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noira-l · 2 months

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Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #gojo x reader #fluff #tsumiki fushiguro #satoru gojō x reader #masterlist #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #years to come #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt comfort, minors dni

word count: 5k

summary: You, both a member of David's group and one of his former victims, are already contemplating escape when Ellie arrives at the resort. Seeking Ellie, you decide to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to run. But before you can find Ellie, you cross paths with Joel instead.

warnings: age gap, virgin!reader, mentions of past grooming attempt, mentions of cannibalism, past rape attempt, PTSD, blood, canon typical violence, no smut for now, spoilers for s01 e08

a/n: this was previously named let me follow this is also new for me because I've never written virgin!reader before (mostly because i didn't have the best experience with that) but i felt like it was fitting with the story and where i wanna take it in the future.

Revelation 13:3-4 "One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal wound, but the fatal wound had been healed. The whole world was filled with wonder and followed the beast. People worshiped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they also worshiped the beast and asked, 'Who is like the beast? Who can wage war against it?'"

The wind blows cold. You, a girl who has lost everything, sit on your knees on the ice. Your family has been long gone. Your hope dwindles, hanging only by a simple thread. You don't know how long you've been crying. Your hands, young yet covered in the warmth of blood. The scent of pine reaches your nose, and you sniff involuntarily, just like you did before you lost everything. Before the world ended. You hear the sound of men approaching you, and you wish they would just kill you. Sixteen and already you wish for the sweet mercy of death.

“Now what do we have here?” A man speaks, his tone is humorful. Melodic. Your mind and body already slipping and reaching towards the warmth of it. “You poor young thing. Where’s your family, girl?”

When you finally look up from your hands you see a man on a horse. Typical for this day and age. Near him hovers four others. All of them looking weathered and older than you. Your eyes move back to the one that seems in charge. He has strawberry blond hair and a thin beard of the same color. His eyes narrow slightly. They pop under the cold blue sky and the frozen lake. You don’t know what to say. How to answer this man who is an obvious threat.

He hops off the horse, and you attempt to move away but your legs are frozen in place, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage. He kneels next to you. Observing. You swallow, fear coating your tongue with the taste of bile. His eyes soften when he takes in the sight of you. Bruised and wounded. Your eyes squeeze shut as he reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair only for the wind to bring it back.

“No need to be afraid, child. We’re a peaceful group and there are more like us if you want to join.”

“J–Join?” your teeth chatter, your lips hurting as you speak. There’s a bit of light filling the cracks of the iron cage of your heart. Hope. You realize it to be. Hope that you found someone to help you. To look after you in this infected world. He must’ve seen it in your expression because his soft smile grows, eyes glimmering with mirth.

“So afraid,” he hums. “But we’ll change that soon enough. You’ve been brought here for a reason. And I think I know what your purpose is in our small clan.”

He swiftly stands, leaving you dumbfounded and still upon the freezing ice. Your mouth gapes, your body buzzing with a newfound need to stay alive.

“What’s your name?” you ask. He throws an old coat over your shoulders. Not his own. But one he had extra on his horse. Probably taken from someone else who was more unfortunate than you.

“David,” he answers gently, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. Before you reach out, he grabs your hand and lifts you. You nearly fall, only prevented thanks to the strong arm that wraps around your waist. He’s warm. Much warmer than you expected. “Lovely to have you with us.”

The men near him don’t seem to share the same sentiment but you smile all the same.

You don’t want to think for a while. Maybe not even for a millennia. If possible.

10 YEARS LATER

Whispers of death surround you. The names of the fallen circling you and squeezing your heart tight. Suffocated. That’s how you feel. Helpless. Trapped. Consumed. Faint murmurs fill the hall room. The cold that seeps through the wood, the same wood that was intended for summer and not winter, worries everyone, including you. But at the same time, you think this is what you all deserve. An icy grave. Freezing to death and surrendering to the cold.

You were never meant to feel warmth. You know that better now.

The chair creaks next to you and when your eyes shift to the side. You see James taking a seat. A sudden rage fills you. An indescribable rage. It disappears as soon as it appears like it always does. He turns to you and gives you a curt nod. You don’t nod back. He might think he’s looking after you but he’s not. All he’s done is turn the other cheek to a faith that is spewed by a liar. A deceiver. A disgusting man that makes your stomach turn—

The aforementioned man finally stands and clears his throat. Loudly. But not loud enough to overpower Hannah’s cries. She sniffles. Rubs her eyes roughly. Her mother wraps an arm around her and starts whispering words of comfort. You have no idea what that comfort would be since it was her father that had died. You remember the day you lost your parents. You felt utterly defeated at the time. Hopeless. Swallowed by darkness. Your eyes rubbed raw and stinging from crying and crying and crying—

David opens the bible and reads. His glasses are perched innocently above his nose. His voice, despite the rasp of time, still carries that melodic lilt. You don’t listen. Refuse to.

“And I saw a new heaven and a new Earth. For the first heaven and the first Earth were passed away. . .”

You close your eyes with a stuttered breath. Your body is thrumming. Your legs shaking and heart pounding. These are the most painful times for you. The times where you have to listen to him and pretend to be moved by God’s will. You hate hearing his voice. The same voice that told you you were his. The same voice that commanded you to strip for him completely when it was only your arm that was wounded.

Your pulse quickens. Your cheeks grow warm.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

It happened years ago but it doesn’t matter. No matter the passage of time it still feels like it happened yesterday. His touch on your cheek. The way his blue eyes ate you up as he stalked around you, pretending to be worried while he was just taking in the sight of your body. A soft touch here and a soft touch there. Knuckles following the curve of your spine. Palms feeling the weight of your behind. The memory makes you sick. The way he was marinating you for something unspeakable.

He enjoyed when you flinched. Enjoyed the way you whimpered and curled away. He laughed and did nothing else. He wrapped a bandage around your arm while you remained stark naked. Then he left. Leaving it to James to come to the room, telling you to get dressed while averting his eyes.

You jerk, eyes going wide as a sharp cry echoes within the thin walls.

“. . . And I heard a great voice out of heaven say, ‘Behold… the tabernacle of God is with men. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes—’”

He’s trying hard to ignore it. You can tell by the way his lips twitch ever so slightly, his nostrils flaring with annoyance when another cry is heard.

He stops.

And your heart stops along with it.

You’re still afraid even when his anger isn’t directed at you. Cold beads of sweat make you feel clammy and gross. You want to hide. And even though you blame him, you want to move closer to James, hoping that whatever it is that’s going to happen, he can shield you from it.

David turns his gaze towards Hannah and Joyce, Hannah’s mother, and lets out a sigh as if it pains him to see someone so distraught.

“I’ve read this passage too many times,” He walks towards Hannah, his brows slightly furrowed and eyes full of rue. He places the book on the table and removes his glasses, placing it above it. You’re surprised when he kneels but your stomach twists as he places a hand above Hannah’s knee. She’s unaware, her bottom lip trembling. “Do you remember what comes next?”

She shakes her head.

“‘And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes… ‘that there will be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither will there be any more pain… for the former things are passed away.’”

Your eyes move to the crowd. Everyone holding on to one another, eyes red and wet. Hannah takes a sharp inhale, your gaze promptly landing back to the scene.

“Do you know what that means?” She nods and when she does, David grips her shoulder. “Good.”

He exchanges a glance with the mother and stands up, a groan dropping from his lips as he does so. You feel a momentary satisfaction at his discomfort.

“When can we bury him?”

The question surprises everyone, including David who doesn’t show it. The only oddity is him looking at James, a gaze so quick and short that if you hadn’t been sitting next to James you would’ve missed it. “The ground is too cold to dig. We’ll bury your father in the spring.”

Hannah seems content with the answer for now. The sermon is over when David opens the doors. His eyes linger on you as you get up, slow and groggy. Despite her recent loss, you find Hannah to be lucky. At least she had someone to protect her for a good while, her body free of being viewed as an object that belonged to someone else.

You don’t look at either James or David as you leave. Not that it mattered. They were too busy talking amongst each other.

You wipe the snow that catches over your eyelashes with the back of a gloved hand. Everyone had a job to do and yours today was to chop wood in the freezing weather. You hate the feeling of shivering and sweating at the same time. It’s a disgusting feeling. But you were the youngest of the group—and had fallen out of favor with David, which meant that he didn’t try to get into your good graces by giving you the stay-by-the-fire duties. Not that you missed it. You’d rather freeze to death than give any part of yourself to him.

Your feet drag over the snow. Your biceps ache with the added weight of the firewood within your arms. Breathing from your mouth, your eyes are drawn to one of the sheds. That place always gives you the creeps. It’s always locked. The windows dusty and blocked by cabinets from the inside so no one could see. You never thought of asking what the hell was in there, no one else did either. Everyone just wanted to survive. A herd of sheep following the blood-stained mouth of their leader. Not that they knew he had a blood-stained mouth. That information was only reserved for his victims and James.

A log slips from the top and you loudly groan towards the sky. You need to leave this hell hole. You don’t know when. But you have to.

Just as you lean down you sense someone coming towards you at full speed. Jumping, you move back only to see James huffing and puffing with a small package in his hand. You raise a brow. “Weren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you ask, picking up the log. “What the hell are you doing here running like a maniac? ‘Scared the shit out of me.”

“David is at gunpoint.” Good. “And the crazy girl demanded some medicine. Hopefully, I can sneak up on her.”

You scoff, “A girl? Since when does David follow any kind of demand?”

“It’s complicated.” He looks uncomfortable, you must’ve struck a nerve with that. “She’s with the man that killed Alec.”

“You’re taking medicine to her? Actual medicine.”

“David said. . .”

You raise a hand and shoo him away, “Just go. I don’t care.”

Watching him leave, your brows knit tightly together. This had to be a joke, they found the girl and by proxy, the man who killed Alec and. . . David is helping the girl? You don’t necessarily care for revenge— but the fact that he’s actively wanting to show just how kind he is to this girl is suspicion-worthy. He likes what he sees and pulls a curtain over his true colors to obtain it. You know word of this will come out soon. You’re positive that James told at least one person when he went in to get the medicine. It would spread like wildfire.

And most of the people here, starving and cold with no warmth left in their chests are hungry for the heat of revenge.

Just like you had predicted rumors were spiraling.

You’re sitting someplace unnoticeable and near the windows. Snow hits the glass like heavy rain. The clear panels freezing over, you visibly shudder. Your decades-old jacket isn’t enough anymore to keep you warm.

Your head turns with another whisper coming nearby. Something about a girl being with the man who killed Alec. Your eyes shift to Hannah and her mother sitting in the middle, the young girl seemed furious, her eyes hardened but still carried a juvenile chubbiness in her cheeks. The look doesn’t suit her. It looks like a drop of blood on top of snow. No one is touching their food. Steaming bowls of meat sitting on top of weathered tables. You’re not hungry so you push it away. You’re hoping with every fiber in your body that they haven’t found the girl. You wouldn't wish David on even your worst enemy.

The doors open with a loud, bone-chilling creak. You jump at the sound. Soft flakes of snow hurry inside, melting as soon as the light touches them. James holds the door open for David and the latter, with great effort, drags a large stag inside. The entire room stops breathing, their eyes glued to the scene, their minds full of questions.

The door closes. Suddenly you feel trapped and suffocated.

“Big one,” David says, looking towards the tables with a crooked smile. Not even one person is talking now. Just deafening silence. James moves away quickly, his eyes find yours, and takes a seat next to you. You’re not sure why he hovers around you. Maybe in some sick way, he thinks you’re friends?

David sighs loudly, bringing your attention back to him. “If you’ve heard a rumor… yes, we found a girl who was with the man who took Alec from us. When the sun rises, I’ll lead a group out to pick up her trail. Won’t be hard to find in the snow. We’ll follow it to wherever they’re hiding… and we’ll bring that man to justice.”

“You should kill him. You should kill both of them.”

David’s head snaps towards the vengeful voice. Your blood freezes, a tingle settling at the base of your neck, your skin grows taut over your muscles. You’re afraid. And your fear only grows when David stalks towards the girl, a faint smile on his lips, he removes his gloves. One by one. His movements slow, unrushed. He stands in front of Hannah, briefly stares down at her—

You flinch at the sound. The loudest smack and thud you’ve ever heard. Your eyes widen, heart beating in your throat as your eyes remain glued to Hannah who’s scrambling on the floor. David seems unbothered by it. Like he hadn’t just backhanded a young girl. The mom stands, murmurs getting louder, without thinking you attempt to get up too, thinking of all the ways you can kill the man.

But James—fucking James—he stops you with a hand on your knee. You give him a disgusted look and he quickly pulls his hand away. But the damage was done. You settle back, the chair groaning underneath you.

You watch as David halts the mother with a single hand, gently gesturing her to sit back down. She does—she does and it drives you insane. It’s surreal almost. There’s a loud hum in your ears as David kneels next to Hannah, her eyes looking anywhere but him. Scared, she takes David’s offered hand. You feel sick. Your stomach churns, bile rising to your throat. He helps her up and sits her down. He’s still on his knees, his eyes soft.

Disgusting.

“I know you think you don’t have a father anymore. But the truth is, Hannah, you will always have a father. And you will show him respect when he’s speaking.”

Tension rises with his words. You can tell from the brief glances that happen behind David’s back. However, it’s not enough. No one does anything. They just sit and wait as Hannah’s mother brings David a bowl of food. They begin to eat, the rest follows.

Spoons clink. Wind blows. Birds caw.

You look down at the meat, clutching the fork in your hand. You can’t. Something disturbs you. James also lingers before he takes the first bite. Something in his eyes makes you rather starve than taste.

You look back at Hannah. Her bottom lip is trembling, her cheek red.

She eats.

“Where is she?”

David’s eyes glimmer with amusement, his teeth showing as he smiles. You’re out in the open. Snow falling all around you. Your chest squeezes. You can barely breathe, yet your chest continues to rise and fall.

“Is my little lamb jealous?” Heat simmers under your skin. How fucking dare he? “Head back. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell, it doesn’t,” you snap. His eyes narrow and for a brief moment, your mind flashes images of him tying you to the bed whenever you swore. A nasty shiver crawls up your spine. “Let her go.”

“And why would I do that?” he shakes his head. “Do you want to know why I never touched you again? I got bored. I knew I could have you whenever and wherever I wanted. The fire in your eyes died. You had no fight left in you.” he chuckles. You’re trembling now, your legs feeling weak underneath you. “And I enjoyed seeing the fear in your eyes whenever I entered the room. . . wondering. . . thinking about when I would finally make you my own.”

You don’t know what to say. The snowfall picks up in pace. Hurling, dancing around you both. A sign of a storm. The cold kisses your cheeks. David grins and extends his arms towards the sky, you take a step back.

“I finally found myself a pet that’s fun to play with. Someone that won’t be so easily broken.”

Broken. Broken. Broken.

That’s what you are, isn’t it? Broken. Alone. Unwanted.

You have to get to the girl and get the hell out of here.

You lift your chin, “You’re sick.”

Bad move. His nostrils flare with anger as he grips your chin and forcefully brings you closer to his face. As someone who went on and on about you being too submissive for his liking, he sure as hell seems to hate that you’re defying him.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me,” he spits, squeezing your jaw until your lips part with a whimper. “I'm the one who saved you and spared you. I’m a good man but never forget that you belong to me.” Without hesitation, he cups you between your legs. You stiffen at the touch, fear chills your skin, feeling little pins needling into your muscles. “You’re mine to break and when I do, you'll love it. And you'll finally be a woman.”

He doesn’t linger. Leaving you, he disappears between the cabins. You collapse to the snow, shaking, trembling and tears flooding your eyes. You fist at the snow, your fingers becoming numb as it melts between your fingers. You were a fool to think that you were safe. You genuinely thought that after so long he’d let you do your own thing within the community. But no. He still had his eyes on the “prize”.

You want to run into the forest but you can’t. Your eyes fall to the ground where his footsteps are perfectly visible. Now you know where the girl is.

The door that is always locked is open.

Your brows knit together as you observe the old wood swaying back and forth due to the wind. Your skin is icy cold. Coming closer you see that the lock had been broken, shattered. You see a spray of blood on the snow and that entices you to take a step forward into the dark cabin. You know you shouldn’t be taking any detours. Your backpack is secured tightly against your back filled with essentials and some sentimental items you gathered during the years. You should go. But you’re curious. You have to know what’s been in this shed for all these years.

You sigh. Curiosity killed the cat.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you murmur.

You pull out your gun, your finger on the trigger as you explore. It seems pretty standard. Some items, lots of dust—

Two large hands shove you roughly against the wall. You choke, all the air leaving your lungs as your gun is knocked out of your hand. Momentarily you’re pulled away and slammed back against the wall again, this time the back of your head thudding against the wood. You groan in pain. Your body screaming at you to run and hide.

“Where is she?” you hear a man hiss through gritted teeth. “Where the fuck is she?”

You’re slammed once more, tears prick the corner of your eyes and you barely manage to raise your hands.

When you finally manage to open your eyes, panting heavily, you see a disheveled man. At first glance, he doesn’t make you feel that you’re in danger—which is an ironic feeling considering the throbbing at the back of your head is his doing. Lines run across his face, his eyes full of worry and anger. You immediately know who he is. There was only one girl after all.

“You’re—” you swallow. “You’re him.”

His hand tightens around your throat and a gun is hastily pressed against your forehead, “Tell me where she is or I’m shootin’ you.”

“I’m actually trying to find her myself,” you answer, which by the looks of it was the wrong this to say. “I—I wanted to help her. Free her. David. . . the man that took her—he’s a monster.”

His eyes narrow, “You from this community?”

“He took me in when I was sixteen,” you explain. “I had no choice but to join.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because I know exactly where she is,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “And I know that you’re hurt. I can help.”

“Then what?”

You shake your head, not understanding. He clarifies. “You help me and then what? What’s the catch?”

Your eyes blur with tears. You’re just so fucking tired.

“I just want to leave.”

Something about the way you whisper must’ve wake something in him because he lets you go. He lights the flashlight. “I ain’t in the business of takin’ in strays.”

What? “What?”

“Just leave. I don’t need your help.”

“You—You don’t understand!” Just as he turns you jump towards him, fisting the back of his jacket, the fabric isn’t soft enough for you to get a good grip on him so you grab his shoulder instead. “He’s a monster! Everyone fucking underestimates him—he’ll—he’ll—!”

He stills. Rushed steps coming to a halt. You think he’s going to shove you off, push you away but he’s glued. With the fear of silence, you pull back and step to the side. He’s still not acknowledging you. His hard gaze glued to where the flashlight is illuminating. You follow the light speckled with dust. Horror curling in your stomach like a hook.

There are three of them. Three bodies hanging like animals being prepared to cut into pieces.

“Oh god—”

You bring your hands to your head, your heart ramming into your chest, you shake your head. “No, no, no, no—” You take a step back. The man rips his gaze away from the bodies, away from what it implies. You take another step back and another. You’re shaking, your eyes glued to the floor. He—David—he fed you people.

Fucking people. People that you knew.

Finally, the scent hits you. The smell of flesh and blood.

You scream.

The man is on you in an instant, you tumble to the ground and he goes down with you willingly. “Shit—no no no. Shut the hell up— shut the hell up.”

The knot that forms in your throat is large and uncomfortable. You bawl your eyes out, hiccuping against his chest. He takes you into his arms and you can’t be bothered to think of the why of his actions. His biceps tighten around you. You’re still shouting, still thrashing around, crying—he presses you further into his chest, muffling your sounds. You vaguely hear him shushing you, telling you it’s gonna be alright. Lies. He’s telling you lies.

You start to quiet down and only then do you begin to make sense of his words. He’s murmuring bits of his life. Of what he’s seen. You finally learn the name of the girl: Ellie. The thick baritone of his voice is like a melody. It soothes you. Maybe not fully. But it helps calm your raging heart. You breathe. He smells like wood and snow.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, pulling away. “Please let me help you.”

“Yeah—Yeah, you can help.” He guides you to your feet in a way that your back is turned to the bodies. Just the thought of what's behind you makes your lungs cave in.

“What’s your name?” you ask, desperate for any kind of distraction.

“Joel.”

“Alright, Joel,” you head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

She escaped.

You can’t help but be impressed at the sight of an empty cell. But the pride for a girl you haven’t officially met dies in your throat when you see who’s against the wall, covered in blood.

“You knew him?” Joel asks, his tone lacking any kind of grief. A question asked more so as a courtesy than actual worry.

You stare at him. His blue eyes now lifeless, lips parted. It almost looks like he’s sitting, just taking a rest on the cold floor. It would be easy to make you believe that if it wasn’t for the cleaver sticking out of his neck.

“No,” you answer dryly. Yet, you still walk to the dead man and gently close his eyes. You warned him this would happen. Joel doesn’t ask any more questions. He doesn’t have to. “We need to find her before David gets to her.”

Joel immediately rushes out, you following him close by. You feel utterly useless. You have no idea where Ellie might’ve run off to. It doesn’t help that some part of your brain is still occupied with James. You hated him in a way but still, he was there. You’ve known him nearly your entire life. It felt off to be the one to close his eyes.

The storm had stopped. The sun reflecting from the snow irritating your eyes. Joel seems to be getting irritated with every step. Desperate.

He’s the one that sees her first.

Ellie staggers out the large building currently being engulfed in flames. Her walk is uncoordinated, her steps uneven as she breathes in the icy air. Before you can warn Joel not to startle her, he’s already running, grabbing her by the shoulders. Your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces when you hear her screams and shouts.

“It’s me,” Joel says, cradling her face with both hands. She hits his chest with sideway fists, he holds her more firmly. “It’s me.”

You see it in her face, the exact moment she realizes. You see blood splattered across her face, her expression hurts you. It’s the same expression you’ve seen on yourself for years.

“Hey… look. It’s me… It’s me. It’s okay.”

She mumbles, “He—” Before Ellie can complete the sentence she wraps her thin arms around Joel, the man hugs her tight. Your heart shatters then. The damns you were so adamant on keeping locked being teared down by people you barely know.

You cry. Salty tears just bursting out of your eyes. There’s no slow build, no single tear and then the rest. It just all comes down flooding. Your shoulders sag, your fingertips numb.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”

You sniff and look up to the sky. Fuck. It’s so hard to stop when it begins. You see grey smoke rising into the crisp air. He’s dead. You don’t need to see the body to know that he is.

Your eyes drop to the two survivors embracing infront of you. That girl saved your life while you were trying to save hers. You were too late. Both of you were. She looked the beast in the eye and slayed it. Freeing you.

They part and Joel quickly wraps his jacket around her tiny trembling shoulders. You’re empty. What now? That was his question. You don’t know. Do you go back? Do you explain to the people who David manipulated just how horrendous he really was? Would they believe you?

Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of movement. Joel is looking straight at you. Ellie still unaware of your presence and you can’t blame her.

You’re lost.

But then his eyes soften with something akin to understanding and he gestures you to follow.

Like a lamb to a stream, you do.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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saradika · 1 year

Text

— BLEED FOR ME | part iv

[masterlist]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 4k

haunted hoedown: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+2 secrets!)

tags: vampire!au, drinking blood, reader has scar on shoulder, shared memories, light angst, din is dracula (castlevania)-coded, realizations and confessions, flash-backs/multiple pov, canon-typical violence and death, revenge

a/n: a massive and heartfelt thank you to @friskynotebook and @againstacecilia who beta’d this chapter and helped me out - you are the best! 🥺💕

It's all white noise. Her voice fading out to nothing, as the word repeats in your mind.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You think you mumble an excuse. Her hand outstretched, expression worried as you turn - dazed. A tightness in your chest, leaving her sitting as the panic rises, as you all but flee the room.

It's muscle memory that gets you to your room. Your back pressing against the heavy wooden door, as if that alone could keep you safe.

You couldn't be his mate. His soulmate.

There wasn't a mark. The skin on your wrist is bare - that spot of first contact. Where he had touched the night you had arrived, before pulling you to his mouth.

You'd have noticed if his palm bore marks when it had curled around, for they would be reflected on yours, too.

This much you know, at least.

Soulmates were an ancient magic that even the humans knew. Growing more rare, as the years passed. As wars raged and couples were split before they were ever joined.

Your grandparents were soulmates. A chance meeting at a market. Fingers clasped in greeting - the shock when they came back different. Changed, forever.

You used to pull their hands into your laps - to trace the matching, mirrored marks on their skin, when you were a child. Filled with silent thoughts about how lucky they were, to have found each other.

They had been happy.

But how could you be, after everything?

Fennec must be wrong. Perhaps vampire mates were different.

Perhaps it was just the name of your partnership. Perhaps the time that had passed had made you mates of some kind, enough of your blood shared to forge some sort of lasting connection.

You cling to this denial like it's some form of salvation. Of protection.

Time passes, and your breathing slows. You lean into these thoughts. How would Fennec know, if even you didn't? Yes, it had to be no more than a misunderstanding.

If he was really your mate, there'd be a sign. He never would have wanted to hurt you.

But deep, deep down - you know that there's something.

A reason you hadn't felt that urge to flee, when you first saw him. How your hand has stayed, when you could have finished things. Why you can't keep him out of your thoughts and mind.

Why you've softened. It had felt so natural, like winter changing into spring. Something tender blooming in your chest, in spite of the frost.

It frightens you.

There's not much time to contemplate further, before you hear the sounds of boots on stairs. The gait one you've come to know - something sharp and acidic spiking in your chest as you push yourself up.

Rushing across the room to wrench the drawer open - the scrolls scattering across the floor as you rip the hidden dagger and stake free. Holding them defensively against your chest, just as the door opens.

He's there.

It's as if he only just arrived - boots still splattered with mud. His armor streaked with weathered grime and a weariness in the way his forearm braces against the doorframe.

"Cyar'ika." Din rasps, "I'm sorry, I didn't want-"

The words peter off. He seems unsurprised to see you armed, as if his only thoughts are of you. Not what you hold, what you've been hiding.

A long second as he considers something - before his hands are lifting to his helmet. Palms pressing against the curved metal, until it's lifting from his head.

You can't look away, in spite of your distress.

He's achingly handsome, beneath. A puzzle, finally completed with the full curve of his nose. The shape of his cheekbones, where dark hair curls above. And his eyes.

Eyes that seem familiar, eyes that you've seen before-

Finishing his thought, his gaze a heavy weight, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

Your head shakes, "You can't be. We haven't, there isn't a mark-"

He takes a cautious step forward, and you take a large one back. Your hip colliding painfully on the edge of the desk, the chair scraping against the floor as you try to move away from him.

"There is a mark." Din's fingers lift, finding the fastenings of his armor - those maroon eyes still fixed on your face.

Removing his gloves, his gauntlets. Unlatching his shoulder plate, leaving them to rest on the ottoman. Pulling at the knots that attach his sleeves to the tunic beneath.

Baring his shoulder.

He wears a scar like yours. The one that you had gotten that day - when you had thought it had been from when you fell. Patched up with magic, before you had awoken.

It’s a reflection from what you're used to looking down and seeing, curving up his bicep. A smaller, splotchy shape next to it.

It's familiar. You've seen the shape before, etched into the silver pauldron he wears. The design is stylized, but it’s there - you’re not sure how you missed it, before.

"When?" You whisper, eyes fixed on the curve of muscle and skin.

"That morning you've been thinking of." He answers. His voice is different without his mask. Softer, still rich in tone, "When I feed. You go back to it so often."

It twists your stomach, turning you stone-still.

It was real, it was real, it was real-

"Why did you do it?" Your voice breaks over the words, "That town. My home-"

He takes another step closer, and you react like a feral cat. Spitting and hissing to keep away from him, that dagger brandished like a sword. His face is all angles and shadows, sorrow and confusion and so matching yours.

"I was there to help. I was there for you."

Your head shakes, not understanding, "No. You started the fire in the inn. They told me you killed all those people, that vampires ripped apart the houses-"

Nothing was making sense.

"I am strong, but not that strong cyare." His head shakes, "If I wanted to, I could have hurt the townspeople. But there's no reason for me to. I’d never-”

His expression changes into something that tips towards self-loathing, as his words halt. The next comes more slowly.

"I was there, looking for you. I had sensed something when I was nearby-" Din's head shakes, "Your heart. I could hear it. I wanted to see what you were."

Your grip on the stake loosens, drawn in by his words. Another proof of your connection.

"I stayed in the village for two days." He sighs, "And then, I saw you in the marketplace. You were so beautiful and so happy, and it became so clear that this was your home. So I left, instead."

As he moves, there's a clear shot through the doorway. A few minutes ago you would have bolted, but now - now, you find yourself sinking into the chair. Back where this all began.

Remembering that prickle, the hairs on your neck rising, those days before. That feeling of being watched. Nothing more than a brushed-aside moment.

"I left that night. But then, I found myself called back." His eyes fix on yours then - bright, in spite of the long hours away, the days without eating, "I heard your fear and I came."

It feels like you're seeing, for the first time. Bits and pieces through a filtered lens, slowly coming together. But still blurry, enough out of focus that you still can't see the subject.

But how could his story be true? They had warned you not to trust him, didn't they?

You had spent a year fighting with your anger and your grief. You had braved the journey here and lived among the vampires for weeks. All with one goal in mind, and to hear that you've had it wrong is-

It leaves you adrift. A moment where you're more unsure that ever, even though you know more than you ever did.

But deep down, you realize you want to trust him. To believe that he was as good as he seemed. As just - a true ruler, that the way he’s treated you wasn’t simply a ruse.

That he hasn't been playing with you, feigning that kindness for all these weeks.

But where did that leave you? Who could you believe?

"I wish that was true." Your head shakes, voice no more than a whisper, "I really do, Din."

He's silent for a long moment. The creak of his gloves as they curl into fists, as you're both left to your own thoughts. Yours tug at you - curling around your legs, threatening to pull you under and into the abyss.

"I could show you." Din offers, then.

“I could show you what I remember."

His hand extends then, palm facing upright. Reaching out for you to take.

You stare at it for a long moment. Gaze flitting to his shoulder. Across the mark, up the curve of his shoulder, to his face.

"You can see for yourself." He coaxes, and you're able to look into his eyes this time.

To truly see, like you had tried to, so many times before. They're clear, and sorrow swims in them.

Not a monster. Not lying.

You can see for yourself.

Your eyes drop back down to his outstretched hand. And after a long moment… you reach out and take it.

With a jerk of his arm, he pulls you close.

And then - he's biting down.

There's a hunger. A deep ache that gnaws at your bones. You don't know how someone can live like this. Your limited vision filtered through shades of greys and reds and browns.

A flinch as you shield away from the rising sun, even through your layers. It curls into your joints, searing the thin sliver of skin at your neck as you crouch.

Something like an echo rattling through you, as the ground flickers beneath your feet. Faster than you've moved before, the smoke and the buildings and the flames distorting as they suddenly loom into view.

The growl that rips from your throat comes from deep in your chest. It's jagged against your teeth as your senses heighten, as you move through the streets on pure instinct.

Ducking into the shadows as they pass by, in their leathers and the dark cloaks and the strings of garlic that you can smell from here.

If there wasn't such a tugging in your chest you'd wonder at their appearance. The pure coincidence of this convergence. But there's no time, not now.

Time skips, and then you're crouching down. The human that you had watched, now slumped against the low stone fence.

Rubble strewn around her, scattered beneath the collapsed overhand she had tried to dart beneath - just barely making it to the other side.

Skin sticky and red at the temple and the sight of it makes your stomach clench. An urge to catch the drip with your finger, to bring it between your lips and see if it tastes as sweet as you know it does, deep down.

Instead, your hand reaches out - curling around her bare shoulder. Your touch like a brand, as your body flushes with heat.

So strange, with how cold your skin has become. For a second you almost feel as you used to - watching as the the shade of her skin changes before your eyes.

As the small curls of thought in your mind suddenly flourish. That reason you can been drawn, why her pulse had seemed to call to you.

Your chest aches. Again, you wish for more time.

There's none right now. It's easy to lift them, with the strength that came with your transformation. Her head lolling against your shoulder, cheek pressing to the beskar of your chestplate.

Right above your still heart.

Shoulders curl inwards to shield her from the heat as you move through the wooden arch, the beams above in flame.

It licks at you, almost causing you to stumble. Only determination keeps you afoot. Just enough to get you out - down the path again, and into the forest.

You've become fiercely protective.

Something had lingered after your eyes had first landed, but that small spark is nothing compared to the inferno that rages, now.

It takes all your strength to leave her there, in the grove. Where she's safe - the trees so old and twisting and the weeping branches so thick that surely, she'd be undetected.

But it's not all you must do.

Another flicker of images, passing so quickly you can’t catch them.

Bodies in the streets. Homes collapsed, caved in as if struck by a canon. Left shattered, in ruins.

There’s an echoing shout, a shadow as you flit back in between buildings, looking for any survivors.

A weight in your chest at this sight, repeated far too often. Your heart was too tender before now to tear this thorn bush out at the root.

But town is small, and there are none left. Everyone who could had already fled, and those behind were now gone. Left to linger as ghosts, or to move on.

Another flicker, another small leap in time.

A shadow that you don't see, as you move through down the main road. A pain like you've never known erupting in the small space between your pauldron and the curve of your gauntlet.

So close to your new mark that you're striking out, snarling. Your arm weighed down from the slice from the silver dagger - if you had blood to spill your clothes would be stained with crimson.

A stranger looms in front of you now. Flanked by another. Torches in their hand - the glint of the dagger catching in the light, stained with a black ichor from where it bit into your skin.

The second, smaller - hands wrapped around an ancient, gnarled staff.

Vampire Slayers. You can smell their stench. The acrid taste of magic on your tongue, something you ignored in your search.

“We knew you'd come."

The whisper is low, taunting.

“You always do.”

Fury licks at you. Giving you the strength to draw your blade, the black sword a heavy weigh in your hand. A growl in your throat as you lunge at the first - the dagger held in two hands as it collides with your downward swing.

Another, and then another.

The ache is ignored with your dance, the slow circling of footsteps. The second Slayer murmurs an incantation, but is battered away by the first.

“I shall do this." She hisses, with the turn of her head.

The distraction is all you need - a hand fisting in her robes, the sound of ripping cloth. A burst of strength to pull them forward, as your blade pushes in, and then sweeps.

With a rattling gasp, her cloven body crumples.

Your vision swims then - blooming with a light that arcs across the cobbled street, all but blinding you.

Flames burn against your chest, with the collision of the blast. Your armor takes the brunt, as you shake it off. The tilt of your helmet as you face the witch - a step as your blade rises, ready to strike again.

She flees, then. With another swoop of her hand as words slip from her tongue. Bringing the building down, blocking the path with fallen stone and wooden beams.

Trapping you on the other side of the town. Amongst the ruins and the lives that had been ripped apart, in their quest to hunt you down.

Your thoughts swirl, as the edges of your vision go hazy.

It's calculated. It's too much.

There's too many - their footsteps overlapping as they circle around to box you in.

At your full strength you'd survive a battle like this - but even as your grip adjusts on the hilt, you know you can't last under the rising sun and with the burn of the silver.

You can't save them all, but you can save her. Your mate, someone you never thought existed, and now. And now-

You have to.

It's a promise, an sworn oath that sears into your skin. You'll come back-

But when you do... she's gone.

The stake and the dagger clatter to the floor.

It's more than you've ever processed. It leaves you weak, wobbly-limbed when he pulls back. An arm curls around your waist as he holds you against his chest, your fingers clinging onto his armor for support.

You see him in a new light. It’s clear now, you had watched that mark bloom across your own skin.

Captured by the swirl of emotions at the end, that desperation - the way it courses through you like an echo. There had been no animosity towards you, in his thoughts. Only... only...

But something eclipses this tender realization - another repetition, a tightness in your chest as you piece things together. Dread creeping in as the last missing piece clicks into place.

Because you knew those whispers. The tones had been in your own ears, those weeks ago. You knew the faces, the ones that flickered in and out of frame as Din had slipped from the city.

The witch. She had trained you. Had told you she passed down all she knew about the monster that had slain their sister.

"It was them," You breathe. "All along."

"Yes." He answers, simply.

Your eyes drop to the mark on his shoulder. Fingers tracing the edge, before they tug at where the fabric pools - revealing the edge of the swooping scar above his elbow. A deep mark, carved into knitted flesh. A final assurance.

"They told me..." The weight grows heavier, the words hard to speak, "They told me it was you. For over a year they told me all the awful things you did."

The fury that courses through you has you trembling - a firm hand guides you to the edge of the bed, letting you collapse against it.

They had been wrong. They had lied.

It leaves you wondering - just how far did those lies go? Your chest is tight as you suck in a breath, preparing to ask the question with an answer you’re afraid to know.

But you must.

“They said they knew you’d come.” You try to make your voice sound firm. It comes out quiet, in the silent room, “Do you think they knew I was your mate?”

Did they know, and yet still they convinced you? Twisting you, when it became clear you didn’t remember? The thought was cruel, something truly vile.

“No. We are more alike than you know.” His voice is hard, a grit of his jaw, “I am a foundling. I lost my parents to raiders when I was young. Brought up by the Mandalorians, before I was changed.”

You breathe out a sound of sympathy, some of your anger waning at his words. The thought of his loss, how it still so clings to him.

“I wasn’t always a good man, but swore that I would protect others when I became the Mand’alor.”

His words grow quiet, “They used that against me. They must have known I was there, and tried to draw me out. You were just caught in the middle. I am sorry.”

Your head shakes.

It’s not his fault. It’s not yours, either.

“We were both manipulated.”

His head turns, his eyes meetings yours for a long moment. There’s a slow nod of his head, the creak of leather and armor as he shifts, as you make room on the bed next to you.

He close now, enough that you can see the fan of his dark lashes as his eyes shut. A deep inhale, taken by instinct and habit, before they open again.

"I searched for you. For a long time. I just needed to know that you were safe.” Din’s jaw works, lost in thought, “But I wasn't able to track you down.”

Before he’s exhaling that sharp breath - coming back, “It was Fennec’s idea to announce that I was looking for a Companion. She picked people from the area, trying to find out news. I never realized-"

Never realized you had been with them, until your memories flickered in his mind.

"We were hidden." Your words are hollow - remembering the days spent travelling.

They had told you that it was for safety. Incantations murmured to keep the caves and abandoned houses near invisible. Always on the move, never staying for too long.

Sacrifices made for the greater good. They had told you, knowingly. You had thought it meant their lifestyle. The crushing weight of revenge, the awareness of what you must do.

Never telling you just how deep that went. How far they were willing to go to rid the world of their own perceived evil.

Unnatural and vile creatures of the undead, in their eyes. The sacrifice of a few was worth it, to take down a creature with infinite lifetimes. But with their obsession, their hands had become soaked in red. Swimming in it. Drowning.

They'd tried to make you kill the other half of your soul.

And you would have destroyed others with it. Ones that had treated you with nothing but kindness, Boba and Fennec and-

"Din." Your eyes are bright, meeting his. Tears of anger pricking at the betrayal - the force of their actions finally sinking in, "They told me to kill you. I almost did, I wanted to-"

He makes a soothing sound, "It wasn't your fault."

"But what if I had? You're my mate, what if-" The full force of the lies are hitting you now, panic rising in your chest at the thought of the loss.

He had looked for you. He had saved you. Din was your soulmate, and in your anger you had almost-

"Cyare," His voice grows firm, "Your thoughts are so open. I could not make sense of your memories until recently, but I could always feel your doubt."

He absolves you, as he reaches for your hand. Your own fingers curling around, entwining in a perfect fit.

“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

His words, his touch, brings comfort. Your grip tightens in his and he meets it with the sweeping of his thumb over your skin. Soothing you, like he always had.

Leaving you both to your thoughts, for a moment longer. For you to focus on the weight in your heart, with just how deeply you have been fooled. As the anger begins to fester, in your long-opened wound. Poisoned down to the marrow.

He had known the beginning, but you knew the end. And together, as the pieces weave together - you think you finally understand.

That picture of deception, now crystal clear.

And you finally believe.

“What happens now?” You hear yourself ask.

Where do you go, from here? Is it too late to start again?

His hand slips from yours, as he stands. The look he gives you is long and solemn, as if he’s committing every detail of your face to memory.

“Now?” Din rasps, a sharp edge to his voice, “Now, I keep you safe. I should have left already.”

He looms above you now, as your hands press against the bedspread. The tilt of his head as his hands brace on his hips, fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.

His anger finally unmasked, with your final realization. Those feelings of protection breaking their way to the surface, sinking it’s claws into his skin.

“Left?” You echo - and you can see it, then - the change in his eyes.

The way your blood, your lifeforce, had infused him - the warm maroon shade shifting towards a bright, blazing crimson.

His lips part in a snarl, baring the points of his sharp canines. As an energy emanates, the room seeming to darken and close in around you.

As he sinks to a knee, all but swearing fealty. Bringing himself down to your level, as his voice drops, each world coming slowly.

“I want to rip them apart. Do you understand? I would burn the world for you, ner runi.”

It’s a confession, his voice so low and so sure. Like this was the only thing that matters, the thudding echo of his emotions jolting through you as you remember his grief at finding you gone.

In this moment, he is the Mand'alor. Beautiful and terrible, and you suddenly understand that fear that the name brings.

And for a second - it thrills you.

Because he is yours.

Because you are his and you never have to be afraid, again.

You nod mutely, and he softens. The ferocity still lingers but the snarl fades - fingers reaching out. Gentle against your skin as he cradles your jaw, mapping the curve of your cheek.

"Tell me that is what you want." His thumb brushes against your skin, achingly gentle. Asking for the permission to protect you, like he had promised.

You know he’d struggle, if you said no. Swallowing down the bloodlust, the guilt at turning a blind eye until it was almost too late.

But he would, for you.

If that is what you wanted. But your anger now has a conduit now, and it burns in your veins.

You know they won't stop, for how many times have they told you that exact thing? Twisted into monsters by their own obsession.

Your chin tips up, as you answer.

“Yes."

Sorry I mixed up the posting dates on this! I was so sure that today was the 28th! 😵‍💫 The finale (and the smut - thank you for your patience!) will be out on Thurs the 31st! Thank you for reading and I hope you liked the reveal! 💖

cyar’ika - darling/sweetheart | cyare - beloved/loved

ner runi - my soul

(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @creatureoftheunderworldd, @margowritesthings, @your-slutty-gf, @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl, @lovers-liability )

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin imagine #haunted hoedown #hauntedhoedown

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nsharks · 10 months

Text

bleeding blue | part fourteen preview

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach.

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are, and you needed something to get you off the couch, anyway.

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all.

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?"

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost."

There is a pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost.

"So when are you and him going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up sweaty at some odd hour, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip.

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction

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bts-hyperfixation · 11 months

Text

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 29 of 35

3079 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The next few days are wonderful. You all spend the time relaxing and playing and growing closer. Even Namjoon has managed to let go of his monetary hangups to spend some proper time with the family, and the sunny weather has helped to clear some of his hibernation grumpiness.

With each passing day, you find yourself extremely tempted by each of the men around you. But you can't bring yourself to get past heavy petting, although the making out was certainly a lot of fun.

The original room assignments have ceased to matter as everyone intermingles. Jungkook had even gotten up the courage to crawl into bed with Namjoon and Seokjin.

Taehyung had snuck away to Jimin's room after you had stopped his hands from wandering too low. Still, somehow you didn't wake up alone, finding Hoseok and Yoongi had clambered into bed with you at some point in the night. Hobi's leg was swung over your stomach and Yoongi's arms were wrapped around your shoulders, his lips buried into your hair.

You don't get a chance to question when they had joined you before Jungkook bursts through the door and launches onto the bed.

"Good morning!" He chirps.

He lays on top of you, only just supporting his own weight to stop from crushing you. He scents the three of you, shaking the bed as he goes and all of a sudden the humongous bed feels very cramped.

"Jungkook, it is far too early for you to be this energetic," Yoongi grumbles.

"But we only have two days of vacation left," He pouts. "You guys should be more willing to get out of bed and spend time with us."

"I think I preferred when you were hostile and shy," Hoseok complains.

The human reaches for the pillow behind his head and hits Jungkook across the face with it. Jungkook squeaks in protest and buries his face into your chest 'for protection'. You groan, as his full weight lands down on top of you, and push at him until he falls dramatically on top of Hobi instead.

Hoseok moans as Jungkook's elbow lands on his stomach. He quickly shuffles over to the edge of the bed allowing the bunny to slot in between you. Yoongi reaches over you to affectionately ruffle Jungkook's hair. The three of you manage to convince Jungkook to fall back to sleep for another hour but eventually, Jimin and Taehyung find their way into the room with you.

They cram themselves onto the bed forcing the four of you to sit up so they could fit on properly.

"Any plans for today team?" Taehyung asks.

"Sleep." Yoongi deadpans.

"Not an option." The panda singsongs.

Taehyung flops across Yoongi's lap, batting his eyelashes up at the man. The jackal just shakes his head and tries to push the younger man away, to no avail. Taehyung clings to him, grabbing onto his waist. He pulls himself to eye level with Yoongi, not giving the older man a chance before he leans in and kisses him hard.

"Come on Yoongi, won't you come and play with me?" He asks in his deepest voice.

The proximity flusters Yoongi, leaving him floundering for an answer. The rest of you just watch on in awe of Taehyung, he is the only one who can successfully leave Yoongi speechless like this.

"Wonderful, I'm not hearing a no."

With impressive speed, he takes ahold of Yoongi's hand and drags him out of the bed not to be seen again for a few hours.

Jimin takes the opportunity to muscle into the space Yoongi left behind.

" Y/N, do you want to go to the beach with me today?" He asks.

"Sure, are we all going?"

"No, I was hoping just the two of us if that's okay?"

You are met by grumbles from your other two bedmates but you shush them.

"That sounds great Jimin."

"Fantastic, I have packed us a picnic and it's all ready to go."

He bounces out of the bed and straight through the door.

"Be ready in twenty." He shouts over his shoulder.

You climb out of bed and reach for another swimsuit. You are about to remove your PJs when you remember you are still not alone.

"Shouldn't the two of you be going about your days?" You chastise.

The two look at one another and then back at you.

"Nope, I'm quite comfortable here... How about you Kookie?"

"I am perfectly fine myself Hobi."

You roll your eyes and take your swimsuit and coverup with you into the ensuite, followed by their groans of disappointment as you go.

________________

It's only a ten-minute walk to the beach. Jimin holds the picnic basket in one hand and your hand in the other. He takes you to a secluded part of the beach, hidden from prying eyes by rockpools and caves. He sets out a blanket for the two of you and helps you to sit down without kicking up too much sand.

He presents you with a wine glass and pours a large serving for each of you.

"Let's have a toast," he suggests, raising his glass.

"What to?"

"To you, to us, to the last six months. I don't know, I just want to celebrate knowing you." He shrugs.

"In which case... To us."

You raise your glass to meet his and then take one long swig. You bring your glass down only to find that Jimin has drained his glass completely.

"Are you nervous or something?" You ask, half joking.

"Maybe a little," He admits.

"What about, surely I don't make you nervous..."

"No, but what I want to tell you makes me nervous."

He doesn't elaborate. Instead, he busies himself with emptying the food out of the picnic basket. He pulls out quite the array of pastries and sweets, far too much for the two of you, but you don't say anything as he arranges it onto the blanket before you.

He takes a chocolate-covered strawberry and holds it up for you to bite. You take it as gracefully as you can, but some juice slips down your chin. He reaches out his thumb and swipes away the drip. Without really thinking about it you take the digit between your lips and suck it clean.

"That is not helping," He whines.

"Sorry," You say releasing him.

"Fuck it," He pushes the food out of the way and closes the gap between you.

You lie back as he pushes forward, spreading you out onto the blanket as he kisses you.

"You are far too tempting," He complains "This was not how today was supposed to go."

And yet he doesn't stop kissing you, hungry for more. He undoes the knot at the top of your cover-up and pulls it down to expose your bikini top.

"How was today supposed to go?" You ask, pushing him away from your chest.

"Well, I was going to get you in a great mood with food and wine, and then I thought I would give you a massage and help you to relax a little, and then I was going to tell you I love you..." He confesses.

"You were going to tell me you love me?"

"Yeah, but this doesn't feel like the romantic plan I had in mind now, I ruined it." He huffs.

"You haven't ruined it..." You assure him, "Feed me another strawberry and let's see where we get to."

He does as he is told and picks up another strawberry, holding it up for you. Again you eat the fruit and he watches your lips like they are the most mesmerizing thing on the planet.

"I love you." He blurts out.

Then he buries his head in his hands.

"Jimin, look at me," You say reaching out to cup his cheek.

He meets your gaze, a longing look that speaks volumes without uttering a word.

"I love you too," You respond.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do, I was actually talking to Namjoon about it at the beginning of the trip. I think I'm falling in love with all of you. I couldn't imagine not having met you that day at the shelter. This definitely isn't what I thought my life would become when I left my old world behind, but I genuinely don't think I could be happier than I am right now."

Jimin listens carefully as you ramble, nodding along like you are saying something truly fascinating. He slowly shuffles closer to you across the blanket until the two of you are sat side by side. He takes your hand in his and plays with your fingers idly.

"I always thought I wanted to be on my own, I never really got to experience life the way I thought I was supposed to and I really was deadset on trying to provide for myself and going out on my own. But now I don't think any of that was what I really wanted. I think I just wanted to find people I actually have something in common with."

"I'm so glad you stumbled into the shelter," He says leaning his head on your shoulder.

You sit and eat for a little while, watching as the waves crash into the shore. Until Jimin finally breaks the silence.

"This might ruin the romantic mood, but I was wondering why you always stop us when we want to go any further than kissing. And please don't think I'm complaining, I just want to know if we can do anything to make you feel more comfortable."

"Oh no! It's nothing to do with you guys, I promise. It's just... well... I don't have a lot of experience in that field and you guys have obviously had... practice, I don't want you to be disappointed" You shuffle awkwardly at the admission. "I just get too nervous I guess."

"Is that all?" Jimin chuckles. "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but I can guarantee not a single one of us will be disappointed, for so many reasons."

"I don't think you know how inexperienced I am." You sigh.

"I mean it's not like all of us are that experienced either. Jungkook and Yoongi have never slept with women. I've only ever been with one woman before I found Namjoon. And I'm not really sure about the others but their experience could only help you feel better."

"I guess you're right, I'm probably in my head for nothing." You agree.

"Will you let me show you that you're worried for nothing?" He asks, his voice lowering an octave as he nuzzles into your scent gland.

"Okay... but maybe we shouldn't do this on the beach..."

He cleans up the dishes and empties the rest of the wine onto the ground. He grabs a hold of your hand and practically runs off of the beach, you giggle as you follow behind him.

You feel like naughty kids as you sneak into the house, trying not to draw attention to yourselves. Everyone seems to be engrossed in some form of activity by the pool allowing the two of you to glide past easily. Jimin stores the picnic basket so that he can come back to it later without them noticing that you have returned early.

He pulls you into his and Jungkook's bedroom and locks the door behind you, only to push you up against the closed door.

He once again unties the knot on your cover-up, this time allowing the garment to tumble to the floor and pool around your feet. His hands land on your hips, Using the leverage to push his crotch against you, grinding through the limited fabric of your bathing suits. His grip tightens as he rubs against you, moaning against your lips.

He stops himself shortly after, pulling you with him to the bed. He lies back and drags you on top of him as he goes.

"You're so beautiful." He says with stars in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

You blush and hide your face in the nape of his neck, taking a deep breath of his rosemary scent.

"I'm going to make you feel so good." He says.

He grabs ahold of your bum and rolls you both over. He bites at your neck and makes his way down, barely stopping at your breasts, racing towards his primary goal, and this time you don't stop him.

His fingers curl around the waistband of your swimwear, pulling it straight down and away from your heat. You press your legs together out of instinct, not used to being on display. Your husband was more of a lights-off kind of lover.

Jimin isn't willing to put up with your bout of shyness, he playfully slaps your thigh and pries them apart so he can shuffle in between. You can see his eyes poking above your mound, it makes you want to shut your eyes and hide away.

"Put your hands in my hair and tell me where you want me to go." He directs your hands for you and you thread your fingers into his red locks.

His tongue darts out and flicks at your clit making you jump, your hands tighten in his hair and you pull him closer on instinct. He takes that as an invitation, chuckling as he noses deeper between your folds lapping greedily. You can't hold in the moan as his tongue stiffens against your clit drawing circles into the sensitive nerves.

One of his hands shoots up to cover your mouth as his other arm hooks around your thigh to give him better access.

"If you aren't quiet they are going to work out we are home. Jungkook's hearing is far too good with those bunny ears of his." He points out.

You glance down to nod at him but are met with the image of Jimin with his hair a mess and you dripping from his chin, it's positively sinful. He doesn't give you another moment to breathe before diving back in. He brings his hand back from your mouth, trusting you to keep yourself quiet as he continues. He uses his newly free hand to tease you further, his pointer finger circles your hole, thoroughly wetting it before slipping it inside.

It doesn't take long for him to add a second finger, curling them in a come hither motion in time to the movements of his tongue. You can feel the heat building quickly in your stomach, you use your leverage on his hair to tilt him into a better position, and he obeys beautifully, going exactly where you direct him.

His tongue begins to move quicker the closer you get, you tug harshly on his hair as you bite at your lip desperately trying to keep the noises in as you topple over the edge into your orgasm.

You are both panting as he pulls away. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then spreads it onto the bed, promising to wash it when he gets the chance. Then his face is in front of yours and he is kissing you, his lips still taste like the remnants of you. He barely pulls away as he reaches down to free himself from the confines of his own swimsuit. You take the opportunity to pull at the ties from your top, letting your chest free and tossing the flimsy fabric across the room.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? We can stop right now if you want," He checks

"I want this, I want you," You confirm.

He kisses you once more before leaning over to the bedside table and pulling out a condom. He rolls the rubber on with practised ease and rubs his cock against your folds to coat himself in you before lining himself up to you.

He takes his time sinking into you, a look akin to pain on his face. He bites his lip as he struggles to keep himself from bottoming out too quickly. You want to look away from him, but he looks so pretty with his eyes scrunched up in concentration. Your hips buck upwards to meet him involuntarily. He curses under his breath as you take the last inch.

His mouth lowers to your collarbones as he gets comfortable, and his hips wriggle impatiently as he tries to focus on kissing along your decolletage. You claw at his back trying to encourage him to move, but his resolve is much stronger than yours. He only begins to thrust shallowly when he is sure you are ready.

His speed grows gradually and your own hips rise in time with him, intuitively wanting to be closer to him.

"I thought you said you were inexperienced," He groaned.

His hips start to move even faster, the rhythm becoming sloppy as it's clear he's close to his end. One of his hands makes its way between the two of you circling your clit with his thumb. His hips change angles slightly without the support of both arms. He hits deeper each time. The now familiar heat builds once more in your stomach and you can feel the moan building in your throat ready to escape.

Like he can sense it, his mouth covers yours swallowing the moan as you cum, and he follows seconds after you. With no strength left in his arms, he flops down onto the bed next to you. Then he cuddles into your side and rests his head on your shoulder.

"I reckon we might have about five minutes until one of them smells the fact that we are up here," He says.

"Do you think they will actually come and look?"

"I think Taehyung will take the stairs two at a time. And there is a chance Namjoon is going to sulk even more than before." He muses.

"Then maybe we should get dressed and go join them outside. And probably open up some windows to air out the scent..." You suggest.

"But don't you think we smell so pretty together?" He pouts. "Lavender and Rosemary is so relaxing." He takes a deep breath against your scent gland.

You pull away to look at him, seeing the obvious scent-drunkness in his dilated pupils.

"I think we need to get you outside Chim." You chuckle

He preens at the nickname and nods enthusiastically, willing to do anything you ask of him in this state.

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

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electrikworm · 4 months

Text

Human Shield: Part 1

Since Wrecker can remember, he's put himself in harms way to protect his brothers. He always knew he'd be the one to execute plan 99.

When things start going wrong on a mission, Wrecker comes to understand that the day for that sacrifice has come

Or how Wrecker got his scar.

Content warning: Self-sacrifice, thoughts about dying

Decided to post this in multiple parts, mainly because I wanted to share this bit already :)

Inspired by this post by @squad-724

Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

The last few droids present panic at the alarm, leading to them being easier targets than usual. Even through his armor, Wrecker can tell the air is getting dangerously hot around them. They haven't got long. Thankfully, it isn't far to the exit.

When they were growing up, it didn't take long for Wrecker to be much bigger than his brothers. So, he started shielding them. It became one of his unspoken duties.

Wrecker tanks hits and draws fire whilst his brothers complete their objectives. It feels right, quickly becoming second nature. Wrecker knows that's why the Kaminoans made him this way.

As useful as his knowledge in weaponry and explosives is, that usefulness pales in comparison to his brothers abilities. He can arm and disarm bombs as fast as he likes, Tech's mind, Crosshair's sharpshooting and Hunter's senses are what get missions done.

But Wrecker can keep them alive. That's what his enhanced abilities are really about.

At some point during their cadet years, Tech started a digitalized and numerically ordered list of their plans. It grew along side them, some plans so obscure they'd never get to use them, some just added as a joke.

They all have favourites, plans they've been waiting to call for years. Wrecker has favourites too, mostly ones that allow him to show off his expertise in demolitions. But the one plan Wrecker considers his plan, the one he'll have to execute one day, is the one he likes least.

Plan 99, the plan to lay your own life down for your brothers, for the mission.

Wrecker always knew the day would come, and when it does, he'll be ready to do what he needs to do. For his brothers.

He has a bad feeling about the mission from the start. Something feels off. Hunter feels it too. He seems on edge.

Everything goes normally, well even, for most of the mission. But Wrecker stays alert. And it's a good thing he does.

The room where everything goes wrong houses a generator of some kind. Huge and powerful, large pressurized tanks fuelling it. They cross half the room fine, taking out droids as they go. But then a siren starts blaring, and the large machine makes unnerving noises.

It's overheating, going to explode. Wrecker's the first to understand what's happening, yelling for his brothers to run, get out of there as fast as possible. It's unclear weather the reason for the danger is a trap set for them, or a genuine malfunction. They don't have the time to consider that.

If those doors don't close, they're all dead. As fast as Wrecker and his vode can run, they'll never get far enough away from the explosion. With the door shut, there'd be a buffer between them. Wrecker internally curses the separatists for their bad safety measures, even if there's a high chance this was done on purpose. Wrecker tries the door once more, to the same result.

They clear the room, Wrecker slowing down to make sure his brothers get out. But when he goes to shut the heavy blast doors on the generator, something's wrong. It won't stay closed. It shuts, but then it hisses back open sluggishly.

The rest of his squad don't seem to have noticed, still running on.

It suddenly hits him that there's no way they're all leaving here alive, that this is the day Wrecker's been aware would come. This time when the two sides of the door slide closed, Wrecker grabs hold of them, pressing them together. His arms burn with the strain, but Wrecker pays the feeling no minds. It's not like he'll live to experience the consequences.

A strange calm washes over Wrecker. He's spent so long thinking about this day, about dying for his brothers, that the feeling's almost familiar. It's strange, thinking that he woke up that morning, not knowing he wouldn't live to see another.

He had plans, things he thought he'd do. They'd picked up some interesting fruit the day before and Wrecker was looking forward to trying them. He'd also promised Tech he'd help do maintenance on the Marauder. He'll have to manage without Wrecker, though he's sure Tech will do fine on his own.

Wrecker rests his helmet against the door. He can't tell if he's imagining it, or if he really can feel the heat from the other side through the metal. He briefly wonders what will kill him first, the explosion, or the ceiling's imminent collapse. Either way, he's going out with a bang. How in line with his personality and interests that is almost makes Wrecker laugh.

It's a stupid thought, but for a moment, Wrecker considers what will happen with the stuffed toys he's collected over the years. They take up a decent amount of storage space on the Marauder, so it would make sense for his vode to get rid of them. Wrecker hopes they keep Lula. His brothers made her, so she's special. She also doesn't take a lot of space.

“Where are you Wrecker?” Hunter's voice over the comm channel startles Wrecker. He sounds almost irritated. It dawns on Wrecker that he completely forgot to announce what he's doing.

“Plan 99. Finish the mission without me.” There's a slight tremor to Wrecker's voice thanks to the strain of forcing the door shut. He's entirely composed otherwise.

“What?” Crosshair hisses.

“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” Hunter asks, throwing Wrecker somewhat. He didn't think Hunter would forget a plan, he never has before.

“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker says, trying to remind his ori'vod.

“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says.

“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”

Wrecker laughs. “Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.”

“Wrecker.” Hunter's tone is warning.

“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says, sighing softly to himself. A metallic creak resonates behind the door. He's not got much longer, but his brothers will be safe. “It's what I'm made for.”

For a moment, Wrecker hears the commotion of his brothers talking over each other, then, it's all drowned out as the generator finally gives out. The explosion is deafening, unbearable heat enveloping Wrecker as the door warps and breaks under the pressure. Pain grips Wrecker's body like a vice, the world around him still impossibly loud as the building caves in.

Then, everything goes black and Wrecker is plunged into nothingness, thoughts of his brothers safety quieting any fear that threatened to rise in his chest in that final moment.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker whump #self sacrifice #my writing

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changingplumbob · 4 days

Text

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 5

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Carson got home late from prom so treated himself to a sleep in. Before he got in to the swing of the day he decided to give downstairs an extra vacuum. There was no guarantee that Ariadne would come visit, or that she would come inside the house if she came over, but it was the safest thing to do. If he didn’t she might make a social bunny post about how he lived in a tip that he’d never live down. No, surely she wouldn’t? Best be safe though.

After polishing off breakfast he decided to give Onyx a call, they were normally up by now practicing cheer or playing with their horse.

Onyx: Sup mate

Carson: Hey! Remind me, did we have homework for science?

Onyx: A bit, stuff from the textbook. Shouldn’t take you long though, it’s multi choice with like one proper written question

Carson: Okay so I should be able to do that tonight

Onyx: Why? You got plans for the day

Carson: I might... I’ll call you later

Onyx: No problem, I'm homebound all day

Hanging up he knew there was no more avoiding. He sent Ariadne a message. She had accepted his social bunny request, he wouldn't have sent it if she hadn't suggested it herself though. He didn't want to come on too strong.

Her texts indicated she’d love to come check out the beaches and Carson excitedly got in his swimwear. He looked in his mirror before heading downstairs and decided to throw a tank shirt on as well. He had some confidence but not enough to quite go shirtless with the girl he was crushing on. Ariadne arrived just before lunch ready to hit the beaches.

Ariadne: You okay?

Carson: Yeah, just wondering which direction to head

Harvey: Ariadne would you like to see some of our family photos while you’re here

Carson: No dad, we’re leaving!

Ariadne giggled as Carson made a beeline for the backdoor.

Outside they had good weather, Carson was happy the rain had stayed away for the day.

Ariadne: So...

Carson: So...

Ariadne: Uh... is there like a spot you like most

Carson: It’s all pretty nice but if we head down this hill there’s a pretty good clean bit

Ariadne: *nervously* After you

As they walked Carson tried to think of something to say but all he could think was that Ariadne looked really cute.

Ariadne: Have you always lived here then

Carson: Oh no. I was born in Willow Creek actually. After my mum had me she decided to get a full time artist job and that gave us enough to move here. My dad... well he earns good money but it’s just a fishing gig

Ariadne: You forget, my dads may be loaded but I didn’t grow up with much. At least your dad has a job, you can be proud of that

Carson: You are too sweet

Ariadne: *blushes* Shut up

Carson: Shall we go swimming then

Ariadne: I don’t know. Are there sharks?

Carson: Sometimes but not usually close to the shore. If any come up we can just punch them on the nose

Ariadne: *giggling* That is not a thing. The poor sharks might just want friends

Carson: Fine, any come up and I’ll hug them while you swim away. Come on

Carson grabbed her hands to lead her to the water, hoping they weren’t as sweaty as they seemed. She smiled and he hoped he’d done the right thing. Once they were in the water he let go so they could swim, happy he’d pushed himself to try that.

In the water they mucked around, splashing each other and swimming in circles. They shared tales of their school teachers and the various gossip around sims they both knew. Time carried on and Carson knew he should end it, he had scouts, but surely the troop could manage without him for an afternoon. Unless of course they were hit by a meteor. But if that was going to happen then it was good he wasn’t there or he’d die to.

Ariadne: Are you sure those glasses are fine for in the water

Carson: Yeah they’ve got this coating that bounces the water right off. I can see how good you look, don’t worry *blows kiss*

Ariadne laughed and Carson hoped it was with happiness rather than her thinking he was embarrassing himself. She sighed wistfully and turned to float on her back for a while.

Ariadne: I suppose I won’t see much of you at school this week

Carson: I mean... I know we’re in different years but I’ll still be around. If you want to see me that is. Can we go to the shore for a minute, I want to give you something before you have to go home

Ariadne: Can I have a hint

Carson: Just open it and see

Ariadne: It’s a shark isn’t it

Carson: *laughs* Just open the box

Inside the box was a Tulip Shell that Carson had found the past week and he was happy to see Ariadne smile at the sight of it.

Carson: It’s the most flawless one I’ve found. Normally they get chipped on like diving gear and stuff

Ariadne: It’s lovely. Are you sure you want to give it to me?

Carson: It should be with someone just as pretty

Ariadne: *blushing* Thanks. Oh shoot the time, I better get back home

Carson: Wait, um... selfie first?

Ariadne: *laughing* Twist my arm

Carson lifted up his phone for the shot, unable to ignore the tightening in his chest when Ariadne snaked her arm around him to get in the picture properly. After she left he sat on the beach for a while, closing his eyes and playing the time back in his mind.

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #R0910 #CarsonFoster #OnyxPancakes #HarveyFoster #AriadneSterlingFromBakersimmer

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birgittesilverbae · 1 year

Note

hitched fic, a moment for either/both of them where they look at the other and think 'hmm, maybe i won't mind being married to that goober', not that big italicized Oh, but that tiny little ...huh

"You disappeared," Ava calls out as she picks her way carefully down the stairs to the dock. The treads are still damp with the prior day's rain and fallen leaves lie slick on the wood.

Bea glances back towards her from her spot at the very edge of the dock, shrugs a sweater-clad shoulder. "I just needed some air. You didn't have to come down."

"What, and stay up there with a solo front row seat to Ms. and Ms. Disgustingly In Love? No, thank you." She comes to a halt at the path curving along the lakeshore, eyeing the dock distrustfully. No handrails to grab onto there; she'd need to mention that to Mary when they returned to the cottage.

"Have you stayed out here with them before?"

Ava shakes her head, then realises Bea can't see the movement. "Just on day trips, I used to bartend part-time and I'd pick up shifts on long weekends. Never worked out that I could stay overnight."

Bea hums to herself, tucks her hands in her pockets. "The last time I was here it was with Lucia."

"Ah. No wonder you needed to step away. Do you want me to leave you to it, or…?"

Bea turns fully towards her then, her breath clouding in the air with every breath. "No," she replies, striding back up the dock towards her, "I always appreciate your company."

Ava ducks her chin towards her chest, her face growing hot. She doesn't know that she'll ever get used to the ease with which Bea just says things like that, or to how clear it is that she doesn't understand the effect it has on Ava. She clears her throat and kicks at a clump of leaves. "Yeah, well, the only other option is third-wheeling them while they talk about colour schemes with Yas, so…"

"Are they still pretending they haven't already decided on navy and sage?"

"Mary was going on about coral when I made my escape."

Bea laughs softly. "She does know how to push every single one of Shannon's buttons." She proffers her arm to Ava, nods towards the path. "Would you be up for a turn about the lake?"

"Gladly." She clasps Bea's forearm, turns in time with her to start down the path. Her thumb strokes absently across the thick weave of Bea's sleeve. "I like this sweater too," she remarks, "but I'm appropriately dressed for the weather this time, so don't even think about offering it to me."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I'm glad to hear you've figured out how to check a forecast."

"Didn't want to risk another round of mockery."

"It was gentle ribbing, if anything."

"'Oo, Ava, you're going to freeze your nipples off'."

"I absolutely do not sound like that, and I definitely did not say 'nipples'."

"You might not have said it, but…" Bea's arm stiffens beneath her hand, and Ava scrambles to backtrack. She gestures up at the trees, limbs skeletal in the cool air. "Ironic, don't you think, that we're here looking at this as a wedding venue when everything's in the middle of dying off for winter?"

Bea tips her head back to follow the direction of Ava's hand. Her face goes a bit shuttered, cheeks pink with the chill, eyelashes fluttering. "It'll be beautiful come spring, though," she replies softly.

Gaze locked on Bea, on the gentle fall of loose strands of hair across her cheek, on the constellation of freckles scattered over her cheeks, Ava can't help but agree.

#ask #selifator #fic: hitched #warrior nun #mywn #myfic #ava x beatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #avatrice

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kimtaesss · 1 year

Text

OUR BELOVED HOME | JIN.2

Summary: your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for both of you. Yet that all changes when you caught your sister and husband in bed.

Pairings: Jin x reader

Genre: angst; slight fluff?

Warnings: poor y/n going through it 😭. Everyone is bipolar! I mean it! Jin is a dick and so is the sister! Mentions of father; mentions of death? Just lots of breakdowns and cursing. Also, I apologize for the wait! Ik it’s been sooo long, but life has been hectic. And lots of my writing got deleted. So, I also apologize for this short and confusing chapter. Thank u for the patience and love 🤍

first chapter > Jin. 1

No amount of apologizes or excuses were going to make up what you had just witnessed.

It's never easy seeing the man you love, the one that you promised to share your life with, and all the craziness included, being in the arms of someone else. Or in this case, laying on his back, while your sister was straddling him.

Your sister?!

It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't even an acquaintance. It was someone you grew up with and admired. You always thought that you and her had a special bond, but you guess it was perhaps a way to get closer to your husband.

It's embarrassing to even admit this to yourself; in your mind. And the worst part is that you witnessed it all. There was no erasing or denying that can be done on your part, when you saw everything. And heard the lies, and no care from their very mouths.

You're not even sure where you are at this very moment. You're just standing in front of a bunch of lights that are slowly fading away, as the night grows closer. While your hand carries your sandals, and your cheeks carry your tears.

Once you saw that incident, you had to leave. You had to run away from your thoughts, the lies, the betrayal, and the hurt. But something's just can't be avoided. No matter how fast or far you run.

"Now, now. Stay close to me dear, we don't know how that lady is" you heard a mother attempt to whisper to her daughter, while she stared at you with such disgust, that it made you scare to look at your own reflection.

You wanted to go up to them, and say you aren't a bad person or even scary for that matter. Your mascara had just wandered all over your face, as your heart began breaking into tiny pieces.

But you get it. You get her. She's protecting the person she loves the most.

You're a bit embarrassed to admit you're jealous of a little kid. After all, she had someone who cares for her, and isn't ashamed to show it. While you just have a signature on a piece of paper, with a man who keeps anything but his promises.

It was strange. Your mind has so much and so little going on. It was as foggy as the weather, and as confused as you were walking into that.

A buzz kept bothering your state of mind. And you know it's them, or at least one of them attempting to silence your truth. And you want to ignore it, them. But you couldn't hide the love and care you still possess for both of them. It's not something that can be erased with a snap of a finger.

You're not sure what triggered you most. The fact that your sister is texting you. Or the fact that she was texting you?!

She didn't even have the decency to attempt to call you. Or blow up your phone. Or even follow after you. Especially considering that her betrayal hurt you the most. The only difference was that it was so unbearable that you don't even want to attempt to feel or think of the pain she caused you.

Mia: I'm sorry.

That's it? She must really not give a single fuck about you. You should ignore her.

You: You should be.

Yeah, that was never going to happen. You staying silent that is. At least not when it came to her.

You noticed another notification and realized Jin, your dear husband, had sent you a message, minutes before her.

Jin: I'm sorry! Please just let me explain! I thought that was you! I swear, it's nothing like that. Babe please text me back! I'm worried.

You: Worry about yourself.

You shut your phone. And stare up at the building in front of you.

After yesterday, you could have sworn that you would not end up here today. But here you are, stupidly falling back to your old habits. Which you suppose, could be worse. Or maybe not.

Jin could have not had a more horrible week planned out even if he wanted to.

When he woke up that morning he wasn't expecting it to start the way it did, or end the way it did.

He knows that what he did was wrong, he can admit that. And he can also admit that he's known for awhile now but that never was enough to stop him from having sex with his wife's sister.

It’s been a couple of days now, that he’s been released from the hospital. After all, it wasn’t anything major. He had a couple of bruises and swelling, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

He supposed you freaked out because you just cared that much about him. Or maybe you just felt guilty since technically speaking it was your fault not his.

He has chugged three beers so far, while he's been at his apartment. He figured he should have a separate place for his shenanigans. That's why, he hasn't been over to the shared house.

There was just no words that could come out of his mouth in this instant to get him out of this mess. None.

He's also been waiting on his food to be here for what seems like hours, but there have been no signs, nor updates about it. He's starting to lose hair from all the stress he's undergoing this week.

However, once he opened his front door he was unaware of how much more stress he was able to handle again.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you ruined my life already?"

"No." She says with a proud smirk on her face. "That was all your doing." She ends off her little talk with a shrug. As she enters his home, with no regards to his feelings. Even hits his shoulder a little on the way inside.

He stared at her with confusion and annoyance. He even tends to headache by massaging his forehead with his fingers. But decides he might as well get this over with.

"How? How is this my doing?"

She takes no time to answer. Almost as if she had rehearsed this whole speech and interaction. God, was she exhausting.

"It takes two people to have sex. And you loved it as much as I did before she entered the room. I made sure you did" she sent a wink your way, and even has the nerve to bite her lips. If she wanted to look sexy, she's failing. She just looks constipated.

"Stop doing that face. It's gross."

"Yet you loved it when you texted me the other night. What was it that you said? You wanted to ruin my pretty little face?"

He gulped, as he watched her continue her rant. It's not like he could butt in and deny it. It's exactly what he sent her. He was drunk, horny, and annoyed of the previous argument or lack of, he had with his wife. And he knew she would cave in, she just loves the attention.

"I was drunk and horny I would have said anything to get laid. But then again, you would just about accept anything, to get laid as well. I don't have to try hard when you give it up so easy. Talk about having no love for yourself."

"Oh! I love myself just plenty"

Her comment only made you giggle. Who is she trying to convince? Cause she sure as hell won’t convince you.

"I'm not your mirror. You don't have to lie to me. Everyone who sees you knows you don't love yourself. Maybe that's why you're always invested in your sister's life?"

"Maybe?" she gulps, as she pretends his words had no real affect on her. When in reality, they ran through her veins like blood. And cut deep like a knife. "But you don't love yourself either Jin."

"I don't?" He was taken aback by her comment, simply because he never truly thought about this, himself. Did he love himself? Maybe.

"I mean if you did why would you lose someone like my sister? I mean she loves you so much, she's taken on a second job to help you with the bills! Aren't you the man in the marriage? Sure doesn't seem like it."

He simply rolls his eyes, as there's not much that can be said to defend his honor. Although, he hates how someone as dumb and useless as her, is making him feel like shit.

"Why don't you do all of us a favor and man up. Huh? Maybe then, you'll realize that the only real loser is you."

And with that she left. She didn't care to hear his response nor worry about how her words were hurting him. She knew she did. Jin may not ever have the balls to admit it, but she knows him like the back of her hand. There's also the case that he's predictable.

Her sister would have noticed sooner if she stopped thinking with her heart, and stop seeing him through her love lenses. She was as they say, "blinded by love".

He, however, was slowly realizing one thing.

She was right about everything.

Your phone kept buzzing but your mind was more busy and bothersome than any other noise. It felt like there was town full of people, swarming your mind.

You wanted to stop all the noise you kept finding, even without looking. You wanted to think of all the misery your husband had brought you throughout the years, so you can just leave him behind. With all the past broken promises, and you suppose now the present ones included.

You wanted to let go of your childhood, of all the memories and times you felt blessed to be surrounded by a caring and beautiful sister like yours.

You wanted to pinpoint when your whole life was beginning to become a lie.

Were you too busy thinking about yourself to notice when things were slowly slipping away from you? Were you too cocky to believe that you wouldn't be betrayed by the people you love and adore the most?

It seems silly to even dwell on things like this. You shouldn't have to carry such burden and guilt, for being the victim to their games.

You scoff wholeheartedly, as you stare at the pictures with hand made frames, that held every moment of your life, with people who only managed to brighten it up to later cover it with pure darkness.

"Y/n! Please open the door!"

You heard the knock but your body was too busy dwelling on the pain, that there was no strength nor thought to stand up and open the door. It's not like you wanted to either way.

Or maybe you did.

Maybe you wanted to hear their excuse so you can move past this nonsense. Maybe it was a prank to make you feel guilty for what happened earlier with Jin and Jimin, that stranger who made you feel more like a human and less like an object.

How you wish you could find a solution to this problem.

"Please.." his voice was slowly becoming faint, weak. And it spoke directly to your heart, the way it jumped a beat, and broke to tears.

"Just leave.." you answer back, as you're unable to see him face to face.

It's been a few minutes, and there's still no silence from the other side of your door. Which has lead you to have an internal turmoil.

Should you let him in? Or should you let him continue humiliate himself?

Well at the end he's humiliating you, as your neighbors are becoming aware of his affairs, and your troublesome marriage.

Therefore, you made the decision to let him inside. Even though, you're afraid of the outcome. You're weak there's no doubt about it.

As you slowly twist the door knob to let him in your home, your shared home you suppose. You look down afraid to make direct contact right off the bat. Because like you said, you were far too weak to even attempt to be strong.

And once he enters inside your home, he takes no time to talk his heart out, as he falls down to his knees, hands colliding, rubbing against eachother as he begs for his forgiveness. There's tears falling down his cheeks, and although it breaks you to see him in this condition. Your mind automatically wonders if any of this is real or an act to save his ass.

Because he sure as hell doesn't want to save this marriage. He had plenty of time to go to couples therapy, as you recommended him to do, for years now.

"It didn't mean anything to me. But you do"

"I don't" You scoff, as your eyes fall anywhere but his. You know that you're already too weak to avoid his calls or texts, or to not let him inside your place. As you eventually caved in.

And you know it's partly because you still loved him. But there was also this part of you, that hoped he was telling the truth. That all of this was just a dumb and stupid mistake. How badly you wanted that to be true.

But as you close your eyes to flee his stare, your mind wanders to the very reason as to why this is even happening. You see your sister on top of him, moving in a way, you wished you could. You see his smirk as he runs his hands all over her perfect body.

You mouth begins shaking attempt to cover a whimper that was slowly building confidence. You slowly start to build that confidence as well, as your eyes catch a small glimpse of his. And like your marriage, you broke down in several different ways.

You cover your face with your hands, again believing that you'll be able to erase everything that you witnessed, but instead making it harder. Because as your eyes closed, the images just came back stronger. You had more space to think of their affair. You had more space to think of how lonely you've felt throughout your whole marriage, and for some stupid, stupid reason you can't help but blame yourself.

"Y/n... please don't cry. I- I only want the best for you. I hate seeing you hurt."

You glared at him. You couldn't believe the audacity or the words that came out of the very mouth that promised you a lifetime of happiness and love.

"If you hate seeing me hurt so much, then why hurt me? Then why sleep with my sister? And why do it when I'm in the same fucking place?! I- I can't believe I ever loved you."

I can't believe I still do.

"It was an accident?! Why can't you fucking understand that? Huh? Accidents happen and not everyone is perfect. I'm human. I'm flawed, and you knew that before we got married. So just deal with it. This is who I am"

You scoff, shake your head, and laugh a little at his comment. " Was it an accident when your dick slipped in my friend? Or how about that waitress on our 3rd year anniversary? And I'm sure I'm missing a couple more..."

"This again? Are you serious?" He pulls his hair out of anger. And slowly starts getting up from the floor, he was previously begging for forgiveness. Guess, he’s abandoning that too.

"You're paying thousands of dollars for therapy, just so you can stay in the same place? You said you forgave me, so why do you keep bringing it up?!"

"Because I can't forget!" Your anger is slowly turning into exhaustion. You feel defeated, and unheard. How could possibly forget everything he has done to you, during your marriage? Nothing made sense anymore.

"I can't forget that you always found a way into someone else's arms and not mine!"

"It's not-"

"Don't!" You place your hands in front of you to prevent him from stepping closer.

"I vowed to be with you through sickness and health and I meant it. I meant every single word that night, but I can't keep fighting over the same thing, over different people. I can't keep making myself at fault for something you did. I- I can't keep feeling like this. I can't."

"Like what? What exactly are you trying to say?"

Typical. He only answered a bit that was insignificant.

"Like I'm just invisible. I want to be seen! I want to be able to feel you with me. I want to be... me. I don't know who I've become but I hate her. I hate me." You look down and start thinking.

"And it's stupid because I hate me more than I hate you. And I don't deserve that. And you don't deserve me."

"We deserve eachother." He immediately butts in as if it would confuse you, and make you agree with him.

"We probably did at some point. But we don't anymore."

"Y/n... just think about what you're about to say.."

There’s nothing to think about. He cheated again. He lied again. He choose someone else over you again.

"I want a divorce as soon as possible."

And with that you grabbed your purse, and walked out of your own house. You couldn't breathe if you had stayed longer.

And you hate that those words escaped your mouth, you were taught better. You were taught to fight for as long as it is needed, if it involved someone you loved.

And in a way you did abide by that. Because even though you love him more than yourself, the person that needed that extra love was not him but you.

You're not sure what else happened that night. And you chose to keep it that way.

Because the only thing you are sure of, is the headache you are currently possessing.

"Where the hell are my pills"

Unfortunately because of the fucking sun hitting your face, you can’t see anything. Leaving you to throw your hands around every spot until you feel a bottle, and hope it’s the one with the pills you need for this headache. Seems like you’ve been having more lately.

"Right drawer" a man with a deep voice comments, and you immediately jump, as you’re clearly startled by this random voice in this random setting.

You begin rubbing your eyes, and then shift to placing your hands onto of your eyes, hoping it blocks the sunlight. And gives you more access to the person in front of you.

But as you squint your eyes, and do all sorts of sports to have a clear view. It seems like your view only seems to be more out of focus.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"You accidentally butt dialed me. Figured I should come check on you, once I heard your argument with Jin." As he’s explaining everything to you, you slowly hide behind your blanket, or pillow. He’s simply laughing to your nonsense behavior, as he always does.

You’re sort of glad it was him over your mother.

"Oh." You begin sitting up on your bed. "That's embarrassing...."

"It's not." He answers with sincerity, that it almost makes you feel more at ease. But then you cringe, remembering the argument you had with your husband, and your father hearing everything.

You glare at him. Because of the position he put you in.

"It's not!" He attempts to assure you again.

"You know how many times, me and your mother had the divorce talk?"

That’s one way to bring you back to your senses.

"I don't know. How many?" You question, but also slightly shifting to avoid his gaze. You don’t like to make eye contact, it makes everything real.

"Too many times! We talked about getting divorce so much, it took time out of our days, making it impossible to actually go get it." He chuckles, as he starts imagining those days, the arguments, the threats. And a sad smile forms on his face, knowing that his marriage was ever at a point of ending.

"Well that's always nice to hear dad. I love how open you are about your lack of love in your marriage. While mine is also crumbling."

"I'm not bringing it up to hurt you. I'm bringing it up because well honestly speaking. I enjoyed the arguments with your mother more than I've enjoyed any normal conversation with anyone else."

"That doesn't make sense. You're not making sense."

He laughs. "What I mean is it's easy to want to give up on a marriage when it's hard or you know, serious offenses are being made like cheating. But sometimes it's important to realize that every human has a flaw, and with marriage we are supposed to accept that and even embrace it."

"Dad you're going all traditional on me."

"Y/n-" He attempts to cut you off and even begins remembering the speech he had prepared beforehand.

But you didn’t let him.

"No! Look I appreciate that you came all the way here to speak to me about your marriage, and what not. But this is mine. And I'm just not sure I can get passed this betrayal. I've forgiven enough."

"He just doesn't love me.." You lowly say, afraid to be judged by him. He was never fond of him, but here he was defending him instead of you. Maybe, you were asking him to talk all the shit he’s been holding in.

Of course, you’re never lucky.

"He does. Just speak to him." He placed his hand onto yours to give you some comfort. But you don’t feel it. You don’t feel his hand, his warmth, or comfort.

It makes you think of many things, but you attempt to shake it off and continue with your.. therapy session, you suppose.

"I already did. Trust me he doesn't."

"Well, I can't make you do anything but I'm always here. You know I'll always be your guardian angel."

Guardian angel? That’s a weird way to say he’s always going to protect you. You would have thought he would have said something cringe like a bodyguard. That was more on brand for him. But it’s getting sentimental, so you just go along with him.

"I know dad.. I know."

And with that you woke up. This time you woke up with all the lights turned off, with sweat pouring down your forehead. And your breathing becoming uneven.

You let out every single tear or emotion you held back, and release it. You had another dream about your father. And usually it's forgotten, but this time its not.

You look up and attempt to form a smile on your face, even if it was more on the sad side.

“My guardian angel”

Taglist: Tag list: @mwitsmejk @ikonsiconic @pretzelssbangtan @evafrechette @taelici0us @bjoriis @sukakakakakakkq @laylasbunbunny @belovedsthings @kimxhanbin131 @got7usernames @bambamsthings @rainfprest @whipwhoops @bloodline1632 @sevenlives07

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gemini-sensei · 11 months

Text

Thinking about single dad!Robby again @sensei-venus

He's probably so scared all of the time. At first, he was scared to hold his daughter but after a day, he won't put her down. If she falls asleep in his arms, she's staying there. He carries her everywhere. He read online that babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and now that her mom isn't around, he commits to building that connection with his daughter. Someone finds him at home with his daughter lying on his chest and he's like "Be quiet, she's sleeping."

His friends come together to help him raise his daughter. The LaRussos give him some old baby stuff they don't need anymore. Sam buys so many baby clothes. The guys come around to build the nursery while Robby is taking care of his baby girl. Hawk and Miguel tease him a lot though. Demetri gives a lot of baby STEM toys and books because why not? That's important, right? Tory gives moral support in the form of telling him "Babies aren't that hard. Wait until she's older."

Robby just holds his daughter close and kisses her head. "She's not growing up."

He's so cute honestly.

He's also so tired. But he doesn't want anyone to take care of her but him, thinking he has to do this on his own. He doesn't realize it takes a village because he watched his mom do it on her own. Poor Robby. Someone help get him some help.

And Moon does.

Robby has to work, so she brings around one of her midwife friends on an unbusy day. He trusts Moon, so after meeting Reader he's okay with leaving his baby girl with them. He does check in a lot though. He texts a lot and Moon sends him pictures of his daughter and Reader, smiles on their faces as they have a nice day. It's a big help to him and he can get what he needs to do done.

After a while of working like this, Moon leaves the babysitting to Reader solely. She's all for it, too, happy to help where she can even if she didn't know Robby before this.

One day, his daughter is a little under the weather. He's apprehensive to leave her with Reader, feeling like he has to be there for her, but Reader assures him that it'll be okay. He's working extra hard for his daughter and she knows that, so she tells him to keep up the great work and she'll take care of his sweet little girl.

Well, when he comes home, he finds Reader rocking his daughter. She's fussy and red in the face, but Reader has it all under control. As soon as she sees her daddy though, baby girl Keene is ready to be in his arms. So he washes up quickly so he can spend the night with her. He knows he's gonna be up with her all night, so he gets ready for it, not realizing Reader plans on staying to help.

"You can go, thanks for the help," he says in passing, kissing his daughter's head.

Reader is getting a bottle ready, shaking her head. "What? No, no, unless you want me to go, but I'd like to stay if that's okay. You've had a long day, I wouldn't want to leave you two alone."

He stares at her a little stunned. He wasn't expecting that. "I don't wanna keep you longer than I should. I mean, you have a home to go to."

"It's an apartment," she laughs and checks the bottle. It's just right, so she passes him. "Plus, it's pretty lonely. I'd be different if I had a cat or something."

He chuckles and starts feeding his daughter, who is more than happy to drink milk. She's mostly just happy her daddy is home. "I can't argue with that."

If he's being honest, he doesn't want to send her off. He knows how it is to be lonely, those kind of nights suck. "Well, uh, thanks. I'd be a big help if you stayed."

Reader smiles and starts cleaning up. "That's what I'm here for."

As she walks to the kitchen, Robby can't help but hope that she'll be around for more reasons than just watching his daughter while he's gone to work. However, he doesn't feel like he can say anything about that. He has a baby from a one-night stand in a party bathroom, who would want him? He's a mess.

If only he knew Reader was thinking some of the same things. She thinks he's so hot, especially when he's gotten out of the shower after a long day, and lays his daughter on his bare chest as she falls asleep. Not to mention she's totally fallen in love with his daughter. She's so cute with her gummy smile and little face. She's so tiny and sweet, how could one not love her?

Now if only these two - Robby and Reader - could see they're in the perfect place to fall for each other....

#single dad!robby #robby keene x chubby reader #robby keene x reader #robby keene headcanons #robby keene imagine #robby keene #baby headcanons #midwife!moon #midwife!reader #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #domestic headcanons #gemini sensei

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itsalmostavengers · 7 months

Note

Steve quietly helping a “finally at the end of his wick&burnt out” Tony out of his suit and into bed

The button was sticking to his fingers. It had to be. There was no other reason as to why the hell this was taking so long.

Tony looked down in confusion, observing his index and thumb as they battled to wrangle the slick white button out of its buttonhole. It wasn't going very well from the looks of it, which was strange, because he could've sworn he started to work at them almost as soon as he'd stepped through the door. That meant he'd been at it for at least 20 seconds now. This was not something that Tony could say he usually struggled with.

He watched his own fingers as they fiddled desperately at the contraption for a few more moments before, finally giving up and falling dejectedly onto the countertop. He could give that another go later, he figured. For now...

Well. Fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Blinking slowly, Tony attempted to orientate himself. He knew he was in the kitchen at the tower. He knew it was... well, Tony didn't quite know what time it was because the meeting with the Secretary of Defence had run over, but it was dark now. 11, maybe? He knew that there was probably something else he needed to get done before he could call it a night. His to-do list had only been growing since he started it at the beginning of the week, and they weren't the kinds of things you could put off until the next day. They were the kinds of things that, if left too long, could get people killed.

Right. Okay. He needed a refuel. A bagel, maybe. And a coffee. And then he would... yeah. The kit for Natasha. Top priority. She was heading out to Alaska tomorrow and her old suit had been torn to shreds in the debacle last Tuesday. So bagel, coffee, workshop. Bagel, coffee, workshop. Bagel-

"Could I suggest, sir, that you substitute your coffee and workshop plans for bed instead? It has been two days since you last achieved REM sleep."

Tony was quiet for a moment. He stared at the wall, and then glanced up to the ceiling slowly, a frown folding into his forehead.

"Did you just read my mind?" He asked JARVIS.

"No sir. I listened."

"Oh. I was speaking?"

"Indeed sir."

"Ah."

See, this was the slight problem that came with spending a week hopping straight from one obligation into another. He started to lose track of himself a little. The overuse of caffeine probably didn't help either. But it was that or fall behind, and he quite simply didn't have time to fall behind. At this point, he'd never catch back up again. He had to do more. Keep going.

So he chose to ignore JARVIS's advice, and instead reached a hand into the pack of bagels on the side. His mind whirred disjointedly as it tried to work through the current set of problems plaguing Stark Industries. The biggest issue was tied into the aforementioned meeting he'd just had with the Defence Secretary. As a general rule, Tony Stark and military personnel did not get on too well. They'd never gotten out of the sulk they fell into with him after his whole 'no more weapons' epiphany, which was just fine by Tony. They talked a lot of shit about him behind closed doors and, occasionally, in public meetings, but they were normally content to leave it at that.

Except now they'd gone ahead and appointed this new guy into one of the top brass roles, and his sole mission seemed to be wrangling Stark Industries back into the weapons business. By any means necessary.

Tony would come out victorious in this stupid little power play, obviously. This wasn't the first time a government official had used thinly-veiled threats and blackmail against him. It was, however, the first time the pressure had come right from the top of the chain. And it implied there was a wider cultural change in the ranks of the US Military, which meant Tony, The Avengers and Stark Industries were all going to have to tread more delicately if they wanted to weather the storm.

He sighed, gaze losing its focus for a few moments. In front of him, the toaster ticked away. The smell began to permeate the air. Tony realised he wasn't even sure he was hungry. He had been, a few hours ago, but the sensation had since faded when it realised it wasn't being listened to. Now he just felt hollow. Like someone had scooped out his brains with a melon baller. He realised he was swaying back and forth on his feet - a slow, repeated motion that was starting to make him feel dizzy. He told himself to be still.

The bagel popped out of the toaster, and it was only then that Tony remembered there were extra steps to this process. Butter. And a knife. He needed both. Hopefully his hands would be able to handle this one.

Turning on his heel, he headed over to the fridge, because he was 90% sure that was where they kept the butter these days - but as his hips swivelled to the left, he felt himself bump against something that had not previously been in the kitchen. It was firm, but soft. Warm. It smelled familiar.

Tony was staring in mild surprise at the chest in front of him, and it took a moment before he realised that that wasn't where you were supposed to look when you bumped into people. And Steve was a stickler when it came to being polite, so he promptly lifted his gaze.

"Hi," he told Steve. This, he thought, was an appropriate thing to say - not too much, not nothing at all, just right. "I'm making a bagel."

Steve, however, didn't seem to care much about the bagel. He didn't even look at it when Tony gestured over to it, which was unusual, because Steve was a very food-oriented man. Instead, Steve was staring down at Tony, a strange kind of intensity in his eyes. They'd been arguing earlier this morning. God, he hoped Steve wasn't coming back to pick up where they'd left off.

Then Steve did something strange. He lifted his hands. Curled them gently around the place where Tony's shoulders met his biceps: soft at first, but then adding just a touch of pressure, enough that Tony's brain noticed it and perked up, flared back into life just a little. The sensation of it kicked off a chain reaction. He realised his thumb hurt, and he needed to pee, and that he'd somehow forgotten to turn on the light as he'd been walking through the kitchen because it was dark as shit and he could actually barely see the other man an inch away from him.

"Tony," Steve's voice was calm, firm, and left absolutely no room for argument. "You can stop now."

Tony didn't respond, too busy trying to process that in his head. It didn't sound right - he knew there was a list, he did, and it was his job to do it and he'd been working at it for the last five days and there wasn't time to stop, there just wasn't. That was what he'd been telling himself, over and over and over. But then, if that was true, it would mean that Steve was wrong. Steve was rarely wrong.

"You can stop," Steve said again. "It's okay to stop."

Was it really?

"Natasha needs--"

"She will be fine. You've created dozens of variants of that uniform for her. Her wardrobe is literally full of protective gear." Steve gave him another gentle squeeze, and it felt good, it felt really good for Steve to touch him. It'd been days since they'd touched. Tony had just been so busy, and then when they had seen eachother they'd been fighting about the fucking portal debacle from Tuesday and now, wow, it felt so good to be touched. The care, the love, it seemed to seep out from Steve's fingers. He'd not even realised he'd been in fight or flight mode all day until he was reminded, right now, of how it felt to be safe.

"I shouldn't," Tony's voice was quiet. He shook his head.

Steve just nodded his. "Yes you should. Come on sweetheart. You know you need to rest. You're doing no-one any favours by running around half-delirious."

"I'm not half delirious."

"JARVIS told me you couldn't even undress yourself. And you're bleeding all over our floor, by the way." Steve's head nodded downward, and Tony looked to see that yeah, Steve was actually right. There was a smattering of small, delicate crimson drops staining their cream tiles.

Tony frowned, recalling the vague memory of his thumb hurting. He glanced down, and spotted the nail that he'd accidentally removed about 20% of. It was a bad habit. Howard had absolutely fucking hated his nail biting - he used to rip Tony's hand straight out of his mouth if ever he got caught in the act, often taking the rest of the nail he'd had his teeth clamped around with it.

"Oh," was all Tony could say.

Without changing a shade, Steve moved again, hand slipping around Tony's and lifting it. He efficiently slotted Tony's thumb into his mouth, sucking off the blood, and then leaned sideways, delving into the drawer where they kept (amongst a plethora of other random assorted crap) the band-aids. He wound it around Tony's thumb, taking extra care to ensure that the raw skin of his cuticle was padded by the gauze and didn't touch the adhesive. When that was done, he shifted his attention to Tony's dress shirt, popping open the first few with frustrating ease. They'd definitely not been playing ball when it'd been Tony trying to make them open.

"It's time to call it a night," Steve told him. Now his hand was on Tony's jaw. His thumb was rubbing a little circle just in front of Tony's ear, like a massage, and God it felt so good that in that moment Tony lost sight of everything else. The work, the sting of pain, the frantic cacophony of 'do more, do more, do more' that had been looping uncontrollably in his head. The one thing that stood between Tony Stark and oblivion was Steve Rogers' right thumb, and man, it was fucking holding up.

Then, slowly, Steve pulled him into his arms. With one hand still pressing into the side of Tony's, the other circled around the his shoulders. They drew him into the impossible feeling of safety that came with being immersed in Steve's hug, and that was it. That was just it.

Tony sagged. He felt Steve's mouth press a gentle kiss against the top of his head. He was so, so, so fucking tired.

"Wanna go to bed?" Steve asked softly.

Tony nodded.

#stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #anyway. this is not what I intended on coming out with at all it was gonna be way more dramatic #but then. um. the grief.#so anyways instead I just used worlds best blorbo tony stark to project how my mind is working right now and it came out okay #another day another slay #my writing

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short-honey-badger · 6 months

Text

Shore Leave 3

Part 3 of this ever-growing series. Just can't help myself.

Warnings: Kissing. Some sad thoughts.

Masterlist

Part 1 -> HERE part 2 -> HERE

“Order whatever you want. My treat,” you tell John when the two of you arrive at the food stall. The smell of greasy burgers hits John's nose and his stomach roars. You snort at the sound as you examine the menu quickly before stepping forward to order. You live around the area and have been to this stall more than a couple of times.

While you wait, John takes his time before ordering for himself and then stopping beside you to wait as well. You take a chance and lean against the solid wall that John creates, lips quirked up when he shifts to better accommodate your added weight.

You hadn't expected your evening to turn out like this when you spotted the obviously overwhelmed man sitting by himself outside of the café, but you don't regret any of it. He was quiet, but you could tell that he was always listening to you, those sorrowful blue eyes following your every move. You aren't sure what pulls you to this man, but you don't want to stop it.

It's in a comfortable silence that the two of you eat greasy food, parked at the furthest picnic table. John had ordered a massive amount of food, and you watched in disgusted awe as he consumed all of it in no time. You glance down at your half-eaten burger and large fry before pushing the tray of fried potato sticks at the big man.

“Here. You can have the rest of mine.”

John looks up at you, those pretty blues making your cheeks light up. He licks his lips, giving you an uncertain look, “Are you sure?”

You nod and scoot the try closer to him, “Positive. You can order more if you want?”

John doesn't know how to react to the kindness of you sharing and buying him food. It's been a long time since he's tasted anything that wasn't a MRE or nutritional paste in a tube. However, he is sure that it is supposed to be the man who buys things for the person he likes. Gods he wished Cortana were here. She could tell him what the right thing to do would be.

“John? You okay?”

Your new friend had gone silent after your offer, his face shuddering into nothing, and you had quickly grown concerned for him. He meets your eyes again and nods once.

“My apologies. This is fine,” John assures you and even reaches out to take a fry and pop it in his mouth. You crack a smile and sip from your soda, content for now.

The super soldier takes your tray when you finish up, dumping the trash into the nearest bin, and then offering you his hand. You slide your fingers through his own and John gently squeezes them like you had his earlier. Even in the dim light, his enhanced vision can see the way your cheeks pink at the initiating touch.

The two of you walk back around the park, speaking quietly about easy subjects like the weather and what you like to do in your spare time. John was rather tight-lipped about everything, and you assumed it was because of whatever position he held in the UNSC. However, you did learn that he likes the color green and despises the color purple.

John glances up at the digital clock that has been installed above the bathroom stalls, and he frowns when he realizes that it is nearing midnight. He slows to a crawl, his gate hesitant. The Master Chief doesn't want to leave your side, not when he didn't have a way to find you after this. And John needed to see you again.

You look up at him and catch the slight scrunch of his brow. John doesn't look very happy, and his expression deepens when you speak up.

“How long are you here for?”

His hand tightens around your own, “Only two weeks.”

It's your turn to frown this time, and you sigh quietly in disappointment. Damn.

“Here I was hoping you'd have longer than that,” you say and stand before him, chewing on your lip as you debate on what to say.

John has never had a good enough reason not to want to go back on duty, but he has one now, and John wasn't one to easily give up on what he wanted. Lasky had given him two weeks, and he would be sure to make the most of it with you. He likes to think that the captain and Cortana would be proud of him for finding someone who could bring out his humanity.

“I understand if this is too forward,” John begins and stops to give you his full attention. He is a bit nervous to ask this, but the worst thing you could tell him would be no.

You raise an eyebrow at him, licking your lips, and prompt, “...But?”

“But it is getting late, and my friend once told me that a gentleman should always walk his date home,” John remarks and silently thanks Avery Johnson, the grizzled sergeant would have been overjoyed to see the stoic man use his advice.

“I can make sure you get home safe.”

The grin you reward him with is brighter than any Covenant plasma, and the spartan feels his heart speed up when you reach out, curling your hand along his shoulder to guide him down until you can press your lips to his cheek. You hear him suck in a sharp breath at the touch, his flesh pale and sensitive from being hidden behind a helmet for so long.

You drop back down and catch his eyes, “I’ll lead the way, Soldier.”

John isn’t expecting the way his body reacts to the nickname. He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss more demanding than the last. You squeak but quickly kiss him back, lips fighting to get on the same pace as his. His free arm wraps around your waist, and the Master Chief takes note of the way your soft body melds against the harsh plains of his own.

He kisses you until you begin to push against his chest, and John is quickly reminded that you are a normal human. As he ends the kiss, pulling away just enough to rest his brow against yours, and realizes that the thought had left a bad taste in his mouth. He had so much blood on his hands, alien and human, why would you want to be with a machine like him?

It takes you a second to catch your breath, but it takes even less time for you to notice that something is wrong. The furrow in his brow was deep, making the scars that littered his face stretch and catch in the street lights. You thought he still looked incredibly handsome even with such a dangerous look on his face. You take a chance, squeezing the hand you still hold, and then slide the other one up to cradle his face.

“Think you can do something for me, John?” you murmur and smile softly when those blue eyes glance down and lock with yours. He dips his head minutely so you continue.

“Forget who you are for these next two weeks. Forget that you’re part of the UNSC. You’re just a man. You are just John.”

The request gives him pause, and the Master Chief almost denies you the second it leaves your mouth, but he stops himself. Could he do that? Would the world crumble around them if he took time for himself to just be John? He didn’t know, but he wanted to find out.

His voice is rough when he speaks, and you shiver when his eyes darken, pupils dilating when they catch your gaze, “Okay. I can do that.”

#reader insert #fanfic #fluff #halo x reader #halo combat evolved #halo tv show #halo fanfic #john x you #john x reader #john 117 #john #master chief #master chief x reader #master chief x you #shore leave

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peach-and-bugs · 1 year

Note

okay idk if ur willing to do this but dating college!vanessa hcs??

This one has been sitting in my ask box for a hot minute because it keeps getting lost among other asks, but here we go!

Dating Van in college

✰ So, this is gonna be under the same umbrella/Au as my what would the Yellowjackets study in college (no crash) headcanons because crash!Van definitely didn't end up going to school after being rescued. So based on that, Van is studying film!

✰ I think had she gone to school she would have really enjoyed it. She'd like to come into her own and grow outside of her hometown and family

✰ She's not really a drinker, so I don't see her going to a lot of bars, so I imagine you'd meet her in a class or the library. When you've caught her eye, she'd start out by just kinda watching you but not in a weird way. She just starts seeing you everywhere she goes, and eventually, you mutually start waving and smiling at one another in passing

✰ Someday she'd finally get the guts to introduce herself and start a real conversation. I could see her using the excuse of sharing notes in a shared class you have as a way to get your email so she can talk to you more

✰ She tries really hard not to seem too eager or interested even though she really likes you. She doesn't want to scare you off after all. but after talking for a little while she realizes she's really into you and wants to ask you out, which is difficult given that she doesn't know if you like girls or not

✰ She'd either find out because you casually let it slip or she'd go with you to a party for once and see you interacting with another girl. She'd hate watching that from across the room, but on the bright side at least she knows she's got a shot now, right?

✰ eventually, she'd work up the nerve to actually ask you out and thankfully it would go well! After a couple dates, you'd make it official bc I just know this girl is a lesbian stereotype that wants you all to herself as soon as possible and she wants that girlfriend title so bad

✰ For a college girlfriend, she's not bad at all, but she's not perfect because no one can be perfect. I can see her struggling with communication at times because this is probably her first serious relationship after Taissa, so there's a learning curve for sure. But she does her best and she does work on herself, which is always a positive

✰ I think she'd really like going on dates outside when the weather is nice and having study dates at the local coffee shop that's connected to her favorite record and book shop on weekdays (definitely not referencing a coffee place in my college town). She's always down for a movie marathon in her apartment, snuggled up under blankets with a heaping of snacks

✰ She's also always giving you random things she finds, like rocks and leaves or little things she finds when she's out shopping. Some of them can be very stupid, but as long as it'll make you laugh it's worth it

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡chit chat with kay♡#ask box #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets thoughts #yellowjackets headcanons #van palmer #vanessa palmer #van palmer x reader #vanessa palmer x reader #van palmer headcanons #vanessa palmer headcanons

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months

Text

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: blood, violence, knife violence, threats, weapons

AO3 link

Chapter 10 - Kaz

Kaz cracked his knuckles, surveying the blood splattered across his gloves. The man in front of him whimpered, leaning as far away from Kaz as his restraints would allow. His nose was broken and spewing blood faster than one of the ugly city fountains outside the exchange. Kaz’s clock was ticking down - he was supposed to meet Inej in only a few minutes, and he needed to get back to the Slat yet.

“Are we done here?”

He opened his mouth, only for more thick, black blood to spill over his lips and drip down his face, bubbling in the corner of her mouth. Kaz sighed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Money by next week, you skip town and I put a bullet in your skull. Nod if you understand,”

He nodded.

“Good,”

Kaz turned on his heel and snatched his cane back from Anika, who was standing in wait next to him, and they began to pace back together.

“What time is it?”

“Almost five bells,” said Anika, before shoving her little fake-gold watch back into her pocket, “How much does he owe you?”

“A little north of three thousand kruge. You would know that if you read the paperwork I gave you,”

Anika shrugged, and Kaz rolled his eyes. No wonder anyone else ever got anything done around here.

Almost five bells. He was going to be late - he’d have to forgo the Slat and go straight to meet Inej.

“There’s a line of credit waiting for you at the Crow Club,” he told Anika, “Keep the tables busy. But I need you to stop and update the old man first - and tell him I’m changing some of the shift schedules,”

There was a particular bruiser at the Club that Kaz wanted on a new pattern, so he could see if he was right about him - Big Bolliger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins, tossing them to Anika; her money for tonight’s job, which seemed more than generous considering she threw two punches then just stood there holding his cane.

“Tell Jesper he has a line of credit as well, but only for the Crow Club. He wants to wander off and get himself into deep shit again I’m not digging him out of it,”

Anika nodded and turned away, as Kaz began to make his way to the meeting point to see Inej. Halfway between East Stave and the University District would be the Financial District, but there was no safe place to meet undetected in the area and Inej could traverse the city much more quickly and subtly than Kaz could, so they were to meet in the Barrel - far South, below the Staves, where the tourists were fewer and the drinks were cheaper, if you cared about that. Kaz wasn’t drinking tonight and he sincerely doubted Inej would be either, but it was hardly a suspicious meeting place for two Barrel rats to wander into a rowdy bar even if they didn't order anything. The hope was that it would be busy enough no-one could overhear them, and far enough away from their usual haunts for anyone to try to do so anyway. By the time Kaz arrived, bad leg complaining at every step in the sudden turn the weather had taken to this damp, drizly misery, Inej was already inside. Kaz nodded to the barkeep and waited for two waters to be placed in front of him, then slid into Inej’s otherwise empty booth. Only when he planted the glasses on the table did she look up.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,”

“I was delayed,” he replied, picking up his water without making eye contact.

“I can see that,” Inej murmured, and Kaz realised that her gaze was focused on the blood splattered across his shirt.

He sighed - he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Inej’s righteousness tonight. Or this morning, actually. Dawn was just beginning and the distant, dreary sun leaked through the clouds and crawled over the window sill to vaguely illuminate the booth Inej had chosen. She always chose somewhere with a window, if it was an option. Kaz looked up and saw the sunlight catching in her oil black lashes, fanning lightly over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes to the table and collected one of the discarded menus laying between them. The sky was pink and yellow and golden orange, and when she glanced back up Kaz could see the reflection of it shimmering in Inej’s dark brown eyes. Even the pale, dreary sunlight could turn to glitter in her eyes, like stolen stars shimmering at him across the table. He tensed.

“Well?”

“Well, all the food here looks terrible,” said Inej, sighing and dropping her menu back onto the desk, “I love Nina but she's a terrible cook; I need real food. But in other news, we have a problem,”

“Problem?”

Inej drummed her fingers against the desk, eyes still flicking through the disappointing menu.

“I’m not sure local fish is as appealing as they think it is,” she mused, “I’ve seen the water here; there’s nothing good living it,”

Something about the environment of the city? Kaz didn’t have time to crack codes Inej was making up on the spot. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but just as he did she glanced up at the other patrons of the inn, then went back to idly skimming through the menu. Kaz followed her gaze, and his eyes found a Black Tips tattoo sitting at the bar. Dammit - it was a good job Inej was paying attention, because apparently Kaz wasn’t.

“Maybe that’s because they’ve taken all the fish out. What’s the problem?”

“That,” she said, turning over her menu to look at the drinks, “The fish is gone,”

Kaz almost choked on his water.

“Excuse me?”

Inej looked up.

“You lost the target?” he hissed, leaning forwards over the table.

Inej’s eyes flashed so briefly that Kaz thought he might have imagined it. He flexed his fingers over the crow’s head of his cane as he leant back again, attention flicking towards the thug at the bar. The bruiser wasn’t looking in their direction but that didn’t mean he didn’t know they were there, and if he’d seen them he’d surely recognised them. It wasn’t an unimaginable thing for them to be here and it wasn’t an unimaginable thing for this to be a coincidence, but Kaz didn’t trust coincidences. Neither did Inej, but fate and rotten luck were a debate for another day.

“Oh, they do cocktails,” she smiled, “I didn’t expect that,”

Something out of character had happened - rotten old inns at the bottom of the Barrel didn’t serve nice cocktails and rich kids with question marks on them didn’t just disappear - and Inej hadn’t been ready to respond to it. Kaz sighed, then begrudgingly took the bait.

“Are you going to order one?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” she mused, lightly, “the last time I had something as strong as these my head ached an entire week,”

He’s been missing for a week.

“A week?” Kaz spat, struggling to control his tone.

“Well I thought maybe it was just illness,”

He missed a few days of classes, but people get ill and when they get ill if they’re rich enough they stay at home. It wasn’t worth reporting on.

“But now I’m quite sure it was something else,”

Something else is going on - something more sinister?

“So I had a good think about what could have caused it,”

Scoped out the house, probably the university offices too, just looking for news.

“And I decided the solution was probably to quit drinking,”

Kaz frowned. Had he followed that one right?

“You mean-?”

“Withdrawn,” she dropped her menu and lifted her glass of water to her lips, “Completely out of nowhere; no word of anything since. I felt completely rotten, I’ll tell you, holed up alone in my room and didn’t speak to anyone for days,”

There was a pause. Kaz nodded, slowly.

“There’s nothing I want to eat here,” said Inej, standing up, “We should go back to the Crow Club,”

Kaz stood, leaning heavily against his cane. His leg was grateful for the brief reprieve but Inej was right; they needed to move, so they could lay this out properly and so they were out of here before that Black Tip got ideas. Only they were too late for that.

As soon as they both stood up the bruiser turned towards them, a wicked dagger gleaming in his palm. Kaz sighed as several other patrons came to alert along with him, all drawing their weapons. The rest of the inn either panicked, fell completely silent, or both. Mostly both, actually.

“What business?”

The bruiser at the bar grinned.

“Not business this time, Dirtyhands,”

“Everything’s business,” Kaz said, catching Inej in the corner of his eye.

He didn’t risk a nod, but she didn’t need any more signal than that fleeting moment of eye contact.

“And as flattered as I am that you’d go through all this just for us,” Kaz pretending to swallow a false yawn, “It’s been a long night. If you’ll excuse me,”

He took a step forwards, smiling at the sudden intensity that took hold of the motley crew surrounding him. They actually looked a little afraid - he was down by at least five men, his chance at a head count had been brief and the odds were about to swing in his direction but it was a fair estimate, and was yet to draw a weapon. And they were afraid.

“You ain’t going anywhere,” snarled the thug who’d moved away from the bar to close in on Kaz, apparently some sort of ringleader to this group of clowns.

“I don’t know what your boss is after,” Kaz said coolly, “but you can tell him that he won’t get anywhere by having me killed - first and foremost because I have a nasty habit of coming back from the dead. And secondly-”

Kaz’s cane whipped around the back of the bruiser’s legs, finding pressure points in the the back of his knees to bring him stumbling to the ground whilst Kaz grabbed his arm and thrust it backwards until he felt the shoulder popping out the socket. The dagger clattered towards the ground and before anyone could draw breath Kaz’s good leg had come down on the handle so it spun upwards and he could catch it midair in his free, gloved hand. He pressed the blade against the bruiser’s throat.

“- because I don’t take kindly to threats. What’s your name?”

Silence. Kaz pressed the blade closer to the bruiser’s neck, so it just began to break the skin.

“What’s your name?”

“Velthuis,”

Kaz smiled, slowly.

“Even if you manage to kill me today, Velthuis,” he crooned, leaning closer, “you’re starting a war with the Dregs. You really think the Black Tips would survive such a proposition? Because I’m not sure they would,” he tightened his grip on the dagger, and Velthuis released a slight, pained yelp, “I’m definitely sure that you wouldn’t,”

He released him, and stepped back. Kaz had no more intention to start a war with the Black Tips than they did with him; he wasn’t going to kill one of their own in the middle of a busy inn with their own gang members watching, whether he could plead retaliation or not. If they were going to have to fight their way out of this, he needed this skiv to draw first blood.

“He don’t want you dead,” blubbered Velthuis, shaking his head, lifting a hand to the bare scratches Kaz had left on his neck as though they were an open, gaping wound, “Not yet, anyway,”

“What does he want?”

“Information,” he spat, “He wants the-”

Velthuis stopped, looking around and finally realising that Inej was no longer standing next to Kaz.

“Where did she go?”

“Who?”

“I - the Wraith, she was -”

A body thudded to the ground behind Kaz. And then another. And then another.

They were still breathing, he was quite sure, but they’d be incapacitated for some time. Kaz smiled as he watched the horror spreading across Velthuis’ face. He stumbled to his feet, trying to back away from the sudden carnage, and fell straight into Inej’s knife as she appeared from the shadows behind him. He cried out as she grabbed his shoulder and leaned over, a second knife now pressed against his throat in as many minutes.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she breathed, “But you can tell your boss I’m not interested,”

“Let’s move,” said Kaz, turning towards the door.

She forced the bruiser to his knees and patted him lightly on the head, then walked to the door with Kaz following in her wake.

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