when the coast was clear she grabbed a small fish and was about toneat until a voice called her "Pink scales you better not be eating our dinner like shitty scales!" The Man said angrily, "Ughh bakugo, it was just gonna be one!" Mina whined as she reluctantly dropped the fish

"One less of our dinner!" He scolded, taking the bucket and carrying it with him. "Plus, it looked like you already had some!" He looked at her with a hard glare as she smiled sheepishly the barbarian was about to yell at her until he spotted something floating in the water he shoved the dragon away to view it closer he realized that it was a human being floating around in the river katsuki quickly went in the river not caring about hid clothes getting dragging the human out of the water "it's that a human?! Are they breathing?" She shrieked looking worriedly and concerned

Katsuki then felt the human skin it was cold..katsuki then led his head toward its chest the heart was still beating but it was barely breathing.."Mina take the human to our cottage.." he ordered Mina nodded and quickly placed you on her back and transformed into her dragon form katsuki then hopped on her back and signaled her to fly, she then carefully launched into the air making sure nobody falls then soared through the sky

As they were soaring, Katsuki took the time to examine you; it seemed like you were not from here but maybe from another region judging by your clothes, and he didn't mention it, but there was a book in the human's hands. He observed it closely. It seemed like it was from a powerful being..but he didn't know where it was from, until then he may have to keep it for a while just in case for safety

Mina roared making Katsuki snap out of his thoughts when he looked up he realized that they were home he grabbed you and jumped off Mina while steam came out of her turning her back into her human form they carried the human to the house and placing them on the couch "Mina take off through clothes and check for bruises" Mina nodded she carefully took off your closes leaving you with only your undergarments on she blushed a but reminded herself to focus, the poor human was covered in red and purple bruises and had a broken wrist Mina gaze soften feeling pity for then poor human

"The human has a bunch of bruises and a broken wrist" Bakugo scoffed "that probably gonna take half of my healing power so I'm only gonna heal them on certain areas and patch up the others letting them heal themselves" bakugo then let Mina carry the unconscious human to give them a warm bath, bathing off the dirt and gunk in their hair and gently handling them with the best of her abilities the most she saw the bruises the more angrier she seems how dare someone could do this to a precious little thing when she was done she quickly wrapped them up in a towel and carry them in the bedroom where there were already a set of warm clothes for them to wear..

....

You were panicking all you could see was black you couldn't move your body it was like you were wrapped in something, it was suffocating, you tried to scream but you couldn't hear your own voice nor you couldn't hear anything just emptyness and eerie silence, you wanted to get out of here you wanted to see if you have that spellbook you wanted to survive, are you even alive anymore?! You were breathing rapidly wondering what did you do you be in this hell

Then a soft humming rang in your ear it sounded...familiar like something your mother would do to comfort you when you were feeling ill or had a very bad day, the humming made you calm..peaceful even, your panicking began to die down as well as your breathing you squirm around trying to break free from whoever or whatever is trapping you but to no avail, then saw some light in your vision it became bigger and lighter...

You slowly opened your eyes, all you could see was a blurry red figure hovering over you humming the same tune you heard back there you blinked a couple of times to get your vision more clear, and there standing above you was a boy with red scales forming on his shoulders and large pointy like horns with red eyes staring the back at you, with a yelped you tried squirming away but her strong hands were keeping you still "Please don't struggle your weak at the moment" he said petting your hair softly trying to calm you down

"Where am i.." the red hair chuckled as if that was a silly question to ask "your home can't you tell?" He answered softly as he continued to hum confused you were about to ask what did he mean by that untill another voice could be heard "did the human wake up yet" there revealed a another dragon with blonde hair and a black lighting strike on he turned his attention towards you and his eyes brighten "they're so small!" He has as he poked your cheeks curiously wanting to feel what a human skin felt like "they're also soft as well!" He giggled happily the red haired dragon quickly swat his friends hand away as the dragon whined

"They're still healing Kaminari be gentle!" Kiri scolded him The yellow dragon softly glared at him jealous from the red dragon hogging you "would you stop fighting infront them? the poor thing is barely gaining conscious" there appeared a dragon with black hair scolding at the 2 dragons "now come on the foods almost ready" he said as he gaze at you with a soft smile the headed back to the kitchen ok now you were confused who were these people? Why are they're saying this is your new home? Are you going crazy or what

Your thoughts were then interrupted again with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen and plop you down to your chair you awkwardly thanked him as he happily sat down at his spot, that's when smell of the food hit your nostrils it smelled so good you even drooled a bit which you quickly wiped off with your arm embrassed hoping nobody noticed that "heh someone's hungry" the dragon away you assumed to be Sero said smirking at you as your face lit up in embrassament you looked away

"Well I haven't eaten in a few days of course I'm gonna be hungry" you protested as the black dragon chuckled "whatever you say sweets" he shrugged laying against the chair patiently waiting for the meal "dinners ready!" A loud booming voice was heard a blonde male with orange eye "Guess the little shit is awake" he grumbled "Katsuki language! Don't call the human that!" Kirishima scolded katsuki scoffed

"Don't fucking tell me what to do shitty hair you ain't the boss of me!" He said yelled the two started bickering back and forth while Kirishima wrapped his Strong arm around you protectively you tried pushing it off but it seems like he was too busy to noticed or he didn't care "boys stop arguing when our human is awake!" "Yea I bet they're starving right about now!" A purple dark then came in along with a bubbly pink dragon skipping in the kitchen the 2 boys shut themselves up and they then fix yourself and themselves a meal

it was cooked fish with a side of veggies the aroma was addictive making you go wild, fish wasn't always your favorite meal but those last few days of living off of eating berries and small animals this was a actual proper meal for you you devoured the food in seconds not noticing how the others were cooing and just adoring how cute you were, after the meal you were about to head yourself out grabbing your spellbook and thanking the kind people for the care untill a hand grabbed you by the shoulder

"And where the fuck are you going?" Bakugo said with a stern tone "Uh I'm going out I need to get back home" "in this condition? Your still hurt pumpkin no way we're gonna let you go out exposing yourself to the dangers" you didn't noticed jirou infront of the door now everyone else gathered around you looking weirdly at you...

"Why don't you stay for a few nights atleast untill your injuries healed!" Kirishima suggested you thought about it for a moment the trip back home would take rather long considering that you barely even know your way back they then carried you off to their bed all cuddling next to you

You were their human now you were a gift for them and them only those monsters are gonna pay for what they done to their little darling~

[hminnj]

Unckuna/reader (he's very dear to my heart), mostly uncle nephew banter tbh, i needa get dividers lowkey, very short lil drabble

-

Sukuna thinks he's lost his mind.

He means it figuratively, obviously. But at this point he's sure he should've physically lost it already.

His nephew- of which he is currently babysitting- is currently on his couch, not a care in the world, half empty family sized bag of chips that was unopened not too long ago (fatface), kicking his feet like an adolescent boy in love, greasy fingers on the remote, and scrolling through youtube shorts on the tv???

Oh and worst of all he forgot to mention, the brat is wearing shoes.

The fact that he's even related to this thing makes him want to kill everyone else in the room and then himself.

"Itadori Yuji..." Sukuna seethes, it takes everything in him to not rip the brat's skeleton right out of his skin. He thinks it would be easy, if only a certain three people would let him (a shame, truly).

Yuji spares him a glance (the disrespect).

"Oh whats up unc"

"And what do you think you're doing?" The older of the two walks over and blocks the view of the tv, glaring down with his hands on his hips.

Yuji stares for a moment before opening his stupid food hole (as Sukuna describes it), "Have you ever seen that one meme, no one looks good from below? Well you're the version where they-"

Sukuna promptly picks him up by his foot, shaking him as a few chip bits fall off Yuji's shirt, "I literally just cleaned the house you freeloading fiend. Have you seen what a mess you've made?"

"You clean the house everyday you freak. Now put me down! I swear I was gonna clean up afterwards anyways." Yuji attempts to wiggle his way out of Sukuna's grip, he gets nowhere (predictably).

"Brat. You don't even know where the vacuum is, were you planning on picking them up one by one?"

"Ugh you're such a housewife, if I didn't know any better I'd assume you- MMM"

The sound of the code being put into the front door quickly stops Sukuna who shoves his free hand into Yuji's face, effectively shutting him up as well.

Sukuna grins when he sees you walk in, holding Yuji as if he were a first place catch for the annual bass fishing competition.

The sight makes you pause and contemplate your life decisions.

"Sukuna... put Yuji down, all the blood's rushing to his head."

Yuji is dropped immediately.

"OWWWWWWWW"

Your eyes trail around the living space and then back to the two children, "Does someone want to explain what's happening? And why there are shoe tracks in my house?" You make eye contact with your husband (who practically regresses 15 years in age when your nephew is around), he looks at you then uses his middle finger to point at Yuji.

Said boy, still recovering on the floor, whines, "Mann why can't I have a cool wine aunt and normal uncle?"

"Yuji if I were a wine aunt I wouldn't even be your aunt. Now are you gonna clean up this mess or should I make you?"

"On it! Whatever you say ma'am!" Yuji scrambles away after saluting and then pops back up from the hallway, realizing something crucial.

"Where are the cleaning supplies again?"

You sigh.

.

Yuji's finished with cleaning when he joins (intrudes, in Sukuna's words) you and his uncle on the couch, another episode of criminal minds running in the background.

You've changed from your work clothes into something more comfortable, snuggled into Sukuna's side as you start, "You know, if Spencer existed in real life I'd consider leaving you for him."

The tattooed man can only cringe in disgust at your behavior, "We're literally married, woman. You would leave me for that??"

He gives you and the tv an incredulous look. You can only giggle at his reaction, "You're like a child sometimes." His disapproval worsens, and you consider continuing to tease him but go with your better judgement (before he decides not to cook dinner, even though he always does anyways).

"I'm sorry hubby, forgive me?" Sukuna scoffs but accepts the affection anyways, he always does.

Yuji's voice interrupts the moment, "Ew you guys are so nasty (his parents are way worse), but speaking of children... when am I gonna get a cousin?"

The young boy can only watch as you two glance at each other then back at him, casually dropping an "Oh, Soon" then moving on completely. It takes him a second to process.

"WHAT."

-

unckuna my love

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated :]

thank you for reading, have a blessed week

not fully proofread or edited

[darlingdekarios]

hibernate.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,152 content: Arthur Morgan x f!reader, animal hunting mentions, cannon-accurate outlaw behavior, cowboy meet cute, Arthur Morgan is a simp, snowed in, fluff, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], kink(s) [spit as lube]

it was like fate insisted on the two of you colliding.

The first time you’d met Arthur Morgan was a lovely March night in New Hanover, opportunities abound as the hustle and bustle of life was at its highest point of the year, the weather the most tolerable for moving about. Returning from an evening of fishing now that the water wasn’t frozen in some areas and sketching birds by the river when he stumbled across a lone figure boarding train – well after midnight. He followed on horseback under the cover of trees in anticipation, joined by your own horse shortly after. He followed alongside with a hold of the strange horse’s reins until the train came to a stop. 

He'd strained to hear you, considered boarding after you to clean up any straggling guards – it wasn’t his business, so he didn’t – but curiosity held him close. When the sound of police approaching quickly began you emerged to the top of the train, looking around desperately for your horse. Temporarily frozen when the moonlight caught your face and confirmed to the man that you were a woman, he recovered just in time to spring into action.

It had been Arthur who had led your horse to you and instructed you to follow. It was Arthur’s path that led you away from the law and eventually far enough away to be free of their hunting.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, lady?” he questioned when the two of you slowed side-by-side under the cover of thick trees, his face hard-set and stern. “You coulda gotten yourself tossed away for a long time back there.”

“I didn’t, though,” you laughed, and despite the feeling that burned in him that he couldn’t quite place as anger or worry Arthur’s stomach flipped at the sound and the way your laugh reached your eyes. You adjusted your hat with a playful smile on your lips, keeping the reins to your horse in one hand. 

“Thanks to me,” he asserted, the stress causing him to light up a cigarette and adjust his hat. His eyes caught your gaze and you held it, appreciating his handsome features for a moment as your smile twisted wider.

“I would’ve figured it out, cowboy – you can be sure of that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ve seen your face on ‘wanted’ posters, Mr. Morgan,” you proclaimed, tone proud as you called him on his identity. He took another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward comfortably in his saddle, outstretching a hand toward you. 

“Arthur,” he offered, amusement flashing across his features when you shook his hand firmly. “And I’ve seen yours, too. What is it they call you…?”

“The Panther,” you replied, that proud tone ever-present in your voice. “A nice tribute to my best hunt.”

His poker face was too well-trained to reveal that he was impressed – that he was intrigued.

“Well next time you go thinkin’ of doing something so goddamn stupid like rob a train at midnight alone,” he began, gruff voice filled with frustration as he attempted to present his unamused façade. “You could invoke that particular nickname and be a little more subtle.”

The second time was just as circumstantial. It was July – the heat sweltering, the air sticky, the fireflies sparkling in fields at night. You’d been riding for days, hunting gators in the swamps for weeks and now headed back to a more familiar area where you felt more at home. Just past Emerald Ranch you’d spotted him on the road ahead – his hat unmistakable and burned into your mind, his horse giving away his identity to anyone who knew it. 

There was no questioning if he’d want your company – you didn’t even give it a thought. Instead, you’d hastened your own horse to catch up with him.

“Where ya headed, cowboy?” you questioned as you approached from behind, adjusting your hat back on your head to offer more of your face to him. Your voice immediately sent a shiver down his spine, the barely-there smile crossing his features unmissed by you.

Four months trying to remember your face and voice hadn’t done it any justice.

“Valentine,” he replied, slowing his horse’s stride to match yours. The two of you set a lazy pace, in no real hurry to get anywhere. “You following me now, cat?”

“Like I ain’t got better things to do, Mr. Morgan?” you joked, nose scrunching as you smiled. The Summer sun had done beautiful things for your color, he noted. “Give you $50 and shine your guns if you can beat me there.”

“Are you tryin’ to race me?” he questioned with a subtle laugh, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Won’t be much of a race, cowboy.”

He let out a real, genuine, albeit short laugh at that. The sound filled the air around you, made birds vacate trees. Your heart soared away alongside them.

“And what is it you want if you win?”

“A nice bottle of whisky,” you replied after a brief moment of thought, reaching your hand to rub your horse’s neck gently. Arthur had forgotten how gentle your hands were with everything they touched – the rediscovery lighting up his mind. “And a hot meal at your camp.”

“Can’t promise the gang’ll let you eat at camp without drinking, too.”

“Which is why I asked for a bottle of whisky,” you remarked, that shit-eating grin he was starting to love spreading on your face again. “Do we have a deal?”

“Hope your horse is fast enough to back up that mouth of yours,” he quipped back, intentionally antagonizing you as he started to pick up the speed slightly. “Or that you’ve got plenty of gun oil.”

You shot forward then, the dust of the road kicking up behind you as you left Arthur behind on a road you both knew well. In reality he could’ve caught you – could’ve even won if he’d pushed his horse hard enough – but the sound of your laughter in the cool evening air was reason enough to lose. 

It wasn’t a surprise when you crossed over into the town first.

“You cheated,” he argued as he approached, allowing his horse to slow to a reasonable speed for being around other people. “Got a head start. Doesn’t count.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, reaching up to remove his hat to resituate his wind-blown hair. You were momentarily transfixed on his fingers running through the strands that looked soft – maybe in need of a wash but soft nonetheless – but quickly wished he’d left it messy. “Weren’t mean you didn’t get a head start, cat.”

“Oh, like a couple steps mattered,” you entered an easy banter with him, just like the two of you had done in the Spring. He’d missed it – hadn’t realized how much he had until then. “Coulda given you a five-minute head start and still would’ve beat you and that slowpoke horse you ride.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re difficult?” 

“Heard it a couple times,” there was that smile again – the nose crinkling one. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep his thoughts to himself with you smiling that way – at him. You jumped down from your stallion and hitched him with ease, feeding the massive animal a small snack in appreciation of his efforts. “I can compromise. I buy the whisky, but I still get a hot meal at your camp.”

He pondered your proposal only briefly before nodding, letting out an affirmative huff in agreeance. “I’ll meet you at the butcher when you’re done.”

You gave your horse a gentle pat and nodded, turning back to meet his gaze. “Sell that fox pelt I have up on Scratch, will ya?”

Easy. Simple. Honest. Sensible. Arthur loved having you around camp that night – and the night after when you’d been convinced to stay again by the women – though it was hardly just them that enjoyed your company. You’d made easy companions in the camp with your sharp tongue and ability to hold your alcohol. You had plenty of stories to share with Arthur’s chosen family – each one of them genuinely interesting to the gang.

Everyone knew the fact Arthur had brought you around meant you were a good person. The beauty was a bonus, he’d been informed in privacy. He’d only told Sean to shut his mouth in response. Arthur slept by the fire that night so you could sleep in his cot, and if anyone else in the gang saw the way he’d sat up for at least an hour with his eyes transfixed on your sleeping figure in his bed. 

It was Fall, October to be exact, the next time he heard from you – this time you had taken fate into your own hands to seek out his company. He was certain he’d never be able to dispose the letter you’d penned and sent to his camp.

Dear Arthur, Kinda strange to call you “dear”, huh?  Anyway, I have a job comin’ up in Saint Denis that involves me boarding a train quite late at night and remembering our conversation earlier this year I thought I may ask you to join.  Job is planned for the night of October 18, the Saturday after next. I’ll meet you the Friday before at the saloon in Van Horn if you plan on joining me.  I do hope you join me.  Hope that gang of yours isn’t being too rough on you. 

He arrived in Van Horn a day early and rented himself a room – and a bath – so he was prepared for the meeting. He was in the saloon before you, his chest clenching as you walked in through the swinging doors. 

You’d taken a page from his book and clearly bathed recently as well, and you were dressed for the first time in front of him in feminine attire. The sight of you in a skirt shouldn’t have affected him the way it did – it was embarrassing for a man his age. It didn’t prevent the pressure building at his waist, nor did it stop him from speaking his mind.

“You had to wear that damn skirt, didn’t ya?” he questioned when you joined him, a smile spreading across your face. It was hardly a gentlemanly way to greet you, but then again, he was hardly a gentleman. “Knew what you were doin’ puttin’ that on with me coming in today…”

“You complained so much about the pants last time I figured I’d save myself the headache,” you replied, sliding into a chair next to him and crossing your legs for emphasis. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kitten,” he’d practically purred – a new tone between the two of you. There was no denying that you wanted to hear it more, and you nearly chose to forget the real reason you were now sitting beside him. 

“I need to look the part tomorrow for the job,” you replied quickly, eager to squash the tension now building between the two of you, unwilling to allow the job to go forgotten. There was too much money at stake. “Have to board a real nice train when it leaves out of Saint Denis tomorrow night. There’s a safe onboard I’d like to get my hands into.”

“Can’t just rob it the old-fashioned way?”

“Someone didn’t like the last time I did that,” you teased, feeling pleased with the smile it earned. “Figured I’d board and crack the safe.”

“Why you need me then?”

“Need someone to play my husband and keep watch while I’m workin’ on the safe.”

“Your husband,” he huffed out with another laugh, a brief shake to his head. The term had always been silly to him, just as silly as the idea of marriage was to you as a whole, really – and yet, there was no denying the clench in both of your chests at the mere thought. The imaginary suggestion manifested in brief images of domesticity, the vision of you sleeping in his cot in July flashing in his mind. 

You didn’t miss the slight redness to his cheeks, he didn’t miss how your smile fluttered into something laced with affection. For all your joking demeanor, it was still clear that there was some secretive sincerity beneath the surface – that you cared for Arthur. And on Arthur’s part, well…he wouldn’t ride across the country to work for just anyone.

“Yes,” you replied when you’d pulled yourself from the depths of his eyes. “A woman travelling with her husband is far less likely to draw attention than if I were alone.”

You thought there would be some protest, though if you’d seen even a fraction of the thoughts Arthur had conjured up in the preceding months you’d never have to question it. To you what seemed to be him conceding was actually the outlaw taking a step he’d long considered taking with you the next chance he got. 

Arthur just wanted to spend time with you – there were probably very few things he’d say no to right now in regard to you. He wouldn’t go admitting that out loud anytime soon either. 

“Fine, I’ll go along with your little plan. Only so you don’t go gettin’ yourself arrested.”

“Great!” you exclaimed, the brightness that covered your face blinding but serving as confirmation that he was making the right choice. The money he was sure to get would be a bonus, too. “I got you a wedding ring. Looks like it’ll fit. You can sell it when the job’s done, as a thank you.”

“You get it off a dead body?”

“He didn’t need it anymore.”

There was that goddamn feeling in his chest again. 

This was the fourth time destiny had crossed your path with Arthur Morgan’s. 

Now, the ring still lay in the outside pouch of his satchel, the cool metal brushing against the tips of his calloused fingers often daily in a physical reminder of you. Today, feeling the pull of being apart from you for four months now and into the new year, he’d been clutching the metal in his gloved hands as he led his horse through the far North. Seeking the solitary bliss of being alone in the mountains for the winter, he had opted to simply ride and camp, sketching in his journal and enjoying the snow dusted scenery. Arthur’s plan was soon thwarted as a snowstorm began to roll in.

He'd been riding along the same worn path to make his way down the mountain when he noticed horse tracks leading into the thick forest – a horse, by the look of it, with no reemergence to be seen. Opting to do the honorable thing, Arthur pursued the trail, weaving through trees atop his own horse until he came to a small clearing where you were setting predator bait.

He didn’t know the kind of words to describe the way he felt seeing you right in front of him.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, cat?” 

If he had a way with words, he’d tell you that your smile was brighter than the sun itself – fleeting shooting stars, the North Star when he’s lost. 

“That’s not the first time you’ve asked me that question, Mister Morgan,” you replied, standing up and patting your horse as your gaze remained transfixed on him now. Even at this distance you could see the blue in his coat had electrified his eyes, the tone a perfect match for the world around you. You found it hard to form any further rebuttal. 

“Won’t be the last either, given you’re doing something fucking crazy every time I see you,” he teased, finally giving into the natural ease he felt with you. The light air between the two of you had finally lulled him into a sense of comfort around you – he was willing to admit he was concerned, in his own way. “There’s a storm rollin’ in. You trying to freeze to death?”

“Trying to hunt a white wolf,” you replied, glancing back at the bait you’d just set and adjusting the bow you held in your hands, an arrow already grasped between two fingers. 

Fuckin’ hell, Arthur thought. ‘Course that’s what you’re out here doing.

“You ain’t gonna be hunting much of anything when you turn into an icicle,” he replied, hopeful that you would understand his taunting was coming from a place of concern – not control. “You got Scratch nearby?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you smiled, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on your back and whistling to call your horse back to you. You mounted up on the animal easily, Arthur taking the moment to appreciate how languid your movements were – how graceful. His eyes lingered at your waist for a moment longer than was decent.

“If I remember right there’s a cabin just up the road. Been empty the last few times I rode by,” he explained, his words offering more than just a place to shield from the freeze. 

Arthur wanted to spend time with you. You’d truly have to be a lunatic to think otherwise.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The snow picked up as the two of you rode side-by-side, both of your horses slowing as the powder piled up, creating heavier footsteps. While Arthur spoke to his horse beside you to soothe her through the storm, you could feel his eyes consistently on you despite the painful whip of flakes against his unshielded cheeks.

What could have been a short ride in the summer extended in the weather, and by the time the cabin approached view you had begun to shiver – something Arthur took note of. When he climbed from his horse he unrolled the blanket on the back of his saddle, passing it up to you before grabbing his shotgun. 

“I’ll check inside, you try not to shiver s’much you fall off your horse.”

He disappeared into the cabin, your mind focusing on the sounds of him moving about rather the piling snow that was sure to trap you for days. Keeping yourself wrapped in his blanket provided the additional comfort of his lingering scent, and you found yourself clutching the fabric tighter and tighter as the moments passed.

“This’ll be fine ‘til the storm’s passed,” he announced as he exited through the doors, voice raised so you could hear him over the wind. “You go on in while I get some firewood and hitch the horses.”

“I can help, you know,” you offered, eyebrows pulling together to communicate your frustration. 

“Would you stop your arguing for once and go inside out of this shit?”

By the time Arthur made his way in from the storm you’d used what wood remained in the cabin to start a fire, the flames warming the air around it quickly. The mattress was considerably dirty and out of the question, so you were validated in the decision to carry in your bedrolls and blankets, having set them up comfortably in front of the fire. 

His heavy boots sounded on the floor as he approached where you sat on the floor from behind, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on you. 

“Already got a fire going?”

“Uh huh,” you replied, noting the subtle shake to his voice. Arthur was strong, but he was human, and he was cold. The fact that he not only was willing to but insisted on suffering for you caused a knot to form in your stomach. “Got some whisky if you need help warming up.”

He simply grunted affirmatively in reply, setting the stack of wood carefully to the side and picking out the driest pieces to tend the fire with now. You tempted to hand the bottle out to him, the liquid going ignored as he began to peel off layer by layer, tossing the soaked clothing to the side lazily with little regard for how they ended up. Normally you’d have stood to hang the clothes, but you found yourself spellbound by the way Arthur’s muscles flexed with each movement under the simple wet damp button up shirt – the last remaining layer.

When he was somewhat comfortable, he turned to face you, eyes flashing with amusement as he took the bottle from your fingers. You were certain your mouth was hanging open and he’d caught you. At the moment, you could hardly bring yourself to care.

Hours passed as the two of you got warm and caught up over the last few weeks. You sat opposite one another, both wrapped in your own blankets and full of enough whisky to ignore the storm outside – to ignore everything but one another. Arthur hadn’t missed that most of your clothes lie neatly folded atop the countertop. The thought was repeating in his mind – the heavy question of what exactly remained under the blanket haunting him. 

He couldn’t be blamed for not being a good listener. 

“Arthur, are you even listenin’ to me?”

“Not a fuckin’ word,” he replied with one more small swig of whisky from the bottle, setting it well out of the way to the side. “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that if you want me to listen.”

“Doing what?”

You knew damn well what.

“Lookin’ at me like you want me to come crawl on top of you.”

Why on Earth would you ever stop doing that? 

“No.”

Your mouth was going to drive him to insanity one day. He wasn’t going to do a single thing about it.

“Did you just tell me ‘No’?” 

“Yeah, Arthur, I surely did,” you replied, quick and agile as you were on your feet. He was beginning to think you may only talk to hm this way, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to reach out to you. “Hoping you take the hint.”

The blanket he’d been using for himself was discarded to the side, your words finally snapping the thin thread of control that remained in him. He extended one arm outward toward the floor to support himself, outstretching his legs to be situated in a more comfortable position before his eyes found yours again. 

“Come on over here,” his invitation came thick as molasses and dripping just as sweet, his free hand patting his right thigh to give his words deeper meaning. “Bring the blanket.”

Arthur had finally figured out how to get you to stop arguing and basked in the glory of the moment as you crawled to him carefully, finding a comfortable seat in his lap as you straddled his thighs. He savored the view as you wrapped your arms around his neck, encompassing you both with the blanket, your face illuminated by the golden glow of the well-tended fire – beautiful, warm, inviting. 

He was more than happy to finally accept. 

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

He knew you were trying to sound resolute as you always did – firm and demanding and impossible to deny. While those things lingered – he doubted they could ever truly be gone from you – what really laced your words was the quietest of whines. He sat up fully, bringing his torso closer to yours and grasping your hips in both hands, all the while your heart beating faster and faster in anticipation.

When you opened your mouth to let your protest be known again, he took his opportunity to claim your lips in a long-awaited kiss, the feeling of his lips caressing yours sucking the air from your chest immediately. He opted to slide his hands to your lower back to bring you in closer, pressing your chests together as he kissed you hungrily. Touch starved and overwhelmed by the feeling of you returning his kiss with soft lips he sought more of your skin, sliding his hands up the back of the loose blouse you remained in. 

“Clothes are still wet,” he grumbled against your lips, displeased by the cool touch to your skin that remained. You scrambled to reinitiate the kiss, your lips catching his bottom lip as a whine slipped through your lips. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. 

“Take them off, then,” you breathed out, bowing your head to press a delicate kiss to his neck. His own breath caught, arms wrapping tighter around you – almost too tight, almost too crushing. You made no move to stop him as you began to test the best places to leave your kisses, spurring him to release his hold on you to start peeling the last layers from both of you. 

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear when all that remained were intimate coverings, a shaky groan rolling through his chest. His hands engulfed you, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, dipping his head to claim your lips again. 

That kiss was hungry – starved – clumsy in ways that screamed of desperation. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples lightly, a smile evident on his lips despite the fact he continued to kiss you as a moan slipped from your throat. It spiraled from there, both of your hands exploring, your fingers the best thing he’d felt against his skin in a long time. As the pressure built heavier at your waist his hands trailed lower, one stopping to grasp your waist, the other slipping into the waistband of your underwear. 

He'd never heard music that sounded as good as the sound of the moan that left you as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds, an appreciative hum shaking in his throat as you burrowed your face in his neck. 

“You’re already soaked for me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice getting lower and lower with each word. He began to sink his index finger into you, grasping your hip tighter in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tight, too. Hell.”

“Arthur…”

“Aw, hush,” he cooed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple as he curled his finger inside you, pulling a quiet whimper from you. “No point tryin’ to talk right now, darlin’ – just lemme take care of ya.”

He could take his sweet time, Arthur Morgan. He was a patient man, especially when it came to you, and never more-so than now as he began to work his finger in and out of your clenching heat. He added a second finger soon, pressing the heel of his hand to your clit to give you more pressure, which you gladly accepted by rocking your hips into it. 

As he pumped his fingers into you he began to trail kisses lower, the kisses growing heavier and wetter the further down he went. By the time he nipped at your hip with his teeth lightly you were breathless, eyes squeezed shut as you lost yourself to pleasure. He kissed across your waistline as he pulled your underwear down, smiling against your skin lightly when you kicked them free with frustrated fervor. 

Nothing up to this point compared to the feeling of Arthur sliding his tongue from his fingers to your clit, giving the sensitive bundle of nerves a soft suck. He repeated the motion as you struggled to even moan, your hands grasping at the blankets now on the floor beneath you as you tried to rock your hips into his face desperately.

“Easy, now,” Arthur reprimanded with quiet reverence behind his words, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh softly. “I’m takin’ my time with you, don’t rush me.”

You finally opened your eyes, ready to give him an earful about being a tease, only to be frozen once again faced with the sight of Arthur, golden illuminated by the fire and somehow still wearing his hat tipped back on his head. You maintained eye contact with him as you reached forward with your hands, removing the hat with one hand and placing it on your own head as your fingers ran through his hair, giving a soft tug at the end. 

The growl vibrated through him and you as he connected his lips to your clit, pumping his fingers into you and connecting the tips, curling them skillfully to rub against the sensitive patch deep within you as he sucked your clit. All the while he maintained eye contact, even when he removed his mouth from you with one final flick of his tongue, just as he removed his fingers from you. 

“Arthur…” you whimpered in protest, tugging his hair again to try to bring him back to your needy core.

“Hush,” he instructed tenderly, slipping his hands under your ass and grasping firmly to lift your waist from the floor. He soaked in the view of your glistening folds at this angle and tested how it looked to watch one of his fingers slip into you before removing it, licking his lips again. “You are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your reply was sucked from your chest and altered into a cry of pleasure as he spit on your folds, smearing the liquid around before connecting his thumb to your clit, rubbing a figure eight. Supporting your raised hips still with one hand he continued to rub your clit, now using his tongue to fuck into you rather than his fingers, tasting you how he’d wanted to for nearly a year now.

The pressure continued to build and boil, eventually reaching a point of eruption – all the usual signs there with your shaking thighs, shorter and desperate breaths, your nails scratching against his temple as you gripped whatever you could. Arthur figured it was a previously unknown bonus to him keeping his hair a little on the longer side. He groaned to encourage you, switching his movements to pump his fingers into you again, circling your clit with his tongue until you became incendiary, your first orgasm washing through you with white hot heat.

He continued to lap at your folds as you came, removing his tongue from you occasionally only to kiss your thighs and mutter tender praises as you came back down to your body. When you had some sense about yourself, he was crawling back up you, pressing kisses to your stomach and breasts before he reached your lips, offering you a taste of your own honey sweet pleasure on his tongue.

When the adoration filled amorous kiss ended so Arthur could breathe you began to trail kisses down his neck again, following a trail to his chest before his index finger caught under your chin, lifting you back up to him, cerulean eyes questioning.

“Your turn,” you offered, slipping one of your hands into the waistband of his underwear and wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock slowly. Running your finger over the velvet head you smeared the pre-spend leaking already, biting at your swollen bottom lip when he moaned. 

“Not tonight, sweet thing,” he declined, his hesitation clear in his voice. You began to rub him gently – slowly – too damn slow – causing his eyes to roll back briefly. “You wrap these lips around me, and I won’t last long enough t’ fuck you.”

“Please.”

You didn’t truly know what you were begging for – for him to test himself and allow you to take his already throbbing cock into your mouth or for him to follow through on that promise to fuck you. Luckily, Arthur seemed to know exactly what your words were asking for – what you needed. 

He reached to remove your hand from his cock gently, freeing himself of his underwear before he gently moved you to your side, lying beside you with his back to the fire to shield you from getting too much heat, to ensure you didn’t get hurt. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other slid to cup your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer to him as he kissed you again. 

As much fun as he’d been having teasing, he was done with the games now, and could no longer find the patience. He reached to lift your leg around his waist before grasping his cock, rubbing against your still-soaked entrance for a moment to gather some lubrication before he sank into you. Inch by inch disappeared into your velvet channel, the kiss practically halting as you gasped. He leaned his forehead against yours instead, grasping your waist gently as he continued to slip into you.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathed out. The large hand that still cupped your cheek slipped downward to rest against your neck instead, his fingertips digging into your skin in attempt to steady himself, to savor your pulse beneath his touch. “Takin’ me so good. You doin’ okay?”

You nodded as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open already at the feeling of him stretching you, almost too full but not something you’d be willing to give up anytime soon. When he’d fully seated himself within you, his cock buried to the hilt he released a shaky groan of his own, his eyes briefly closing as he savored the feeling of being wrapped up in you.

“Goddamn you’re tight,” he groaned out, pressing several light kisses to your lips before grinding his hips into yours slightly. “Shoulda crawled ‘tween your legs months ago.”

“Would…ah…woulda let you,” you managed to reply, pressing your lips to his in an unabashedly salacious kiss, already perfecting how to slot your lips against his in a way that left him craving more. He couldn’t hold back his movements any longer and began to pump into you repeatedly, setting a wanton and quick pace that somehow managed to remain tender and reverent.

He could only be tender for so long, desperation and months of waiting and yearning building in him. His movements began to get sloppy sooner than he’d have liked, though he felt better when your walls began to flutter and clench around him, your thigh shaking around his hip slightly. He picked up his pace to a much more relentless one, driving his cock into you and into your spongy cervix repeatedly as his grunts became more frequent, pressing kisses to your neck now.

“Want you to finish while I’m inside you,” he instructed, though there was something so subtly desperate behind his words – a quiet beg that only someone who knew him would recognize. “Think you can do that for me, darlin’?”

You nodded before leaning your head back again, quiet cries leaving your lips as he connected his thumb to your clit again, immediately choosing a relentless pace to rub in circles. You were almost certain you’d do anything he asked and soon enough you were pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching him so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remove himself. He did his best to continue pumping into you roughly now as he sought his own release, certain you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Like you’d need to, anyway. 

“F-fill me up, Arthur,” you begged unexpectedly through your euphoria, and he didn’t need anything else to convince him. With only a few more bruising thrusts he stilled inside you as he emptied his seed in hot ropes into you, groaning loudly as he lazily leaned his forehead to yours again, his own eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t remove himself from you when you’d both ridden your orgasms, instead holding you close and reaching to cover the two of you in one of the blankets that was on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly to hold you closer to him, slipping one of his legs between yours for additional comfort and warmth. Still semi-hard with plenty of stamina to offer you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him seated in you still, buried as deep as possible as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Be a whole lot warmer this way,” he offered, giving a subtle move of his hips to emphasize the meaning behind his words. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching upward to kiss your forehead, leaving his lips resting there. He was right – you did finally feel warm.

“Mm,” was all you could reply, laying your head against his shoulders and closing your eyes, burrowing your face into his neck. He smiled as you managed to press lazy kisses into his neck before wrapping your arms around him as well. 

“Think I’ll keep you here all winter,” he offered after several blissful moments, his head leaning to rest on the top of yours as his own eyes closed. He pressed one final kiss to your temple before succumbing to the comfort of you fully.

“Always knew you were a big teddy bear, Arthur,” you teased. How you managed to run your mouth still after he’d fucked you right was beyond him – but it was also probably a reason he’d want to keep fucking you.

“We’ll call it hibernation, then.”

masterlist. red dead redemption masterlist.

[shikiii-skadi]

Hey can do yandere levi ackerman and hang Zoe and Erwin please

INCLUDES: levi ackermann, erwin smith, hanji zoe WARNINGS: Yandere content, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, abuse, possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, clinginess, delusion, paranoia, overprotectiveness, mentions of kidnapping, death, manipulation, gas-lighting, murder, suicide, cannibalism, mutilation NAVIGATION: Attack on Titan Masterlist | part 1 (eren, mikasa, christa, armin)

Levi Ackermann:

Typ of Yandere:

Overprotective: More than anything, he wants you to survive. More than anyone, he knows how brutal the world is out there. Man-eating titans or people who are as disgusting as animals, he has seen it all. And Levi also knows how weak you are in comparison. You could never get through this, not without him protecting you. That is why he has made it his mission to prevent you from being on the list of the dead as well. And he will do it as long as he is able to.

Rude: The biggest tsundere-yandere out there. He still calls you an idiot and is not above criticizing you harshly for doing something stupid in his eyes. Honestly, sometimes you really wonder if it's true when he says he loves you. But given the fact that he is a yandere, that is a question you ask yourself only briefly lol.

Dependence: Honestly, this man is just miserable. he lost everything so many times that he stopped counting. Is it an excuse for the way he treats you? No. But you can understand why. He clings to the little bit of luck he still has in his life. You are like the air he needs to breathe. Without you, he'd be like a fish trapped on dry land.

How and when started the obsession:

It takes a long time for Levi to let you get close to him, but once that hurdle is crossed, it doesn't take long for him to snap given the world you both live in.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

To a certain degree, yes. But he would consider it natural that he wants to protect you with every fiber of his being.

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: Levi is definitely capable of killing someone without much difficulty. And when it comes to your safety and well-being, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. However, Levi would not kill any potential rivals.

Hurting you: No, Levi would never hurt you physically. However, his blunt words are another story.

Blackmail: If something were to arise, then yes, but Levi wouldn't go out of his way to dig things up. But he would definitely use his position to make sure you are in his squad or don't participate in certain missions.

Kidnapping: It wouldn't be his first choice to kidnap you, because generally, Levi wants you to be happy and do the things you like (as long as you don't put yourself in danger that is). But if you two reach a point where Levi feels that you simply can't learn from your mistakes and continue to act recklessly over and over again, then he will see no other option than to physically restrain you. So that you are no longer a danger to yourself.

Final stage: Honestly the person who is responsible for your death, should just kill themselves before Levi has the chance to get them himself. He will not let them get away. It could take years and Levi would still be as adamant to make the person, who killed you suffer. He would never forget and in the end, he would get to them, no matter where they might try to flee to. The world is too small to hide from Levi Ackermann.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

As mentioned earlier, Levi is just miserable. He is so out of touch with his feelings that he would probably never confess his feelings to you on his own and you would have to make the first move. Which is why a scenario of rejection is unlikely. If you were to correctly interpret his behavior and tell him that you don't love him, it would hurt him a lot inside, but he wouldn't do anything to you. He wouldn't kidnap you or pressure you into a relationship. Levi doesn't have a high opinion of himself in that regard and probably doesn't think he's worthy of your companionship anyway. He would still stay by your side and protect you, but he doesn't expect anything in return. Knowing that you're safe is good enough for him.

Levi is probably one of the better Yanderes to have. Apart from his overprotectiveness he is pretty reasonable and will actually listen to you if you have complaints.

Erwin Smith:

Typ of Yandere:

Manipulative: This man has a way with words. He could bring someone to jump willingly off a cliff if he wanted to. The key word here is "if he wanted to". I have a hard time imagining that he would ever manipulate you. He is too controlled and aware of himself for that.

Stalker: Because of his position as the Commander of the Survey Corps, he doesn't have a lot of time to stalk you. But it is his favorite free time activity. Just watching you do your daily tasks fills him with more joy than you could ever imagine.

Disappearance: Every day anew he sends soldiers to their death. He is convinced that he does not deserve you and that you will be better off with someone else. Which is why he will eventually leave you. It is even more likely that he has never approached at all.

How and when started the obsession:

Erwin feels lonely deep down. And sometimes he finds himself wishing he had someone by his side. But because of his opinion of himself, he never brought himself to change your relationship as comrades into something deeper. It was only a matter of time before all these suppressed emotions grew into something unhealthy.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

Yes and no. He was already conflicted enough with his normal feelings, so he didn't notice the change in the beginning.

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: No, never. It would never even cross his mind.

Hurting you: He would never do that either.

Blackmail: Even if he doesn't like to admit it, there have been situations where he has taken advantage of his position and made sure that this one person, who obviously was interested in you, suddenly stays miles away from you.

Kidnapping: If he wanted, he would be able to make you disappear without anyone finding even a trace of you ever again. But before it would ever come to that, he would have already distanced himself from you.

Final stage: Not even a single hair on your head would be harmed during the whole time of his obsession. Even in the end, he would never think of killing you. Maybe he thought about ending his own life in desperate hours, but he never went through with it. After all, he still had a dream.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

Honestly, you probably never really noticed his intense feelings. The worst thing that can happen to you with him is that someone from your circle of acquaintances suddenly turns away from you for reasons unknown to you.

Hanji Zoe:

Typ of Yandere:

Manipulative: Hanji is a master of gaslighting and other manipulative tactics, due to their high intelligence. As soon as you have the slightest idea about their real intentions, they immediately make you doubt yourself. They twist stories, deny things, and immediately accuse you of those actions yourself. Hanji can predict your every move. They are always one step ahead of you. Not in a million years could you ever outsmart them. It's a game for them, honestly.

Bizarre-Seeking: Of course, someone like Hanji, who is already considered strange by many for her nature anyway, must have strange preferences. When it comes to things like strands of hair, you might be able to overlook it, but she definitely collects gross things too, like your fingernails or blood. Hanji has a whole shrine filled with your things. It is their most precious possession, next to you, of course.

Restraints: The amount of time you spend with Hanji is never enough for them. It was only a matter of time before Hanji decided that the best thing for you would be to never leave their side again. Preferably, they tie you directly to them, but if that's not possible, then a chair or the like is fine for a short time.

How and when started the obsession:

I mean, Hanji has always been a little…. strange. You probably never know them any other way. But their obsession with you started when you listened to them talk for hours about Titan experiments.

Do they know that their feelings are unhealthy/not normal?

No, they don't. Hanji thinks it's completely normal to feel this way about their significant other. They don't even think it's weird that they collect your fingernails and such. If you judge them for it, then they rather think that you are the weird one. After all, why should Hanji waste such precious things or not pay any attention to them at all?

How far are they willing to go?

Murder: Hanji would definitely kill people who stand in their way. And God have mercy on anyone they chose to kill. Hanji shows no mercy and no one will ever see the mutilated remains of their victims again. Unless they choose for their own amusement to send the victim's relatives the head.

Hurting you: Should you repeatedly try to leave their side, then Hanji is not above breaking your ankles, or legs, should she see it as more fitting. Just because you've won their love and affection doesn't mean you're saved from their more violent traits. In fact, it is quite the opposite - it just makes you more interesting. There are times when Hanji tortures you or acts out their strange tendencies and cuts off your fingers to add them to their shrine. If you cry the whole time and mess up your beautiful eyes with tears, then it's better if Hanji cuts them out for you to preserve their beauty, right?

Blackmail: In case of minor incidents or at the beginning of your relationship, Hanji usually manipulated you, not infrequently with blackmail. In the later stage, however, they rather choose physical violence. So they usually only blackmail you for fun.

Kidnapping: Hanji will definitely kidnap you and bind you to them forever. There is no other outcome.

Final stage: Hanji can accidentally kill you if she tries to cut anything off of you to be able to keep it. But if you keep rejecting them or even start hating them, they will see no other way than to kill you. Now she can shape you the way she wants. Your body will remain with her forever, as the most beautiful part of her shrine. Should you die due to natural causes, then she will eat your dead body so that you can finally be one again.

What is it overall like to have them as a Yandere?

Hanji is definitely the worst and most dangerous yandere of them all. Every one of your friends and family members runs the risk of being brutally murdered by them. And even you are not spared. The possibility that you die as her darling is incredibly high. And should you not be dead, then you are highly mutilated and disfigured. With them you always walk on eggshells, afraid of what they might do. In addition, you never have a free minute from them, because they always have you near them, if not directly tied to them.

[yannaryartside]

CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.

AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW

PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES

So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.

In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:

"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."

When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 

Some examples of lies people belive:

"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."

When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 

In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 

Long post underneath.

THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:

We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."

I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.

But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:

THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC

Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.

It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.

In the scene, Carmy asked,

"What is so hard, Mom?"

I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?

When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.

Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.

This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.

Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.

THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES

According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.

The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:

I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.

This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).

PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH SYDNEY?

Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.

When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."

When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.

Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"

And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.

But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.

In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.

All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.

Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.

[gilbirda]

Personal coach Red Hood

Idea by @impyssadobsessions where Jazz needs a personal trainer from a gotham hero and chooses red hood. Eventual ship content. This is more of a setting so far but i have ideas. I accept ideas too, im just balling

I'm going to try a more chill and lax posting with this bad boy. I feel like my rigid way of organizing is making me feel restricted so this will be 1000% vibes and let's see where it goes.

Part 2

---

Jazz knew this was a stupid idea. Dangerous. Suicidal, maybe, depending on who would answer her call. But she still had to try.

You may be wondering how a twenty something young woman ends up following Gotham heroes around with a notepad. She wasn’t looking for an autograph, or for the latest scoop on the heroes, trying to uncover their secrets.

She was actually writing down their patterns and observations in behavior, trying to map their patrol routes and create a decent enough file and expectations of the heroes.

What did she need the information for?

She needed a personal trainer.

No, not the kind you hire at the gym. She already tried that and it didn’t work. She also tried MMA, and kickboxing and just to see if she could do it, Judo. All were interesting and gave her a pretty good picture of what her body was capable of, and a guesstimate of her physical limitations.

But no. She needed something else, something more… tailored for what she actually needed the training for.

She needed to intern with a hero. The term “sidekick” felt wrong for what she had in mind, since she didn’t want to be that hero’s trainee forever. Or was interested in the current superhero scene at all. They were doing just fine without her.

She just… she felt left out. Danny was amazing but he didn’t need her, not as much as she would have liked. He was a hero, and a pretty good one, but he wasn’t in any place to train her. Not that he wanted to, since he usually avoided her every time she brought it up.

Her baby brother was all grown up and he didn’t need his older sister anymore. 

Jazz shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Danny would always need her — she just needed to do her homework and keep up with him on her own. If she just trained enough and could hold her own in ghost fights, she was sure Danny would be grateful and appreciate her support. Who knows, maybe he would be happy that he didn’t need to be wary of ghosts day and night, and actually rest and focus on his neglected studies.

She yawned, lamenting another night that looked to be a bust. Maybe the heroes were busy tonight? Maybe they were on a big mission away? Unlikely that all of them were away, there were usually at least a few of the Bats flying around the city.

Why Gotham, you may ask? Of all the funny-dressed crime fighters on Earth, why these people? 

Easy.

They were human.

That piqued Jazz’s interest. She had been between the Arrows and the Bats, but finally chose the Bats because Gotham had one perk over Star City: unlimited supply of ectoplasm. The place was almost as coated in the thing as Amity, which she was grateful for. It saved her from going back and forth to places rich with ghost activity and fishing blobs to eat.

Don’t ask too many questions about the consuming blob ghosts part. It was a necessary evil.

However, it’s been a few months and all she got to show for her efforts was a notepad filled with scribbles she painstakingly copied to her computer and a lot of frustration.

Until one night she caught Red Hood alone as he checked his phone. She waited until he was done texting — she had manners thank you very much — and jumped in front of him before he had the chance to grapple away.

“Hi— oof.” 

Thanks the ancients for her reflexes and Judo training, she blocked Hood's punch and following kick. It would probably bruise but it wasn't the end of the world.

“What the fuck?” 

“Hi,” she tried again, “I'm Jazz.”

He didn't punch her again, which she took as a good sign. Instead, he took a step back and squared up like he was expecting a fight.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he scoffed but let her continue speaking, “I’m looking for… I guess you’d call it a mentor? That sounds weird… A personal trainer? No, that’s wrong too. Hm, I wonder if there’s a word for ‘person who is the only one that can teach you very specific information in a field of interest that legally, or otherwise—’.”

Red Hood cleared his throat, making her jump.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah? I am real.”

Hood looked at her in silence for a few moments. Then, he sighed and rubbed one gloved hand against his helmet. 

“Listen, girl.”

“Jazz!”

“Jazz,” somehow she got the impression he grumbled, but the voice modulator did its job really well, “I have things to do, ok? Crimes to stop and stuff. So… yeah. Goodnight.”

He turned around and picked the grapple gun from inside his jacket.

“Wait!” 

He jumped and misfired the gun, hitting the wall of the building instead of the roof, like he was supposed to. As the gun recalled the rope, he looked over his shoulder at her. Jazz understood he was glaring at her, she could feel the daggers on her skin.

“Hear me out, ok?” He didn’t move or said anything. “I need— I have tried hiring a trainer, at… back at the gym. You know? But that wasn’t enough. I think I need to train with an actual hero—”

“Listen,” the word was accompanied by the hook of the grapple clicking into place, “whatever it is you are looking for, you definitely are not going to find it with me. So. Scramble.” 

He made a shooing gesture with one hand and aimed the gun without looking, shooting it and amazingly enough, hitting the edge of the rooftop. He made a salute as he was launched to the air at high speed.

Jazz didn’t follow, mesmerized by the skill. Hood landed with a flip and without breaking momentum, started running to the next rooftop, jumping impossible lengths. The way he moved was confident, powerful and measured.

She wanted to do that. She needed Red Hood to train her.

---

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[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: your worst night followed by a wonderful day, are you slowly going crazy? Maybe, but you'll get out of here no matter what

─Warnings: blood, self-harm, anxiety attack, hallucinations, obsession, toxic behaviors, stalking, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

YOU TRY to control your shaky breathing, no one would take away the poor quality of sleep you had at this point in your life, but having nightmares right now was the last straw that broke your patience.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your face was slightly wet because you needed to splash yourself to clear your thoughs, the cold water didn't help much anyway, you slapped your cheeks with moderate force hoping the feeling of mental numbness would go away, but again it didn't work.

"What the hell is wrong with me…?"

You touched your right cheek, slightly red from the previous blow, focusing your gaze on the reflection of the sink mirror, you were a complete disgust, never, not even in your worst period of exams, had you seen yourself so emaciated, the dark circles and bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your face, your frizzy hair, its lack or decrease, bloodshot eyes… you could continue to despise yourself while you stare at your reflection for hours, bringing out each of your flaws.

But there was one that bothered you beyond your appearance, your lack of emotions, your lack of thoughts, you refused to show anything other than a blank expression to those people who ruined your life, you refused to have to think complex things while they took care of everything, not being able to do anything on your own you began to stop complicating your life by thinking about solutions.

Who were you? What were your goals? Your tastes? When did your memories start to become blurry? When was the last time you really smiled? Were you real? Or just a corporeal desire of psychopaths eager to have something precious to protect? Since when was everything so gray, so monotonous? Did you still consider yourself a person with rights and freedom? When did you start accepting this?

"Hey… Hey!"

Focusing your lost vision again in the mirror, you weren't very surprised that you were hallucinating after having a brain as soft as baby food, it was you, maybe a couple of years younger who was speaking to you through the reflection, your mouth opened but no words came out as if you were a fish out of water.

"What's happening? Is this the future that awaits me? You're pathetic! Look at you… Where the hell is your stupid smile? You used to smile a lot before, why…? Why have I become a puppet?"

Your words mixed with a murmur, feeling how your heart squeezed painfully in your ribcage, your mind deciding to continue the macabre game of your existential crisis, replaying memories with your family and all the warm moments that kept you sane until now. You closed your eyes hoping that the hallucinations would disappear, but you only managed that instead of visuals they were audible, reproducing words of affection from your parents in a loop like torture, the breathing exercises you did before to calm yourself stopped working now, you bit your lip so hard that you ripped off some skin, not enough for you because you started running your nails down your arms, leaving red marks from the friction and force.

"You're better than this, what's all this whining about?! Get up and stop being a coward! You will only drag me into this meaningless future!"

"Shut up…"

"Are you even worth anything? You're so boring, I don't understand how those sorcerers want to protect you."

"Shut up."

"Are you going to cry to sleep like always? You are a disgrace, you are lucky, lucky that someone can love you so much, what would you do without them? They are much better than your own parents, accept it, accept it, they love you unconditionally! Even without knowing who you are or how you feel, even without knowing what your purposes are, they will love you! Accept your desti-"

"I said shut the fuck up! Silence!"

You shook your whole body, holding your head, you hit it a couple of times against the wall, so hard that even a couple of tiles fell off, a few drops of blood fell from your head, but you didn't care, the voice, your voice, it was gone, you swallowed your own poison, locking your inner, dark thoughts deep in your brain.

Your mind continued numb for a couple more minutes where all you could hear was a faint sound of static and a constant beeping, but it was more calming than having to listen to your own voice in that twisted way. Getting up once you calmed down a little, your reflection returned to normal, you splashed your face with cold water again, cleaning the blood on your head, nails and lip, taking one last look at your pitiful person, with your head still full of unknowns.

"Why is this happening to me?"

You rub your eyes tiredly, cleaning up the mess you had made, you decide to lie down on the cold bed once more, tucking yourself in and looking at the ceiling waiting for your body to magically disintegrate into ashes, too pretty to be real, when you realize the rays of light make your eyes hurt and sting, one more sleepless night, a new day awaits.

Faking and ignoring your nighttime crisis you get up to do your morning routine, being greeted by an overly cheerful Nobara as you passes through the dining room to look for some breakfast, you couldn't say the same for Megumi, who looked much more tense than normal, you didn't know where the others were but you didn't care much either, and Nobara and Megumi didn't say anything about your appearance, whether they noticed it or not, you're just glad they decided not to ask anything.

"You look like you've experienced the worst existential crisis of your life."

You spit out what you were drinking when you heard Maki just enter, from her appearance you could tell that she had gone out for a run early in the morning, Toge and Panda followed behind her, everything fell into a silence that was too uncomfortable for you because they stared at you carefully, completely ruining your efforts to hide your bad appearance.

"Just a bad dream…?"

You mumbled, avoiding everyone's gaze, Toge approached you, patting you on the head as if that would help you, although it was the most comforting thing you felt this week, it didn't feel as forced as other interactions.

To your relief, everyone continued with their things, while you ignored what they were talking about and continued eating breakfast, their talk became louder than usual, you frowned at this, deciding to listen lightly to the conversation, you froze when you remembered what they were talking about, the Kyoto school exchange, even though you didn't sign up for that stupid ceremony, as a student you had to, at the very least, be present, but you knew that a large concentration of sorcerers would only cause you more problems than solutions.

You knew why Megumi seemed so tense when the other students showed up, they didn't seem to have a very friendly relationship, they all seemed quite focused on the rivalry between high schools, which made you happy since the focus of attention wasn't on you, but rather in Itadori since he seemed to be targeted by the Kyoto school just for being Sukuna's vessel. The bad thing was that you had to stay in the teachers' room, with Gojo and a couple of other guys, the good thing was that you fell in love, Utahime was your spirit animal, definitely someone to admire just for her hatred of Gojo.

"So, why don't you want to compete? I can tell that you have quite a bit of accumulated cursed energy."

"Aww, meeting my favorite student? Well that's a delicate topic she doesn't-"

"I'm not talking to you, shut up."

You smiled internally when you saw Gojo's kicked dog expression, who didn't even let you talk to Utahime, she looked at you again, completely ignoring the albino's presence, it was, the first time since you arrived here that you felt like you were having a normal conversation with someone outside your life, someone disinterested in your protection, it was the most real interaction you had since then and it had to be ruined, not by Gojo, not by any student… curses, a planned attack, a lot of chaos was caused that you barely understood.

"Don't fight and don't try anything weird, although I'll know anyway, stay safe!"

It was the last thing Gojo said to you before leaving with the others to see what was happening outside, you couldn't have cared less about his words, and although locking you in your room was the main idea, your wires got crossed with your little sanity, if everyone was distracted by a greater evil you could use that to your advantage.

Since both sorcerers and curses were completely absorbed in their stupid fight, you used that to go outside, first it was a couple of meters, you didn't notice anyone, the capsule didn't stop you from leaving, so you walked further away, elated by your minimal achievement, you started running as fast as you could, reaching the busy streets of the city, smart enough not to go near the places Nanami frequented.

It had been a long time since your heart had been beating like this, so wild that you thought it might come out of your throat, you coughed for air once you stopped in a park, collapsing on the ground, you lied there, you laughed like a crazy person, some tears escaping of your eyes as you looked at the sky brighter than ever. You couldn't believe it, you were alone, with no one watching, you could feel all the positive emotions hitting you, there were so many sensations that you didn't know how to feel, but definitely much more relieved.

The smile on your face was indelible, you were happy, the world at this moment was painted in much more vibrant tones, the palette stopped being a constant tone of gray, you smiled at children, the elderly, you caressed animals, you bought a few flowers and then randomly give them to some people, completely in a bubble of happiness.

Although the bubble had to burst at some point, whether due to your subconscious or the pass of time, you knew that your sudden disappearance would only cause more of a stir, you wish you were left for dead, but you know those sons of bitches wouldn't have that in mind unless they saw your death with their own eyes or found your inert body.

Using your last moments of happiness, you decided to treat yourself to some of your favorite sweets, saying goodbye to the clerk who served you with one of your best smiles, you took the long way to the jujutsu high school, hoping to delay your reunion with your "loved ones" as long as possible.

"Stop there! Aren't you the missing girl? You've given us an incredible headache, come on, I'll take you back."

Someone you hadn't bothered to meet grabbed your wrist, pulling you without even waiting for you to react, analyzing her appearance, she was quite similar to Maki, maybe a family member.

"What a pity, sorry for the headache, but can you let me go? I know the way Maki number two."

At this moment the least you wanted was a confrontation, but your mood had not completely dropped, although now you were a little more upset than happy, your emotions overflowed, causing you to be a more sarcastic and sassy version of yourself.

Mai stopped instantly when she was called Maki number two, you had definitely found her weak spot, which turned into a passive-aggressive chat between the two of you, you would have been angry, but you couldn't be angry when you enjoyed the criticism you were giving each other, honestly it improved your day and you felt more human than before.

"Oh thank goodness you're fine! I thought those dirty curses had kidnapped you!"

Nobara didn't waste a second in hugging you as soon as she saw you, Itadori following her a second later, you assured them that you were okay not wanting everyone to crowd around you as the others also wanted to ask where you had been and why you disappeared when they were under stroke.

You drowned out the emotions you poured out during the day, swallowing everything, turning your expression blank as you felt Gojo's powerful gaze on you, everything calmed down for the next few minutes, the two schools finished the meeting and the Kyoto students left, before that you decided to exchange phones with Utahime.

Once you got rid of your companions, you locked in your room, unlike many other nights, you threw yourself on the bed, grabbing a cushion and screaming as if you were one of those teenagers in love in those saccharine series, you moved your legs in the air by pressing the cushion tighter between your arms. Changing your posture, you looked up at the ceiling just like the night before, with the big difference that now you couldn't contain your emotions, you giggled, biting your lip lightly, not noticing the wound you got earlier.

You saw it, you saw light at the end of the tunnel, ─not that way of course─, you saw how a door opened before your eyes, a new opportunity to free yourself from the chains that kept you captive with all these psychopaths, experience freedom after so much time made you delirious, made you imagine that you could get rid of them, that they would leave you alone, even if it was risky, your only option was to escape, run away from everything and everyone without thinking twice, without thinking about what can happen in the future, you would give everything to re-experience what you felt today when you ran away.

You sighed dreamily as you remembered the feeling of freedom, closing your eyes, not worrying about whether you were going to be able to fall asleep today or have another boring game of chess, oblivious to the blue eyes that watched from your window.

"It seems like someone is in her rebellious stage, maybe she need some restrictions…"

He muttered, unhappy with your disobedience but excited to see you happy, he didn't think he would see it so soon, your smile was beautiful just the way it was and you decided to hide it like that for them? They were only worried about you, why did you have to keep all that to yourself? They wanted to be part of your happiness, couldn't you understand it? Well, they will make you understand it no matter what.

Once he made sure that your breathing was stable, he entered your room, kissed your forehead like every night, only this time he sat next to you, caressing your head slowly, observing how, even while asleep, your silly smile was still painted on your face, the flash of his phone made you frown slightly, but you didn't wake up.

"I hope you rest well today, I'm sorry for not helping you the night before, but if I had come in you would hate me more, wouldn't you?"

He said to himself, closing the door slowly, giving you one last look before leaving, he sent the photo to the group chat he had with his students, reviewing the last photos where any of the four were able to capture something more emotion than indifference. Just like you, the small display of emotions only opened another door for them, that small display of freedom for you and emotions for them, was simply another trigger for your problems, after all, the more you move, the more you get tangled in the web.