#but i already now deep down that one day those horrid things will be at home
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Mission: to get an anniversary gift for dear mr nube
Way to accomplish mission: look for the most horrendous piece of decor out there
#ok he'll also have regular cute gift#but this man is known for his questionable decor taste#that actually sends me in fits of laughter everytime we walk by an antique shop#so i guess i'll have to vover my eyes and buy something really ugly aksjjakxjahgkañdnjq#he's been insisting on getting a duck pop corn maker#now that sounds cute but i promise you it's not#the duck popcorn maker is an ancient horrible thing that doesn't even make popcorn the right way#the duck has a blue hat tho i think that's whay appeals to him#unfortunately wasn't able to find it online but i found an equally questionable alternative#he has already promised to steal for himself a couple of disturbing chinese statues my aunt has at her place to set next to the couch#like in guarding position#and let me tell you those statues are the stuff of nightmares#but i already now deep down that one day those horrid things will be at home#*sighs*#i do love the silly man sm tho#OH BOY TAG RANT#personal nube
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Kinktober Day 1: Masturbation
Sukuna x Fem!Reader
(I know I'm late but yeah here it is, and also I've decided to make the Sanemi x Reader Kinktober Day 2 and no I'm not spoiling what it is)
WARNINGS: Contains sexual content (obviously) themes of Fem!Masturbation and being caught, fem receiving, voyeurism, Humiliation
*credit of artwork goes to woshihedawei*
Heavy whining pants filled the room as the bullet was gilded gently through your folds and vibrated strongly. The sensation of applied pressure as the vibrating bullet hit your puffy sensitive bundle of nerves that had your back arched the bed and your pussy dripping as you let out shallow gasps and quiet moans in pleasure.
Your eyes rolled back as your vision started to blur and your breathing became more erratic and desperate as your legs shook and you felt a butterfly flutter like pressure in your stomach as you bit down hard on your lip and came all over your sheets.
You looked down through half lidded eyes only to be met with red ones staring back at you causing you to jump back in a gasp. You covered yourself up and looked into those eyes…they were sadistic and a little malicious as the tattooed facial features of the face the eyes were attached to turned into a smirk.
"Well hello slutty human~" a seductive voice chuckled out as you widen your eyes at the man in front of you. You couldn't believe that the King of Curses caught you toying with yourself; you began to think of a way to fight him or get away from him and call for backup, hell even call out to Itadori, but you were stopped when you buzzing vibrator was yanked from your fingers and you watched as Sukuna placed his tongue on it and licked up the sticky juices that originated from your orgasm.
Confusion and embarrassment flooded your face, causing the curse to chuckle and yank you by your ankles as you let out a small squeak while trying to turn away and fight him before he pinned your arms down with one arm and used the other two to throw your legs over his shoulders as he folded them against your chest. "You taste sweet on that little pleasure object but, I wanna taste it from the source ... .not to mention I can make you feel so much better~" he said as he bit harshly into your inner thigh and drew blood. "Now be a good girl for me and don't fight to much, it'll only be harder on yourself~"
You whined as you felt the sensation of Sukuna lapping away at your sensitive pussy, you moaned loudly as his tongue delved deep into your velvety walls and flicked in an upwards motion as it bumped against your g-spot and then eventually hitting your cervix. You let out a mix between a scream and a moan at the sensation as Sukuna's tongue reached all the point in your cunt that made you weak and drip in pleasure, his mouth was flushed against your pretty pussy as he tongue fucked you and made out with your folds, his nose nudged your clit making a painful amount of pleasure hit you harder than the vibrator.
He groaned as he savored the taste of you, a mouth appeared on his free hand as it moved towards your chest and began to suck on your nipples, you arched your back at an impossible angle as you felt yourself coming close to falling apart already, You looked at Sukuna with lidded eyes as he didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon as you edged closer and closer you were so close, about to accept the wave of intense pleasure that would overtake you but it never came.
The fucking nerve- he interrupted your orgasm as he looked at you with a devilish smirk and cackled at your pouted out lip and your furrowed brows. "Aww c'mon doll, don't tell me you were actually enjoying it~?" Sukuna said sadistically as you only looked even more frustrated. "Fuck you- " you spat out to the King of Curse even if it was a horrid idea. He let out a low chuckle "that's not how we ask for things...use your words, slut~" you allowed his words to take full effect as you shuttered at the thought.
You stayed silent for a bit before opening your mouth "please..." you said in a desperate tone piquing up Sukuna's intrest again "hmmm, please what doll~?" he said coyly as he watched your facial expression turn into one of embarrassment mixed with vexation. "Please let me come.." you begged quietly enough for Sukuna to hear. "good enough brat, all you had to do was ask~" he said as he flipped you over on your stomach and parted your legs while shoving your head down into the mattress. You made a noise of shock and confusion before Sukuna he let out a cruel laugh... "You never said how brat, so your gonna do it on my cock...and you'll savor every last fucking drop of my come in your womb....Yeah?~"
work by @menacinggh0st
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Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Nine)
Summary: Her scent was sharp, even beneath the layers of clothes, grime, and the guts he’d already slathered her in. Floral and sweet and musky in a way that made the primal part of him let out a deep, satisfied growl. He’d wanted so badly to taste her in that moment. He’d dive between her legs and lick her to completion over and over again, make her come on his tongue until she was sobbing from pleasure. He’d eat her out like she was his last meal—he’d devour her perfect little pussy whole. Word Count: 4337 Warnings: still no smut but some suggestive thoughts/actions, descriptions past abuse, internalized victim blaming/misogyny Notes: I had to rewrite this chapter about a dozen times, so I hope y'all like it XD. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist
It was five days since they’d left the town, and Lelia was cold.
She was cold, and hungry, and tired, and miserable. She regretted ever leaving the town. She regretted ever leaving the cabin.
She did not regret leaving the military base.
Had she not left, she would still be tiptoeing around Andrew’s volatile temper, just waiting for him to lose it and wrap his hands around her throat again in a fit of rage. Before the dead had started walking, he’d liked to suffocate her with water. He’d catalog her every mistake throughout the day, and if she couldn’t appease him by nighttime, then the second they were alone, he’d drag her into their en-suite and force her to her knees by the bath. He’d sit on the edge of the tub, a hand in her hair as she kneeled beside it, and make her watch as it filled up to the rim. Then, he’d shove her head under, holding it there for however long he deemed she deserved as punishment. Sometimes it was only a few seconds, just enough to terrify her. Other times he held her under until she passed out. It didn’t matter. Lelia hated any pool of water larger than a puddle, now. Following that stream with Simon all those weeks again had been hell—she'd been on the edge of a panic attack the entire time.
It was so bad that Lelia couldn't even stand the sound of running water anymore. She knew she was disgusting for it, but she was secretly relieved they hadn’t found a working shower yet. That she’d had to make do with rags wet with water from her slim stash of bottles. She’d only wiped her whole body down once because of rationing, but she did the sweaty areas every few days. It was gross—but it was also such a relief. She didn't think she could take a shower even if they found one. And she didn't want to deal with the inevitable questioning grunts from Simon if she refused.
After the apocalypse had started, and Andrew had realized he didn’t need to hide his violence against her anymore, he'd started choking her the old fashioned way instead. Sometimes in front of people. It had been humiliating and painful, but less scary than the near-drownings. He no longer spent time building it up and striking the fear of God into her every time he punished her. He just snapped, grabbed her by the throat and squeezed as he shook her like a rag doll. His once cunning and calculating cruelty had devolved into unstable fits of rage as his new reality wore on him. She wondered if he got worse after she left and he could no longer take her rations or trade her body for half a bottle of whiskey. She wondered if he finally gave up and killed himself. She hoped he did.
Lelia tried not to complain to Simon about things of importance. Things she knew he wished he could fix for her but couldn’t. Groaning about her horrid, mismatching outfits or not being able to pluck her eyebrows was humorous to him—but whining about the cold or their dwindling supply of food just made him feel guilty. She didn't want him to feel guilty. He was the only reason she was alive.
He was the only person to ever make her truly happy.
She hadn't quite realized it at first, how much she enjoyed being around Simon. But in retrospect, it was obvious.
Even though he couldn’t respond, he always listened to her, no matter what she was talking about. Even if she was rambling about the history of fashion and the link between trends and current events. He would make appropriate noises at all the right times, consistently sounding interested even though he probably wasn't.
He brought her that feather, too, just because he thought it would make her smile, clearly having picked up on her love for animals. No one had given her such a thoughtful present since Ulyana had gifted her her poetry book, all those years ago. It was far more than just a feather, to her.
And Simon was so gentle with her. When they hugged, or held hands—both of which they had started to do more often, since that night in the study—he held her like glass, like he was afraid she would break if he squeezed too hard. With his strength, she probably would. And after a life in which physical contact was rare, and then frequent but always painful, his soft, affectionate touch was like a drug to her. Both healing and addictive.
It didn't matter to her that his hands were cold and he still smelled vaguely like death, regardless of how many times she cleaned him. She found herself wanting to be near him constantly. Waking up in the morning, excited to see him. Seeking his approval in everything she did. Trying to make him laugh, or the skin around his sunken eyes crinkle with a smile.
It was the apocalypse, and yet Lelia was happier than she had ever been in her life. And it was all because of Simon.
Except for right then, when he was being an absolute arse and trying to cover her with zombie guts. She knew they were behind schedule—worryingly so—but she would much rather backtrack a day's walk and try a new route than cover herself in putrid, rotten flesh and try to sneak through a herd of zombies like an idiot with a death wish.
“You can growl at me all you want; it’s not going to change my mind!” She whisper-yelled, gagging when she caught a whiff of the guts Simon had managed to smear on her before she could stop him. She was now holding him at bay with a very large stick she’d snatched up from the ground. She could see the amusement in his eyes, and she knew very well that her stick was not nearly as effective as she’d like to think. But it made her feel better to have, so she hung onto it. “I like this coat, Simon! It’s Moncler!”
Simon let out a sound that was a mix of a guffawing laugh, a huff of disbelief, and a groan of frustration. He took a lumbering step closer.
Lelia whacked him with the stick.
It was just a light whap on the arm—she knew he didn't feel pain, being dead and all, but she’d still feel guilty if she actually hit him—that wasn’t even hard enough to make a sound. Simon stopped to stare at her nonetheless, and despite not actually being able to see it, she just knew he was looking at her with an expression that said “Really?”
Lelia blushed, but held her ground, notching her chin and adopting her mother's most common look: demanding with an air of perpetual condescension. Like she was already assured that whoever she was glaring at would do whatever she wanted. Lelia could mimic it perfectly, even if she didn't actually feel that way. She hardly ever used it, finding it rude, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Simon just narrowed his eyes in response, though, rather than backing down like she’d hoped he would. It seemed his annoyance had won out, the amusement no longer anywhere to be found. Lightning fast, the stick was ripped from her hands and Simon was in her space, pinning her up against a tree. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, cushioning it so she didn’t get hurt.
Lelia squeaked in shock, eyes wide as she stared into his own. Simon stared back, and then deliberately smeared more zombie guts on the front of her designer puffer jacket.
“Simon!”
Lelia squirmed, trying to wiggle out of the way and spare her poor jacket further desecration, but Simon’s fingers tangled in her hair through the knit of her hat and held on tightly, his large form pressing closer to hers. He leaned in, burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply, before letting out a low growl and running his gore covered hand up her side.
Lelia’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. Her eyes went half-lidded and her limbs turned to jelly, Simon’s body the only thing holding her up. Nerves squirmed low in her belly, and she let out a sound between a whimper and a sigh. Was this a panic attack? Was she afraid? She didn’t feel afraid. But what else could it be? She was unable to move, trapped and helpless like when Andrew or the soldiers would force themselves on her. But instead of terrified or numb, she felt… good? It made no sense. But she found herself upset when Simon stepped away, despite having just been trying to fight him off. Her legs trembled and she barely managed to keep herself from falling to the ground. She blinked at Simon, dizzily watching as he returned to the corpse of the infected he’d killed earlier and began rooting around inside its chest cavity, no doubt for more guts to cover her in, before just deciding to bring the whole nasty thing over. Lelia couldn’t even care about that, though. She was too busy trying to figure out what in the world had just happened.
Simon’s amusement had given way to his frustration when his dove had made it clear she wasn’t going to budge on her stance towards his plan. He understood her reluctance—though the fact that she seemed more concerned about ruining her designer coat than the herd of zombies she’d be wandering into certainly added to his annoyance—but she didn’t seem to understand just how dangerous it would be for her if they were still traveling when the first snow of the season fell. She would freeze to death, he had no doubt about it. And he simply couldn’t let that happen.
So, unwilling to wait any longer, he’d cornered her against a tree and took matters into his own hands. He'd expected her to be annoyed, expected her to be angry, and though he hoped she wouldn’t be, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a little afraid. He was still a zombie, after all. There had to be some part of her that wondered if he’d snap, one day.
What he hadn’t expected was arousal.
But he could smell it, clear as day, with his face pressed into the crook of her neck. Her pulse was rabbit quick, her heart beating hard in her chest. Her scent was sharp, even beneath the layers of clothes, grime, and the guts he’d already slathered her in. Floral and sweet and musky in a way that made the primal part of him let out a deep, satisfied growl. He’d wanted so badly to taste her in that moment. He’d dive between her legs and lick her to completion over and over again, make her come on his tongue until she was sobbing from pleasure. He’d eat her out like she was his last meal—he’d devour her perfect little pussy whole.
Ghost ripped himself away from his dove, his hunger only growing when he saw the dazed expression on her face. He’d barely even touched her, and she was halfway to cockdumb already. He wanted to bury himself inside her as he consumed her hot flesh, wanted to watch her fall apart on his cock as he licked her blood from her soft skin—
He quickly lumbered over to the infected’s corpse. He needed to get away from the intoxicating smell of Lelia’s arousal. It had been too long since he’d fed, and his two very different hungers for her were getting mixed up, only making each other worse.
Digging around in its insides, Ghost tried to be rational. Her reaction had to have just been a coincidence, like a random, ill timed stiffy. It couldn't have been because of him—a dead, decayed monster. No one would ever find him appealing again—certainly not a sweet, pretty little dove like her.
And yet.
He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. That she had smelled so sweet because she’d been wet for him, aching to be filled by his cock and bred full of little monsters.
That she’d wanted him, old and dead and revolting as he was.
He was sick for wishing that were true.
Dragging the dead zombie over to her and hoping it would help cover up her smell, he focused on nothing but coating her in its guts. She didn’t protest again, seemingly stuck in her head.
It took several layers of gore to properly disguise her delicious scent, but he managed. He shoved his foul thoughts away and took her small, mittened hand in one of his. Grabbing the wagon handle with the other, he cautiously led her towards the large herd of zombies.
It took them nearly half an hour to get all the way through, and Lelia was shaking by the end, so fiercely she could barely stand. Once they were free of the herd, he led her to a tree stump so she could sit down and recover. He took the chance to put some distance between them—though he could no longer smell her beneath all the gore, she was still beautiful, and he was still ravenous. In every way.
“We smell horrid,” she finally said once she’d calmed down. “I can't eat like this. I'll be sick.”
Ghost grunted. They didn't actually have anything for her to eat—the last can of veg they’d been stretching was gone as of yesterday morning—but he knew that wasn’t really what she meant. And he could hear a river not too far from here… It was out of the way, but only slightly. They could light a fire, and he’d wash her coat and hat while she sat by it to keep her warm. Maybe he would even take the chance to do a full wash again himself, since the cold wouldn't bother him the way it would her.
But first, he needed to hunt.
He’d been trying to put it off until they got to the village, not wanting to leave her alone without four walls and a roof to keep her safe. But he would be a risk to her if he didn’t feed soon, so he led her to a tall pine tree, still thick with dense foliage, and helped her climb it. She was decently obscured, and if she stayed quiet, she would very likely go unnoticed by any survivors that stumbled upon her—though he’d not heard of smelled any nearby, thankfully. The infected were less of a worry—they wouldn’t be able to reach her with how high up she was, and still covered in gore, they likely wouldn't smell her anyway.
At least that’s what he told himself as he reluctantly left her, casting glances back over his shoulder at her tree with every few steps until it was out of sight.
Lelia was on edge the entire time Simon was gone.
It was less than an hour, but every time she heard so much as a branch twitch, she nearly jumped out of her skin. It got so bad that when the sound of leaves crunching underfoot reached her, she fell from her perch with a little scream of fear, sure she was about to die.
Strong arms caught her and held her close, a familiar, concerned groan greeting her. Lelia looked up to see Simon staring down at her, eyes crinkled with worry, face covered in blood. She blushed in embarrassment, heart beating hard in her chest from the adrenaline.
“Thank you,” she said sheepishly. “I, erm, I slipped.”
Simon cradled her more firmly against his chest, letting out a low, displeased grumble that she took to mean I saw or perhaps you need to be more careful. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, her blush darkened.
Simon set her down gently, unearthing the wagon of supplies from where he’d hidden it under a pile of dead leaves. Lelia watched him, and wondered just how strong he was. She knew she didn't weigh much, as starved as she was, but he'd held her like she was no heavier than a feather. It made her belly squirm with that odd, nervous sensation again, though she didn’t know why. She trusted Simon not to hurt her. She wasn’t afraid of him, not even a little bit. Not since she’d held him as she cried, and she'd realized just how much he trusted her.
“Can we clean ourselves now?” Lelia asked, doing her best not to whine. The smell clinging to her was so horrible that every time she caught a waft of it, she nearly vomited. She’d had to pinch her nose closed and breath through her mouth the whole time she was in the tree—holding onto the trunk with only one hand had certainly contributed to her falling.
Simon grunted in what sounded like agreement, but he didn't hand her a bottle of water from their rapidly diminishing stash—they had been stretching the bottles as much as they possibly could, but there were only two left—and instead began to walk. Lelia frowned but jogged to catch up with him, tugging on his arm.
“Simon, please, I know there's not much left but I can’t stand this,” she complained, feeling justified since he was the one who’d done this to her. She pinched her nose again, voice coming out high pitched and nasally. “I’m going to be sick.”
Simon huffed, but she saw his sunken eyes crinkle a little. Nonetheless, he just kept walking, and so Lelia continued to complain while pretending she was annoying him rather than amusing him.
It was because she was still ranting about him ruining her coat and her appetite that she didn't hear the rushing water until they were nearly upon the river.
The second she saw it—so much deeper than that awful stream she and Simon had followed all those weeks ago—she froze, paling rapidly.
Simon had continued walking, but he stopped when her arm—which she had looped through his shortly into their walk—went rigid, pulling him back. He looked down at her, and then groaned softly, dropping the wagon handle and stepping in front of her and blocking her view of the water.
That snapped her out of her mounting panic, though she was still breathing harshly as she looked up at her zombie with terrified eyes.
“I d-don't want to go in,” she whispered, on the edge of tears. “Please d-don't make me go in…”
Simon cupped her face with his big hands, clumsily rubbing his thumbs over her cheekbones, trying to soothe her. Lelia let out a shuddering sigh, leaning into his cold touch. It was strange that it always made her feel so warm.
A few seconds later, Simon let go in order to point at the river, then at her, and then shake his head so hard his jaw wobbled, teeth clacking against one another loudly. She reached up to steady it, absentmindedly wiping away his drool as she did. He wouldn't force her into the water. Of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t Andrew.
Simon cradled her face in his hands again for another moment, checking to make sure she was alright, before releasing her. They were still a few metres from the river, and he crouched down, joints popping, and began pulling out the stones, sticks, and matches they used to light a fire. Lelia joined him, helping to set up the little pit like he’d taught her to, and then taking off her mittens so she could expertly light one of their few remaining matches. She’d grown quite practiced over the last week.
As always, Simon praised her with a low, encouraging grunt, and Lelia’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. She liked making him proud. Just like she liked making him laugh. Sometimes she wondered if she saw him as a father figure—he was certainly old enough to be her father—but that didn't feel quite right, though she didn't know why.
Nonetheless, it was times like these that made her wish someone as kind and protective as Simon had been her father. He never would have bartered her off to Andrew for campaign money…
Once the fire was lit, Simon took her overcoat and her hat, plonking his helmet on her head instead. It immediately fell down over her eyes, far too big, and she giggled, tilting her head back so she could see again. Simon was looking down at her, eyes crinkled at the corners, dirty blonde hair shining in the dull winter sun, and in that moment, she saw just how radiant he was. Not how handsome he might have been when he was alive—no. How beautiful he was now, even with his grey skin, sunken eyes, and broken jaw. His missing lips and blackened gums. The mask and the blood covering his face. None of it mattered, she realized suddenly. To her, Simon was perfect, inside and out.
Lelia blushed as she watched Simon turn and head down to the river, heart feeling full as he carefully began to wash her clothes for her. He was so good. So patient and caring. It was a wonder she hadn’t noticed how attractive he was before. She had gotten used to his appearance quickly enough, no longer scared or off put by it by the time they’d reached the town. But she hadn’t found it appealing until now. Part of her wondered if there was something wrong with her for it—he was a zombie, after all—but a larger part of her found the thought ridiculous. There could never be anything wrong about appreciating Simon. He was her friend. Her protector. Her everything, truly. She had nothing else but him, in this world. Just as he had nothing else but her.
Simon returned to where sat by the fire, but only to lay her clothes near the flames to dry. He knocked on the helmet—which still sat on her head, because her ears were quite sensitive to the cold and so leaving them uncovered was simply not an option—and she squawked in protest, making him let out a raspy chuckle. Then, he began to work at the buckles of his tactical vest. His fingers had gotten much less stiff in the last few weeks, but they were still far from nimble, so he was struggling. Lelia swiftly got up, closing the distance between them and lightly swatting his wet hands away so she could take over. He let her with another huff of laughter, and a comfortable silence fell between them as she methodically removed his gear. She stopped when he was left in just his t-shirt and trousers, the quiet turning awkward as they stared at each other for a long moment. Lelia was unsure why Simon wasn’t moving, but she suddenly understood when he let out a rumbly sigh and began to pull off his shirt.
“Oh!” Lelia squeaked, shocked. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him shirtless before—she’d helped him change, back at the cabin—but that was before. Before the sight of his bare, muscular chest and the tattoos adorning it made her belly swoop, the way it had whenever she saw a handsome actor on the telly. She knew she should look away, but she was frozen. There were several scars on Simon’s skin, as well as open, bloodless gashes, ones he’d clearly gotten after turning. She wondered what had caused them—other people, panicking upon seeing him, not realizing he wouldn’t hurt them? Or had it been other zombies? Simon fought them often to keep her safe. Whenever they go too close to their campsite, or when he was clearing a house for them to search… he always made her close her eyes though, so she’d never noticed if they hurt him. She immediately felt guilty.
Simon seemed a little surprised to see her still watching him once his shirt was over his head, and he hesitated at the button on his combat trousers. That snapped Lelia out of her paralyzed state, and she swiftly turned around, stuttering apologies as she did. Simon just huffed a laugh, and a moment later, she heard his heavy steps as he walked away again.
Lelia didn't dare turn around to face the river while he bathed, and she was embarrassed she was even tempted to. It was one thing to find him attractive, even to admire his bare chest—it was another entirely to want to see him naked. That was incredibly improper, absolutely whorish—
You are a whore, a voice in her head that sounded like her mother’s said. Andrew turned you into one far before he made it official by giving you to the sergeants. That’s why you still feel that constant, aching emptiness inside of you. You want to be used. To be stuffed with cock and come, fucked so hard you cry—
Lelia clamped her hands over her ears, knocking Simon’s helmet off, and screwed her eyes shut as she tried to block out the thoughts, shame filling her. She had never enjoyed her time with Andrew or the soldiers, had never wanted what they’d done to her. And yet… a part of her grew increasingly anxious and uncomfortable, every night that went by without something happening. She didn't understand it. Didn’t understand the low, persistent ache in core, an emptiness that used to make her entire body feel hollow but now only seemed to exist between her legs. She should have been relieved not to have to deal with it anymore. To never have to have sex, ever again. But her body was so used to it for so long, that now it seemed to crave it. And against her will, Lelia found herself wondering if Simon could soothe that emptiness too, like he had the one in her chest.
#zombie ghost x oc#zombie ghost#zombie simon riley#zombie ghost cod#zombie!ghost#Dove#simon riley x oc#simon riley cod#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley call of duty#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley x original character#simon ghost riley angst#simon riley angst#simon ghost riley x female oc#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty oc#ghost call of duty#call of duty#simon ghost x oc#ghost x oc#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost angst
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Taylor Swift lyrics with Your Crush p.2
Male reader / Male crush
Requested but Tumblr deleted the ask 😭 m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI word count: 1.1k fyi each lyric is a different scenario, they aren't linked
"Please don't be in love with someone else, please dont have somebody waitin' on you" ~ Enchanted
He was in love with you, (y/c) couldn't deny that anymore, but he was DEEP in the closet
After spending those whole 24h together, it only strengthened his feelings for you
He knew you must like him too after what the two of you did, but during the HUGE amount of talking you two did after having sex (y/c) mentioned his fear or coming out
Now, he's constantly stressed at the idea of you falling for another guy while you wait for (y/c)
He spends nights on end worrying about it, more than he worries about coming out in general
"Oh i remeber you driving to my house in the middle of the night, im the one who makes you laugh even when you're 'bout to cry" ~ You Belong with Me
Not to sound like a pick-me but his girlfriend was horrid
She only dated (y/c) for the social status, a social climber if you would
You and (y/c) have been friends for a while, becoming friends day 1 of high-school
He lived ages away but he would still come over to your house to hang out at least twice a week
You developed a crush on him real quick - after you came out he was one of the few people who stood up for you to the dickheads who thought it was hilarious that your liked guys - and you're heart just skipped a beat
But since he started dating his girlfriend, he's become slightly more distant and definitely less himself
(Y/c) seems overall less happy
So when your phone buzzes in the middle of the night, you could only guess it was (y/c) but the text itself freaked you out
"Im outside please come down"
You're outside ASAP
His eyes are sunken liked he'd been crying or hasn't been sleeping
"Sorry (y/n) I just really needed to talk to someone
You assure him it's okay and ask what's up, and that's when it starts
To summarise, they argued, (y/c) had had enough of his gf controlling little things in his life, she blew up and now he's single
And to summarise again, you invited him in, lent him a shoulder to cry on and the night ended with you two sharing a bed
"I need someone tonight. I'm sorry"
"I could see you in your suit and a neck tie, pass me a note saying 'meet me tonight' then we kiss and you know I won't ever tell" ~ I can see you
After high-school, (y/c) managed to solidify a fancy job, one which had many black tie events - rich people being rich
He would always bring you as a plus one, but you were his "friend" his co-workers had no idea you were his BOY"friend"
He had your permission to do that though, most of the people at these events were investors who were older than stonehenge, so they weren't too fond of gay people
But as soon as the event is over, once the door to the fancy car (y/c) can now afford closes he's all over you and vice versa
By the time you two arrive back home, your neck already had hickeys on it, and his top button is undone along with his gelled hair messed up
Your front door barely locks before (y/c) has you up against a wall, kissing up your neck to your lips
Your hands gently undo his neck tie, juxtaposing his rough hands man-handling you, your mouth, your face
"We could let out friends crash in the living room, this is our place, we make the rules" ~ Lover
You couldn't believe the man you'd known for 4 years, had a college crush on and eventually had a fling with would be the man you buy a house with
He was absolutely enamoured by you since that fateful day during finals, he would fantasise about this day
Memories would be made in this house:
Him sneaking up on you while you were baking in the kitchen, he scared you so much that you hit him with the dough
Playing with the whipped cream afterwards, giggling as he links some off your nose - a moment which could only end in one very spicy way
(Y/c) randomly saying he wanted to paint one of the walls purple at 11pm and the two of you driving to a 24h store and painting the wall until 4am - laughing the whole time
The Christmas lights staying up until the end of January, your friends telling you it was bad luck but the two of you wouldn't take them down - for the sole reason that the two of you couldn't find a day you both had time to do it, refusing to do it by yourselves
"Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending, with all these nights we're spending" ~ King of My Heart
The two of you were close friends, (y/c) had watched you go through every single painful breakup you could ever go through
He subconsciously wished you would break up with your boyfriend everytime you would get with a new one but he'd push those thoughts down for supportive ones for his dear friend
It was late at night, a few weeks after your boyfriend fucked you over again - he was originally your ex which exploited your kind nature, weakling his way back into your life according to (y/c)
Sitting on the hood of his car, you and (y/c) Chat away while drinking WDK, "sweet liquid shit" as (y/c) calls it but he drinks it for you cause you hate all other alcohol
You felt at home, comforted by bring with (y/c), and he felt that this was right, this was how it was supposed to be
That night ended with a kiss, under the moon light, utterly perfect
Or it ended with his car windows steamed up, it's up to you
"Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you, there is an indentation in the shape of you, you made you're mark on me" ~ Dress
He's always been a possessive kinda guy, always touching you in some way
At a formal event, the two of you wanted to keep the PDA at a minimum, but (y/c) couldn't BEAR not being able to touch you for hours, so he decided the next best think was marking you
You'd never shouted at him louder
Not only did he bite your neck and leave a FAT hickey, but it was in a hard to hide spot
You had to spend an extra half hour getting ready cause concealer and Youtube hacks weren't working
Few people at the event noticed and none of them even asked you, but (y/c)'s ego had never soared higher
Also! Just wanna mention that while I do look at my ask box frequently, chances are requests won't be done unless I really like the idea - sorry!
So yeah that's also why this took forever to be made.
#gay#male reader#x male reader#fanfic#fluff#cute gay#taylor swift#your crush#male crush x male reader#male crush x reader#crush x male reader insert#crush x male reader#crush x reader#crush imagines#male crush#songfic#headcannons#gay headcanon#gay imagine#x male reader fluff#male reader fluff
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Back again hehe! (Not anon now tho) Literally adore this page sm! Content is so heartwarming I can’t get enough of it and is easily one of my new fav accs to look through :3 Maybe some MK1 caregiver Reiko and Regressor General Shao Hcs? TY✨
Awhhhh, thank you!!! I love your account as well!!! It's so wholesome and so fun to go through 🥺 (Also the emoji's I used are: 🗡🛡!!)
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
CG Reiko w/ Regressor Shao Hcs
🗡 Shao regresses kinda young, about 1-3
🛡 This is probably mostly because he holds back his regression for a super long time because he's busy, he's the general, he doesn't need relaxation time, this, that, etc, etc
🗡 So when he does regress, he's a baby that just wants to be held and loved 🥺
🛡 I like to think Shao involuntarily regressed for a super long time before even knowing what age regression was
🗡 But also never really fully slipped and was probably stuck in between headspaces without knowing
🛡 It was too scary, feeling fully small and fuzzy, what if someone caught him snuggling his blanket or babbling to his favorite stuffie!!
🗡 It was a deep secret he had where he'd find some time to relax and snuggle with his blankets and hide from all his big kid responsibilities
🛡 The first time Reiko ever saw Shao regressed was when they were doing reports together and Shao started getting frustrated because the words were getting too hard and the acts on the page were too horrid and too big for his tiny mind
🗡 Since Reiko already knew of regression, he kinda just went with the flow
🛡 Said that Shao was too tiny right now to be doing any kind of big kid files and they should take a break and do something fun! Like sword fight or wrestle (Reiko's personal favorite little activities)
🗡 Instead they just kinda cuddled in bed because Shao doesn't like doing those things when he's tiny
🛡 He already has to do them when he's big, don't make him do it while he's small 🥺
🗡 Shao doesn't fully regress regress without Reiko
🛡 He can't, it's too difficult and scary
🗡 Plus what is someone walks in? Or he forgot to lock the door? Reiko's big and strong, he can protect him!!
🛡 One of both their favorite activities is story time
🗡 Reiko has a lot of war experience, and he can use some of his victories into great outlandish tales he's done!!
🛡 (^ keeping most of the gore and stuff to practically nonexistent, and maybe fabrotacting a few things here of there, gotta keep the baby entertained!!)
🗡 You know those big dogs that think they can jump on you and sit on your lap like they're the smallest thing in the world?
🛡 That's Shao, 100%
🗡 What do you mean he's gotta be careful when he's trying to get cuddles? He's just a baby 🥺
🛡 (^ Don't worry though, Shao gets all the cuddles he wants, Reiko’s super strong!!)
🗡 Does have to be careful of his horns though, he doesn't wanna poke someone by accident, that'd hurt :(
🛡 If he did accidentally poke Reiko with them, he'd probably just get a gentle reminder that we gotta be careful when we have super cool horns because sometimes we can hurt others
🗡 Please do not yell at this man, he will cry
🛡 Or, more have tears weld in his eyes and start blubbering when you turn away
🗡 He's a big boy, he doesn't cry!! >:(
🛡 . . . Lier
🗡 Positive reaffirming and gentle redirecting work best with Shao
🛡 He doesn't like getting yelled at, or going to a naughty step, or any type of punishment
🗡 He already has to bark orders all day, deal with people he despises
🛡 Luckily, Reiko can turn very soft when he can read a room
🗡 He gets very patient when Shao does something naughty, leading him in the direction rather than yelling
🛡 Will rarely have to every put his foot down because Shao doesn't actually break too many rules
🗡 Most of their rules are for safety anyhow, although he still doesn't understand why he can't draw on the walls 😒
🛡 When Shao feels a little bit older and not baby baby, he's very bossy
🗡 What does Reiko mean he has to write one more sentence on his paperwork? No he doesn't! He can come cuddle him right now!! That's an order!! >:(
🛡 Stomps and huffs when he doesn't get his way (and Reiko has to finish his job, stupid paperwork)
🗡 Doesn't like feeling tiny and Reiko's not there, its scary
🛡 Reiko's got a full time job on his hands, bossy baby on his hip 24/7, fr
🗡 Doesn't like others babysitting him either, right now only Reiko knows and he has no plans on changing that
🛡 Reiko doesn't mind, they'll move at his pace
🗡 Horn scratches are must!!!
🛡 Well, any scratches are a must, lightly on the arm, back scratches while cuddling, almost anywhere Shao has scales
🗡 For being a lieutenant, Reiko has really nice nails that are perfect for scratchies
🛡 Reiko's favorite CG nicknames are Papa or Bubba (when Shao's really small 'Ko cause Shao will repeat it and it makes Reiko feel all big and proud)
🗡 Shao's favorite little nicknames are Little One, Fierce Guy, Tough Cookie, Baby-Bear
🛡 I could probably see Shao being a dragon regressor too??
🗡 And that means he steals all of Reiko's nice shiny stuff for his blankie nest, its his now, Reiko doesn't have a choice >:(
🛡 He's also much more active in this headspace and will play more games like tag or hide and seek
🗡 Shao also likes being called Hatchling when he's a dragon
🛡 Overall, he's either a very cuddly baby, or a little bossy baby (still super cuddly though)
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
I know they're mostly focused on Shao but I hope you like them!!! :D
#age regression#agere#sfw age regression#age regression headcanons#mk1#mk1 headcanons#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat 1 headcanons#mortal kombat agere#sfw agere#reiko#reiko mk#mk reiko#general shao#mk general shao#CG Reiko#Regressor General Shao#Little General Shao
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Future Android 18 being confused when her own body gets hit with the contingencies.
Bulma found some of Geros work but may have picked the wrong signal. Instead of activating the bomb she evacuated the bowels.
[Warning like really gross]
"We'll see who's laughing now... I've spent months reverse engineering this kill switch! I'll see you in hell you damn blubbery tyrant!" Bulma cursed struggling to keep her mind and hand steady as she held a detonator in her hands. Without a second thought she'd push the button and carefully watch from her concealed hiding place amongst the ruined rubble of the trashed city waiting for the Android menace to expire. "Any second now..." Bulma though her mind filled with visions of all those they had lost up till now.
"BWOOOOOOOOORP! Fuck me these burgers are even better. I don't know what 17 was worried about, keeping humans alive to make food was the best idea I ever had." The futuristic and sadistic version of 18 belched as she sat atop a creaking and bending bench gorging herself on food she had collected from the various surviving settlements the androids hadn't torched in their path of destruction.
"I bet the pizza is ever better!" 18 snorted and huffed wiping away a smear of ketchup from her lips with a flabby arm before shoving her greasy pudgy sausage fingers down towards a pizza rolling the entire thing up like a burrito and swallowing it in one gulp.
"It... it didn't work?" Bulma though fearful she had made a mistake but a sudden change in the androids expression almost made her give up her position.
"Hhrk... Hnnng! Wha- whatsh happenin'?" 18 groaned and grunted as she clenched her chest and belly doubling over in her seat as sweat began to drip down from her forehead in thick greasy beads. Bulma knew it had to be the bomb! She'd get to watch the murderer suffer for everything she had done! Or so she thought... 18 didn't explode instead an ominously gurgling began to grow louder as she panted and wheezed. The blonde menace looked to be in pain as her face scrunched up and she leaned to the side hefting her elephant sized ass cheek off the bench and letting out an explosive
"BRAAAAAAAAPPPPP BLOOOOOOORT!!!!!"
Like a cannon going off the androids stomach unleashed an explosive burst of flatulence with her sweat stained jeans rumbling as her gas soiled the already ruined fabric and flooded the surrounding area with a rancid, rotten and brown tinted smog that almost made Bulma faint from the sheer horridness of the smell.
"Shit... whew... that was FOUL! I feel like I've been holding that in all day. Ah who am I kidding I've been full of it since I ate those deep fried dino tails." The crass and vulgar android joked unaware of the distraught scientist In hiding just aways away from her.
"But... I had to work... I-I did everything I could..." Bulma said muttering to herself almost crying as she looked down at the remote in disappointment in herself and her work. "I failed..." she said tears now freely running down her cheeks.
"Once I finish up this pile I bet those bakers down in south town have had long enough to make me another wedding cake, if not I might just blow them up... or their toilet whichever one comes first." Future 18 grunted letting out one last burst of gas before getting up and digging her fingers into the back of her jeans to pull the stained fabric up and over her exposed sweaty ass. Standing up however wad definitely a mistake as her stomach dropped and the androids face paled. Something inside her was jostled loose by her sudden movement and she didn't like where it was going.
"Oh shit..." is all the Android got out before the flood gates opened and the fail safe Bulma had unintentionally triggered kicked in.
"BLOOOOOOOOORT!"
18's bowels gave way and her jeans already ruined by her humid body began to bulge and sag as she emptied the contents of her gut Into her pants stretching the material out and sagging to the ground in a rancid beanbag sized boulder of filth. Her pudgy cheeks turned scarlet as she voided her bowels emptying everything she had consumed and digested in her cauldron of a gut in a matter of moments. This was the straw that broke the camels back and bulma couldn't keep it together anymore. It was a mixture of anger, sadness, disgust all at once and despite a breath sadistic grin at ruining the Android and humiliating the world's torment she quickly passed out when another explosive fart left 18's rear overwhelming her senses and singing her nose with the burning overwhelming smell.
With the last of mess sputtering out into her pants the Android stood in shock at what she had done. 18 sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before lifting a pudgy finger into the air and blasting the mound of half eaten food with a ki blast before flying off leaving a thick scent trail behind her and carrying her swaying sagging britches along with her. She left without a word...
#slob#anon ask#muse: android 18#muse: 18#muse: bulma#tw: extreme slob#extreme slob#tw: scat#tw: soiling#gross
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The second chapter of my fic is on
AO3
Everything is Romantic
Chapter 02 // The Kettle is Whistling
Following the line of police cars to Arkham late that night, Genie slipped in as a guard, courtesy of a so-called "friend." The disguise was easy enough to get; she just needed an oversized uniform and a hat to tuck her hair under. She looked plain and forgettable, which was exactly the point.
"I'm supposed to check in here. Mike called me to help with an inmate," she said, keeping her voice steady.
"Fine. Just get moving, we don't have all day... and you're starting now? At this time of night? Typical... lazy," the guard grumbled, waving her through.
Genie ignored him and headed quickly down the hallway, hoping it was the right direction. Shouts echoed from every direction, but there was one voice louder than the rest, coming from the upper floors.
Her sixth sense was right. Arthur.
Footsteps thudded above her, heavy and fast, like a chase was already underway.
One hour ago
“Remember when I told you I had some delightful intel on the abuse in Arkham? Well, tonight—let’s hope I’m wrong—but I think I can snag some proof. If I hear anything juicy, I’ll signal you with a flashlight from the nearest window facing the front. You need to get your team in fast, or I’ll just have to do it myself. And we both know how that ends.”
“Genie, I get that you can’t stand those guards, but come on... You’re not the first to whistleblow. Why is this suddenly urgent?”
“Because you owe me, Henry. And deep down, you know it. Now, let’s make this a little fun, shall we? You used to be such a good sport.”
“You mean when you were a mercenary instead of a lawyer? I really deserve this, don’t I?”
“Oh, absolutely. Nothing says fun like a bit of chaos. Now let’s get to it.”
“Gen, I swear to God, you better be right about this… you know that there r actually things going on the city that really really attention? thanks to your new toy/lover boy”
“Oh, fuck! Like what? Where were you when people like Arthur needed your help?”
“God, can you hear yourself? You acting as if you have.. idk.. a heart?.. are you sick, Genie?”
“Ughhh…”
Fine, Commander Killjoy. I’ll have two teams ready—one for the front, one for the back. Just be discreet with the signal, and for God’s sake, don’t do anything reckless. I can’t cover for your... extracurriculars like I used to.”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll behave. Promise! But no guarantees I won’t have a bit of fun…”
“Gen…”
“A tiny, tiny bit!”
“God, if you r right then.. lets see..”
---------------
"I'm gonna f***ing murder you all!" Arthur's scream echoed through the halls.
"Sure, Arthur, and I'm the Queen of Sabah..." One of the guards muttered under his breath as she crept closer.
She could hear everything, and the guards weren’t even trying to be discreet about it. Their voices carried clearly, a brutal mix of punishment and humiliation meant for Arthur, but loud enough for the rest of the inmates to catch every word. Arthur was even atempting with some jokes.. using the little humor letf in him. But it was too late, it was designed to crush any hope he might have been stirring up among them.
Genie followed the screams, keeping a safe distance. She saw them drag Arthur into a bathroom, shoving his head under the faucet and tossing him around like he was nothing. It was the kind of old-fashioned torture you’d expect in a place like this—nothing subtle, just raw violence dressed up as discipline.
Inside, one guard was already straddling Arthur while the other two held him down, too busy laughing at their own horrid little show to realize they'd soon be part of a very different act.
Genie moved fast. Like a shadow slipping in behind the guard hovering over Arthur, she bent low, wrapping her fingers into his greasy hair, pulling just hard enough to make him flinch.
“Are you all turned on for me?” she whispered, her lips curling into a smile that sent shivers.
The pocket knife was out before he had a chance to blink—her wrist flicking expertly as she dragged the blade across his throat. A swift, clinical cut. He barely had time to register what happened before blood sprayed out, splattering the floor in vibrant arcs.
“Oops,” she said, her voice sweetly mocking as she turned to the others, standing there like stunned cattle.
They got a lovely shower of their friend’s blood. Thats for sure.
One guard blinked rapidly, his jaw hanging trying to process the whole scene while standing up as if to run. “What the hell? Who are you?”
“Go on,” she taunted, leaning back against the wall, casual as you please. “I locked all the doors on my way in, so you can scream. Please, do. I’m dying for your moral lesson, now”
One of them bolted—because, of course, there’s always a runner. But Genie? She wasn’t finished with the one right in front of her.
“You could be nex—”
Bang. The bullet hit his knee before he could finish, and his legs buckled with a sickening crack. He screamed, obviously, but Genie just watched him squirm, dispassionately driving her knife into his thigh to keep him entertained.
“Arghhh!”
She cocked her head, feigning curiosity. “Are you serious?” Her voice dripped with boredom.
From behind her, the other guard—the one who had backed himself near the door—finally put two and two together. “Jesus! I know you… You’re that lawyer wh—”
Before he could finish, she slammed her boot into his groin. The way his body collapsed to the floor was almost...artistic. The hairpin was already in her hand as she tugged off her cap, shaking her hair free.
“Squeeler!” She stepped forward, crouching down with the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. He spat in her face—charming.
Her hand froze mid-motion. She wiped the spit off slowly, too slowly, and gave him a smile that promised terrible things. “Well, now that was just rude. But don’t worry, I know a little trick.”
She pinned him down with ease, pressing the venom-laced hairpin dangerously close to his wide, terrified eye. “Normally, I only need one pin, but tonight feels special, doesn’t it?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the second guard, still whimpering and bleeding out by Arthur. He looked pitiful. Pathetic, really. A puppet with its strings cut.
The guard beneath her whimpered. “Please… don’t…”
“Oh, but darling,” she cooed, leaning closer, eyes gleaming. “You’re going to love this.” She pressed the pin against his eye, watching with satisfaction as it punctured, releasing the venom in a quick, clean pop. His scream filled the room, echoing off the walls like music. Beautiful, horrible music.
Arthur, face-down in a pool of his own blood, was silent now. Not dead—just detached, floating somewhere far away. He wasn’t part of this anymore, even tho he could feel the warm blood running on the floor, close to him.
She turned back to the second guard, who was clutching his knee, blood spilling out faster than his bravado. “What’s wrong? I’m not doing it for you?” she teased, tilting her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Where’s your sense of humor?”
He spat again. Ugh. Men and their disgusting bodily fluids.
Genie sighed, wiping her face with exaggerated disgust. “Classy. Alright then, guess I’ll just have to amuse myself.”
She leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s see how funny things can get…”
______
"Enough, Genie!!!"
There he was—Connor, her reliable but constantly exasperated police friend—standing right in front of her, hands on his hips, looking like a babysitter who’s just walked in on the house on fire.
“I’ve got the team downstairs,” he said through gritted teeth. “I knew you were going to mess this up. Now, get out of here. Let me handle it from here.”
“But wait! I haven’t even finished threatening this one yet—he’s going to be my witness! I’ve got his wife and kids all nicely under the radar... just give me a minute—”
“A what?” The guard, in a daze of pain and disbelief, somehow found his voice.
Connor cut in before Genie could answer. “I’ll do it, G. Just leave. Now.”
Genie rolled her eyes, but there was no humor behind it. “Not without him!” She pouted, jabbing a finger at Arthur, - like a child pointing at her favorite teddy bear - still lying on the floor, drowning in a growing sea of his own blood of the two lifeless guards.
Connor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I know... just... get out of my sight. Both of you.” He gestured toward the scene, the chaos she'd created. “I’ll clean this up, G, but this is it. We’re calling it quits after this. You went too far—it's going to be damn near impossible not to incriminate you at this point.”
Genie grinned, as if the whole thing was a compliment. “But I know you’ll do a great job figuring it all out. You always do.” She gave his hair a playful ruffle as she moved toward Arthur, completely ignoring the tension in the air.
Connor recoiled.
G was close to Arthur’s face now, “Ugh, don't want you in touch or breathing that! God knows what they have in their blood.. not higienical, Arthur!, get up!”
Arthur, meanwhile, wasn’t even present in the moment. His body was here, sure, but his mind? Gone. Probably off somewhere nicer, floating between half-consciousness and whatever place your brain goes when it’s been off meds for days.
Genie crouched next to him, feigning concern with a wicked glint in her eye. “C’mon, princess. Do I have to carry you too?”
Arthur didn’t respond. He couldn’t, really. Not that she needed him to, she already knew the deal.
He was alive, she was sure of that, but she should have come sooner.
#arthur fleck#arthur fleck fanfiction#joker 2019#joker folie a deux#arthur fleck x ofc#arthur fleck x reader#joker
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A Family Found 6.5
Tate's Hunter Journal Entry XXXX
It's finally time! Master said a beast had been spotted near a town not too far from here and he's going to bring me along on the hunt! Of course, I'm just watching this time, but he says its important for me to observe too!
He did warn me not to let any of the other hunters see me writing in my 'diary', so I might not write as much for the new week or so (I have told him so many times its not a diary! It's a journal!).
Got lots of preparations to do before we leave, so gonna head to sleep early!
Tate's Hunter Journal Entry XXXX
Master and the other hunters are off doing some scouting for tomorrow's hunt so I finally have some time to myself. What a scary bunch! I thought Master was intimidating but those other hunters make him seem like… well, still kinda scary.
They keep hammering in that the reason I'm here is as a warning, not as a way to learn hunting methods, but I don't really get why. Something about failing to feed the old blood? They won't even tell me what that is, just that it's important.
Apparently the beast we're hunting used to be someone Master knew, although he doesn't want to talk about it much. If that's the case, does that mean hunter's can become beasts too..? But that would be kind of ridiculous. If Master ever became a beast… Too scary to think about.
Tomorrow's the big day though. I'm not supposed to do anything but watch from a distance and make sure no one interferes with their hunt. I asked them what I should do if they needed help but they just laughed at me and said if that was the case then it was already hopeless…
I wish they would show me just a little bit of respect sometimes… They act like I'm still just some farmer's kid sometimes! Still, Master says if I disobey here he'll kick me out so I better just be quiet and do what they say. Gonna head to sleep now, excited for tomorrow!
XXXX
This will be my last journal entry. Master is dead. So are the others. It happened on that day, when we went to hunt the beast. I would have wrote this sooner but I couldn't stop shivering for long enough to put my pen to paper until now.
No one told me what the beast was going to look like until the day of the hunt. I had expecting something like a giant wolf or bear, but that horrible thing was something else entirely. Just thinking about it makes my heart go cold, I can't bring myself to describe it.
All I'll say is that I've had nightmares of it every night since, and I don't think I could ever scrub it from my mind completely. It's voice was the worst part… It was like desperate howling and horrid singing both, and it was so deep it shook the trees each time it 'spoke'.
I can't remember the details of the fight too well. Just that it started off well but something about the beast being smarter and faster than expected catching them off guard. It's body kept shifting and changing forms, sometimes it almost even looked human.
Master was the first one dead… He.. I never knew he could scream or sob… I thought he wasn't human until I saw his guts spilling out of his chest. The other hunters lasted a bit longer, but once one of them was down it was clear who was really being hunted.
The stench from that day is still stuck in my nostrils, no matter how much I bathe. When all the others were dead, that horrible thing looked directly at me. I thought I was dead but… I ended up being saved. Not by another hunter but by a witch.
I had been distracted since seeing Master die so I had no idea when she or her two dolls arrived, but I think even if she had arrived before master was dead she wouldn't have done anything. I'm still not sure why she even let me live…
When I noticed her, she told me to run, but my legs wouldn't move so she commanded one of her dolls to carry me instead. It was such a tiny thing yet it picked me up with ease… The way it looked at me was strange, as if it wasn't sure whether to pity or scorn me.
I passed out at some point as it carried me through the forest and by the time I woke up I was back in the nearby town, resting in a bed at the inn. They told me that a traveler had found me and brought me here, that the beast was dealt with but the hunter's had all died…
I don't know what that witch was planning, but at this point I'm done asking those kinds of questions. If that horrible monstrosity was what I would have to fight if I became a hunter, if it could kill even Master, then I want nothing of it.
I'm going back to my hometown and going to ask Pa to let me work on the farm again. I might have to beg and plead after the big scene I made leaving to become a hunter but hopefully Ma will be on my side. No more hunters or witches or beasts for Tate, just fields and livestock.
At first I was planning on burning this journal and forgetting about everything but… well, maybe one day I'll have kids of my own and they'll think living on the farm is boring like I did. If that happens, I'll show them this and it will change their minds. At least I hope…
I'm sorry Master, I'll never forget what you taught me… I just wish I could forget the rest.
Signed, Tate, a former hunter's apprentice
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He loved me fiercely, I believe. He was intoxicating perfume, the barest whisper of a promise of a life that I had never known before and thought I would never see. He promised me not jewelry, or gifts, but devotion and a deep, passionate love that I still miss to this day.
It is strange to say, is it not? That a man like him would love so truly. A torturer of his kingdom, flaying the skin off of it for his own personal gratification. I was swept up in this new world I found myself in, of luxury in a foreign world, and he was careful to keep the darker parts of himself concealed around me. Indeed, when his subjects began confessing his dark deeds to me, I had laughed them off. It seemed ridiculous at the time. They held up a mirror that I was blind to, and by the time it was too late, I had already seen the cracked reflection in my husband’s eyes.
You ask if he harmed me. No. Not even once. Ever gallant, ever gentle, and always willing to please me. He would apologize if he did me wrong, and changed himself to fit my needs. I did the same, overcome by his emotion. I must confess to you, those years I spent married to him changed me deeply. Born to a cruel and uncaring world, it was easy for me to adopt his outlook on life. And by the gods, was it a horrid one.
We burned the world down together. Feeling justified in our hatred, our suffering, we took from the world what we did not have when we were children. People starved because of my actions, my decadence, and people suffered beneath his rule. I wonder every night whether one of those people will come looking for revenge, and I find myself feeling as though they are justified in doing so.
The stories told of me, I became. He called me his lover, and so I was. Then the people whispered of me, of that harlot who dared abet a cruel and callous ruler like him. And so I let myself be twisted by their words, and I began to aid him in his dark interests. Make no mistake, the fault lies with me. But I will say this: given a choice between a man who loves you and a people who abhor you, the decision was clear to me. I assume that most others are of better moral fibre than me, and I am left awake with the stars at the thought of it.
He was the first one to love me. How could I have resisted that? Deprived of affection for so long, he fed me a feast’s worth of it. I likely would have never strayed from his side had I not learned to love fully. You see, that love began creep into other parts of my life, and soon I found myself caring about others again. A childish thing that I had spurned once for all the pain that trust and care had brought me, now I realize that holding onto it in spite of being hurt again and again is a virtue, not a weakness.
When I betrayed him, a lingering ache was placed in my heart that persists to this day. Tyrant though he was, I still loved him, and it always hurts to breathe when I think of what I did. The look in his eyes as I was outed as a traitor. He had all the right to execute me, but instead he sent me away, and tried to hide the tears I had left in his eyes. Another thing to keep me awake at night, I suppose. I deserve that much.
Even now, all these years later, I pay the weregild that I owe this land and its people. I will never stop fighting for our independence from these kings, not for as long as I live. I shall hunt the false gods until my last breath, and even then I might leave something behind that generations after me can pick up my blade in my stead. I will never pay off my debt of blood, I know. But I shall try anyways, and I will make this place a better world for those who come after me. We all make mistakes, and the child that is shunned by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. Hopefully the ones who come after me will not follow in my ashes.
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MERLOT
"Just another lonely night." is the constant thought that swarms my mind.
My life is nothing but a routine that never ends; there is no spark or thrill, and it ends with me sitting on this squeaky, lumpy old couch that I have grown to love over the past few years. Sadly, the longest relationship I have had is with this couch, and our dates include a tv show I have watched repeatedly and a bottle of Pinto.
I can go out and enjoy all that life offers a 26-year-old, with nightclubs, parties, one-night stands, etc. Just the thought of it alone causes the taste of dinner to wiggle up my esophagus to the back of my throat. I have never been interested in the usual antics of someone in their twenties. I enjoy staying home, reading, writing, and watching classic movies, but I also hate it because the feeling of loneliness sits right next to me like an old friend. It greets me when I climb into bed; it lays next to me, wraps its arms around me, and whispers the harshness of my life choices and how they will always be here.
I know it's depressing, but it is all I know; I have been alone since my mother gave birth. I know I have family and friends with me, but how can you call them such when you feel no real connection with them? How can they be family and friends when they can't fill the deep hole within your soul? That's the right, soul, not heart, and no, I am not being over dramatic! My soul feels like it has a growing hole, and it continues to grow and deepen with each passing day.
Do you know what I wish for, what I have prayed for every night since I was a child who could fully understand the need for companionship? I have prayed and wished! For someone to come into my life and fill my soul and heart with much love and happiness. I will meet someone who can bring up every emotion on the spectrum. Anger, happiness, sadness, etc. I don't care; I just want to feel something other than nothing at all. I take these thoughts to bed with me, and don't tell me, "well, maybe you suffer from depression." I know I suffer from depression and three other mental illnesses, but when medicine no longer works, and those feelings still exist, what then? You start to ask yourself, is it a chemical imbalance in your brain or spiritual? Has my soul been alone since my first life, and has it carried this loneliness for every life? Have I not had anyone to fill this void in my soul? God! another horrid thought to take to bed.
Turning off the Tv, I annoyingly shuffle my feet to my bedroom, rolling my eyes at the fact my roommate once again is entertaining "one of her hoes," Shame is a new feeling right now because I have tried walking a mile in her shoes. Is that the right word for it? I guess I had my share of "hoes" and didn't enjoy a millisecond. Every kiss, touch, and thrust (cringe) felt wrong and foreign to me like I shouldn't be doing this or at least with this person. After 5 attempts, I finally gave up on the hoe thing and decided to just wait, but how long will this delay be?
As I climb into bed and get all snuggly, I daydream about the perfect guy and our relationship. Sometimes they are fanfictions on a book I have read, a tv show, or a comic book universe (DC!), and I throw myself in it, making my own sensible character. I have already taken my antipsychotics for the night and can feel them slowly ease my body to relax. When I take my medicine, it feels like someone is pressing a chloroform-drenched cloth over my nose and mouth, and I fall into a deep sleep. Like I am doing now, right before I drift to dreamland, I feel my bed dip, and it's like someone has climbed into it. It can't force me to open my eyes and check there is no rush of adrenaline to cause me to jump out of bed. I just lay here, letting them crawl and lay next to me. Like I have been tossed down Alice's hole into wonderland, I begin to fall with the whispers of "Mine" echoing around me.
Can't scream or move, and fear is starting to spread throughout my veins! I want to wake up now, please!
"Be still, my love.", A husky voice calls out to me.
I don't know why I care that his voice sounds like warm honey being brushed all over my body, but for some reason, I do.
"Open your eyes." commanding little shit, isn't he?
I open my eyes to find myself in my living room, but instead of grey-painted walls, they are a dark deep red. No couch or boxes of books were scattered around the room, just a long dining table in the center. I look towards the window, and there are no street lights, just void blackness, the type of black that no light can shine through. I'm not even going to bother looking at the man because I can't see anything, and I also don't care enough to look. Probably because I am peeing my pants scared, and if he looks like some horrible creature from sinister (I freaking hate that movie!), I will have a damn heart attack. He laughs, like those deep-throaty laughs you read in romance novels that sound so sexy toward the female character.
"Are you done with your inner monologue? You have wished and prayed for me since you were a child, and now that I am here, you fear me? What an odd little creature."
As if I was bitched slapped, my head turned towards him and, with great disappointment
"Once again with the inner monologue? Little one, just speak to me."
"Fine! Why can't I see you?" Freaking twat muffin!
"Because I am too far from you; if I was closer, I could show myself more clearly. Not that that matters we have met before and you have seen my face. You just don't remember. Also any thought that you have, I can hear it."
"ops"
I turn my head away slightly and hide my smile cause; honestly, it is a little funny.
"Is it now?" Th,e sexy voiced man then placed a glass of red wine in front of me, and all I had to say was it better not be Merlot.
"It is, little love; I apologize that the type of wine is not your liking, but if you want, you can always change it the next go around. I am giving you a choice here, little love, to end your suffering to rid you of your loneliness. To stay here with me and get everything you ever wanted in life, and all you have to do, my love, is to give in. Drink the wine and stay with me or return to your current life and continue to suffer alone."
"Just give in, right?" I reach for the glass……….
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comforting their lover on a bad day w/ Rayleigh & Roger & gn!reader
a/n: i was having ✨a day✨ and needed to write my silly little men for comfort. that's it. maybe they bring you some, too <3
word count: 793
It was one of those days where you just wanted to disappear.
You couldn’t tell why, but the tiniest things felt like walking on glass and made you want to scream and cry for three days straight; you despised your own mood so much and were a menace to be around, snapping at the people you loved the most. When your favorite plate slips out of your hands and shatters on the ground, sending what was supposed to be your comfort snack flying, you simply burst out in hot, angry tears.
You were so fucking useless.
Not being able to stand the worried faces of your crew members, you run off to your cabin, ignoring the voices that call out your name until you slam the door close behind you, your vision blurry. Your face felt so hot from the rage and the shame and you could hardly catch your breath. If only you could crawl out of this skin or rinse your brain under cold water. You kick off your shoes with quiet sniffles and crawl straight into your unmade bed, pulling the blanket over your head where you allow yourself to bawl until your head hurts from all the crying. At least the throbbing muted your horrid thoughts for a bit and let you slip into a restless slumber.
It is already dark in your cabin when you wake up again, a big hand carefully brushing your hair out of your face. You could have sworn you heard some knocking on your door earlier in your dreams. Sadness still had a tight grip around your heart; it was the kind which didn’t just disappear after some sleep, it never did. You lean closer into the touch, trying not to cry on the spot again.
“Today is rough, huh?” Rayleigh’s voice is soft and forgiving, pulling on your heart strings. “But we’re here now.”
You blink a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room. Rayleigh is sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over you, his hand resting on top of your head. Next to the bed is Roger, squatting down, his shirt loosely unbuttoned, his big captain’s hat sitting on the table in the corner. You can tell his eyes are full of worry as he gently takes your hand peeking out from under the covers and places a big kiss on top of it, mumbling your name.
“I’m so sorry, I just–”
And here came the tears again. You cover your face with your free hand, sobbing quietly. Everything was just too much, everything felt so fragile, as if you could shatter into a million pieces any second. You felt like you didn’t deserve their love, that they were better off without miserable old you; as if you robbed them of their sunshine with your existence alone. You curl up into a ball, unable to look your two lovers in the eyes, their touch burning on your skin with deep desire and guilt.
The captain and his first mate exchange worried glances but immediately know what to do. Roger doesn’t let go of your hand, no matter how badly you try to pull it away; instead he gets up and crawls into bed with you, pulling your figure against his broad chest. Rayleigh robs in the niche between you and the wall, hugging you tight from behind, nuzzling his face in the back of your neck, soft kisses trailing down your spine.
Sandwiched between them you allow yourself to wail, letting go of all the frustration that built up inside of you over the past few days. You still felt miserable but their reassuring words, whispered into the dark, found their way into your heart, sending tiny sparks through it like fireflies. There was no place like home except in their arms, it was where you felt the safest you ever had. Rayleigh is kissing the spot behind your ear, mumbling how much he loved you while Roger had his arms around the two of you, kissing you both on top of your heads.
You can feel your body relaxing a bit, sinking deeper into their embrace, letting them love you in a way you feel like you don’t deserve it but still crave it; your heart bathing in their adoration for you. It will take a while until you shake off this darkness inside of you, but you have a feeling that everything will gonna be okay in the end as long as these two would be there to pick you up again, both holding out a hand for you to help you spread your wings so you could fly towards the sun again; knowing they would be there to catch you, too.
#silvers rayleigh#gol d. roger#dark king rayleigh#rayleigh x reader#roger x reader#rayleigh x roger x reader#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert#one piece comfort#one piece scenario#one piece fluff
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I have a rule in my audiobook reviews that I can only use them to comment on the sound design, voice acting, mixing, etc. Y’know, things the audiobook is adding to the book, not the book itself. I can’t use those posts to comment on Tolkien’s writing; that is reserved for my chapter reviews. But I listened to this bit the other day, and I just can’t get it out of my head, so I need to scream about it some more.
For context, I encourage you to listen to Phil Dragash’s recording of “The Ring Goes South”; Merry’s section here happens within the first two minutes, and I promise it will be two minutes well spent.
All done? Good. Now let’s talk about that voice acting.
@tolkien-feels described Merry as “probably the least warm and fuzzy of the hobbits, but you’d have to be extremely dense to fail to notice how deeply he loves”. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Out of all the hobbits, I think Merry can be accurately described as "the Smart One"; he seems to be the leader of the Conspirators, definitely the logistics and details guy, and the best spoken out of the four main hobbits, second to Frodo. Compared to Sam and Pippin's big emotions, and Frodo's whining melancholy, Merry stands out as the most reserved and even-tempered, almost stoic for a hobbit.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't have some deep emotions under that calm surface, and I think Mr. Dragash's voice acting in this passage brought that out fully—in subtle, but unmistakable, force.
Listen to Merry at the beginning. He's so quiet at first. “I don’t wonder [that you want to rest], and I wish you could.” My mind immediately conjures an image of him with his elbow on the sill of the open window, pipe in hand and smoke milling around his head, but a little furrow between his eyebrows that could only be seen if one knew what to look for.
He sounds so thoughtful. So pensive. Like he’s still thinking about how it felt to watch Frodo suffer from the wound in his shoulder. The quiet thrum of anxious fear as he watched a member of his family, someone he loves nearly like a brother, grow pale and weak and listless over the long weeks. The little twinge in his chest every time Frodo winced while climbing onto the pony; the hatred he felt for every step that Frodo had to take over rough terrain, stumbling and weary and nearly blind.
Did Merry feel any phantom pain in his own shoulder, or in his heart? Did he offer a hand to Frodo when he stumbled, or let him lean on him when the path was wide enough for two? Did he weep in private like Sam did, or simply sit in silence, and stay up as late as his exhaustion would allow him, staring into the growing darkness and worrying? How did he feel in that instant when they found Frodo's crumpled body face-down on the other side of the Ford, pale and still, and the horrid thought flashed through his mind that "maybe he's dead"?
Three days, Frodo lay in a bed, talking to himself but not awake, and slowly growing more translucent. Three days, even the Elves couldn't find the cause. Three days, Merry sat around like we do in hospital waiting rooms: biting nails, or pacing, or reading as a distraction but not really able to pay attention to what's on the page, feeling tiny and helpless and terrified and silently praying that people smarter and more skilled can save the ones we love.
And then, the splinter was found. Frodo recovered. If Merry had been holding his breath the whole time, he could let it out now. Frodo was up and about in no time, eating and walking and laughing, and there wasn't a thing in the world that Merry could possibly worry about.
And then, all this happens.
Yes, Merry wishes Frodo could just rest. Both for Frodo's own sake—because he's been through enough already, by heaven—but also to ease his own worries, because he loves him, and the thought of Frodo walking off into more danger is yet another burden on his mind.
It's a burden he takes up willingly, of course, and with aplomb if anyone needs convincing. He just wishes it wasn't necessary.
But now his mood shifts. He turns his head away from the window and addresses Frodo directly, and a little more lightly in spite of the subject matter. "But we are envying Sam, not you."
There's a little bit of rueful humor and fond annoyance in his tone here. "Not everything is about you, all the time, you dramatic half-wit." At the same time, he's speaking plainly his frustration with the situation, with a little humor to soften it.
"If you have to go, then it will be a punishment for any of us to be left behind! Even in Rivendell." Yes, he knows it's lovely, yes, the waterfalls are beautiful, yes, he has more food than he could possibly want here, but that doesn't matter. He made a decision—heck, he made a promise. "We are coming with you, or following you like hounds."
"We have come a long way with you, and been through some stiff times." He sounds proud of this, and he has right to be. Frodo's three companions have been "tested by fire", so to speak—or rather tested by tree, and barrow, and a very long walk—and they've proved themselves of sterner stuff than first imagined. That should be credentials enough to allow them to stay at Frodo's side, and to risk even greater danger. Even if that's not a very impressive résumé to the wise and the powerful, it should still be enough to convince Frodo of one thing: "We love you, darn it, and you're not getting rid of us that easily."
"We want to go on." Oh my word, this line. Five little words, and so much nuance in them.
One of the simultaneously lovely and infuriating things about LotR is the scarcity of italics used in dialogue; it leads you to use your own imagination to determine the way each sentence is delivered. Most of the time, it's fairly obvious, but here, Mr. Dragash's reading completely changed the way I interpreted this sentence.
First of all, the emphasis on want. An affirmation, and sort of a spotlight, on the fact that this is their free will, and also a slight challenge to oppose it. "You think you have our best interests at heart? You want to make us happy? Then respect our decisions and desires. Namely, our desire to stay by your side.”
Secondly, the little rise in his voice in go on. It's a tiny, tiny thing, but it hit me upon listening to this again. His voice doesn't drop into a determined but grim growl; he doesn't think of "going on" as a gauntlet of hardships to be feared but grudgingly endured. He says "go on" like it's an opportunity, another step in the adventure, the ultimately happy continuation of their journey thus far. There's a little touch of hope and optimism in the way he says it. Will it be difficult? Yes. But fundamentally, he believes it will be good, and that outweighs the difficulty.
Both of those things put together chances the tone of the sentence—now it’s not just a simple restatement of the thesis of the argument, but also an impassioned plea for Frodo to understand just what this means to his companions, and how important it is. You can almost hear Merry leaning forward for emphasis when he says it. “We want to go on.” And the implication is, “please understand this; it’s very, very important that you do.”
Did Mr. Dragash think this hard about the delivery of these lines when he read them? Probably not. But maybe it's even more of a testament to his acting that I can pull so much meaning out of a few sentences. As someone who is also fairly reserved on the outside but has huge emotions under the surface, I relate to Merry, and I'm delighted to see him portrayed like this. We quiet ones always have a lot we're thinking about, and it's there if you know how to read us.
Or maybe I'm just rambling nonsensically about nothing because it's nearly 3 AM and Merry and Frodo apparently own my heart now LOL
#meriadoc brandybuck#merry#frodo baggins#my writing#lotr audiobook#audiobook#phil dragash#lord of the rings#lotr#long post#in which i wax eloquent about tiny vocal inflections for WAY too long
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Lee Jeno
'You ease Jeno's frustrations during a late night recording session."
Warnings : unprotected sex, cockwarming, generally quite fluffy.
Word count : 1.8k
You were in your pajamas at 1 a.m. in the morning, still in the company because your boyfriend is trying to record the best version of his verse in the recording booth a few feet away, his black denim jacket draped across your chest to shield you from the cold.
You were going through your own lyrics, making a few changes here and there to make sure the flow of the song suits you, working in a low volume to avoid disturbing Jeno, who was already getting antsy from this certain verse.
When you were done, you placed the pencil on the desk and got up from your seat, walking to the booth where Jeno had his handsome face in a frown.
“You okay, Jeno? Aren’t you cold in here?” you asked as you took his jacket off of you, draping it back onto his broad shoulders.
“I'm feeling fine, you should use it,” Jeno said shortly before he takes it off, putting it onto you again.
“But you're just in a tank, and you have to perform on stages very soon, you can't catch a cold,” you argued before trying to take it off once more, only to be stopped by Jeno’s hands.
“I'm fine, you're the one who's sensitive to the cold, I don't want you to get sick because of me, I didn't ask for you to be here with me, and still you showered and came back here to be with me, I'm sorry for eating up our time, I know I promised to have a night in with you,” Jeno said with a sad tinge to his usually cheerful eyes before reaching out for you, embracing you into his warmth.
“I know how important this comeback is for you, I wanted to stay here with you because I'm stubborn and that's on me, not you,” you said before turning your body to tuck yourself closer into Jeno, giving his bicep a quick peck before burying your head into his neck, the familiar scent of cologne filling your lungs.
Jeno let's out a chuckle at this odd but familiar action, you started doing this since the day Jeno had started working out on his arms more, every little thing he does you’d always be proud of it, which is why you're so different from everyone else, Jeno feels safe with you, the fact that the both of you absolutely adore each other irks his members out, but he doesn’t care, not when he only has eyes for you.
“I love you,” Jeno said without hesitation, it's always been like this for the two of you, saying these three words whenever you felt like it, communication between the two of you has always been good, though it hasn't always been like this.
There was a time at the beginning of the relationship where Jeno only knew how to show his love through actions, fearing that it may seem too pushy if he constantly speaks up about his emotions, being a guy and all, but your reassurance of loving to hear everything he has to say, as well as those doe eyes of yours that always have a hundred percent focus on him, had given him a sense of comfort, and so he now speaks whatever that comes to mind when he's with you, most often 'I love yous', it could be in the morning when you wake up, or moments like this where there are uncertainties in his head, you’re his rock.
“I love you too, Jeno,” you said it back before pulling away slightly to kiss him, pulling him closer again by looping your hands around his nape, playing with the strands of hair there as you bit on his bottom lip gently before feeling a sudden grip on your hip, a gasp falling from your lips just to give Jeno the opportunity to dominate the kiss, getting you right where he wanted you to be, under his control.
Jeno tasted like the chocolate mint balls he was having just now, a mixture of sweet chocolate and invigorating mint clouding your senses, the taste so addictive that you licked at his tongue just to taste more, but soon Jeno pulled away, noticing that you were running out of breath, your forehead lolled against his, a sign that he was all too familiar with.
“Slow down, baby, what's got you so worked up?” Jeno asked as he peppers kisses down your neck sloppily, he knows he can't mark you without your manager lecturing you, so he'll just have to manoeuvre himself to the valley of your breasts, popping open the buttons of your pajamas to reveal that you've worn a set that had no padding, the tips of your nipples would've been obvious it weren't for how loose your shirt was.
“Remember the last time we fucked in here? You had a writer’s block for stronger and 119, I want to be your muse again, Jen,” you reminded him as you trailed your hand at the hem of his tank, palming his abs that you go crazy over, you must be the luckiest girl ever, to find a guy who’s as hot as he’s talented in his career, not to mention the sinful things he does with those dancer hips.
Jeno chuckled at that fond memory, recalling Jaemin’s horrid expression when he found the two of you in such a state.
“You do know that this is ANL right?” gesturing at the lyrics on the stand.
“Which is a highly suggestive yet quite a fluffy song, we have to set the mood in order for you to actually gain some inspiration, no?” you said before you pulled off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you.
“Greedy aren't you?” Jeno said as he tips your chin higher to get a good look at you in the dim lights, admiring your swollen lips and the lust in your eyes, all because of him.
“Well, you can't pen my name down for these songs, the least you can do is give me a good fuck to remember it by,” you said with those seductive eyes of yours looking into his hooded ones before reaching down his pants, a jolt from his cock at your freezing hands.
“Whatever my baby wants, whatever she gets am I right?” Jeno said before manoeuvring you to your back facing his, letting your ass feel his hard on.
You placed your hands on the stool that Jeno previously sat in, arching your back for him to easily access the situation.
Jeno pulls your sweats and panties down hanging them onto the stand, you purse your lips at the sight, hoping that none of your arousal gets onto the surface, but before you could make up your mind whether to tell Jeno to place your clothing somewhere else, Jeno had spread your folds with two fingers, a hand coming up to swipe at your slit teasingly before pinching your clit lightly in between his thumb and index finger, combing a moan out of you, legs jolting at the sudden pleasure, you were always sensitive there.
“Fuck, baby, I barely touched you and you’re dripping wet, didn't know you were this worked up,” Jeno said by your ear, his voice a few octaves lower.
Jeno enters two fingers in one go, making you buckle your knees at the sudden intrusion, not expecting it so soon, the feeling of his rough finger pads reaching deep into you, searching for that one spot, and when he found it, it felt like the first taste of heaven, a whimper falling from your lips as you held onto the stool harder, preparing for what's to come.
Jeno thrusted his fingers in a moderate pace before sliding in a third, making a scissoring motion to open you up for his large cock.
When he deemed that you were wet enough, Jeno shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, impatient for the warmth in between your legs.
Jeno positioned himself at your entrance, pushing in an inch before slamming himself into you.
“Fuck, Jeno!” you could feel how full you were now, and how he fits perfectly inside you, his tip dangerously close to your sweet spot, you just need him to move.
“Jeno, you can move now, please,” you begged, breathless as your mind is still registering the feeling of this euphoria.
Jeno clenches his jaw in concentration before pulling out of your sweet pussy slightly, before thrusting back in, starting a quick and shallow pace, the way your warm walls were clenching onto him was making him lightheaded from the immense pleasure, but he knows he has to get his shit together if he wants to actually finish up recording tonight.
Jeno grips onto your hips as he builds up his pace, pistoning his dick inside of you hard and fast as he hears your screams of pleasure, the sound echoing in this small booth, encouraging him to go faster as he gets addicted to this sweet melody.
You held onto the stool for your dear life as you felt the knot in your abdomen slowly unwinding, a sign that you’re nearing your edge.
“I'm gonna cum, Jen, cum with me, please,” you said before purposely clenching onto his dick.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last any longer if you keep doing that,” Jeno said in one breath, before focusing back onto chasing both your highs, a hand moving to your breasts to pinch your nipples with the perfect amount of pain, he knows how much of a pain slut you are for him, and that was exactly what pushed you over the edge.
You felt your body convulsing as you orgasmed, the knot snapping free as the screams of Jeno’s name tumble from your lips as you let Jeno continue.
Jeno came only a few sloppy thrusts, after you, biting onto your shoulder as he came, giving a few hard thrusts to ride out both your highs, and just so he could bury his cum inside you, letting both your juices mix.
When both of you were done, Jeno moved your limp body expertly on top of his as he took a seat onto the stool, him still inside of you, your head tucked by his left shoulder, picking up where he had left off just now.
“You're right baby, you really are my muse,” Jeno said before humming a tune, then correcting some errors on the sheet.
“Well, good to know I was helpful, now if you'll excuse me, I need to clean up,” you said before trying to get up.
Jeno's left hand grips onto your hips, restricting you from leaving.
“Stay for a bit, I'm finishing up soon, then I'll clean you up, I'm sure you’re too tired to walk now, get some rest,” Jeno said as he pats your head gently, something he does that oddly lulls you to sleep.
“Okay, just don't overwork yourself,” you said before drifting off to sleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder, your very own human pillow.
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hello lovely!! i’ve been getting back into star wars lately and i’ve been loving your fics!! and i was wondering if i could make a request?? sort of like,, anakin but he doesn’t turn to the dark side type thing?? like he maybe confesses he’s scared to lose you and you help him through it?? maybe obi wan helps out?? honestly you can take it however you want :)) ty ty
anakin skywalker x reader || rewritten
summary || a rots fix it fic where i take many liberties and give anakin a support system + everyone gets better communication and we think about how it would perhaps end differently
warnings || hella canon divergence, angst w/ a happy ending, some violence (non graphic and not super described)
words || 5.1k (i am legit shocked)
a/n || hello and thank you!! i’m so glad you’ve been loving my fics! this fic was honestly super challenging for me and it ended up being the longest thing i’ve ever written. i made some big changes and lots of smaller ones, but each one was fully intentional. i really, really hope y’all like it <3
main masterlist || anakin masterlist
gif credit
-----
Anakin awoke with a start, chest heaving and covered in sweat. He was gripping the blankets as he tried to ground himself, frantically looking around as if to discern between reality and the horrid dreamscape his mind created. He whipped his head to the side, visibly relaxing as he saw you staring up at him, a confused look on your face.
You were no stranger to Anakin’s nightmares but this one seemed unlike any he’d ever had. You slept curled into him and, thus, his jolt caused one of your own. Unsure if he wanted your touch just yet, you reached out to him with the Force. Panic, loss, grief, fear, terror, insecurity. You looked into his eyes, watching as they slowly cleared and he registered your presence. He blinked quickly, trying to clear the tears from his vision and gave you a slight nod.
Reaching a tentative hand to his shoulder, you suppressed a gasp as you felt him shudder beneath you. You quietly whispered his name and placed a finger under his jaw, guiding his face to yours. You nodded back at him and opened your arms in silent invitation. He crawled into your embrace as you pulled him impossibly close to you, situating yourself against the headboard so you could better wrap yourself around his shaking body. Choked sobs erupted from his lips, each one tearing a hole in your heart. As he finally let himself cry with his face buried into your neck, you held him. By the Maker, you held him.
He didn’t want to speak just yet and you understood. You’ve always extended the same respect back to him as he gives to you. Tucked into you, Anakin’s fingers squeezed into your flesh, as if trying to remind himself you were solid. You placed a few kisses into his soft hair and onto his forehead, hands running up and down his arms and back. You physically pressed reminders of your love into his skin for hours and, somewhere in the midst of your embrace, he let himself fall into a state of limbo. Unawake, unasleep, umoving, yet feeling everything you had to offer.
----
When morning came, you reached out once again. The emotions from last night were still evident, just not as strong. Simultaneously, you allowed a small smile to come to you as you felt something new. Warmth, comfort, love. You ran your fingers through Anakin’s hair to pull him to consciousness, needing to see his eyes. Stars, his eyes. While they were absolutely gorgeous, they also always gave him away. You once told him that. “Only for you, my love.” He’d replied.
“Hi.” He croaked out, meeting your gaze. Your eyes fluttered closed for a second as you took a deep breath in relief. His eyes were clear. You didn’t know how long the shadows would be banished for, but as long as they weren’t constant, you had hope.
“Hi, baby.” You whispered, allowing yourself to give him another forehead kiss, made easy by your position that you’d somehow remained in throughout the night. You looked at him expectantly and knew he knew what you were asking.
“You… you died,” Anakin started. His eyes were already filling with tears. “It wasn’t clear. There was so much blood. And you kept begging me to help you. You screamed and screamed and screamed and you were in agony and…”
You took his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers in encouragement to go on.
“I never- I never came for you.” He spit the words out as if they were venomous and shook his head. You could hear the self-hatred in his words, the way he couldn’t grasp the concept of hurting you, ever, and yet how seriously he took this.
“Hey, hey. Stop, my love.” You said, hoping to pull him out of his spiral. “You would never harm me, Anakin. You would come for me, you always have. That was a horrible dream and I’m so sorry you had to experience it. But it was just a dream, Anakin. It’s not real.”
He pulled away from you as if he couldn’t stand to feel your gentle touch. “No, no, no! It-” His words were cut off by his uneven breathing, his pulse racing as he relived the nightmare. “It felt like the ones I had about my mother. It felt… prophetic. I’m scared, Y/N, I can’t lose you.”
You walked over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks and rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, hoping to calm him. “You won’t. It takes a lot to kill me, you know? Especially when I have you by my side.”
Anakin nodded but you could tell he was unconvinced.
“How about you talk to Obi-Wan about the dreams? He’s always helped you before.” You suggested.
While normally this would be unthinkable, as it would expose your relationship, Anakin felt himself pulled toward the choice. Inwardly, he admitted that he could definitely use a friend right now. And Obi-Wan had always stood by him. Somehow, he just knew that now would be no different.
------
Obi-Wan easily swung the door open with the Force before Anakin even had a chance to knock. He knew his former Padawan’s force signature like the back of his hand and had sensed his distress for days. Unbeknownst to Anakin, Obi-Wan had canceled his missions due to this, wanting to stay close for when Anakin eventually came to him for guidance.
Obi-Wan looked up from his paperwork as he realized Anakin refused to come closer. Huddled behind the door frame, a conflicted and fearful look on his face, Obi-Wan was struck by how similar Anakin looked to the little boy he’d found on Tatooine all those years ago. Many nights, young Anakin would come into Obi-Wan’s room, plagued with nightmares. Just as before, Obi-Wan never turned him away.
“Something’s troubling you.”
Anakin sighed, taking a tentative step forward. “You know Master L/N?”
Obi-Wan smiled knowingly, having a sense of where this is going. “Yes, of course. A brilliant strategist, much like yourself.”
“I…. I’m involved with them, Master.”
“Involved?” Obi-Wan replied, with a quirked eyebrow.
“Please don’t punish Y/N for this, I know the Council frowns upon relationships. If you need to report it, I understand. But just report me, say they had nothing to do with it. But before you do anything please, Master, listen to what I must tell you. I wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary.” Anakin pleaded.
“Anakin, I know.”
“Yeah, I mean it truly is necessary-”
Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on the younger Jedi’s shoulder. “You misunderstand. I mean, I know.”
Anakin’s eyes widened with realization before confusion filtered into his gaze. “But we were so careful!”
“Not as much as you would think,” Obi-Wan said with a slight laugh.
“And you’re not upset?”
He sighed. “Being honest, I was a bit at first. Anakin, you know the rules and you can be so reckless at times! But how could I fault you for your own humanity? And I knew who you were when I met you. I was always aware of your compassion, your capacity for emotions.” Anakin nodded and smiled, but the faraway look in his eye never wavered.
Clearing his voice, Obi-Wan continued. “Are you alright, Anakin?”
“No.” The strength of the word shocked them both and caused Anakin to take a moment to compose himself. “They’re dying.”
Panic flashed through Obi-Wan’s expression. “They’re what? What happened? Was it a mission? Do the medics know? Is-”
“- No, nothing… nothing yet. But it will.” While Obi-Wan didn’t exactly understand, he could tell through Anakin’s tone that his former Padawan believed this with his entire soul.
“I’ve been having more nightmares.” Anakin said.
“Like the ones with your mother?”
Anakin nodded, his gaze muddled as his mind wove through every possibility on how to save you. Coming up with none, he looked up quickly, the lost confusion clear.
“It’s going to be alright, Anakin. We’re going to do this together.” Obi-Wan offered, trying to comfort his friend. When Anakin nodded this time, his expression had more hope in it. Obi-Wan returned the gesture, tipping his head as Anakin walked out. Before Anakin reached the door, Obi-Wan called his name.
“Talk to me if you feel troubled. About anything, my friend. And just know… it’s okay to feel afraid. And you’re no less a Jedi because you love them. At least, not in my eyes.” For the first time since he’d walked in the room, Anakin gave a true smile. His former Master inhaled deeply, realizing after hearing those words, Anakin looked more like himself than he had in a long while.
-----
A few hours and a Council meeting later, Anakin walked back into your chambers, closing the door with a huff. He wasn’t enraged, per se, but definitely conflicted. You approached him cautiously, heart falling when you saw those familiar clouds back in his eyes.
“Did Obi-Wan not take it well?”
Anakin shook his head. “It’s not… he was supportive. But the Council has assigned something to me and…” He trailed off and looked at you. Only then did you see his bloodshot, puffy eyes.
“What did they ask of you, Anakin?” You questioned, coming behind him to gently massage his tense shoulders.
“I’m needed to spy on the Chancellor. Apparently there’s a Sith Lord somewhere in the Order. They suspect him.” He tried to keep his voice strong, but you could see how torn apart he was by the inflection in his tone.
You took a breath and tried to process the information. “Will you do it?”
“I don’t know… if the Council tells me I must, then I must. But the Chancellor has only been good to me. I worry about betraying him but I don’t want to let down the Order. I’m not sure how to do this without causing someone harm.” He confessed.
“They shouldn’t have put you in this position, it’s unfair. And you don’t have to, Ani. I know it feels like you do but you don’t need to bend to each of the Council’s requests. Whatever the fallout, whatever you choose, please know that I’m with you. And so is Obi-Wan. Not that it fixes anything, but at the very least, you’ll always have us.”
Anakin turned around so he was facing you. “I don’t know what to do.” He whispered, voice laced with hopelessness.
“Trust yourself. You have a good heart, intelligence, and strong morals. They’ve never failed you before.”
He nodded before leaning into you and your arms instinctively wrapped around him. Your fingertips found their way to his hair, gently weaving through the golden strands.
“We’ll get through this, yeah?” While it was a question, you both knew you meant it as a statement.
“We’ll get through this.” Anakin echoed. He mumbled the words into your neck where he had buried his face. As if the words could seep into your skin. As if the hope could find its way to your heart and stay there, ever protected, ever true.
-----
The next day, Anakin found himself in Palpatine’s office. He was wary, guarded. It was evident by the look on his eyes, the way he took a moment before taking another step. It was his training as both a Jedi and a General that allowed him to do this. The careful complexity of planning every move.
“I heard the Council debating whether or not they should have made you a Master. It seems they do not trust you or value your talent as they should.” Palpatine’s words made Anakin freeze. Rationally, he knew this was wrong. At the very least, Obi-Wan trusts him and so do you. But there was a part of him that felt so validated by the Chancellor’s words that he wanted to hear more. To bask in them, in feeling wanted and appreciated. He hated himself for it.
“I… I’m not sure what you mean by this.” Anakin attempted not to give himself away any more than he already has.
“Well, they care about your potential. But they hold you back. They’ll never show you your true power, for they don’t want you to understand. They just wish to use it, no matter your own fate.”
“I feel cast aside. Like I don’t matter.” Anakin wasn’t even sure why he shared these words. Somehow, in feeling so praised, the doubts just bubbled their way to the surface. He felt like a child in these moments, so painfully fragile.
“You don’t. Not to them, Anakin. But with me I can teach you your power. I can teach you the ways of the Dark Side. I know of your fears, of those nightmares that plague you. I know about your secret marriage and how close you are to losing it all.”
Anakin froze, his heart hammering in his chest. His thoughts raced as he tried to piece together the truth from all the lies. The mentions of Darth Plagueis. The Dark Side of the Force.
“You’re the Sith Lord!” Anakin said, igniting his lightsaber and pointing it at the older man’s chest.
Palpatine bowed his head slightly, a small smile gracing his lips. “Well done, my boy.” Anakin felt sick as he noted the pride in his tone. And yet that aching part inside him still swelled, ever so slightly.
“Now, don’t do anything rash.” The Chancellor reasoned. “Only the Dark Side can save the one you love.”
Anakin wanted to do the right thing. He wished to be the one who could stand up and arrest Palpatine without a single ounce of guilt or regret. But as soon as Palpatine mentioned you, it’s like all his logic disappeared. He just wanted to save you, to not fail you as he’d failed his mother. But then he thought back to your words. “Strong morals.” And to his Master’s. “We’ll do this together.”
“I’m turning you into the Council.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to kill me?”
“Yes.” Anakin’s remark was forceful and clipped with anger.
“Then do it. Give yourself over to your wrath.”
He felt himself burning with betrayal, with resentment toward both sides. Even so, he could still tell right from wrong, selfless from selfish. And whatever Palpatine was doing… it certainly did not have the will of the people in mind. Without so much as deigning him with another response, Anakin turned and walked out of the room.
“If you turn me in, you’ll never save them!” Anakin tried to will Palpatine’s voice out of his head as he ventured back to the Council chambers. When he arrived back, he decided to slightly alter his plans. While he knew he must face all of them eventually, he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan first. Perhaps his Master could give him guidance, like he did about your nightmares.
“General Skywalker… are you alright?” Anakin stumbled as he walked right into another figure, too caught up in his own head.
“I’m fine, Master Windu. Thank you- I’m sorry.” Mace looked at the younger Jedi with an unreadable expression. While there was much in his eyes, concern was definitely a part of it.
“Have you seen Master Kenobi?” Anakin said after a brief pause for composure.
“He’s supposed to leave for his next mission any moment now. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him.”
Anakin thanked Master Windu before taking off in a run. No matter how fast his legs carried him, he felt his mind was working even faster, the internal conflict brewing more intently by the second.
-----
Obi-Wan opened the door as soon as before Anakin could even knock. He looked at Anakin and gestured at a vacant chair, a silent invitation to sit. Anakin shook his head quickly. The younger Jedi’s eyes were scattered and conflicted, as if he’d been shaken to his very core.
“Palpatine is the Sith Lord.” The words came out rushed, yet clear. As if Anakin needed to get them out as quickly as he could but replayed them in his head until they were all he knew. The intensity showed Obi-Wan that there was no doubt in his friend’s mind.
Obi-Wan blinked. “Okay.” He stroked his beard, trying to find the words to say. “Are you alright?”
Anakin looked at Obi-Wan in confusion. Certainly there were more important questions his former Master would want to ask than that.
“I know you and the Chancellor were close. This can’t be easy for you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright.”
“I’m not sure.” Anakin said after some hesitation. “I don’t really know what to think… Palpatine is evil, right? But he believed in me when no one else did. He saw my potential, allowed me to confide in him. He told me he could show me how to save Y/N. Would someone evil do that?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes softened as he looked at the painfully conflicted young man in front of him. “Anakin… he was manipulating you. He was isolating you so you had no one to turn to but him. It was a tactic, a ploy. He doesn’t care for you.” Anakin looked so heartbroken that Obi-Wan knew Anakin believed him. “I’m so sorry.”
“But what about Y/N?” Anakin asked desperately.
Obi-Wan sighed. “Loving someone in the Order isn’t easy. Especially after everything you’ve gone through. And losing someone… it changes the way you love. You fear constantly, wondering when your love will evade you. When it will fall apart, like all the rest. But living like that, loving like that… it leaves no room for growth or peace. And that’s what relationships are for, aren’t they?” His voice was filled with compassion and wisdom. From experience, perhaps? Regardless of the reason, Anakin was reminded that someone did understand him. Despite the circumstances, he felt content. At least a bit.
“Is there any way to save them?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s focus on Palpatine for now, alright? And we’ll bring Master L/N with us so you know they’re safe.” Obi-Wan wished nothing more than having a set solution to save Y/N. But some things were even out of his grasp. “I know this must be impossible for you, Anakin. I truly am sorry.”
Anakin nodded. After all, it was true. If there was anything to describe the impending threat of losing another person he loved, impossible summed up the process. “I know. You’re doing all you can. Thank you, Master. And yes, I would like to bring them with us.”
Obi-Wan clasped a hand to Anakin’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they met each other with a smile. “I’ll send them a message right now.”
----
You gasped when you received Obi-Wan’s message with the details of the Supreme Chancellor’s truth. Your heart cried for Anakin, knowing the betrayal must be breaking him. All you could do was wish that with Obi-Wan’s help, the two of you could support Anakin until he felt like he could breathe again. And you had faith in him. You always had faith in him.
Grabbing your cloak, you jogged to Obi-Wan’s quarters. As soon as you opened the door, you ran to Anakin and hugged him to you, needing to feel his presence. Somehow, you knew he needed it, too.
“Ready?” Anakin and Obi-Wan gave you nods of confirmation and you gave a tentative smile. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
-----
Anakin entered Palpatine’s chambers first. For once, he felt sure of himself. He finally knew what he had to do. His gaze shifted to you, making sure you were alright. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb up and down to reassure him. He inhaled. Exhaled. And ignited his saber.
“I knew you’d come back, Skywalker. I knew you’d join me.”
“Think again.” Obi-Wan responded as you and him walked into the chambers. Pure, unfiltered rage flickered through Palpatine’s eyes in response.
“Anakin, they’re trying to corrupt you. They’re trying to keep your power. Come with me, boy, and I’ll teach you all you wish to know. I’ll teach you how to save them.” He said, pointing a pale finger toward your face.
You let out a sharp breath as you suddenly understood Anakin’s conflict. Of course Palpatine was using you as a bargaining chip. Using Anakin’s fear of abandonment, of losing his loved ones against him. It was disgusting, even for a Sith.
“I… you can’t possibly know how to do that. It’s impossible!”
“Not on the Dark Side. Look… Obi-Wan has turned them against you. He’s the cause of this! I’m sure he didn’t even pose a solution to saving Y/N. It’s because he doesn’t care about you, not like I do.”
The shadows returned to Anakin’s eyes as his gaze switched between Obi-Wan and Palpatine. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at you, to see the pain in your eyes as he struggled with a choice that for others would be so simple. He hated himself for being weak but he truly couldn’t fathom losing you.
Obi-Wan stepped forward, backing Palpatine against the wall and pointing his lightsaber at Palpatine’s throat. Anakin stepped back, too frozen to move, and unconsciously placed himself between them and you.
“It’s over, Chancellor. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” Obi-Wan said.
Palpatine shot lightning from his hands, causing Obi-Wan to deflect the matter with his lightsaber, redirecting it to Palpatine himself. As Palpatine shook from the force of his own blast, he once again called to Anakin.
“If you let him kill me, dear boy, Y/N will die. If you don’t try to save them, you will be the cause of their death.”
Anakin’s eyes widened, those words hitting him right in the chest. He moved forward, pointing his lightsaber at Obi-Wan but refusing to make the final cut to end his life. Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to speak but the effort of holding of Palpatine’s lightning rendered him useless. It was Obi-Wan, after all. His former Master, his friend. The one person who he trusted with the secret of his marriage. He couldn’t kill him, right? He faltered, stepping slightly back.
“Ani,” You said, your voice calm as you tried to reason with him. “Ani if you do this, you can’t come back from it. I know you don’t want to lose me and if you kill Obi-Wan, you will, regardless of the fate of my life. You aren’t too far gone, yet. You haven’t done anything irredeemable. Remember who you are, my love.”
Anakin heard your words and looked at your face. You. He wanted to do good by you, to do good by all of them. He wanted to make his mother proud, make himself feel like leaving her for the Jedi Order meant something. And then his gaze filtered over to his friend. Obi-Wan stood tall against the force of Palpatine’s lightning, reminding Anakin of his friend’s strength. It was something Anakin wanted to emulate, too.
Understanding his choice, Anakin took a step forward to position the blade toward Palpatine’s chest. His hand was shaking, movements unsure, eyes glossed over with immeasurable pain. But before he could make contact, you swiftly moved in front of him and killed Palpatine instead. Obi-Wan was thrust backward as the lightning ceased, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
“Why would you do that?” Anakin asked as he looked at you.
“I didn’t want you to have to kill your friend. No matter what he turned out to be.” You said as you shifted on the balls of your feet. The weight of Palpatine’s death now weighed on your soul, as do those of every life you’ve ever ended. You could bear it and you knew Anakin was strong enough to do so, as well. You just didn’t want him to have to.
Anakin nodded and whispered a thank you back to you. You just smiled, the love for him clear in your expression. Anakin turned around, walking to his friend and extending a hand for him.
“I never doubted you.” Obi-Wan said simply as he met Anakin’s guilty eyes.
“I should have made the choice to believe you earlier. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I’m sorry, Master.”
“Look at me, Anakin. We all struggle with our morals. We struggle and we’re unsure and we pray and hope to land on the right decision. And you did. You have nothing to apologize for.” Looking at your and Anakin’s arms around each other, Obi-Wan made one last decision. “How about the two of you retire for the evening? I’ll debrief with the Council, you’ve been through enough.”
Once again, Anakin was struck by the older Jedi’s strength and selflessness. He nodded, as did you, before he accompanied you back to your quarters.
----
You kept one arm around Anakin’s waist the entire way home, mirroring his that was around your shoulders. You couldn’t bear to separate, not after the events of the past few days. Seeing Anakin so torn up inside, it was eating away at you. Knowing you couldn’t save him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to deal with.
Now, Palpatine was finally gone. There was no more threat to the Jedi Order, the Force once again balanced. But both of you still understood the one solution that hadn't been found: how to save you. It made everything easier, that you chose to kill the Chancellor. Anakin refused to voice the doubts in his head, wondering if he actually would have gone through with it knowing he would lose his chance at saving you.
The air was melancholic surrounding you both. Heavy. Neither of you knew what to say, words failing in a moment that was so conflicted it almost overwhelmed you. But your heart warmed as you saw Anakin scamper in front of you to open and hold the door for you. You loved him so much, for doing the little things even in moments like these. It gave you hope.
You were okay with death, so long as it only affected you. When you joined the Jedi, you had to make your peace with it. But after you fell in love everything changed. You didn’t want Anakin to go through the pain of losing you. He’d been so open with you about, well, everything. Especially his past. He’d gone through so much, felt such raw pain and loss, you didn’t want to add to that.
Taking his hands in yours, you looked into his blue eyes.
“I don’t want you to die.” He whispered, the desperate, deflated tone making your heart break. “I won’t.” You wished to say, but you knew you couldn’t.
“I don’t want to die, either.” You chose these words instead, relying on their honesty.
“Palpatine could have saved you.” Anakin said after a beat.
You sighed. “You don’t know that.” You stated, knowing it wouldn’t change how he felt.
“Neither do you!”
“But at what cost? At the cost of losing your soul? Anakin, you would have had to join the Sith! That’s no longer you! You’re good and you couldn’t have saved me if you were there, don’t you see that?” You pleaded. You wished he would see your logic, the truth behind your words. How even though he thought otherwise, he made the right decision.
“What good is saving the Order if you won’t be a part of it?”
“What good is saving my life if I wouldn’t have you to live it with?” You countered.
Anakin let out an exhausted breath before pulling you into him, hugging you. The fighting was too much and, frankly, he didn’t want to argue. Not with you, not ever. You both let out a humorless chuckle as you leaned into each other.
“I love you.” His tone conveyed it all.
“I love you.” You replied, your voice muffled from being pressed into his robes.
“Can we sleep? I don’t want to face this right now. Can we just put this aside, if just for a moment? Can I lay with you and can you hold me and can we just have each other?” You questioned breathlessly.
“I would like nothing more, my love.” He smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to your head as he added the words of endearment, wanting you to understand he wasn’t upset with you. You already knew that, though. You were in love with Anakin Skywalker. Of course you’d argue from time to time. But at the end of the day, you were two hopelessly in love Jedi just trying to save each other.
Crawling into bed, sleep came for the both of you quickly. You were holding him and he was holding you, tangled together as you nestled his warm embrace. He tucked his face into your neck as you did so and savored the feel of you next to him. Safe.
Drifting off, Anakin tried to fight the pull of sleep, knowing he’d just suffer from another nightmare like he had every day since the first one. One where you’d die and he could do nothing to stop it. Amidst these tumultuous thoughts, his breathing evened, lulling him under.
You were in the grass, a flower crown atop your head. Anakin was leaning against a small house. It was quaint but beautiful. Small, not outwardly flashy, but full of love and meaning. Looking around, he smiled as he saw green vines crawling up the sides of the house, a garden of your favorite flowers out front. You always had a soft spot for that.
We are on Naboo, he realized. It was peaceful. It was the dream you always talked of together. Anakin’s breath caught as he felt the certainty of this dream. It felt just like his nightmares, except this one left him content. He didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long, afraid of jinxing it. But he knew it was prophetic. He wasn’t sure how he changed his fate, what exactly gave him this future. Something inside him just knew that when he wakes up the next morning, all will be okay. He felt infinitely lighter as he understood the threat was gone.
When you looked up and saw him, you raced toward him and jumped into his arms. Anakin stumbled but caught you, breathing in your scent as you kissed the side of his neck. As he held you, his thoughts slightly wandered. But he was grounded by your presence, reminding him that you were safe and he was okay. With you, he was finally, completely, home.
-----
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A lonely spot for two
Pairing: Zeke Yeager x Female!reader
Genres: Smut
Warnings: Sexual content including; vaginal sex, oral, creampie, semi-public sex. Zeke acting kinda sleazy.
Summary: As the daughter of a Marleyan general, seeing Zeke could mean the death of you both. But even as hidingspots are growing slim, he isn’t willing to stop your little affair.
Shudders from both the cold and your nerves run over your body as you skitter over the barely lid streets of the Eldian zone. The band that gives you a fake Eldian identity around your arm keeps slipping, having been intended for a man far larger than you. You wish all this sneaking around could stop, but you know that could never happen.
The fact that you kept seeing Zeke was incredibly stupid. Eldians and Marleyans did not mix, so if anyone found out about your secret rendezvous with him you would both suffer horrid fates. Both of you knew the danger full well, but it stopped neither of you of seeking each other out.
What had begun with stolen glances while you dropped things off for your father at meetings, now had you shadely meeting up with Zeke in a secluded alleyway.
“Zeke?” You whisper.
This is the spot where he told you to meet him, you are certain of it, but the darkness is so thick you can’t spot him in the long alley.
“Over here.”
You sigh in relief when you hear his voice and make your way towards it.
Zeke’s leaning against one of the brick walls, puffing away at his cigarette. When you’re close he gives you a lopsided smile.
“I would offer you one, but I doubt you’re willing to commit two sins tonight.”
You purse your lips. Ah, it’s one of those nights. “Hello to you too, Zeke.”
You give him a look as he continues standing against the wall with his cigarette. “Did you find a spot?”
He throws his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with the bottom of his boot. “Yeah, you’re standing in it.”
Surprise washes over your face and you look around in horror. He can’t be serious, a dirty alleyway?
“What’s wrong? Too lowly for a Marleyan?” He asks, provoking you on purpose.
“You know that’s not it.” You’re jaw tightens. Damn him for making you feel bad right now.
Zeke chuckles and saunters of to you. “I’m just teasing.” He puts a finger below your chin, raising it up. “Not being able to see you these past days has been exhausting. Have you not missed me?”
You sigh. You can’t stay mad at him right now. “I have, a lot.”
He gives you a smile. “Then this is okay, isn’t it? Just for once.”
You nod slowly in agreement and he pushes you with your back against the wall. His lips brush over yours as he continues holding your chin, and you feel your body come alive at the slight intimacy.
A noise makes you snap your head to the right, eyes wide. Luckily there’s nobody there, a piece of cardboard merely bumping into things as it’s carried by the wind.
“What if somebody sees us?” You question worriedly.
Zeke shrugs. “Should be fine, they’d probably just think you’re a prostitute.”
Displeasure is clear on your face at his comment.
Before you can protest, he presses his lips fully to yours. He gives you a sloppy kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and his lips moving wildly against yours. You grab onto his jacket and get pulled in regardless of your displeasure.
Not having been able to touch Zeke for almost a week had made your anticipation for tonight worse than usual. It had been hard to keep your mind in control during the day and stop it from drifting to him fucking your brains out.
He pulls away from the kiss and his cock twitches in his pants at the look of want on your face. “Seems like you don’t mind. Tell me, is it because you’re my little whore?”
You feel heat rise to your cheeks.
Zeke’s hand drifts from your chin to your neck, running his fingers over the length of it. “Come on, say it.”
You swallow down the embarrassment. It’s not that you don’t enjoy it, but you’re still not used to talking dirty like this. “I-I’m your little whore.”
He gives you a satisfied smile. “Good girl.”
You feel proud of yourself for pleasing him.
“Now, get on your knees.” He tells you with a predatory grin.
Doubt makes you glance around the alleyway. Gods, you’re really doing this here aren’t you.
With a last glance for reassurance at Zeke, you drop to your knees. The cobble street feels harsh against your knees, even through your skirt.
He hurriedly unbuttons his pants, pushing it down with his underwear just far enough so his cock is freed. A groan leaves his lips when he rubs the head against your lips. “Look at you...”
You obediently wrap your lips around his cock after he gives them a tap with it.
“You’re a real sight.” Zeke tells you and tangles his hand in your hair.
You suck on his cock, twirling your tongue around the head while doing so. You feel ashamed at how much you missed the taste of him.
The hand in your hair is joined by a second, and as he takes the back of your head in his hands you know what’s coming.
Zeke pants heavily as he pushes your head forward, forcing you to take his cock down your throat. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes and you silently curse him for being so big.
He chuckles as he feels you struggle to take him that deep. To get him back, you wiggle your tongue as much as possible against the underside of his cock, making a groan interrupt his chuckling.
You brace your hands against his hips to keep some control as he starts moving your mouth up and down his cock harshly. You feel his muscles clench under your hands multiple times, telling you that’s he’s trying to keep himself from cumming.
Without warning, Zeke pulls your mouth off of his cock with a pop. You gasp and take in air, wiping the saliva off of your mouth.
“I’m not wasting my cum in your mouth.”
You shoot him a look. Bastard.
Lust and impatience are clear on his face as he drags you back up by your arm. He spins you around, resting your front against the wall.
“Zeke!” You yelp in surprise as he flips up your skirt and pushes aside your panties.
“You’re soaked.” He notes as he runs his fingers through your wetness.
You shiver as his mouth comes right next to your ear. “Does sucking me off get you that much?”
“Please.” You whimper and put your hands against the cold wall.
“Please what?” He ask and you can hear the grin in his voice.
You bite your lip as his fingers play with your cunt, teasingly dancing over your entrance.
“I want you.” You tell him desperately.
His fingers poke at your entrance more intendly. “You want my fingers or something bigger?”
Gods, if you weren’t so turned on you would slap his glasses off of his face. “B-bigger.”
Zeke laughs contently at your answer. His fingers leave you and he instead grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt, coating his length in your slick.
You bite your lip to muffle your moan when he pushes himself into you, sheathing his full length inside you in one go.
“You take me so well.” He praises you from behind, his hands finding your hips.
When he pulls out and thrusts back in with a wet clap against your ass, you feel truly dirty. Zeke doesn’t seem to care as he starts fucking you from behind without hesitation.
Your own reservations are quickly forgotten at the feeling of him stretching and filling your cunt. Those few days without it had been so dire that you’re worried you might be addicted.
His name leaves your mouth a bit too loud when he kisses the back of your neck.
“Ssshh, you don’t want someone to hear, do you?” He whispers against your neck.
You shake your head. “N-no! It just feels- ah- so good.”
One of his hands leaves your hips, instead coming up to cover your mouth. You pant heavily against his hand as he continues slamming his cock into you.
Wetness drips down your legs and you feel them shaking lightly after Zeke keeps on fucking you fast and hard for minutes. You’re getting close, and you bite down in his hand in preparation.
Instead of saying anything, he bends his knees slightly and snaps his hips against your ass in this adjusted angle. Your scream is silenced by his hand as you cum violently on his cock.
Your legs start feeling weak as the waves of your orgasm course through your body. Zeke’s grip on you is firm, and for the first time tonight you’re grateful for the sturdy wall in front of you.
His pants and groans start sounding more choked as he starts approaching his own orgasm. His hand leaves your mouth and he pulls your face to the side to kiss you.
You eagerly moan into his mouth as his hand rejoins the other on your hips. With his full strength available again, he holds you tightly as he slams into you hard.
His pace is erratic, only spurt on further by your squeezing walls. You make out with him feverishly as he rams his cock into you over and over. You’ve already cum and he still has you this desperate.
Zeke’s tongue leaves your mouth and he bites your bottomlip as he cums inside you. You choke back your mewls as both the sting at your lip and the sensation of feeling his hot seed filling you make your walls squeeze even tighter around him.
He gives a few more lazy thrusts as he continues cumming, his breathing just as ragged as yours.
“I need to see you again tomorrow.” He tells you after he’s finished cumming.
Your throat feels dry when you speak. “A-alright.”
Zeke pulls out of you and tugs himself back in his pants, adjusting his clothes.
You squeal when he slaps your ass before adjusting your panties and skirt.
“Come on now, this is below your rank.” He teases you as your skirt drops down to cover the mess he made.
You give him a weak smile after you’ve turned around. “Seems like you enjoy putting me there.”
He grins and pulls you close by your waist. “Oh I’m more than enjoying tainting the poor general’s daughter.”
You roll your eyes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yeah yeah, how about you taint my ears with some government secrets then? I want to know how your days have been.”
Zeke frees you from his arms and plucks a cigarette from his pocket. His face lights up when he flicks on his lighter, betraying the slight flush on his face. “I would love to.”
Tag: @pandorasbox126 🥰
#zeke x reader#zeke yeager#smut#aot#Zeke smut#fanfic#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk#lemon#zeke jaeger#Zeke x reader smut#aot smut#snk smut#x reader#Zeke
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if you have time, can you talk more about vampire!sirius? no pressure!
my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand
pairing: vampire!sirius x gn!reader
notes: wrote this instead of my english essay. i also gave it a title since it felt weird not to give it one. not proof read
Sirius had been alone for centuries, jumping from person to person to fill the empty ache that quickly settled deep in his heart. Those he had grown to love and care for would deteriorate and perish before his eyes. And now that he's found someone he truly wanted, craved and searched for, the last thing he wanted was to let you go.
He's practiced and developed a new sense of control over himself - over the beast that craved and clawed for human blood. But even now, as his hand rest on your waist, snuggled into his chest, he can't help but be overwhelmed by the scent of your blood. It calls to him. Taunts him. Tests him every day.
It's dangerous. And he's never had a great deal of self-control.
As you both lay in bed, a deep flurry of emotions stirred inside him that began to grow at the thought of losing you. It had already been years since you found out about his affliction, that he had fed off of you. But with every year, you got older and he stayed the same. Time was nothing more than a countdown to your death.
A shaky sigh left him, his hand running up and down your arm. Sirius had memorized every inch of you; every stretch mark, every dip, every crinkle and line on your face. He could have been blind and still be able to find you in a crowd. He immortalized it - you wrapped around his stone mind like ivy - carved you into his memory forever.
But not even forever seemed like enough time to have you by his side. And being mortal, you didn't have forever.
Gripping you tighter, Sirius hummed deeply, catching your attention.
"Sirius?" You asked, peering up from his chest.
Sirius couldn't even force on a smile, the onslaught of those horrid tears prickling at his eyes at the thought of your death. His tight became a little too secure for comfort, in fear of you slipping away.
His hand hooked underneath your chin, tilting your head back as he pressed his forehead against yours. His usual eyes sparkling with sunspots was replaced with agony.
His lips parted and you could see his pointed teeth, shimmering in the low lighting. He kissed your collarbone, wintry and frozen, a muffled whisper against your skin. "Don't leave me, stay."
Cold, long fingers like spider legs wrapped around your throat, desperation in his voice. "Stay with me, please."
#this is one of the first times that I wrote *seriously* in 2nd person and I'm not sure how to feel about it#vampire!sirius#Sirius black x reader#Sirius black#Sirius black x you#Sirius black angst#sirius black fanfiction
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