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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 days ago

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twenty Two: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER, ANIMAL CRUELTY, ANIMAL DEATH

Info: ✨breaking and entering✨ boy things ✨[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread, MDNI 18+

The office you sat in looked more like a living room out of a catalog than a workplace. The couch beneath you was comfy and large enough for you and Anakin both to sit, with plenty of room left over. Although he wouldn’t allow it, always insisting you stay tucked against his side. Not that you minded very much.

“Woods Edge,” Amy, the realtor that Luke had gotten ahold of for you repeated after Anakin. “That’s a higher price range than what we discussed over the phone this morning.”

”I know… I was doing a little independent looking.” He said with a friendly smile, tossing his arm over your shoulder. “I saw some pictures of the area online and I just really liked the view, seemed like a nice place.”

”It *is* a nice place, that’s why the price tag has a few added zeros.” Amy gave a lighthearted laugh.

“We really just wanted to take a look, a few different subdivisions, homes a bit farther out from the city. We aren’t totally set on anything. Just looking for ideas.” You piped up, reaching your hand across your body to take Anakin’s hand in yours, squeezing it hard to let him know you were taking over the conversation.

“The sooner we can get a look at-“ Anakin started, completely ignoring the rough squeeze of your hand, to him it just felt like the grip of scared child.

”I think we should go look at the little single level, two bedroom place. The second one you showed us.” You cut in, leaning forward and patting the back of Anakin’s hand as if to say ‘too bad’.

”Sure, its vacant at the moment.” Amy said, turning back to her computer to look up the address and specs, filling you in on what little detail there was in the listing. “There aren’t any showings scheduled and I have my afternoon blocked off for the two of you, so…”

After coming up with a tentative itinerary for the next few hours, you walked out of the building feeling excited to house hunt. There were many things you were looking forward to, seeing the different options was your main goal of course. Though it didn’t hurt to have a few other curiosities as well. It was going to be so entertaining for someone as easily distracted as you.

Thinking of all the random bits and bobbles hiding out in these strangers homes for you to judge and/or admire, was almost more exciting than the prospect of finding your new family home.

”We have twenty minutes before we’re supposed to meet her at the-“ The air blew out of your lungs from the force of Anakin’s forearm against your chest, pressing your back against the cold metal exterior of your vehicle.

“What the hell was that in there?” He asked angrily, yanking open the back passenger door to shove you inside. “You can’t just interrupt me like that.”

“I told you I wanted some real input on our decisions!” You snapped back, landing on the backseat cushions with a bounce that send you further back into the car.

“And I told you to let me handle this meeting!” He barked, climbing in after you and slamming the car door behind him. “You… you ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You scoffed, pushing against his shoulders, hands on either side of his neck as he started to encompass your personal space.

“Remember when I told you to stop asking fucking questions and shut your goddamnn mouth?” He snarled, grabbing your face and jostling your roughly. Anger blazed in his eyes, the pupils usually so dilated just from being in your presence, were no bigger than the tip of a pin.

“This is one of those times you shut the fuck up and listen to me!” He yelled, shoving your head back until you heard a resounding *thunk*. The back of your skull hitting the ledge of the car door behind you.

“Ow!” You shrieked, cupping the back of your head as Anakin quickly released you and sat back on his haunches, blinking down at you like he had no idea what had just happened.

“What’s your problem?” You sniffled, sitting up and squeezing your eyes shut, breathing through your teeth as you rubbed the back of your head with the heel of your palm.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He said quietly, not sounding like himself in the slightest. “‘C’mere. Let me look at it.”

You glared at him, giving him a long, uninterrupted stare-down before finally agreeing to let him check the tender, warm to the touch pump-knot forming. His fingers parted your hair, gently brushing through it before he separated the strands into two sections. Placing one over your right shoulder, while holding the other, smaller section loosely as he kissed the nape of your neck: a silent apology.

“It looks okay,” He said, feeling small and shitty about the way he’d acted. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“What did I ruin?” You asked, lowering your head, thankful he couldn’t see your face.

“Let’s just forget about that.” He sighed, pulling you toward him, arms around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.

“It’s silly anyway, certainly not worth hurting you over.” He said softly, his breath warm against your neck as he nuzzled into you.

“Are you going to get in trouble because I’ve gotten in your way?” Your throat constricted at the thought. What an awful girlfriend. You’re going to be the reason Anakin goes to prison. All because you just had to question him.

He was quiet for a long moment, almost like he was waiting for you to speak again, maybe outright confront him. Or perhaps he was just too shocked to respond in a timely manner.

“No.” He shook his head, kissing the nape of your neck once more before awkwardly shifting his long limbs to crawl over the car console into the driver’s seat, gesturing for you to do the same.

“Actually, I think-“ He sighed, scratching his neck, turning his head away to avoid looking at you now that you were in the front beside him, buckling up in a heavy silence.

“It’s probably for the best.” He cleared his throat, starting the car and backing out of the parking space to head to the home you were scheduled to look at first.

“So it’s… a thing… at Woods Edge?” You asked, looking out the passenger windows as the buildings blurred past.

“Sweetheart.” He sighed, hesitantly laying his hand on your thigh. His calloused hand warm enough to transfer its heat through the denim of your jeans. “I don’t want you to worry. Everything is fine. There is no ‘thing’ at Woods Edge.”

”But there will be?” You asked, picking at the sides of your fingers nervously.

”No.” He huffed, reaching up to grab your wrist to separate your hands, not wanting you to mar up your skin.

”Did you… were you *hoping* for it?” You asked quietly, tapping your fingertip repeatedly against his hand.

”Jesus, can we not do this?” He asked tiredly. His left leg starting to bob up and down at the knee, like he was getting antsy at the red light he’d just pulled up to.

“What are you fishing for? What answer are you trying to get?” He growled in annoyance. It was clear that he really didn’t want to continue this conversation.

“Anakin, I just- I’m not trying to ‘fish’ for anything.” You snapped at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I just want to be included!”

He froze, his face immediately morphing into a drawn and pale expression that showed just how unexpected your statement was. Or perhaps just how utterly unprepared he was to respond to such a bold declaration.

“W-wait, no that’s not…” You said quickly, holding out both hands as you twisted in your seat to turn toward him. “I don’t mean it like that.”

”Then what the hell do you mean?” He yelled, throwing open the center console to dig around for his lighter, needing a cigarette to calm his nerves.

“No, you were right.” You started to backtrack, staring out the front windshield to avoid the icy look he threw your way. “We shouldn’t be doing this now. We’re supposed to be house hunting.”

”No, ma’am, we shouldn’t. But you opened your mouth so…” He said sharply, gesturing at you like he was prompting you to keep talking. “So? Couldn’t shut your damn mouth before, open it back up and spit it out.”

”Ani, I just want you to stop being so… secret-y.” You let the words fall out of your mouth.

“Secret-y?” He scoffed, running his hand through his hair as he blew out a puff of smoke, cracking his window open. “You think I *like* hiding things from you?”

“Yes.” You said before you even had a chance to process the word forming on your tongue.

”Are you fuckin’ serious?” He squeaked, genuinely so surprised by your rapid fire answer that he dropped his cigarette from his lips, allowing it to fall into his lap.

“Shit! Fuck-“ He yelped, trying to focus on driving while also retrieving the cigarette before it burnt a hole in his jeans.

You reached over in a flash, pinching the filter between your fingers and plucking it up from his lap, holding it back out to him. The cherry had fallen out and charred a black spot onto the car upholstery between his thighs. He cursed under his breath and swiped at the ashes to fling them out on to floor mat beneath him.

”Thanks.” He mumbled, snatching it from between your fingers to relight it and finish smoking it in silence, presumably trying to pre-plan his next words to you.

“So you… do you really think I like hiding things from you?” He asked in a horribly hurt, tiny voice.

”N-not intentionally.” You sighed, reaching over to put your hand on his knee to comfort him. “I just think maybe you sometimes don’t tell me things because you’re like, scared or worried. I feel like you keep things from me because you think its best for me, but it’s not.”

”And why not?” He asked, his jaw line sharpening as he clenched his teeth tightly. “How do you know what’s best for you? You suck at being an adult.” He mumbled under his breath.

”Anakin!” You gasped, pulling your hand away from his knee as his words registered. “That is completely unfair. If anyone here sucks at being an adult it’s you.” You shot back.

”Excuse me?” He huffed, so distracted by the increasingly heated conversation to pay attention, not using a turn signal when pulling onto a side road, causing the car behind you to honk.

“Oh shut the fuck up!” Anakin growled over his shoulder as if the driver could hear him, throwing up a middle finger for good measure.

“I might have some issues but at least I can keep my shit together.” Anakin barked. “I don’t get wasted anytime I have a minor problem!”

”That’s only ever happened once and you know it!” You yelled back, your foot stomping down on the floor mat. “It’s your fault anyway!”

”MY fault?” He scoffed, smacking the steering wheel in anger, making the car swerve.

”Be careful!” You squealed, your hand reaching out to steady the steering wheel but not quite reaching it. It was more of a warning that if it happened again, you would be grabbing the wheel to correct his mistake.

”Don’t tell me how to fucking drive, its fine.” He grumbled, forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. As much as he hated to admit it, you were right, he shouldn’t be so careless especially with you in the car with him.

“Look, w-we’re almost to this place. Don’t… just don’t.” Giving you a warning glance. “Chill out before we get there.”

“Whatever.” You muttered, crossing your arms, lips stuck in an irritated frown. You spent the last few moments in the vehicle in complete, utter, discomforting silence before finally arriving at the house you were scheduled to see.

“C’mon.” Anakin murmured, opening your car door for you, offering you his hand, but you declined, jerking your head in the opposite direction, purposefully making it as obvious as possible that you didn’t want his help.

“Stop being a bitch.” He spat out between his teeth as he flashed a smile at the realtor who was standing on the front porch, unlocking this stranger’s front door.

“You stop being a bitch.” You mumbled, walking in front of him at a quick pace. At this point you just wanted to get the day over with and go home. Sit on the opposite side of the hall from Anakin. You needed some space before you ended up ripping all your hair out.

“You didn’t like any of the places we saw today?” Anakin asked in an exhausted tone, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment building.

“No I didn’t.” You huffed, rolling your eyes when Anakin muttered something about how this was a waste of time.

”What didn’t you like?” He asked, trying to be more understanding as you both made your way to the entrance to the building.

“Your attitude.” You said in a snippy voice.

”Jesus Christ!” He growled, tossing up his hands to run through his hair. “I’m genuinely asking you!”

”I’m genuinely telling you.” You bobbed your head as you spoke, sassy and annoying in a way that made Anakin want to plant his fist in the drywall.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sighing and rubbing his face while he watched you open your apartment door and walk inside, turn and stand in the doorway.

”I don’t want you in here right now.” You said quietly, refusing to look up at him.

”What the fuck? Why?” He asked, truly sounding a little panicked.

“I don’t want to argue anymore. I’m tired.” You answered simply, attempting to close the door.

”Then we won’t argue, I swear. We can just have a quiet night.” He quickly grabbed the door in a crushing grip, shoving his foot against the doorframe to keep you from shutting him out.

”No!” You frustratedly pulled on the doorknob, catching his foot and making him suck in a breath through his teeth, his hand forming a fist to pound on the wall with the side of his hand.

“Fuck!” He growled, done playing nice with you now that you’d actually hurt him. He ripped the door open so hard that it pulled you forward, unable to let go of the doorknob fast enough, so you fell into his chest.

Anakin grunted at the impact, but stood firmly, refusing to move unless it was forward. He crushed you against his chest with his left arm braced against your back, your arms trapped against him as his right hand grabbed the crook of your knee to lift you up, stomping into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind you both.

”Put me down!” You squealed, wriggling and kicking to try and squirm out of his grip. “Anakin! I said put me down!”

”Shut the fuck up!” He shouted in your ear, tossing you down on the couch so hard you sank down into the cushion and felt the hard metal frame against your thighs. “Now you’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna fucking listen to me, got it?” He snarled, grabbing your face in one large hand, calloused fingertips biting into the flesh.

”I’ve had enough of this back and forth. You understand me?” He growled, releasing your face and turning on his heel to put his hands in his hair, breathing out as he puffed up his cheeks.

“You wanna talk for real? Let’s talk for real.” He shoved his hands down in his front pockets, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his neck like he was trying to relieve the tension in his muscles. “I mean it. Okay? I mean it. I’m- I can’t… I won’t. A-ask me whatever. I’ll tell you. All of it if you want.”

You sat there, feeling bile rising up the back of your throat. Your skin crawled at the thought of hearing ‘all of it’. All? Everything? You weren’t sure you wanted to- no. You knew you couldn’t handle it. Not all at once. He’d said it with so much weight that you could physically see how much he was carrying inside him. The guilt poured out of his blue eyes, giving you a glimpse into that hidden pit in his mind that he’d tried so hard to hide from you and from himself.

“Well?” He swallowed thickly, looking almost desperate to hear you ask the first question.

“Why did you lie to me for so long?” You asked, feeling your throat constricting, tightening up as if your own body was trying to stop you from asking.

”Really?” He scoffed, almost surprised that was your first inquiry, he was almost certain you’d jump straight into the juicy bits.

”Alright.” Anakin pursed his lips, scratching the sharp edge of his jaw. “Put yourself in my shoes.” He gestured to his chest with both hands, fingertips hitting the space between his pectorals. He was hoping by sharing more than you asked for with each question, it’d be over faster.

“Imagine how painful a bowling ball would be if it fell off the counter, right onto your stomach.” He threw out his right arm at the kitchen countertop. “Fucking bust your damn guts, if it was heavy enough, right?”

”I guess it probably would but-“ You furrowed your brows, unsure what this had to do with your question.

”Yeah, but if you put it in one of those ugly leather bags, it won’t roll off, right?” Anakin asked rhetorically, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he started to pace the living room. “So now, forget that you know what’s inside that bag. You don’t know what’s in there, it could be something dangerous. You don’t know, cause you can’t see it.”

”I didn’t want to hurt you, scare you, worry you. It was safer and more manageable to conceal myself from you, let you unzip the bag. Y’know cause you can see the bowling bowl inside, know what’s in there without taking it out.” Anakin looked down at his hands, mimicking the action of picking something up.

“Even though you know it’s a bowling ball, you can’t tell how heavy it is until you pick it up.” He said, holding out the imaginary bowling ball. “Does that make sense?”

”Okay, so you’re saying that… Ghost is the bag? Cause of the mask?” You muttered, having a hard time solidifying the metaphor in reality.

“No, its the opposite.” He shook his head, giving you an almost proud smile, like he was relieved that you’d finally said it aloud, you hadn’t made him do it. Although his eyes drooped in a way that conveyed a deep self loathing.

It was clear that despite his relief, he despised the fact he’d been weak and deluded enough to believe he had split himself in two all for *your* benefit in the beginning. In reality, everything he’d done was all for him. And once again, he was too weak and deluded to fully admit that fact to himself. If he were to accept that as truth, his entire purpose for enduring life thus far, would be flushed down the toilet of oblivion.

”Or maybe you’re right, it wouldn’t be the first time you saw through me in a way I didn’t expect.” A smile of chagrin etched into his nervously chewed lips.

“The way I see it though, is… well, it’s like this.” He sighed, kneeling down in front of you to take both your hands in his. “The bag is the Anakin you met. The surface layer of me.”

”I took the bowling ball out of the bag and I set it on the counter on one of those… those cup things that keep them from rolling around.” He jerked his head to the side in the direction of the kitchenette.

”You’ve been carrying around an empty bag. You didn’t know it was empty, since you couldn’t see inside. But it was a nice bag, maybe a little beat up looking but it was pretty solid. No holes. Right?” He said, a flat affect blanketing his face like he didn’t want you to know how he really felt while talking about this.

“So meanwhile, that big bowling ball was on the counter the whole time. It didn’t… feel safe, without it’s bag and the person who held it.” He paused, eyes going out of focus as he stared just a hair to the left of your face.

“Every so often, something would bump into it. Knock it off the stand.” He said, his brows pinched together as one hand hovered palm down, sliding through the air in a slow line. “Takes a tiny push and it’ll roll until it falls off the edge of the counter and squishes someone.”

“It’s not like it’s… inherently dangerous. But in the right conditions it could be a fatal weapon.” Anakin said, swiftly dropping his hand to hit the floor using the side of his fist to make a thumping sound. “And you know, it’s round so it can’t really control whether it keeps rolling or if it stops. The environment decides its mobility.”

“So even if it…” He paused, standing up suddenly and turning around so he could curse himself for not realizing he was crying until he saw the empathy in your eyes as you gazed at him.

“Even if it *wanted* to stop, it can’t.” Anakin said, one arm across his chest with his hand supporting his elbow while he rubbed at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

“Anakin, come sit with me.” Watching him so clearly struggled with himself was heartbreaking if not a little unsettling. He was crying with an entirely neutral face, eyes devoid of any depth, like a failure of a portrait.

“I get what you’re saying.” You nodded as he made his way to the couch reluctantly. “So here’s what we’re going to do, okay?” You said in an almost motherly tone.

“Put it back in the bag okay?” You said, eyebrows raised expectantly as you waiting for him to nod. “Good, we put it back in the bag and we leave it unzipped.”

“Really?” Anakin asked, his bottom lip wobbling while his mouth downturned into a shaky frown. “You mean it?” He sucked in a choked breath to hold, his eyes growing redder by the second as hot tears freely slipped from his lashes.

“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile. Only growing wider when he lunged at you for a crushing squeeze around your waist, his face buried in the softness of your belly.

“You won’t be scared?” He asked, his shoulders shaking like an his emotions were causing an internal earthquake.

“Do I look scared?” You asked, a hint of a smirk on your face as you gently pet his hair in a calming pattern.

“I’m afraid to look.” He muttered, using the hem of your tshirt to roughly wipe at his nose like a child.

“Well, I don’t.” You said quietly, tugging on the large red and black plug in his left ear. “I’m not scared of you. I don’t think I ever really was. I think I *wanted* to be scared.”

“Yeah?” Anakin sniffled, seemingly calming down now that he was able to touch you and know that you were really there, saying these insanely unbelievable things. “Cause if I scare you, for real, I’ll do what I can to-“

“Ani.” You sighed, twirling one of the longer curls at the back of his neck around your forefinger. “No. I don’t want you to be half a person.”

“Baby.” His voice cracked in a devastating way, conveying just how much he needed to hear that from you.

“I’m serious.” You said, bouncing your knee to get his attention, making him look up at you with his red splotchy cheeks and beautiful watery blue eyes. “No more of that. And I want to know things. Okay?”

“It’s not like I schedule it.” Anakin huffed, rolling his eyes at you even as his lips turned up in the corners by a tiny little fraction.

“How does that… ? How?” Biting your lip as you gazed down at him, knuckles gently stroking his cheek. You didn’t know how to ask for the answers you needed.

“You.” Anakin said plainly and clearly. So unbothered and so certain that it took you a second to really absorb what that meant.

Everyone he’d killed since you’d met Ghost. Every person. Each human. Died.

Because of you.

Floundering in shock, you opened your mouth with wide eyes. Slowly relaxing those muscles until your mouth closed again and the muscles pulled themselves down into deep contemplation. Unable to comprehend exactly what about you warranted all that violence. You didn’t even know how many people… just the confirmed. The ones he absolutely couldn’t deny. Frat boys. Record shop guy.

“Before?” Your voice tiny, meek and kind of shaky. Almost amusing to Anakin, but he didn’t show it outwardly.

“Two.” He said with a nod, flipping his top lip up to fiddle with his septum ring while he waited for you to react with what he expected to be horror.

“Actually-“ His hand shot up, his fingers splayed as he mumbled names under his breath.* “three. Sorry. Forgot.”

Forgot. He forgot? How do you just forget people like that? People he’s seen the life drain out of, people with families that he destroyed. The air felt colder as it rushed through your lungs, the chill seeping into your gut.

“Do animals count?” He asked, tilting his head back to frown up at you.

“Anim- Animals?” You stuttered, not expecting that. He’d always been so sweet to your cat… should you have been concerned this whole time? Didn’t you hear in a true crime special that seri… serial killers. Serial killer. That’s what he was. You’d said it before, now it’s real. So very real.

“Probably don’t wanna hear that.” He murmured, backtracking awkwardly when he realized you’d gotten uncomfortable.

“N-no, don’t.” Shaking your head quickly as you chewed the inside of your cheek. You really didn’t want to know. Truly you didn’t. But if this was going to work, there couldn’t be anymore secrets. “Tell me. I need to understand.”

“Sweetheart, there’s some things you can’t unhear.” He whispered, his calloused hand rising up to brush your hair away from your shoulder. His thumb caressing your throat while the weight and warmth of his palm rested against the side of your neck.

“I know that!” Scowling down at him before taking a breath and saying it again with less venom.

“Lots.” He mumbled, eye brows raised and pinched together in concern. “Like… I can’t count. I don’t remember.”

“What about the ones you do remember?” You swallowed, deciding that this needed to be a conversation that your eyes were closed for. You could pretend these words weren’t really coming from him. “Bertie?”

“No way, I loved Bertie.” He shook his head, voice squeaking in a panic like he was surprised you’d even suggest it. Could he really blame you though? He kept him in a jar for fucks sake.

“Alright, sorry.” You said with a sigh. “Just curious.”

“Bertie lived longer than most rats actually. I took really good care of him. He had like… a rat mansion.” He said expressively, his pointer finger gently pushing up your eyebrow to make you peek down at him. “I swear. Not Bertie.”

“Okay. Not Bertie.” You nodded, reluctantly looking down at him in concession.

“The first *real* one I remember was this lady’s who lived just outside the subdivision we lived in.” He started, lacing his hands together over his chest. “She had a shit ton of cats. Like, you could smell the piss just from standing in her yard. She let ‘em all out at once, around lunch time.”

“So I sat there across the street for about a week. Just watching.” He said, his voice calm and steady. “None of them wanted to come up to me.”

“I researched some snares.” Anakin said, making a loop motion with his finger before dropping it back to rest along the back of his opposite hand. “It took two days but I finally caught one.”

“How old were you?” You asked, preparing yourself.

“Nine? Maybe ten?” He said dismissively. “I killed stuff before that. But not pets.”

“Okay, so what then?” You sighed, feeling a little sick and queasy.

“Before then? Like fish… frogs, moles, mice and birds. If I could catch it with my hands or in a glue trap, chances are I did.” He said matter of factly, tucking his arms under his armpits. He kept moving like he was afraid to stay still for too long.

“What was the biggest animal?” Morbidly curious now that the conversation was actually flowing. You thought maybe the bigger the animal, the less sad you’d feel about it.

“People.” Anakin said. Hearing that, you popped open your eyes to see him smirking like a little shit.

“Anakin.” You drew out his name in a few extra exasperated syllables.

“Fine.” He sighed, obviously hoping that would’ve made you end the questioning. “A pig.”

“They’re supposed to be anatomically similar to humans.” He shrugged, flopping his head to the side, looking toward the wall to avoid your attention. “Wanted practice.”

“Why?” You asked, an unsettling feeling taking root in your stomach.

“I didn’t want to fuck it up.” He mumbled, jerking his head as he twisted his lanky body to rest on his side, facing away from you.

“Who was it?” The question shot out of your mouth faster than you could even mentally form the words.

“None of your-“ He started to snap at you, but bit his tongue and forcibly made himself stop. He took a long pause and muttered something under his breath.

“Remember when I told you I hit that guy and got sent to the big, bad, scary boy school?” He sighed.

“I remember Ghost, telling me he went to a big, bad, scary boy school.” You sassed back, yanking on his ear to make him turn his head back to you.

“Same fuckin’ thing.” He scoffed, smacking away your hand. “I tried to, y’know. Obviously I did a shit job.”

“I- I didn’t swing from the right angle.” He scowled, standing up and dusting his jeans off before he stepped back and mechanically went through the motions of the first hit from that attack. Like he’d re-enacted it before. Several times.

“Fuck.” He grumbled, feigning a swing again. “I didn’t realize he was so much taller than me, lost momentum in the up-swing.” He frowned.

“Still pisses me off.” He mumbled, sitting back down with a light bounce on the cushions, his head falling into his hands.

“How come Ghost didn’t tell me that?” You asked, genuinely getting angry that he hadn’t divulged all the details the first go-round.

“We were kinda busy and I really didn’t want to make you think I was a damn psycho.” He shot back with a scowl.

“Found that out pretty quickly after you murdered an entire fraternity.” You gritted out through your teeth.

“I didn’t kill an entire fraternity!” He whisper shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. ��You know damn well I didn’t.” He growled, jabbing a finger into your chest.

“Don’t- Anakin!” You gasped. Was he seriously trying to compare your unfortunate self-defense situation to purposeful murder?

“I’m not!” He scoffed, running a hand through his thick black hair. “I didn’t say anything about that!”

“It’s not my fucking fault those guys couldn’t get out of the closet.” He grumbled, roughly mussing up his hair. “It’s not like I meant for them to die! I just didn’t want them to have time to follow us.”

“Jesus, you act like I’m some kind of-“ Anakin paused, his hands out in front of him before he took in a breath and balled them into fists to rest on his knees. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just… stop for now. Okay?” You suggested, knowing you couldn’t mentally handle anymore anyway.

“No, just hit me with your big questions and get it over with.” He sighed softly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I don’t want to re-hash this another time.”

His request was reasonable of course. This was mentally draining for you to listen to and you were certain it was just as exhausting for him to retell. It’s just difficult to imagine you could stomach much more.

“What about the other people before me?” You asked nervously, licking your bottom lip when your mouth suddenly felt dry.

“I was angry.” He mumbled, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee and letting his hands fall into his lap. “I didn’t ever want to fuck up that bad again. That guy… he just- he was always so damn rude and went out of his way to inconvenience us. Y’know?”

“Like shoving his garbage into our trash cans on pick-up day. He let his dog shit in our yard. He mowed over my mom’s peonies, before we put up the fence in the back.” Anakin scowled, even the memory pissed him off. The fact he was having to use mental energy to recall such a worthless person was irritating.

“He backed into mom’s new car. He’d have a bunch of people over and block our driveway… sometimes even tell people to park in our driveway too.” Anakin breathed out, flexing his fingers before clasping his hands together, trying to hide the way he was beginning to fidget.

“Then he got married and had a stepkid, nice girl. Didn’t talk much.” He said, his left knee starting to bounce almost uncontrollably. “She was probably still in elementary school.”

“I saw him smack his wife once.” Anakin gritted his teeth, the sound audible and squeaky. “I knew he was shitty, but I didn’t realize he was a waste of space until then.”

“I was so mad that it was hard to breathe.” He scoffed, gesturing at his chest. “He smacked her outside, where anyone could see. He didn’t care. It’s like he thought that no one would say anything to him or try to stop him.”

“Poor girl saw the whole thing and he just laid into her, screaming and throwing a man-tantrum.” He sneered. “I couldn’t ignore it.”

“But that’s not- I mean-” You paused, a little surprised that the story was going in such a direction. You hadn’t expected his previous… activities… to be somewhat justifiable.

“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in question to you, wondering why you’d interrupted.

“Nothing, just thinking aloud.” You quickly corrected yourself and let him continue.

“Well… anyway.” He sighed, rubbing his forefinger’s knuckle beneath his nose. “I knew he’d be driving past the dumpsters on his way out that evening, so I bought some spray paint and was spray-painting shit all over the dumpsters. Obviously baiting him, y’know?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the irritation in his voice.

“I thought maybe if things didn’t go well, I could just say he and I were fighting over the graffiti. Which is exactly what I ended up having to do. Since I didn’t hit him hard enough, enough times.”

“I guess that makes sense.” You nodded, feeling your mental energy draining straight out your ears.

“Yeah, I was a fucking idiot.” He scoffed, acting as if he took your comment as sarcasm. “Never happened again. I made sure of it.”

“How… exactly?” You asked, internally smacking yourself for asking, even though it needed to be answered.

“I swore off anyone I knew.” He held up a finger, bending it to tap repeatedly against the pad of his thumb* “I had to find someone that guys size. So I could correct my mistake. I had to do it within a month.”

“Why?” You frowned, wondering if he’d set that time limit for himself for whatever reason.

“My court date.” He said plainly. “I knew I wasn’t getting out of punishment. I was going to jail or that Juvie school for certain.”

“Oh, right.” That made sense… except you’d have assumed he’d be under some sort of supervision because of the assault. Did they just let violent offenders on bail roam freely while they waited for court?

“I just found a guy who looked similarly built to what’s-his-face. Then I beat the shit out of him until I figured out how to swing up at someone taller and bigger than me.” He said simply. “Obviously I don’t have to worry about that anymore though.” Anakin gestured to his long, lanky legs and lean muscles.

“You did what?” Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened to the size of saucers as his words went in one ear and straight out the other as if your brain didn’t even want to entertain that as fact. “Beat him? You beat someone to death?”

“How else was I going to figure out how I messed up so bad the first time?” Anakin asked as if it were common practice. He seemed genuinely surprised that you were upset, like he wasn’t sure what he said to make you feel so shocked.

“Like with your fists?” You asked, face contorted into a strange expression of mixed morbid curiosity and a hint of fear.

“No, I’m not stupid.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Skin cell transfer, sweat, hair, blood. That’s a terrible idea 1) it’d fucking hurt and 2) why would I waste time and effort with my fists when I can be a one hit wonder with a crowbar?”

“Oh.” You slumped in your seat, feeling a little… inferior? If that was the correct word, for it. You hadn’t really thought about the logistics or risks of pummeling someone with your hands.

“Let’s go across the hall.” Anakin suggested with a sudden burst of energy as he sprung up to his full height and immediately started heading for the door.

“Okay?” You furrowed your brows but hopped up after him, rushing to catch up with his wide steps.

After throwing open his front door, he left it wide open for you to follow him through, while he lifted up his couch cushions and tossed them into a haphazard heap. You’d checked under those cushions, under the couch and behind it, in search of something to prove he was Ghost not so long ago and now watching him un-Velcro the black liner covering the springs… you felt both impressed and a little embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed the liner wasn’t attached as it should’ve been if it were intact from factory production.

With a loud **skrrriptd** the liner was pulled back half way and he reached through the zig-zagged springs to pull out a backpack. Ghost’s backpack. Underneath it laid a long metal box that he also pulled out and swiftly plopped down onto the rug to open it up. Inside was a carefully arranged assortment of knives. All shapes and sizes. He was particularly fond of butterfly knives, as you already knew. You counted at least six that you’d never seen before.

“I got my second one with these.” He said, a weirdly sharp smile on his face. His eyes bright and proud in a way you’d never seen before. You wondered if that’s the face he wore beneath his mask, that sick expression of glee.

He laid out a large serrated hunting knife and a matching set of short, curved blades with handles ending in a thumb-hole. “These would probably be better suited for you though. I got over-excited and picked ‘em up cause they were cool.” He said with a smile, offering the matching pair to you.

“They have a nice back-handed grip, see?” He explained enthusiastically, having you hold out your hands and placing the handles in your palms. Doing all the work for you as he positioned your thumbs in the holes and had you grip them tighter.

“Claw knives.” He said simply, making a punching motion. “Versatile, you can still use your hands while holding them. Like you can climb a ladder or tie your shoes with them in your hands. And fistfight if you have to.”

“My hands are too big for the handles though. I only used them for a bit and had to switch to the big blade there.” He said, gesturing toward the large hunting knife. “I’m glad I kept them around though.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck gently.

“You look pretty with ‘em.” He murmured, his hands traveling up your sides and down your arms, admiring the way the blades looked in your dainty hands. “Very, very pretty.”

“Makes me wanna do some bad things.” He whispered sigh his breath hot against your neck, his tongue licking along the shell of your ear. “Or maybe watch you do some bad things.” Anakin growled with a low grit.

“I don’t think-“ You started, blushing for more than one reason. Partially because he was letting his obvious erection less against your ass and partially because of the shame you felt for considering…

“M’joking.” He chuckled, squeezing you around the middle and giving you a rough kiss on the neck. “I love you baby. I feel… a lot better after all this.” He sighed, spinning you around to face him as he took the knives from your hands.

“I love you too.” You said quietly, watching him place the blades back into the case along with the others.

“Are we gonna talk about… what you were planning for that subdivision?” You asked softly as you laid your head in his lap. Tired and full from dinner as he pet you and watched a silly little girly movie at your insistence.

“I didn’t have anything planned.” He snapped quickly, scowling down at you. “I was just looking.”

“But, why?” You asked with a frown, not convinced at all.

“I just got a weird feeling okay? Wanted to check it out.” He muttered, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger.

“So it’s not someone that did something to…?” You asked the open ended question, not knowing how to phrase it.

“No. Nothing to do with you.” He huffed, staring blankly ahead at the tv. “Promise.”

“If you say so.” You nodded with a sigh, forced to accept his statement as fact.

“How about I make some tea and we’ll go to bed?” Anakin asked, poking you in the cheek with a little smile of reassurance.

“You don’t have to drug me.” You sighed, sitting up and looking at him pointedly.

“W-what?” He sputtered, taken aback by your bold assumption. It was correct, but it was still shocking to him that you’d called him out on it. You were taking all the fun out of this.

“I’ll just go to bed.” You stood up, taking the throw blanket you had been laying with and tossing it over your shoulders like a shawl before shuffling off to the bedroom and face planting onto the mattress, letting yourself sink down into the softness of it.

Anakin shot up from his seat and stood there for a solid minute. Completely frozen and befuddled by your actions. What the hell? What was he supposed to do after that? Continue with his plan? Ditch it? He didn’t like being thrown off like this.

He shook his head and rubbed his face like he thought it would clear away what had just happened and you’d be laying in his lap again, you’d let him make you tea and you’d be out like a light. He wasn’t planning to drug you for malicious reasons. He just wanted to make sure you’d sleep through the night and he wouldn’t have to waste time worrying about you.

Though when he opened his eyes, to his dissatisfaction, reality was… reality and you weren’t there beside him. With a little more effort than usual and a heavy weight in his mind, he changed clothes and grabbed his bag. Walking over to the bedroom to see you laying there scrolling on your phone.

“So… you’re just going to let me go?” He asked, standing in the doorway, looking like a lost child.

“Yes?” You responded, glancing over at him. “What did you expect?”

“I- I don’t know…” he stuttered, shrugging awkwardly. “Not this.” He gestured to you.

“Well you have plans and I’m not included in them so I assumed it’s for a good reason.” You said simply, having learned that it was best to turn a blind eye to things you had no business knowing about. You’d be risking your freedom and his if you knew anymore than you already did. It’s not like you’d hold it together very well under pressure from an interrogation.

“I don’t know if I’m… proud or disappointed.” He mumbled to himself, scratching his head.

“Be… safe?” You offered the sentiment because you weren’t sure what else to say in this situation.

“Yeah.” He muttered, frowning to himself. “I won’t be gone long.” With that, he turned on his heel and tried to shake off the eerie feeling that shrouded him.

After he left, you spent a long time mindlessly scrolling on social media. You weren’t really paying attention to what you were seeing at all, you just needed an excuse not to sleep. Because if not, you’d have to admit to yourself that you were… feeling something. You weren’t sure what, but it was a feeling you knew wasn’t right. It didn’t belong.

Diary Entry

I didn’t even want to go after speaking to you. You didn’t bat an eye at me. It made me want to shake you and force you to come with me. Even though I had no intention of taking you with me in the first place.

Stupid. You’re stupid. I’m stupider.

Anakin crouched below the laundry room window of the massive home that was his target. He just needed a quick look around. That’s all. Just a few more steps on his list and he’d be inside and out quicker than it took for him to break in.

Taking a flathead screwdriver to the keypad housing outside the back door, he popped off the plastic and sat it aside. Thankfully, this bitch left the lights in the laundry room on. Or else he’d be forced to use his phone’s flashlight and that might draw attention.

“C’mon…” He gritted his teeth, mentally counting down the seconds in his mind. He needed to work swiftly. If not, all this prep work with research would be for nothing. “Stupid fuckin’ gloves.”

The leather was thick enough to keep him from getting electrocuted, unfortunately that also meant it was difficult to navigate through the tiny wires to find what he was searching for. Green, green, blue, yellow.

Green. Snip. Green, Blue. Snip, snip.

He concentrated like never before, knowing that if this went badly, he’d be in deep shit. He couldn’t afford to get arrested for a simple B&E. Not when he had so many skeletons in his closet. He prepped the cables with electrical tape, joining the two green cables together without allowing the copper wiring inside to touch.

“Peel back the wire casing…” Anakin mumbled, licking his lips beneath the black bandanna tied around his lower face. “a little twist…”

“Green 1 to Green 2.” He whispered, shaking out his hands and shoving his phone into his mouth with the charging cord attached, along with a car cigarette lighter adaptor on the opposite end, held up with his pinky finger.

“Blue 1 to Green 3.” He twisted the copper wiring together and quickly. “Blue 2 to Green 4.”

Yellow. Snip.

With those wires cut and prepped he had a measly five seconds to connect the necessary circuits or face the consequences of his actions.

His hands started to sweat inside his gloves. Anakin hadn’t felt pressure like this in ages. Probably since the first time he’d broken into a home. It was nerve wracking enough to make his hands shake a little as he quickly stripped the wire casing and connected the two ends of the yellow wire to the car adapter. Finally he wrapped the electric tape around the adapter and yellow wiring, watching as his phone lit up with the logo of the Westside Watch app.

“Oh thank fuck!” He quietly punched the air in front of him with his phone clutched in his hand. “Jesus, finally. Did something fucking right.” He breathed out, shaking his hands and arms to rid himself of any lingering feelings of anxiety.

Anakin opened the app and pulled up the in-home camera monitoring, checking every room for movement, every corner for signs of life. Even though he’d already confirmed there was no car in the garage and the wretched lady who owned the place was out galavanting around.

She was wealthy, it wouldn’t be totally unexpected if she had a maid or even a watchdog somewhere in the house, but everything seemed clear. So he disabled the alarms and paused all camera activity before he picked the locks on the back door.

With that finished, he slipped off his shoes and crept into the home. For the home of such a bitchy woman, Anakin had expected something more… pretentious. Yeah it was clear that she didn’t get her furniture at Marshal’s, but it also wasn’t absolutely atrocious in style.

It reminded him of the homes inside the magazines his mom always had in the bathroom. Too clean and too untouched to be properly lived in. There wasn’t a warm or cozy atmosphere like he’d found in your home. It was devoid of any personal touches, not even a stray throw blanket or decorative pillow. Did this lady enjoy being uncomfortable?

He grudgingly decided to trek upstairs. It was useless to continue his search on the main floor. Clearly it was in a pristine ’guests could arrive any moment’ state and he wasn’t willing to risk moving anything out of its place.

He had suspected she was unmarried. Never having seen a wedding ring on her during their initial meeting, but it was confirmed when he opened her bedroom door and saw the clothes draped over an armchair, a makeup vanity with overflowing drawers and a comforter set that no self respecting man would sleep in.

“Looks like a person lives here after all.” He chuckled, rifling through drawers and peeking in her closet.

Nothing of interest caught his attention in her bedroom so he left, shutting the door behind him and continuing to the next door. Bathroom. He didn’t even bother to flip on the light, he just shut the door and continued on.

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.” He nodded to himself, turning on the desk lamp before he sat down in the stupidly comfortable ergonomic swivel chair.

There were papers everywhere.

“Little Miss Pantsuit sure does take a lot of work home.” He muttered under his breath as he flipped through halfway filled out intakes and records.

Anakin sat everything back just as messily as he found it, so he could focus of finding personal affects. If this lady had any. The walls were bare. Did she just spawn into existence like the fucking wraith that he saw her to be?

And just like that, just when he started searching through desk drawers, he saw something. *Under* the desk. A pillow? No, when he turned on the lamp it was clearly a pet bed. An embroidered one at that.

“Rex?” Anakin called out, expecting a cat to appear judging by the size of the bed and the fact that there was a heated blanket placed under the bed, cats do like to be warm after all. “C’mere buddy.” He clicked his tongue and tapped his fingers on the desktop.

Scuttling. The best word to describe what exactly he heard coming down the hallway. Rex breathed like an asbestos smoker when he finally entered the room after what felt like ages of scratching and clicking on the floors as he made his way to the home office.

That was no cat. That was a decrepit, cesspool of a science experiment gone horribly awry. The dog, if it could be classified as that, was crusty. To say the least. Eye boogers and cataracts, his head perpetually cocked to the side, the tip of its tongue dripping drool on the floor as it hung from it’s mouth and its entire body jerked with the force of the hoarse and overused bark attack he launched.

“What the fuck are you?” Anakin whispered, mouth falling open in disgust while holding the… undead? fiend at bay with the tip of his shoe to its chest.

It had to be some kind of yorkie mixed with maybe a possum considering the awkward placement of its eyes. Or maybe in its ancient age its eye sockets were just a little too tired to contain the entirety of its massive bulging eyeballs.

He reached down at picked up the creature by the scruff its neck, watching it flail and throw itself around while trying to bite the hand that held him aloft. With his left hand, he wrapped his gloved hand around its muzzle and within a moment or two the struggling stopped. The aggressive, sharp barking halted and its body went limp.

“Are you-“ Anakin quickly rolled the chair back and stood up, holding the animal as far away from himself as possible while he ran his left hand over the front of his hoodie. “Did you fucking piss on me? Jesus Christ have you no self respect?” He grimaced, looking down at the moisture on his leather glove.

“Nasty ass bitch and her nasty ass mutt.” He mumbled, laying the dog down on its pet bed and half expecting it to mummify right before his eyes.

“Ungrateful prick.” He scoffed, rolling the chair back up to the desk and inserting a flash drive from his pocket to the computer monitor. “Just saved your mom $500 bucks. I’m a professional euthanizer myself, only I don’t charge for it.” He snickered.

After all the files were transferred to the flash drive, Anakin slid it back into his pocket and closed down the computer again. Standing up as he held the front of his hoodie away from his body, pinched between his forefinger and thumb. He made his way through the upstairs, checking the bedrooms and bathroom.

Sad gray paint. Boring white bedding. Tiny nightstands. One average no-personality white lady spare bedroom. Why would she need two spare bedrooms when it’s clear she doesn’t get visitors?He thought as he opened the next door.

Workout equipment and a closet full of totes, which of course he rifled through and saw absolutely nothing of value. Other than the very obvious fact that she was probably breaking some sort of middle aged woman receipt hoarding record. So, she was self aware enough not to waste time and money on another spare bedroom that would never be used.

The master bedroom held a massive bed with pristinely made bedding. The only real sign that an actual human lived there was the laundry basket overflowing in the corner and the rest of the week’s work clothes laid out neatly on the dresser.

Anakin knelt down and opened all the dresser drawers. Boring, un-exciting, useless. This woman was so unnaturally work oriented that she seemed to have absolutely no interest in life outside of her profession. What a sad existence. There wasn’t a single ‘let’s get laid’ dress in the closet. Nothing risqué in the drawers. She didn’t even have regular comfy clothes. She actually spent real life money on expensive matching loungewear rather than wearing a hole ridden, thread bare, free tshirt that she got from a highschool event like every other person on earth.

Why does she feel the need to be so… ‘perfect’?

Does she realize this kind of behavior does the opposite of its intended purpose? Sure, she looks put-together and it’s clear she’s not middle class. Though any girl with eyes and a brain would conclude she’s a major bitch rather than a woman to be jealous of.

What is she hiding that makes her act this way?

“Finally.” Anakin breathed out, grabbing a rather slim, embossed photo album from a box in the very top of the closet. Mementos. Maybe she did have a soul after all.

He flipped through it. Business brunches, office events, landscape photography. Plain. Boring. Her adult life was… pitiful. Though the farther back he searched, the photos delved into her more personal details. Tennis during college. Sheet protectors of newspaper clippings for achievements and noteworthy accomplishments. Surprisingly, robotics club seemed kind of fun. She liked it, her smile was genuine in those moments.

The younger she was in those photos, the more human she became to Anakin. She wasn’t just a cold, professional, weird lady. She at least *used* to have a personality.

Highschool Musical birthday party for her 10th. Overjoyed expression while seeing a tiger at the zoo. Field trip to the aquarium. Childhood friends with toothy grins who probably didn’t speak to her anymore. S’mores with the girl-scout troop. A middle school love interest with Bieber hair and flat brim hat. Obligatory handlebar mustache decor in her old bedroom.

Trendy and popular across the board. Homecoming queen, gaudy prom dresses, boatloads of boys and best friends.

Possibly single mother? Sisters. Normal middle class, suburban styled childhood home, kind of messy but in a lived-in way, not a dirty way. Purple bicycle in the garage.

Some photos were missing from the slots, so Anakin turned to flip through the random assortment of photos and papers lining the bottom of the box.

Childhood diary, that’s certainly going in the backpack. He thumbed through it and a few pictures fluttered down the the floor, he scooted them over into a pile on their own with the diary laid on top while he put everything back into the closet and turned his attention to the nightstands. Books and Tylenol, sleeping mask, Snickers bar. Normal.

There was a briefcase sized safe hiding under the bed, unfortunately he didn’t have the tools to break into it. But he did certainly jot down the make and model of it to study later. Just in case.

With everything settled, he casually trotted down the steps and went back out the way he came. The rest of the house was so completely uninteresting that he didn’t even bother with the garage and basement.

His retrieved his phone and put the casing back on the security system keypad, leaving the internal wire changes in order to leave himself a re-entry point. She’d still be able to access it without realizing there was any changes.

After arriving back at home, he swiftly rinsed off in the shower and changed clothes. Opting to toss the black hoodie in the garbage rather than take it down to the laundromat for a wash. Piss soaked crime-time clothing? No thanks. He had two more plain black hoodies anyway.

He plopped down in his desk chair, clicked the flash drive into place and while he waited for the files to upload, he flipped through the diary. His cheek resting on his fist as he turned the pages and inspected the pictures glued to the pages that accompanied some of the entries.

Halfway through the girly, scrawled gel pen script, he paused. Going rigid at what he read. His palms started to sweat and he felt himself growing clammy before his senses returned and he jumped up from his seat, tripping over his feet.

“Baby!” Anakin’s voice cracked, the bed creaking under his weight. “Baby wake up, you gotta see this.”

@tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @sweetcheesecakesblog @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @hemmoxloser @ahano @astarionsgirl @popcosmi @purriteen @sydkneez @sinisterminist3r @swanlakex

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ghouljams · 18 hours ago

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So bestie, can we get a bit more 1860s! Price? I'm beggin. I'm a sucker for men who want it so bad and women that don't quite reject them.

He so rarely comes into your clinic that you turn your blade on the deputy as soon as hands grab your hips.

"John," relief colors your sigh, and you lower your knife back to the table, content that you're not being stolen away by anyone nefarious, just being bothered by a terrible flirt.

"Any way to greet your future husband?" He chuckles, leaning against your back to push his face against your neck. His beard tickles, but his lips are soft where they trace your pulse.

"Thought you were buildin' me a house." His hum vibrates against your skin. He's warm, soaked up too much of the sun, and it seeps into your skin even through your clothes.

"Heat's gettin' to me." He presses the words into your skin and you shiver. It's getting to you too, soaking you with sweat so that you'll roll up your shirtsleeves, hitch your skirts higher in the privacy of your practice. John's hands trace over your waist, over the seam of your skirt, finding the bones of your corset and following them down and up, down and up. Dizzying.

You push back into him, eager to find him hard, to feel the press of him against you. It's improper, but you're just as subject to the throbbing between your thighs as any man would be. Perhaps more so when it's John that leans his weight against you and grinds his cock against you with a lazy reassurance that he has nothing to do, and nowhere to be but here with you.

"Let me clear space," you fumble through the words, your fingers scraping over the wood of your work desk, mind attempting to catch on what needs to be put away and what can merely be shoved to the side.

"What for?" John rumbles, his hands are already searching, already tugging your skirts up, "Don't let me distract you sweet'eart, keep workin'."

Easier said than done. Your hands are unsteady even as you place them flat against the table, body shivering in anticipation as stagnant air greets your legs. John's fingers sweep between your thighs as quickly as he can get your skirts raised to do so, rough pads swiping through your folds, seeking out the already slick hole that lays between them. It's the heat, it melts sense out of the mind, makes your normally logical thoughts stutter to a halt as one of those fingers presses in, in, in to your cunt.

You make a choked noise, sound trapped behind your rips and your head bowed. You stare at your splayed fingers and try to remember what you were doing before John came in. Some spread of herbs covers the table, ergot, maybe. John's finger draws in and out of you, pushing and pulling at the slowly built heat that bubbles so low in your gut. The warmth of the movement spreads over your skin, tingling with each scrape of his palm against your bottom, with each drag of his knuckle against your entrance.

You push back into the feeling and he clicks his tongue. You're supposed to be working. He moves one of your hands to the knife you'd held, and slips his finger free to circle the digit around your clit. Knives are the last thing you should be handling, but you take it, grip it with too tight fingers and begin separating the leaves from their stems again.

"There you go," John rubs his finger over your clit, and you press the blade of your knife against the table as you squeeze your eyes shut against the feeling. "Just take it slow."

Slow is all you can manage with him touching you. His finger returns to working you open while you slice leaves like molasses through snow. Each slice precise and agonizingly long. The pump of John's finger turns one into two, stroking at your walls, searching with each crook of his fingers. You clench around them, feel the bones of his fingers drag against your soft walls, callused and worn skin meeting the most delicate parts of you.

"Like velvet," John husks against your ear, "you give me the world I'll wrap this pussy so tight around my cock you'll never walk away again."

It's all too tempting like this. Too easy to let whines slip free of your lips, to try and force his hand without giving him a word. To arch your back and wiggle your hips and tempt the way you've seen girls at the saloon tempt. It's the heat, the sun beating down on the world and turning men into animals. Singularly focused, desperate, needy as the moan that finds voice when John's free hand finds your throat.

"Want ta feel you say it." He squeezes his fingers, lips scraping your ear, "Fuck me." Your breath shudders out of you, words failing just to feel the bare of his teeth when he repeats himself. "Fuck me."

John's always hated repeating himself.

"Fuck me," You fold, voice lost to the empty room, words for no one but John Price.

You barely mourn the loss of his fingers before the head of his cock notches against your entrance. Sinful, that's the only word for the burning stretch, for the sinking, the swallowing of your cunt around him. Each rocking of his hips eases another inch inside, knocks another breath from your lungs. He finds the deepest pit of you, pushing his hips against your ass and circling them, knocking that aching darkness until it feels like it'll swallow you whole.

"Thought you needed a house," John hums.

"We can add an extra room," You murmur, turning your head to try and catch his eye. His hand moves, cradling your jaw to keep your head tipped when he wants. Your neck twinges from the stretch, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care when his lips find yours and his hips begin to thrust.

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gloomwitchwrites · 10 hours ago

Note

Hello Poppy!!! I have a request please if thats okay!

The other night my sister was telling me a story, the details of which are not important; but the jist of it is that someone was being disrespectful to her and she shut it down. But while she was telling the story, she looked at me and said "im glad you werent there because you would have been making that face the whole time" 🤣🤣🤣 the face in question was one of absolute puzzlement and disgust (a la Zendaya in that one scene of Challengers)

Anyway, it got me thinking (as i so often do) about the 141 with a partner who CAN NOT keep a poker face. Somebody says some fuckshit, everyone knows they fucked up just by the facial expression. The epitome of "if looks could kill"

I'm absolutely the same way. I cannot keep a neutral expression to save my life lmao

Gaz loves that you cannot keep a straight face around anything or anyone. Nothing makes him smile more than seeing your passive expression become one of utter bafflement. It’s why he loves going to events and functions with you or spilling the social work tea over dinner. The two of you can sit in the back, listening and watching other people acting like todgers, sharing in the mutual bafflement.

Soap is perfectly fucking giddy to let you off your leash. At the pub, the alcohol always gives the tension a little boost, but when someone bumps into Soap, and instead of apologizing, wants to start a fight, the look on your face is priceless. Soap will stay silent and smiling, allowing you to use that facial expression and gorgeous mouth to come to his defense. If they decide to turn their entitlement on you, it’ll be the all clear he needs to throw a fist.

Ghost sees you over the wanker’s shoulder that’s talking his ear off. The bloke is red in the face—seething over something Ghost did or said. You have that look of disgust and puzzlement you always get when someone’s being an arsehole. Ghost grins at the man—devilish and knowing. “Best move on before I set my wife on you.”

Price notices the shift on your face like it’s second nature. Doesn’t matter when or where, you’re completely unable to keep a stoic or passive expression when someone is acting like a bloody idiot. The other thing you can’t control is your mouth. So, when someone decides to make Price their verbal target, he’s quick to put his arm out to act as a barrier between you and your target.

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thanksbutno98 · 19 hours ago

Text

John Price Drabble

John Price x wife!reader

——————

“You got ice cream?” You watched your husband walk through the back door of your home holding a large plastic cup with a lid. John’s look of excitement dropped at the sight of you.

The container he had was translucent so you could see the three swirls of vanilla soft serve. Each peak had a bright red cherry with its ruby juice swirling down the vanilla slopes. As soon as the words left your lips John hid what he was holding behind his back.

“Uh, what are you doing home early?” John wasn’t expecting you to be home, you said you were going to be on a run at this time.

The plan was to eat this by himself and hide his shame by throwing it in the outside bin so you wouldn’t see it. John didn’t mind sharing normally, but with three kids it was nice to get something to himself from time to time.

“Don’t answer my question with a question.” Without thinking you grabbed two spoons from the kitchen drawer and waved John over so you two could share. Ice cream sounded amazing on this warm spring day.

“I think I forgot something in the car.” Turning on his heels John quickly made his way back to his truck.

The new plan was to leave; that way he didn’t have to share with you. He would deal with the lecture when he got home and probably take you and the kids out for dinner as an apology.

Two steps on to the patio and John felt something solid smack into his back. Then came your arms and legs wrapping around him like a serpent. As you jumped on to his back you tried to snatch the plastic container from John.

“Give me a bite.” You demanded as you clung on to John’s back.

Trying to shake you off wasn’t working and John was scared he would drop the dessert. Placing it on the picnic table he tried to pry you off of him.

“There’s ice cream in the freezer.” John tried to protest. Each time he unwound one of your limbs the others tightened with brutal pressure.

“I don’t want that I want the soft serve.” You had to speak through gritted teeth because John was putting in a lot of effort to get you off of him.

Peeling your limbs off him wasn’t working so John started to shake you off. John tossed your slippers into the yard hoping that would get you off of him but it didn’t. Next came your socks, even tickling your feet didn’t work you only tightened your legs around his waist and lightly bit his shoulder. If John wanted you off of him he could do it easily, he was just scared to hurt you by accident.

“No, I don’t always have to share.” John snapped struggling to get you off of him.

“I pushed your big headed babies out of me! The least you can do is share!” The insult made John’s jaw drop and a shocked gasp leave him.

“You can’t use that every time you don’t get your way.” Hissing the words, John was begining to get fed up with you.

“I made multiple humans and all you had to do was bust a nut! I can use that whenever I want!” You shouted in John’s ear which was his final straw.

“FINE!” John yelled so loud it carried across the yard and echoed into the forest.

He stopped trying to get you off of him and stood there in the middle of the patio seething. You were wrapped around him and waiting a moment to make sure he wasn’t tricking you.

“Yay!” You first let your legs go and dangle a few inches off the ground, your arms were wrapped around John’s neck. Leaving a kiss to his cheek, your mood was like night and day.

John saw you go from a rabid raccoon mauling him to a sweet little thing skipping over and taking his ice cream. You two sat at the picnic table and ate the sweet soft white peaks together. John decided he would eat fast so he could have more than you, but that didn’t work. As soon as he was half way through it you snatched the container from him and told him to stop being stingy. John then had to watch you slowly finish the other half while you babbled on and on about your day. He loved you dearly, but in that moment he didn’t particularly like you.

#john price #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #cod john price #john price mw2 #john price x y/n #john price cod #captain price x reader #john price mw3 #john price call of duty #john price reader #john price x oc #john price x indy #john price x wife #john price x you #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #cap

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imjustabeanie · 3 days ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland Mirror AU

While visiting a flea market (or old book shop), you found 7 beautiful mirrors. They were at a cheap price and could come in handy for gifts or other diy projects so you took them home.

Little did you know, it was the beginning of many chaotic encounters...

Hearslabyul

A heart shaped mirror with a rose on the top. The rose seems to be dripping, the drops meet at the bottom of the mirror. A unique mirror that came to life when you were struggling with homework.

“Who’s on the other side? We can see you clearly. Who are you and why are you spying on us?”

Now, the stern voice surprised you. Turning around you found a red haired stern boy talking to you. After getting over the fact that...there’s someone talking to you from behind the glass, you explained yourself before asking your own questions.

“A world without magic? How curious…how come the connection between the mirrors was made?”

No time to dwell on that, the green haired boy was interrupted by a rather energetic ginger who keeps taking pictures. While the red haired boy was scolding him about taking pictures, two young boys entered the room.

“Hey we found out about the figure behind the glass first! You can’t lock us out”

“Ace slow down and let Riddle take care of it! We don’t know if it’s dangeroud”

That’s how you met the Heartslabyul gang. A very energetic one but strict one. After presenting themselves, you can often find them trying to figure out how the mirror works. After you told them about all the mirrors you have, they presented the other dorms just in case. And on some days…the members rent to you. One even tried to show the mirror on live but was thankfully stopped. We wouldn’t want another Ramshackle incident right? Last time they got close to someone from another world it didn’t end on a good note…

Savanaclaw

A bold mirror where the glass seems to be inside a lion mouth. It came to life while you were taking a nap. You heard a low conversation between two people.

“They don’t seem to be aware of us. Good, I’d rather check this alone. If this proves to be harmless we’ll just cover our mirror and forget about this other world thing”

“I can always sell it if you let me”

Now, you were warned that there are 7 dorms in total. You turn around and look at the mirror.

“You’re aware that I can hear and see you correct?”

“I told you it would be a possibility. While they didn’t react last time I passed by the mirror, I’m not sure why they can see us now”

Time for another explanation from you. Maybe you should ask them to just pass on the information to the other dorms so you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself…unfortunately they declined. Too much bother.

It’s a very chill dorm, they rarely interact with you. As if avoiding a past mistake…

Octavinelle

An oval mirror with tentacles around it reaching a pearl on the side. Pretty ethereal huh? It came to life while you weren’t home. And it’s on purpose. If you hadn’t come early that day, you wouldn’t have caught the eels discussing your interior and azul guessing your personality. I hope you didn’t put it in your room.

At least Azul has the decency to present himself and be civil. Floyd is straight up thinking of a possible nickname and Jade is watching.

“Ah! Forgive the…intrusion. The mirror just light up on our side and we had to investigate”

Your gut instinct tells you it’s not the first time, but let’s not reveal that yet shall we?

The three merfolks definitely keep their distances. First, it won’t benefit them since you can’t give items/pass through the mirror (they tried). Second, Floyd sometimes mentions a human who came from another dimension and they all tense up.

Scarabia

A big and heavy door shaped mirror with a cobra wrapped around it. Definitely expensive if it was sold at its original price. It light up while you were cooking (or eating)

“Hey! Can you hear me? Look Jamil, it’s the person Cater told me about! He said they were from another world and can communicate with us through mirrors”

“Kalim calm down, you don’t know if they’re dangerous. Remember last time, none saw it coming-”

“They’re looking our way!”

Ah, the energetic sunshine and the sly ‘friend’. Kalim was quite eager to get to know you. He’s always welcoming of new friends. Jamil on the other hand was more wary, always trying to drag him away from the mirror.

Yet Kalim always found time to come and tell you about life on the campus. Almost nostalgic.

Pomefiore:

The Evil Queen Mirror but apple shaped. Perhaps I’ll draw them later. It’s heavy and rather regal. You can’t help but check your outfit every time you leave.

Pretty cliché but it came to life while you were hesitating between two items.

“The one on the left would be more fitting. Even if it’s obvious how tired you are, put on some concealer. If I have to look at you every day when you check your outfit at least be more presentable”

“So cold of you! Cut them some slack, they didn’t realize we were watching. Even if they should’ve expected it after the other mirrors talked back…”

Prepare to be judged. Harshly. But at least it’s constructive criticism! Just don’t mention going on a diet. Vil will remind you when you cheat.

Pomefiore is rather peculiar…Rook is the one doing most of the talking. Epel refuses to say anything besides hello and goobye while Vil just gives tips here and there.

“Don’t blame them much, they let in the wrong people in the past”

Ignihyde

A round simple mirror with golden laurel wreath around it. Simple but elegant. You thought the last two would never come to life but this one came while you were struggling in a video game.

“The treasure is on the left! Careful, there’s a monster guarding it”

You turn around and find Ortho watching. He was tinkering with the mirror on their side, trying to understand how it works when he saw you struggling. He did help you out but then a hand dragged him away and covered the mirror.

“Is there even a mute button on this thing…Ortho don’t interact with people from other dimensions”

That was the last thing you heard. Besides some noises from time to time, the mirror stayed silent. Unwilling to open up again.

Diasomnia

A big mirror made of thorns wrapped around it. The glass in the middle is diamond shaped. It’s mysterious for sure. And you clearly accidentally got pricked by thorns while moving it.

This mirror came to life on a stormy night. You clearly got the fright of your life when you woke up to loud rock/metal music coming through it

“Ah! Oh so you’re the human Cater talked about. Nice to meet you and sorry for waking you up. Why am I playing music in the middle of the night? Oh I didn’t notice”

Lies but you don’t need to know. Lilia was doing it on purpose cuz he wanted the mirror to wake up. I mean…Diasomnia was once again the odd one out as their mirror didn’t come to life yet. Malleus didn’t want to involve himself in stories concerning other dimensions again…he and Sebek are the only ones who don’t talk to you. Unless Lilia makes them.

Lilia is very energetic and curious about your world. Him and Rook are the more likely to talk to you in all seven dorms (even heartslabyul are polite but distant). So it’s not uncommon for you to share your life with them while they share theirs. They are very curious about your world and the possibilities to come by…to settle old scores (octavinelle is also interested but they’re busy doing…other things).

In the end, your life got more interesting. There’s always at least one of the mirror that comes to life and none knows why or how to trigger it. Perhaps this future will be brighter.

Credits of the headers goes to @skyesilva24

Some parts are shorter than the rest as I was afraid of making it too ooc. I apologize, it's my first time writing this sort of thing

If you have any asks/idea concerning this feel free to send an ask ^^

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #heartslaybul x reader #savanaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #scarabia x reader #pomefiore x reader #ignihyde x reader #diasomnia x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons

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oceantornadoo · 11 hours ago

Note

I'm ALWAYS thinking about divorced!Price

Mostly about how good he looks with kids

Imagine him play fighting with them, and how he could pick them both up with ease 🫠 one under each arm

Big beefy hands trying to do delicate hair ribbons (and you're DEFINITELY thinking about those hands doing something else...)

That look he gets in his eyes when he sees YOU with his kids, because you're already a much better mother than their own and would you like to be their new mum

In conclusion...I would give this man a million babies

john price x f!reader

This!

And it's not your fault he looks like that during the unofficial base picnic. A practically indecent t-shirt clinging to his biceps as he fiddles with his daughter's hair bow, nodding as she jabbers away in his lap on the picnic bench. The other daughter has stolen his hat, currently shrieking with laughter as he threatens to call Santa if she doesn't give it back. This is your Captain, the man who but a month ago was shooting down terrorists and wiping off his bloodstained hands on his pristine uniform. Who used his own belt, worn and cracked with use, as a tourniquet for your leg in the field last year. Your blood, maroon ink on white snow, surrounding the two of you in a circle as he murmured praises to keep you awake.

And now he's here, finally finished with the bow after fighting it with sunscreen-slick hands.

The younger one, content with the crooked pink bow, sprints towards you, like she's heard your thoughts. Right before she gets to your spot, a sunny one on the woven picnic blanket you brought, she stops suddenly to examine something in the grass. Her pudgy hand grabs at the ground before bounding towards you. "For you." She blinks ocean blue eyes, the same shade as John's, doe-like as she brandishes the daffodil in her hand. "Thank you, miss." You say graciously, smiling wide when she giggles. You go to tuck it between the folds of the book you brought, but she stops you with a grabby hand.

"No! Princess hair!" She pleads, frowning when you don't understand.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't-"

"Here." John cuts off your apology, appearing out of nowhere with his other daughter tucked under his arm like an American football. She squirms out of his grip and into your lap like the most natural thing in the world. John squats and takes the daffodil from your loose grip, callused hand warming yours briefly, before snapping the end of it off to make it shorter. Without asking, he takes your jaw between his fingers and tilts it just so your ear is closer to him. Your Captain tucks the daffodil above your ear, brushing the skin of your cheek softly before releasing you.

"How's that, loves?" The two girls nod furiously, delighted by your princess hair. "Beau-beauteeful." The older one attempts, brows furrowing at the word. John agrees, ruffling her hair by the hat on top of it. "Beautiful." He echoes, voice hoarse as you lock eyes. You open your mouth, to say what you have no idea, and close it before you catch flies.

"Bubbles!" The younger one screeches, seemingly having found Johnny, and the two disappear in a cloud of giggles. "Think this look is standard issue?" You ask with a small smile. "'m not complainin' if you wear it too often." John murmurs, reaching forward until his thumb brushes the delicate petals of the daffodil. You're rendered speechless, leaning into his touch.

"Girls miss havin' a mum who pays attention." He mutters, almost to himself. "Who wouldn't pay attention to them? They're chaotic and darling." You question, in disbelief someone wouldn't want to spend more time with that. "Might need to bring you around more often, then." He rasps, his grip expanding to cover the nape of your neck, giving it a squeeze.

"I'd be amenable to that."

this was not smutty i fear but im just a girl whose PMSing

send more divorced dilf asks i love him your honor

#price #cod 141 #price call of duty #captain john price #price is right #price cod #john price #captain price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #tornadothoughts #john price x you #john price x f!reader

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mayakern · 2 days ago

Note

is there any chance that you will make your skirts in a more durable fabric than polyester? i bought one many years ago and it became pilly and uncomfortable pretty quickly. i would be willing to pay more for a skirt that i know would last a lifetime, or at least 5-10 years. cotton or rayon both have longer lifespans.

i’m sorry you had that experience! i know many of our customers have skirts from us that have lasted them quite a few years. unfortunately, if you got a skirt many years ago, then that was actually from our old manufacturer, which had some quality and consistency issues that started out small and irregular and then snowballed into the reason why we changed factories. our new factory is much more consistent and delivers higher quality sewing using higher quality materials than our previous factory did.

we only started producing thru them in 2022, so i don’t have 10 years worth of history with them to report on, but i do have multiple garments from them that i wear consistently that have worn very well.

also, as for the longevity of a garment—polyester actually lasts considerably longer than cotton or rayon. the reason shein clothing falls apart quickly (or in this case, the reason the specific skirt you got from us pilled so fast 🥲) isn’t because it’s made of polyester, it’s because that specific polyester fabric had low structural integrity, likely due to having lower thread count, meaning there is more space between the individual threads for them to get snagged on things out in the world or in the wash (and older washing machines are particularly bad for this, as agitators cause a lot of friction that destroys clothing).

our new skirts use a much higher threadcount polyester that is not likely to suffer the same fate as that other skirt. similarly, when you go thrifting, you’ll see that a lot of polyester garments from the 80s have survived and done quite well because a good quality poly can basically last forever, but a lot of places these days use the cheapest possible fabric regardless of what type of fabric they’re using which is why clothing falls apart so fast now.

OK but onto the cotton/rayon/etc question for our printed skirts—i actually have an update on this past what is in our FAQ. i would really like to be able to make some printed cotton or viscose skirts and we are trying to work out a way to make this feasible, but there are two main problems: one, the fabric would have to be roll printed, which means either only printing repeating patterns (so no hem design patterns, which are our most popular ones) or switching to rectangle skirts instead of circle skirts (which still may not solve the hem design problem but is a thing we’re looking into; this would also mean the skirts would look different and wouldn’t spin well, but they would still be cute) and two, pricing.

the first issue is really just about problem solving and customer education for us. the second issue is, up to this point, we have had a lot of difficulty trying to sell printed designs on natural fibers because it is unfortunately out of most of our customers’ budgets. because our clothing is made with certified ethical labor, our garments will always cost more than most others, even when we are using polyester instead of natural fibers. and so far we’ve been able to survive that, if only narrowly, because we have wonderful people who love our clothing and can afford the occasional $60 skirt. i don’t know if that will still be true for something more expensive and that’s really scary.

#ask #store #sorry this was so long there was a lot to explain

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bahngarang · 2 days ago

Text

chapter 9.0 ☆ imposter syndrome

ss: 18

wc: 862

cw: food mentions, mentions of physical fighting

a/n: I lost two years of my life trying to edit that photo if it looks bad don't tell me (also the initials l . y are l/n y/n if you're confused)

"okay, okay, hear me out," minji paused, chewing a heroically sized mouthful of pizza, holding her finger up as if to hold her place in the conversation.

it went on for just long enough to be awkward, and yn took a sip of their soda – as if they weren't already stewing in a pool of their own embarrassment at this whole situation. and it was embarrassing, to say the least. how long would it have taken them to get to this point if not for some... some bitch trying to steal their soulmates? honestly, yn thought they would have the opposite reaction to this sort of thing. the other yn – she was pretty, able-bodied from what they could tell, and she seemed remarkably put together. a far cry from their own life. she seemed to be everything yn wanted for their soulmates.

well, except for the fact that she was almost undoubtedly a sasaeng. stray kids' management had gone to great lengths not to show their soul marks, but there had been a few slip-ups over the years, and despite their best efforts, it had come out that the group were soulmates – and that there was one more person included. that came with a lot of failed attempts of stalkers trying their best to convince they boys that they were their soulmate. up until now, it had always been fairly mediocre attempts, and/or easy to see through. it was different this time, almost indistinguishable from yn's own (before the accident).

but apart from that, theoretically, she was perfect for them. and yn... wasn't. but that didn't stop the pit of frustration burning deep in their stomach – frustration at themselves, mostly, at the world, and everything else. although, that last one was the more general ire for living made worse by this whole debacle.

sometimes, privately, yn wondered if it really was just a big coincidence, if they really were their last soulmate. it just felt like they... didn't fit. and, just occasionally, they wished it was that way – although, not really. they didn't know the others, and didn't really know how to feel about them just yet, but the idea of chan being with someone else made yn's chest clench painfully.

"what if," minji started again, "what if you showed up at the company building with like, one of those massive rose bouquets and blasting a sad song on your boombox?"

"well, first of all," yn said, "where are the funds for this rose bouquet? with the price of everything these days, i'm not sure i even have enough for twelve. secondly, a boombox? how old do you think i am? contrary to apparently popular belief, i do not have a boombox. and, you know, i think security wouldn't let me within 50 metres of the building."

"darn."

the quiet clicking of lego pieces broke the silence between the poignant lack of ideas in the brainstorming session. it was difficult, coming up with a way to explain to your best friend that you'd been hiding the fact that you were his last soulmate that made you look least like a buffoon. it was unavoidable, looking like an idiot, but surely there had to be a way too minimize the damage, right?

it wasn't going very well so far.

yn sighed heavily to themselves. any angle you looked at it, it was bad. the problem being self aware was exactly that – being self aware. the second-hand embarrassment at their own actions had suddenly hit them like a freight train early that morning during classes. it had not been a pleasant day, with every free moment spent shrivelling into their own skin in a very visceral reaction. god, it was just... ugh.

the doorbell rung out through their apartment, breaking the spell that had fallen over the three of them. bingus trotted in, complaining loudly at the intrusion. his fur was all scruffed up, indicative of his 47th nap of the day that he'd just been rudely awoken from.

chika furrowed her brows, glancing in the direction of the door. "you got a package coming or something?"

"uhh... not to my knowledge..." bingus jumped up onto yn's lap, circling a few times before climbing up onto their shoulders like a parrot. chika reached over to brush his fur back into place, eliciting a deep, crackly purr as he pushed his face against her hand. "i'll go see who it is..."

yn stood up tentatively, gently supporting bingus's ass so he didn't fall off during the process, before walking over to the door, grabbing the keys off the hook next to it and unlocking it.

"hey," minho said conversationally, like he hadn't just shown up at yn's door unceremoniously.

"hi," yn mumbled, forcing the word out. they couldn't decide where to look, the doorframe taken up by not only minho, but seungmin and hyunjin as well, the other two appearing at least a little more awkward about the situation.

"we know."

< prev ☆ series masterlist ☆ next >

a/n: if you're wondering I do find joy in torturing people with cliff hangers

taglist (30/50): @sunfk88 @estella-novella @boo-ven9eance @0sunshinecryptid0 @idiotmaterial @tearsofgenshin @tirena1 @cowboylikemalika @d3kstar @heyheyitsmk @bangchansgirlsblog @geni-627 @4ng3l-ch1ld @vitaniangel-blog @beppybeesnuggets @yxna-bliss @imeverycliche @brbwritingfanfic @mavischerry @hanniemylovelyquokka @143hyunes @xindremz @wynn-43 @rtyuy1346 @aalexyuuuhm @deuces-sunglasses @maxinehufflepuffprincess @staybabblingbaby @chimmyn0chu @maddy24207

#skz #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz smau #skz social media au #skz texts #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #stray kids social media au #stray kids texts #poly skz x reader #poly skz

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lias-writings · 3 days ago

Text

when the world was at war we kept dacing

warnings: fem!district4!co-mentor!reader, angst, kissing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.) secret!established relationship, no use of y/n as always, hurt/comfort, fluff, crying, usual thg tw like death and violence

summary: finnick is always there to hold you

a/n: guys i have like a ground breaking question, do y’all prefer the smaller font or the one i regularly use ‘cause i can’t decide :( (divider by @anitalenia)

word count: 1.3k

finnick o’dair was your mentor first and when you came back, was so happy. he liked you ever since he saw you at the market in the district four, in your sundress, buying food with the lowest price to feed your family.

he was there for you at all times after you became a victor, wanting to protect you from any ghost of the arena that haunted you. soon enough, love bloomed in between the two of you and there was no way of fighting it.

finnick couldn’t afford a public relationship, not matter how much it hurt him, you two had to keep it a secret between the closest of close friends. he wanted to shout from the top of his lungs that you are the best thing that ever happened to him, but he was more than certain, there would be no more you shortly after.

becoming a mentor, was not an easy task, it came with losses each year, the younger the tributes were, the worse the feeling of guilt and sadness was, but finnick made it less unbearable for you.

this year was exactly the time, when at the reaping you winced your features as the names of the tributes were called by the district four escort, and two children slowly made their way towards her.

a little girl with her hair braided, looked around in fear with teary eyes and no one volunteered for her. you couldn’t really blame anyone, you probably wouldn’t too in the place of a stranger.

finnick hid his pained expression behind the confident, almost cocky mask, shaking the boy’s hand, congratulating him, at getting chosen for an imminent painful death, as if it was such a privilege.

“oh my sweetness, don’t cry, you know there’s nothing we can do.” finnick hushed you, holding your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears strolling down your cheeks as you cried in his arms, the night before the tributes will be released into the arena.

“b-but she’s so..precious.” you pout, looking up at him with desperate wet eyes, begging for him to make it better, to change the undeniable fate of river, the little girl you’ve grown so much to, in the past week. how could you sent her to such cruel death?

“i know, baby, i know.” finnick cooed, kissing your forehead lovingly, trying to comfort you the best he could.

the glasses clinked and you felt sick, nauseous almost, as the bright gowns blinded your poor eyes. sponsors were seated all around the lounge room, drinking, dinning, laughing. celebrating another death of a tribute from lower district.

you stood next to finnick after the brief conversation you had with haymitch abernathy, who was probably the least respected person in the room.

nervously you fidget with the sleeves of your dress, bouncing your knee up and down, not being able to tear your gaze from the big screen that rolled live the happenings in the arena.

finnick saw your anxiety so he gently rubbed your arm as a gesture of comfort remind you that he’s right there with you. the games started about fifteen hours ago, you did not get a blink of an eye shut, making sure your tributes were well and alive.

river was hiding in the trees but she didn’t had any weapon nor food and indigo, the boy, was protecting her, from the branch a little lower clutching a small pocket knife in his hand, eyes sharp, as he maniacally looked around anytime the wind ruffled the grass, just in case it was an enemy.

the hours went by, night crept around and fell over the capitol’s sky line that was visible from the huge windows. the heavy weight of the day downed on you an finnick noticed immediately.

“hey, you should rest. if you want to, we can play it on our tv.” he whispered to you quietly, but all he got was an incoherent mumble as your head rested on his shoulder and pure exhaustion reflected on your features.

“i’m gonna take her upstairs.” finnick said with a false smile to not anyone in particular, but received few nods after excusing himself. the bronze haired boy wrapped his arm around your waist, the other under your knees, picked you up and the carried all the way to the elevator.

when the cabin arrived, with his elbow, finnick pressed the number four, leaning against the glass wall, still holding you tightly to his own body.

“finn..” he heard your weak voice, when your smaller hand tugged on the material of his shirt.

“shh, honey i got you.” he cooed at you, kissing your forehead lightly. here where no one can see you, he could.

“finn, how-”

“they are both okay, sweetheart, just rest, you need it.”

finnick was still holding you, your body was surrounded with his big arms and your legs were tangled together in the soft sheets that didn’t remind him of home what so ever.

his hand was soothingly running up and down your back, wanting to ease any tension you held and his eyes were glued to the screen of the television where caesar flickerman was debating with himself either he preferred last year’s victor or the one before. what a disgusting of a man, finnick thought, his fingers itching for the remote to turn it off, but he did not wanted to miss anything important happening with his tributes. oh, how he wished for the odds to be in their favour.

“how’re they doin’ now?” you ask finnick, taking him out of his thoughts, your voice shaken with sleepiness, as you not so successfully try to open your eyes, rubbing them with the back of your hand, which caused the mascara from yesterday, to smear over your cheeks and eyelids, ruining your always perfect face.

“they’re okay. indigo’s watchin’ over river, he has a knife and some water but they haven’t had anythin’ to eat for so long, sooner or later they’ll have to hunt, go pick some berries or a starvation will take them out.” finnick explained the situation to you, his voice gentle but ragged with exhaustion as he was not yet able to get any of a well deserved sleep.

a sudden wave of calmness washes over you, when you hear that both of the kids are alive, hungry but alive. you nod, once, twice, the motion bunching up the material of finnick’s cotton shirt at the area of his chest and then you feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

“everything’s okay m’ love, you can go back to sleep, i’ll wake you up if anythin’ happens.” he calmed you, his voice as smooth as it could get and you did not understand how in such moments was he able to be calm, comforting and still appear so perfect, even if he was so hurt.

if your lover could read minds he’d tell you that you are the only thing holding him grounded, keeping him sane and making him want to be better, be better for you, to keep you sane back.

“i’m so sorry, my sweet girl.” finnick muttered into your hair as he held you in his lap, rubbing your back and thighs soothingly, trying to ease the emotional pain you were going through.

by the noon of the second day, hungry indigo and even hungrier river went to look for some food, hand in hand, they slowly walked through the forest, but before they got a chance to even consider their opinions, careers tracked them down, and unmercifully killed them.

they died holding each other, just the way they saw you and finnick held each other, when no one else was looking, or at least you thought so.

#lia writes 🌷🛍️#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #thg #finnick x reader #angst

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sturniololuvz · 3 days ago

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Can you do one where the triplets film a video where they take there little sister on a shopping spree at the mall but the whole time she feels bad spending there money when she see the tags on stuff she likes she put them down and changes her mind

“You Deserve This”

“Alright guys,” Chris said to the camera with that signature grin, “today’s video is one we’ve been wanting to do for forever.”

Nick leaned into the frame. “We’re taking our favorite little sister on a shopping spree—at the mall. And before you ask, no, she has no spending limit.”

Matt raised a brow and looked at Y/N. “You ready to go broke on our behalf?”

She laughed softly, standing between them with her hoodie sleeves tucked over her hands. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Nah, today’s all about you, kid. Let’s go.”

⸻

It started out lighthearted—mall music playing, the camera rolling, the boys making jokes as they walked into the first store.

Y/N smiled and looked around, trailing behind them. She picked up a jacket—soft, oversized, her exact style—but the tag made her stomach drop.

$95.

She held it for a second, then quietly folded it and put it back.

Chris didn’t notice at first. He was too busy making a dumb joke with Matt. But Nick did. He watched her do the same thing two more times. A pair of jeans she loved? Back on the shelf. A hoodie with her favorite band on it? Put down the second she saw the price.

He nudged her gently. “Hey. You like that one, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Not worth it.”

Nick frowned. “You sure? You looked excited.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, faking a smile.

But she wasn’t.

By the third store, she’d only grabbed a single pair of socks. Matt noticed, too.

“Yo, why do I have six bags and she’s carrying, like, one thing?”

Chris turned. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

She looked down, embarrassed. “I just… I don’t need anything. It’s your money. I don’t wanna waste it.”

The camera was still recording, but Chris reached over and turned it off without hesitation.

“Forget the video,” he said gently. “Look at me.”

She did—reluctantly.

“You’re not wasting anything. We wanted to do this for you. You never ask for stuff, Y/N. You’ve been working hard, going through so much, and this is just us saying we love you.”

Matt chimed in, softer than usual. “You deserve to treat yourself. Let us do this for you.”

Nick nodded. “We want to. You’re not a burden.”

Her eyes welled up, just a little. She sniffled, then nodded.

“Okay. But I’m not getting socks anymore. I want that jacket.”

Chris grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

⸻

By the end of the day, she had bags on both arms. The video ended with the four of them on the couch, snacks in hand, surrounded by the aftermath of their shopping trip.

“This might be my favorite video ever,” Nick said.

Chris looked at her. “Worth it?”

She smiled—really smiled this time—and leaned her head on Matt’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Worth it.”

⸻

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic

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xiisblogs · 1 day ago

Text

Falling is easy

Pairing: Jonathan Price x Reader is hinted female but just to talk about the misogyny, otherwise the gender is pretty vague

Summary: You and John are childhood sweethearts. John has to join the military at the ripe age of 18 and you tag along, despite your gender and hardships you become the Captain of one of the new task forces, but it all goes south in a mission

Warnings: major character death ,, misogyny ,, happy ending? kinda ,, not exactly canon compliant ,, not proof read

This is part 1 of: The burden of being Captain word count: 9k+

You and John have always been close. Your mothers had known each other since you were seven and your elementary school years were always spent together, especially the hot summers in the countryside.

One thing about you and John was that you would always protect him and he would always protect you. No matter from who, or what, you were always there for each other and your mothers couldn't be more proud.

A heartily giggle escapes your lips every time you remember the incident with Marina. Back then Marina would often tease you and force other children not to play with you, especially when John left the country with his family for weeks at a time, since there would be no one to cover your back.

One of the last days of John's trip with his family, Marina decided to pull your hair. Meanwhile John was excitedly running toward your classroom to surprise you, since he came back early and seeing the scene in front of him made his brain go into overdrive and within two seconds Marina was thrown on the ground.

Least to say, that afternoon was spent in the principal office as your mother coddled you and John's mother shouted and nearly pulled the hairs of Marina's mother. I guess you get where John's behavior comes from.

Being John's best friend was a blessing and he proved it to you countless times, especially when thirteen years old you and John were running in a flower field, your mothers watching from afar with sweet smiles plastered on their faces.

John was trailing after you, playing tag, laughter could be heard, birds chirping, sun shining and boom- You fell, a rock got in your way and before you could process the fall, he was on you, lips on your forehead and checking your feet like the gentleman he was. Your eyes soften, you remember the rush of blood going straight to your cheeks and the way your eyes met. Your knight in shining armor.

The day you turned sixteen, John asked you out on a date. Yeah, a real, big boy and big girl date and you agreed. He picked you up with his most loved and cured horse that you adored so much the next day at dinner time and took you to the finest restaurant in town. Your hands wrapped around his waist, forehead against his back, rosy cheeks, warmth spreading across your body like fire ignited gasoline.

"Scared to lose me? Is that why you're holdin' s'tight?" John tone was playful.. thud, thud, thud.. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'm not- not holdin' you tight" you yelp, a pout finding your lips and your grip on him loosens up. He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, before tightening your hands on his waist.

"Never said I disliked it"

Your ears turn red and you let out a soft hum.

In the end, the date went smoothly, from John helping you down his horse, to pulling your chair and landing a kiss on your right cheek. The cherries on top were the yummy foods that melted on your tongue and your favorite sweet as dessert.

After dinner, it was time for John to take you home. Your happiness still present, but it was slowly running low in the charts, because you were going to miss him once he dropped you off at home. Though, tonight, he surprised you by swaying path and letting you sit in front of him, still holding the reins.

" hm- John- where are you takin' me? dad wants me home after dinner" Your voice a mere whisper, heated cheeks from the perfect date and perhaps for the excitement of what he had in store for you.

" secret " his breath tickled your neck and you were sure that he was grinning from ear to ear.

" our parents are going to kill us, idiot.. " but your tone held no bite; you were as excited as him, and being able to stay with him for more time made you feel fuzzy.

Your back was pressed against his chest as you both rode to the next destination, his breath fanning over your hair and hands very close as you both steered the reins. A comfortable silence fell upon you.

...

A soft gasp leaves your lips as soon as John guides you down the horse, your eyes fixed on the sky.. " they're mesmerizing.. "

John laughs softly at your awe struck tone. You were staring pretty hard at the stars, but how could he blame you? You always rambled about how much you adored them. He knew what he was doing by taking you here on your first date.

"oh my ! you can see my favorite constellation from here , look look !!" your words rushed, tone excited as you turn around to look at John's reaction to the constellation you were pointing at, but instead, you were met with another sight. Blue loving eyes on you.

The world seems to stop in that exact moment. Sparkly eyes looking at adoring ones..

John clicks his tongue on his lower lip and clocks his head to the side, a small smile painting his lips. You understood. Under the starry skies, you both were about to plunge into the abyss.

"…may I?" His voice soft and gentle, like a caress on the wind that teasingly brushed against you. It makes your heart flutter.

"you may.. " Your pupils dilate and your lips crash, it feels like a star is bursting in your stomach. The kiss is soft, but filled with hunger. That type of hunger that leaks of desperation, because finally, after so many years of pining, you're actually his.

When he took you back home, your mother looked at you with a knowing smile, while your dad held his tongue from scraping off the cheeky grin on john's face. After all, he was the perfect son-in-law that any parent could wish for.

From that night onward, your families reunited more often, to chat, or to enjoy their time together, plus, they were already using the titles of in-laws while throwing teasing glances and jokes at the new lovebirds.

Nearly two years pass by since that date and your relationship with him blooms beautifully, despite the childish fights and petty remarks that sometimes bounce around.

Now John is inching closer to his eighteenth birthday and while that would've been a joyful day, dread fills your bones, because war is knocking on your doors and men drafting once they reach legal age is obligatory again. Your heart aches at the thought of being away from John for a prolonged period of time, hell, you couldn't function without him and he couldn't function without you. But it's not like he could run away with you, it would be too cowardly and shame would be bought upon his family name for decades.

The situation trapped you in a train of thoughts. It was like watching a group of hungry wolves eyeing your sheep, but nothing could stop the horrific outcome, nothing could slow it down, nor make it less painful. The realization crushes you as you're hastily driven up a wall with nothing left to do. Maybe you could pray, but would anyone even listen? Probably not.

John was quite aware of the sadness and discomfort you've been showing in the past months, so he made the decision to take you out and gaze at the stars a few days prior to his birthday, because that was your favorite activity and he wants you to be happy.

However, things don't go as planned. The air feels dense, tension builds, and unspoken words bubble up in your throats. Your gaze lingers on his features for an excessive amount of time, and your hug feels suffocating.

What you were trying to do was as clear as day and it stressed John, because why were you, his partner, so dubious of his skills? He'll come out of the war alive, he'll survive to come back home to you. Why can't you understand?

Though, instead of telling you this, he cradles your pitiful face in his warm hands " It's going to be okay " his tone soft, his lips meet your forehead, trying to ease your distress.

How you wish you could just act blissfully and wait for him at home, but a forced enrolment didn't feel right, not in the slightest.

Your tongue is tied inside you mouth. There wasn't much to say and how could you comfort, or reassure him when tears were threatening to spill from your eyes at any given moment?

You wish you could beg him to run away with you, but it would be futile, he would never act like a coward, not tarnish his family reputation.

Unable to keep it in, a soft resigned sigh escapes your lips and a tear rolls down your cheek. " we didn't even get to marry "

You gaze shifts, now you're looking up, his expression a bit detached, your hands grip his shirt as your eyes meet under the same stars that saw your love bloom. " don't go " It's a plea, a tentative to keep him by your side. To be selfish.

" please John, I can't lose you, I can't " your forehead is against his chest, hot angry tears spill, wetting his shirt. No words come out of his mouth. Your tilt your head up, eyes wandering, trying to gauge a reaction, to understand, to search for something, anything- but nothing.

You slowly nod at the heartbreaking silence. Your tight grip on his shirt softens, knuckles turn white as crescents moons form on your palms.

Your gaze is set on the ground, and with a final sigh, you turn away, ready to leave, because leaving is better than being left behind.

" okay.. I'm going home then "

Author note:

This took me ages.. In all honesty, I wanted this chapter to be way longer, but I had to stop and delete the last scene and put it in next chapter. Otherwise I would've stayed here for god knows how long.

This is my first serie after a lot and I'm pretty sure it's going to be the longest one I ever wrote until now.

I would like to thank @pythonmoth for kindly pushing me to write this serie, @miss-vanta-likes-to-write for helping me out and @girl-lostconnection for being supportive <3 I love you bbs

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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valc-cq0 · 11 hours ago

Text

His Duty, Her Desire (2)

Pairing: Bodyguard!OC x Chaebol!F!Idol (Karina, Aespa)

Genre/theme: Slow burn, drama, forbidden romance, hierarchy

Rating: Mature

Word Count: [3202]

Warning: Semi smut content

Part 1

(a/n) Almost 200 likes on Part 1! here's the 2nd part, shit gets crazy here.

If there was one thing Karina did better than anyone else, it was showing up to a party looking like she had absolutely no baggage, emotional or otherwise.

The Seoul Sapphire Gala was the event of the season: a sea of silks, scandal, and secret business deals disguised as flirty conversations over thousand-dollar wine. Karina descended the grand staircase in a silver off-shoulder dress that sparkled like vengeance. Her hair was up, her heels were lethal, and her glare said don’t talk to me unless you own three properties minimum.

Valc, dressed in a black suit tailored like a second skin, stood near the entrance, his job to watch, not speak.

But oh, he watched.

And so did everyone else.

Men whispered. Women stared. Paparazzi drooled behind the velvet rope. Karina soaked it all in like sunlight.

She was going to make him pay.

“You look stunning.” said a tall man in a navy tux, offering Karina a champagne flute.

Karina smiled, lips glossed and venomous. “And you look like my next mistake.”

The man laughed. “I’m Taekwoon. Family owns a hotel chain.”

“Original.” she replied, already bored.

He tried again. “So, are you really dating your bodyguard? Or is that just tabloid fiction?”

Karina tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

She turned, and dragged Taekwoon by the arm toward Valc.

“Bodyguard.” she announced sweetly, “this is Taekwoon. He wants to know if I’m available.”

Valc looked from Taekwoon to Karina, then slowly said, “Are you?”

She raised her brows. “Would it matter?”

“No.” he said evenly. “Not to me.”

“Ouch.”

Taekwoon looked between them, sensing the tension. “I’ll… get us more champagne.”

Karina watched him go, then turned back to Valc, voice like ice. “You didn’t even blink.”

“I blinked.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re radiant.”

Her mouth twitched. “Don’t compliment me when I’m angry at you.”

“Too bad.”

She stared up at him, fire meeting steel. “You want to know the truth?”

“Always.”

“I kissed you because I wanted to. I still want to. But you treat me like I’m some brat with a price tag.”

Valc didn’t flinch. “Because that’s how you act when you’re scared.”

Her breath hitched.

He leaned in slightly. “You push people away before they can leave. I get it.”

She swallowed. “I don’t know how not to.”

He looked down at her. “Then let me stay. You don’t have to be perfect.”

For a moment, the gala vanished. Just them. Her heart pounding, his voice low.

Then—

“Karina?! Oh my god!”

Winter again.

Strutting in with a red dress that clung to her like a threat and a camera crew trailing behind her.

“Didn’t expect you here.” Winter said, eyeing Valc. “Or him. You two still playing bodyguard Barbie?”

Karina smiled tightly. “And you’re still playing second best, I see.”

Winter’s smile dropped half a degree.

“I was just saying how intense your dynamic is.” Winter continued, looking Valc up and down. “Like forbidden love in a trashy drama.”

Karina stepped in. “You’d know all about trash.”

Winter smirked. “Careful, Ji-min. Some of us don’t need a bodyguard to feel powerful.”

Karina’s hand twitched toward her clutch.

Valc stepped between them smoothly. “Ladies.”

Winter rolled her eyes and walked away, but not without brushing a hand along Valc’s shoulder.

Karina’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve cracked marble.

“I hate her.”

Valc looked amused. “I noticed.”

“She touched you.”

“Briefly.”

“She flirted.”

“Also briefly.”

“She wants you.”

He smiled. “She can’t have me.”

Karina blinked. “What?”

Valc leaned close, just enough that only she could hear.

“I’m already yours, whether you admit it or not.”

She stared, cheeks flushing. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is jealousy, princess.”

She shoved him lightly. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It fits.”

“Stop smiling like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know I’m falling for you.”

He didn’t deny it.

And she didn’t walk away.

The news hit Seoul like a wrecking ball dipped in scandal.

[BREAKING] CEO of Yoo Group Allegedly Under Investigation for Insider Trading, Daughter Karina Caught in the Crossfire

Karina read the headline with a blank stare. Her phone buzzed nonstop, calls from lawyers, texts from “concerned” friends, and a particularly annoying voicemail from Winter that simply said: “Karma always delivers, babe.”

She sat in her walk-in closet, legs crossed, dressed in a vintage Chanel shirt two sizes too big for her mood.

Valc stood at the door, arms folded.

“You good?” he asked.

“Do I look good?”

“You look expensive. That’s usually your version of okay.”

She snorted. “They think I knew about it. That I was involved.”

“Were you?”

She shot him a glare. “Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m asking because they’ll ask.”

She looked down, voice small. “I didn’t know. I swear.”

He softened. “I believe you.”

Her eyes lifted to his. “But will the world?”

Valc walked in, sitting beside her on the floor like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Screw the world.”

“I can’t. I’m part of it.”

He nudged her knee with his. “Then we play the game smarter.”

“You say ‘we’ like it’s your problem too.”

“It is. You’re my problem now.”

She blinked. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You need better taste.”

They laughed, until her phone buzzed again. This time, a message from her father's legal team.

She didn’t open it. Just stared.

“What if it’s true?” she whispered. “What if he really did it?”

Valc’s voice was quiet. “Then you don’t let his choices define you.”

“I’m his daughter.”

“You’re more than that.”

“I don’t know how to be.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Start by being Karina. Not the chaebol. Not the scandal. Just… you.”

And for once, she didn’t have a comeback.

Later that day, Valc was summoned by the Yoo family’s head legal advisor, a rat-like man named Mr. Han who smelled like money and threats.

“You’ve been getting too close to Miss Yoo.” Han said, sliding a file across the desk. “Your contract is very clear. No fraternization.”

Valc didn’t flinch. “I’m doing my job.”

“Your job is to protect her body, not her feelings.”

Valc stared him down. “Tell that to your conscience.”

Han sneered. “You’re expendable, Mr. Valc. There’s a hundred men who’d kill for your spot.”

“Maybe. But they wouldn’t die for her.”

Han paused, caught off guard.

Valc stood. “Don’t test me. Or her.”

And he left, heart pounding.

Meanwhile, Karina stood on the balcony of her suite, phone clutched tightly in her hand. Her father had finally called.

His voice was flat. Cold. Business as usual.

“Stay silent. Don’t comment. Don’t cry on camera.”

“Did you do it?” she asked.

A pause.

“That’s not your concern.”

Her chest tightened. “You used my name on some of the assets.”

“You’re a Yoo. Take the fall with grace.”

The call ended.

Karina stared into the city lights, eyes burning.

She turned, and found Valc there, holding two coffees.

He held one out. “Didn’t know if you wanted vanilla or rage-flavored.”

She took it silently. Then said, “He wants me to take the fall.”

Valc stiffened. “What?”

“He used me. My name. My brand. And now he wants me to disappear while he cleans it up.”

Valc stepped closer. “You won’t.”

“You think I have a choice?”

“I know you do.”

She looked at him, truly looked. “What if I ran away? Disappeared? Would you come with me?”

Valc’s answer came too fast.

“Yes.”

She blinked. “You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t need to.”

For a moment, she looked like she might cry.

Then she laughed bitterly. “You’re so stupid.”

“I get that a lot.”

She leaned into him. Not a kiss, just contact. A soft surrender.

“Don’t let me break you.” she whispered.

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

Karina Yoo vanished from Seoul overnight.

No press release. No social media. No staged airport outfit for the paparazzi. Just gone.

The news cycle went wild. Theories ranged from rehab to overseas marriage. Winter did an entire livestream titled “Where in the World is Karina Yoo?” with a smug smile and suspiciously good lighting.

But Karina? She was sitting on the kitchen counter of a countryside villa in Gangwon-do, wrapped in one of Valc’s oversized hoodies and eating ramen straight from the pot.

“Don’t judge me.” she mumbled with noodles hanging from her lips.

Valc leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, amused. “I wasn’t. I’m just wondering if I’ll ever get that hoodie back.”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

She slurped louder.

The villa belonged to one of Valc’s old friends, a former soldier who now raised goats and didn’t ask questions. It was surrounded by pine trees, fog, and total silence. No cameras. No chaos.

Karina hadn’t worn heels in three days.

She hated how much she liked it.

That night, the rain came in hard.

Thunder rolled across the hills like angry drums. Karina stared at the fireplace, curled up on the couch with a blanket and a face mask made of things she found in the fridge.

Valc walked in, towel around his shoulders from the storm. His black shirt clung to him, wet and unfairly flattering.

Karina glanced up. “Did it stop?”

“Nope. You’d drown if you stepped outside.”

“Good. I didn’t pack cute umbrellas.”

He chuckled, sitting across from her. The fire flickered between them, painting his jawline in gold and shadow.

She tilted her head. “Do you miss it?”

“Seoul?”

“Your old life. The soldier stuff. City chaos.”

Valc stared into the fire. “I miss the purpose. But not the politics.”

“Do I count as purpose?”

He looked at her. “You’re my only one right now.”

She felt her heart trip over itself.

“Why haven’t you kissed me again?” she asked, voice quiet.

He blinked. “You said it meant nothing.”

“I lied.”

He breathed in slow. “I know.”

Karina set down the mug. Her voice dropped. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel anything. Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He stood and walked around the couch, each step slow, deliberate. When he stood in front of her, she tilted her chin up, defiant even now.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m wearing your hoodie and I just confessed I like you while eating ramen. If that’s not romance, I don’t know what is.”

He smiled, and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle this time.

It was heat and hunger and frustration from months of back-and-forth, of unsaid things and stupid jealousies and the way her name always sounded different when he said it.

She pulled him closer. He let her take the lead for a second, then flipped the script.

She gasped when he lifted her onto the couch armrest without breaking the kiss.

“Still want to pretend this is nothing?” he murmured against her lips.

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

And he did.

The fire had burned down to glowing coals, casting a soft red hue over the room. Rain tapped gently at the windows now. Karina was curled up under a blanket, one shoulder bare, her legs stretched out across the couch. Valc sat on the floor, his back resting against the couch, eyes staring into the low flames.

“You’re quiet.” she said.

“So are you.”

She nudged his shoulder with her foot. “You always get like this after opening up?”

He glanced at her. “I’m thinking.”

She tilted her head. “About?”

“You. Us.”

Karina didn’t answer right away. Her fingers pulled the blanket tighter.

“You said earlier you didn’t know how to be someone’s anything.” he said. “But you’re already mine. Whether you like it or not.”

She swallowed. “And you?”

He turned to her. “I’m yours. Haven’t you figured that out?”

Karina leaned forward, the blanket slipping, revealing the oversized shirt she’d thrown on after her shower, his, still smelling like him.

“You’re so serious.” she said. “Always looking like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

“Maybe it is.”

She studied his face. “Come here.”

He stood slowly, eyes locked on hers, and sat beside her. She climbed into his lap without asking. The shift in tension was sudden, thick.

Her hands rested on his shoulders. He found her thighs, bare and soft beneath the hem of the shirt.

He spoke first, voice low. “You’re not wearing anything under this.”

“I didn’t feel like it.”

His eyes flicked up to hers. “Karina…”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his. “What?”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

That was it.

He kissed her, deep, no hesitation. She responded instantly, hands threading through his damp hair, bodies pulling closer like gravity took over. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her tighter into him. She gasped against his mouth.

Her voice was breathy. “Take this off.”

He tugged the shirt over her head, eyes raking down her body, not like he was checking her out, but like he was memorizing her.

“You’re beautiful.” he muttered.

Karina rolled her eyes. “Don’t go soft on me.”

“I won't.”

“Good.”

He lifted her again, carrying her to the bedroom. She hooked her legs around him, kissing down his neck, tongue brushing skin.

When they hit the bed, it was a scramble, clothes discarded in a slow, hungry mess. Her mouth found his chest, stomach, skin hot under her lips. He pressed her down, hovering above her, waiting.

She nodded. “Don’t hold back.”

Their bodies met with a deep, shared breath. She gripped the sheets. He cursed softly against her skin. They moved together slowly, tension building, not just from the way he filled her, but from everything unspoken, finally burning out.

Her voice was ragged. The headboard knocked once, twice. She bit her lip to stay quiet, but he leaned down, whispering, “Let me hear you.”

When she came, it was sharp and sudden, breath catching, thighs tightening around him. He followed right after, face buried in her neck, hands gripping her like he didn’t want her slipping away.

For a moment, neither moved. Just the sound of rain and ragged breathing.

Then she turned her head toward him. “You alive?”

“Barely.”

Karina smirked. “You’re not bad for someone who broods all the time.”

“And you’re not bad for a pain in the ass.”

She laughed, soft and real. He pulled her close, their legs tangled.

After a pause, she whispered, “Don’t disappear after this.”

“I won’t.”

She pressed her forehead to his. “Good. Because I think I finally trust you.”

He exhaled. “Took you long enough.”

“You ruined me.” she mumbled.

“You started it.”

“I kissed you in Jeju because I panicked. I kissed you here because I wanted you.”

He turned to face her. “I want you, too.”

She exhaled. “It’s not going to be easy. My name is still poison right now.”

“Then let me be the antidote.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“You’re such a brat.”

She grinned. “And yet, here you are.”

Outside, the storm kept raging.

Inside, so did they.

They were caught.

Not by a spy drone or some high-tech scandal hunter. No, by an ajumma with a sharp eye and a sharper smartphone, on her way to deliver fresh produce to the nearby farmhouse.

She snapped a photo of Valc and Karina outside the villa: barefoot, coffee mugs in hand, laughing like they weren’t fugitives from high society. By nightfall, the photo was everywhere.

[LEAKED] Karina Yoo in Hiding with Mysterious Bodyguard Boyfriend?!

Karina nearly choked on her tea.

“‘Boyfriend?!’” she shrieked, slamming her phone down. “That’s what they go with? Not ‘heiress recovers in peace’ or ‘justice for Karina’? But ‘boyfriend’?!”

Valc didn’t even look up from his crossword. “They’re not wrong.”

She threw a pillow at him. “You’re not helping.”

He caught the pillow midair. “I’m just saying… if the shoe fits.”

Karina narrowed her eyes. “You want me to admit we’re dating?”

“I want you to stop acting like it’s a crime.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know how to be someone’s anything.”

“You’re already mine. Label or not.”

She looked like she might melt, and then she didn’t.

Instead, she scowled. “Fine. But if they camp outside this villa, I’m setting traps. Rat poison. Glitter bombs.”

Valc smirked. “You’re adorable when you plot violence.”

“Don’t patronize me, peasant.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Back in Seoul, chaos bloomed.

Winter was the first to speak out, of course. Her Instagram post read: “Praying for Karina during this tough time. And hoping she finally learns what real love looks like. #blessings #humbleheart”

Karina’s response was simple:

“delete this before I delete you.”

Then came the interview offers. Journalists, magazines, talk shows, everyone wanted Karina’s redemption arc, preferably with tears and a designer fit.

She turned them all down.

Until her father’s lawyer called.

“You’ll need to show your face.” Mr. Han said dryly. “The board is threatening to remove your name from the brand. Public favor matters.”

Karina hung up without replying.

Valc looked at her from the window. “You gonna go back?”

She was quiet.

“You don’t have to,” he said gently.

“Yes, I do.”

He didn’t argue. He just reached for her hand and squeezed it.

A week later, they returned to Seoul.

Karina walked into Yoo Tower in a cream power suit and sharp heels, sunglasses on, face unreadable. Valc trailed behind her, all in black, radiating ‘touch her and die’ energy.

The staff froze.

Whispers bloomed in every hallway.

In the boardroom, Mr. Han looked up, surprised. “You came.”

“I never left.” Karina replied coolly. “You all just got quiet when things got ugly.”

Han cleared his throat. “You’ve caused a stir. People are asking about your… companion.”

Karina arched a brow. “You mean the man who kept me safe when no one else did?”

“Miss Yoo, a scandal—”

“Let me be clear.” she cut in. “I’m not stepping down. I’m not apologizing for something I didn’t do. And I’m not hiding someone who’s risked everything to protect me.”

Han looked rattled. “You’ll destroy your reputation.”

She leaned forward. “Then I’ll build a new one.”

Valc smiled faintly from behind her.

Later, in the lobby, Karina exhaled for the first time in hours. Her heels wobbled.

Valc caught her elbow. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

She looked up. “What if this doesn’t work? What if the whole world turns against me again?”

“Then we burn it all down and start over.”

She laughed, breathless. “You’re crazy.”

“For you? Yeah.”

That night, they attended a quiet rooftop dinner with none other than Ningning, Karina’s younger cousin and chaos incarnate. Ningning was already sipping champagne by the time they arrived.

“Wow,” she said, eyeing Valc. “So you’re the guy Karina’s been ignoring my texts for.”

Valc blinked. “You text her?”

“Hourly.”

Karina groaned. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I like him,” Ningning said, raising a brow. “But if you hurt her, I’ll replace your toothpaste with glue.”

Valc laughed. “Fair.”

Then Ningning leaned in. “But seriously… are you guys together together or just making enemies jealous?”

Karina froze.

Valc looked at her.

A long pause.

Then Karina finally said, “Together.”

Ningning screamed.

(a/n) Part 3 dropping soon, stand by !!

Part 1

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cloveang3l · 2 days ago

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Infinity Nikki - 1.5

Listen i know that most of you won't read this (I'm mainly a DC blog) but I'm just SO UPSET - also I have Infinity Nikki in my profile.

...

Context: I play a game called Infinity Nikki. It is a gacha game centred around the female demographic where you pull for outfits and instead of combat, focus on platforming in the most GORGEOUS open world i have ever played.

This current version (1.5) was meant to do a lot - introduce a major outfit which is FAMOUS in this game franchise that's completely free to craft, a dyeing system that expands the current colour options, and co-op multiplayer that lets us be more lesbian with our fellow stylists! We were also finally getting a steam release!

This was also meant to optimise the game - this game is built on Unreal Engine 5, and mobile + ps5 have been struggling to get good quality, but they've been really consistent with improving the game so far - as a tablet player, the difference is outstanding!

So yeah, everyone was HYPED, especially after 1.4 was... pretty empty.

...

But we can't have nice things, can we?

...

Bugs that make the game shitty for some, unplayable to others.

A complete retcon of the fucking story, replaced by some shitty multiverse that focused more on the LIMITED BANNER OUTFITS than the actual free major outfit of the patch (the sea of stars).

Pointless/invisible pieces added to limited banner outfits, increasing the pity to make it harder to pull outfits.

An extension of the endgame without additional rewards, despite it being the major way for free-to-play players like me earn the currency.

HEAVY MONETISATION - the dyeing system costs a new currency PER PIECE, the prices have been secretly hiked, fake sales which are INSANE and technically illegal, and as I said - more pieces to banner outfits which makes them harder to pull for.

Oh right, and the game is still UNPLAYABLE!

They even nerfed one of the new limited banner outfit abilities (y'know, the one which they made harder to collect) secretly last night, without giving any information in advance.

...

They've fixed some things - the endgame is reset to be twice a month again, and they're doing a lot of bug fixes, but NOTHING to help players log in, nothing to fix the god-awful story retcon. I can't fucking believe it with my own two eyes - this was the patch titled 'No More Empty Promises'!

...

Before anyone comes at me with 'this is just how gacha games are' -NO. I played Wuthering Waves when it released and was hell to run. I played Honkai: Star Rail for two years before I got sick of the meta. I've never seen a game, so built on player trust and care, fuck up SO BADLY.

I never thought that I'd want to quit a game so soon after it launches - but it's been a week with no major compensation except for 30 pulls before going on a five-day vacation. Which the devs deserve of course, but a horrible release date nonetheless.

...

There's so much more that's wrong by the way, but I just NEEDED to say something about this - I love this game, but I HATE it right now.

I thought this game was for girls. I thought this company, while still being shitty anyways, would at least make the game worth the time. I hope to god that I'm still right, and that this isn't the end of me playing it.

...

If anyone wants some good information about what's wrong, watch this (no clickbait, no stupid rage posts, just good, disappointed criticism.)

youtube

#infinity nikki #infinity nikki 1.5 #rant #personal rant #rant post #fashion #nikki games #nikki #nikkiverse #infinikki #girlcott #infinity nikki boycott #infinity nikki girlcott #nikki series #Youtube

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hihhasotherfixations · 3 days ago

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Mutiny - Captain! John Price | Chapter 1

Captain John Price is an officer in the king’s navy, weathered and ready for everything. Pirates, storms, the unending banter of his crew. But when a strange order comes through that splits him from said crew, things take a turn for the worse.

CW: Angst, minor character death, attempts of murder, drowning, coups/mutiny, all the ye olden days pirate violence, eventual Price x reader (but first 3 chapters of the boys being piratey >:3 ), for now this chapter can be standalone

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Word Count: 2425

Water softly rippled against the hull of the boat, a light sheet of rain wetting the deck and causing decreased visibility – even in the already dark night.

All across the ship, small lanterns were lit for those in the crew who were still awake – though most would usually take shelter under the overhangs or sails to avoid getting soaked to the bone.

Amidst the rain, to the back of the ship, Captain John Price slept.

An officer in the king’s navy, he’d sailed the seas for many years; aware of storms, treacherous waters, pirates and much more. With experience, he led his crew aboard the SAS Bravo; his pride and joy.

He knew everything going on on the sea. From sailing, to navigating, to dangers.

Yet when it came to dangers, the one problem there was, always persisted. A lot of them came out of nowhere.

Eyes shooting open, Price scared awake as from the darkness, hands grabbed him. Curling around his wrists, pushing down onto his shoulders, knees and stomach, he barely had a moment to breathe in.

Going to shout, he couldn’t as a rag smelling and tasting of sea salt was forced into his mouth, catching his tongue and forcing it back as around three men dragged him out of bed.

Struggling, he bucked and lashed, his eyes frantic and confused, muffled grunts the only sound he could make as he was shoved to his stomach, held down while his arms were pulled back before painfully being tied with a rope.

Breathing heavily through his nose, his face shoved to the wooden floor of his cabin, he looked back, seeing a single man step up while holding a lantern.

Phillip Graves, his first mate.

The man held a smug smile as he leaned down, Price’s chest heaving as he struggled, biting down on the rag as it was now tied behind his head in a tight knot, causing the fabric to painfully dig into the corners of his mouth.

“Evening, captain.” Graves said, bringing the lantern close and briefly blinding the brunet on the floor.

Squinting his eyes, a lock of hair fell across Price’s brow as he moved away from the light in his face. When the lantern was pulled back a bit, his angry gaze fell on the man leaned over him. The captain wanted to yell and curse, demand what was going on; but he knew it was foolish. Huffing out a breath, he shifted on the wooden floor, trying to sit up but before he could, a hand was placed on his back to keep him down as one of his arms was painfully twisted up.

Moaning in pain, his eyes squeezed shut as one of the men holding him down nearly broke his arm.

“Enough.” Graves ordered and his arm was let go, returning to a normal position where it was tied behind his back. “Get him up.”

Panting, Price felt two men grab him under his armpits, hoisting him to his feet where he now stood, disoriented, confused as the hands kept hold, keeping him standing.

“You must be wondering what is going on, captain.” Graves hummed, hanging the lantern up on a hook connected to the ceiling, casting a general light around the room.

The blond took Price in, the usually well composed captain now standing in mere loose pants and a white cotton shirt, feet bare and hair unkempt.

As Price glared back, he knew Graves’ question was bullshit. The first mate knew what was going on and so did Price, even if he deep down hoped he was so, so wrong, that this was merely a dumb joke his crew was playing.

But that wasn’t the case. “You see, we’ve all collectively come to the conclusion that you’re not leading well, captain. Or- John, I should say.”

Outraged, Price tried to lunge at the blond, kept back by those holding him by the arms as he instead got kicked in the lower back from a third man standing behind him, making him grunt in pain and nearly topple forward, had it not been for the men holding him up.

“Now, now. Calm yourself.” Graves tutted before motioning his head.

Before Price knew it, he was being dragged out of his cabin and onto the deck of the ship.

The steady drizzle that had started in the late afternoon was still ongoing and Price squinted his eyes upon being hit with the sheet of rain, a shiver passing through him.

But as he properly opened his eyes after getting used to the rain a few seconds later, they widened as a violent horror spiralled in his gut, clenching in anxiety.

All across the deck, lay bodies.

Griggs, Vasquez, even Yuri. Just laying there, bleeding into the deck as it got washed away by the rain.

And to the right, lay Gary Sanderson, his helmsman. A sword remained stuck in the man’s chest as he lay splayed over the stairs leading up to the ship’s wheel, his eyes unblinking up at the sky.

“Oh, we meant to clean up.” Graves hummed, evidently disingenuous and Price broke.

Enraged, he kicked the kneecap of the man to his left, making him cry in pain and collapse as it dislocated. Yet before the man had even crumpled, Price headbutted the one to his right, causing him to let go and fall back. Without a second to spare, the dishonoured captain charged shoulder first into Graves.

Slamming into the deck together, Price just yelled from behind his gag, intent on ripping the man to shreds with his teeth. Yet a second later, several hands grabbed him from behind and lifted him up, kicking and cursing as he was dragged off of the first mate.

Without a say, he got punched across the face before he was forced to his knees, rendering his legs useless as the back of his head was grabbed and pulled back, rain flooding onto his face, making breathing harder thanks to the gag.

Grunting in frustration, Graves got up, angry, annoyed and in pain as he clutched his midriff, a satisfaction pouring through Price as he realised he had cracked some ribs in the man.

“You can’t let anything go easy, huh?” The blond gritted out, standing up straight before making a ‘go’ motion with his hand.

Instantly, Price got dragged across the deck.

Panting, he was trying to get a grip with his feet but it was futile, his bare feet just slipping on the wet wood as he was brought over to the side railing before being flung to the right;

Onto the plank.

Shoved on from behind, the edges were close and Price grunted as he shifted to avoid the sides of the plank. The hands retreated and with trouble, the captain got to his knees, having to use his head to sit up.

Glancing back, he saw his own crew gathered around in a circle, Graves in the middle, holding a sword pointed at him.

“In case you didn’t realise it yet, this is a mutiny, Captain Price. We’re revoking your status on this ship and within the king’s navy. You will be stripped of all honour and are hereby sentenced to walk the plank.” He spoke calmly, stepping up to the edge, the sword gleaming as far off, lightning lit up the sky, reflecting on the metal.

Incredulous by everything going on, Price sat there, glancing down the plank at the raging sea.

What had been a gentle rippling of water against the boat’s hull was now a dangerous swishing of waves, white foam swirling with every violent movement of water, the rain going from a drizzle to a storm.

“Up, Price.” Graves ordered and Price looked back at him, his chest heaving. Carefully, he shifted on the plank until he was facing the sea and shifted from his knees up, getting to his feet while his hands remained tied behind his back.

Disgraced, the captain looked back. The crew gathered around Graves had always been those less loyal. The ones more money inclined than a part of the ship. And for that, those that actually were now lay lifeless on the deck.

A mutiny not only to Price himself, but to the integrity of all that he stood for within a crew.

“Walk.”

Glancing down at his first mate, Price then turned to the sea. There was nothing he could do.

Either he died here, on the sword like a spit roasted pig, or he jumped, unable to swim properly with his hands tied. Big chance he would be thrown back into the hull of the ship, cracking bones or his skull before he even had a chance to kick his legs.

Yet even with that prospect, Price knew there was only one way to go. He refused to die at the hands of a traitorous snake like Graves. A man who didn’t even give him the right of last words, simply keeping him gagged and bound as he sent him to a watery death.

No, he’d choose the mercy of the sea he spent two thirds of his life traversing.

With careful steps, he walked to the edge of the plank, looking out at the stormy sea he’d called home for two decades.

Far in the distance, the thunderstorm brewed, getting closer with every gust of wind that ruffled through his clothes and hair. The rain was cold as it fell onto his face in thick droplets, a sensation he welcomed, his eyes dulling as the unease in his stomach swirled.

This was it.

The men loyal to him died quietly and without him even noticing. He was asleep while they were slaughtered like animals.

So maybe it was fitting for him to get a slow, painful death like drowning. He couldn’t call himself their captain anymore, not when he failed in such a way.

Sighing softly through his nose, Price closed his eyes briefly, vaguely hearing Graves and his crew mocking him, telling him to hurry up, to jump already. But the brunet instead focused on the sound of the waves, of the rain hitting the deck, memories of his first time hearing them flashing through him.

Yes. If he were ever to go, the sea was his only choice.

Opening his eyes again, Price stepped back a few paces, biting down on the gag tying his tongue still before abruptly, he ran down the plank and launched himself off.

Graves and the crew jeered and whooped as they watched their captain disappear into the dark blue of the night’s stormy sea.

Hitting the water, a cold shock overcame Price that he was ready for, keeping his breath in his lungs as with all his might, he kicked his feet.

He’d managed to avoid getting dragged and slammed into the ship, but as he tried to swim, his eyes stinging from the salt, the sea dragged him under.

Without his arms, he couldn’t move enough water to get his body moving. Had they been tied in front of him, he could have tried, but behind his back they only worked to catch the current and drag him along.

Still, Price fought.

The muscles in his legs burned as he struggled against the current, seeing the stormy waves crash above on the water’s surface. He was so close, but so far.

Swishing his legs, he felt himself go up, yet right then, he suppressed a gasp, his air running thin as the violent need to breathe crept into his very being.

Salt water stained his tongue thanks to the rag tied around his face, his nose feeling congested as his lungs burned. Everything was too much. The muffled roaring of the waves, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the pain in his body, the cold seeping into his bones, the air escaping his nose in small bubbles that he just couldn’t manage to keep in.

Yet still, he kicked his legs out, face aimed up to the surface, trying desperately to get up. Squeezing all his energy and strength into his legs, he ducked under a wave before rapidly swishing his feet.

Bursting through the surface, he gasped for breath, eyes wide and taking in flecks of water through the gag, causing him to switch to breathing through his nose to avoid coughing. Yet before he properly could, another wave lifted him before crashing back down.

The world spun as Price felt himself get flung around in the water; at the sea’s mercy, like he wanted.

Yet he had vainly hoped it wouldn’t be like this.

Up and down no longer had meaning, his ears unable to distinguish the crashing of waves on the surface with the bubbling of the current.

Exhausted, he once more kicked his legs, not having been able to get enough air in with his brief surfacing, leaving him once again struggling for oxygen. His chest heaved in stutters, desperate to take a breath that he wouldn’t allow himself as he slowly began to drown.

If only he could, he’d-!

He’d…

What would he? Price didn’t know anymore. He got what he wanted, didn’t he? He reached the surface. He got that breath. Looking down, Price couldn’t see anything. The dark ocean loomed below, but it also loomed above and to the sides. He was just floating, no- sinking. An endless nothing where it would just be so much easier to just give in.

His legs didn’t work anymore, exhausted as slowly, the air escaped his lungs, bubbles ripping out from his mouth and up to the surface.

He could just rest and join his crew.

Yes…

Price felt his body give in as he watched his own oxygen rise to the surface, no longer able to fight it.

After a moment, his chest moved up as he sucked in a breath, water rushing past his throat and into his lungs.

It hurt, a lot.

More than it did as a kid when he accidentally stayed under too long. He recalled the sensation of his father yanking him out of the water, remembering the burn of coughing it up. Yet all of that hurt less than it did now as he felt every inch of his lungs fill with the burning salt.

But even that was only temporary as slowly, everything began to turn hazy and black, leaving him with nothing.

Nothing but the feeling of a hand grabbing the back of his shirt’s collar and pulling right as he slipped away.

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