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voidselfshipp · 5 months ago

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Nephilim Cuddlepile

Cw:mild injury (bruising).

Summary: in a small adventure,the four horsemen and their beloved,find themselves in a desolate outpost for the armies of heaven. This lack of presence allows them to indulge in a softer side of themselves.

>Only mutuals allowed to reblog. ( I reccomend to look up how the Lost Light area of darksiders 2 looks like since its what I used as inspo)

> @tex-treasures (I havent shared my writing in a long time and I wanted to share it with you!)

In a small treasure Raid, a small favor for Nathaniel and Uriel,the horseman find themselves on a lost outpost for the Angel army of heaven. And to cross one of the large islands to the Next,Death Wields the power of the void Walker to transport his siblings along.

Jerico,keeper of secrets,simply flies to the island given their powers.

The rest however.....

Strife finds himself being launched through one of the portals that death summoned. He screams as he hits his whole body against a wall, a wooden Ledge hits him in the mouth of the stomach,and he falls ungracefully un the cracked tile floor.

His helmet comes off from his head and clatters on the ground to then jump and repeat the process up to Jericos feet who looks upon the nephilim with concern. She grabs the helmet and sniffs a little, turning her gaze to meet strife's yellow eyes.

The gunslinger smiles awkwardly and slowly stands up. He holds his girls gaze and says--...Hi-- his voice is raspy,like sandpaper on gravel, hes reasonably out of breath and his body feels sore. Hes trying to save face,and failing in the most charming way.

--Are you okay?

He stumbles his way to another part of the wall,away from the Landing zone and leans on it. His back hits roughly against the rock wall and he slumps into a sitting position,letting out a hard breath--just fuckin' peachy, rough Landing.

Both hear the portals zoom,then the scrape of metal against rock and then a dainty "clack" as Fury's heels hit the tiles.

--Cry baby--Teased the she-horseman,walking up to her brother and kneeling to eye level--take off your breastplate,let me make sure you didnt break anything you reckless donkey

--Hey! Death should aim better!--Complained strife.

--I landed just fine. I just didnt throw myself head first into it...--The woman answered,grabbing a few medicinal things from her bag as Jerico helps Strife take off his upper armor.

Thankfully,nothing too bad,just a large angry bruise where the wooden ledge hit him. No wonder it hurts a little to breathe,its right there on the mouth of his stomach.

Fury rolls her eyes dismissively and grinds a few herbs until theyre this pulp Like mix. She spreads it across the bruise while muttering some sort of incantation, and then pulls away once shes done.

--Itll start taking Effect soon--She added,not particularly concerned.

The three feel the earth shake as War slams into the Landing zone,ungraceful but unharmed. Then,the red Giant lumbers across to the group--What happened with this one?

Fury chuckled-- he hurt himself on the Landing

--See,this is why we call you the delicate one,brother.--War has the gull to smirk teasingly at his older brother,who simply scowls.

--Maybe if that walking cadaver was a little mindful...--Strife started,but then the portal zooms again and with his usual quietness,death approaches.

--This "walking cadaver" Warned you before you launched yourself into the portal,but as per usual,you didnt heed my words...--Interjected the eldest--how is he?--He asks to fury

--Im right here!--Chided the gunslinger--How dare you talk like im not even here?!

But neither the reaper or the she-horseman cared to reply--He'll be fine,badly bruised but his breath should come back soon enough, Few minutes,not much.

Death sighed,nodding along to the words--Ill send dust to scout the area, War and I Will check the map. Recover, brother,and be mindful of your desicions Next time

Strife muttered something, probably a crude comeback, and closed his eyes to try and regain his breath. Fury stood up and simply took the time to Stretch her muscles and take in the scenery before her.

Jerico sits by the gunslinger,bringing him in for a careful hug and leaving the helmet on her lap.

He hugs back,pressing his head against theirs--Lucky you,you got to fly here,no shitty portals to mess you up

The keeper of secrets chuckled--Rest up,strife. Next time ill Carry you

--Sounds wonderful

She reaches one of their hands to stroke the side of his face,he purrs and leans closer. He revels in the warmth of his lover,their touch, she smells so sweet like coco,vanilla and green Apple.

The nephilim sighs,kissing across his lover's face--Fury said this thing Will take Effect soon...--He muttered between kisses--How soon is that?

--Given your magic nature...I'd say few minutes--she answered,leaning in as well to be closer. --Yall have a certain resistance to that sorta stuff

With a scoff,the gunslinger adds--Hey,since when are you a nephilim expert?

Jer chuckled--years living by your side has taught me a few things. I am nothing but observant.

--One day,you'll rival Death--Strife said,hopeful.

--Im sure i can get more info out of the grumpy ol' git if I just get the time to have him alone

The nephilim laughed,to then whince as his bruise throbs with pain--Ouch! Ah crap...

She shakes her head with a smile and kisses his forehead--Stay as still as you can

--Babe,im literally tilted the spirit of eternal unrest...

Jer snorted--Thats a you issue,my dear

Both share a complicit smile,the moment so domestic and fun. Hes about to say something else when the youngest horseman adds--Quit coddling Him for his own recklessness, it only spurs him on further

The keeper of secrets leaves the helmet to the side, she stands up,dusts herself off and turns to War,who is a few feet away from her--Now now,War...--She reprimanded,before being cut off

--You can just say youre jealous,bro--Strife said with a teasing smile.

--I am not...--the red rider and his stern voice usually gave off "dont fuck with me" energy,but its not like the gunslinger minded.

However, what they both did mind is the --Quit it! --Coming from both Death and Jerico with their "older sibling" voice,its awfully scary and unnerving when they both synch up like that.

Big sibling senses, they guessed

And theyre delighted to see that it does the trick.

Jerico kisses the forehead of strife,mutters something about him resting and goes up to War who looks at them dumbfoded. Was he going to get another reprimand? He'd rather not.

--What do you need,little one?--Asked the Giant red rider,he knows no ammount of sweetness can sway his lover,but he has the need to try because hes seen what his girls scolding is like.

But she shrugs,and begins climbing up his Giant prosthetic arm. She does so quite quickly as this is not the first time,her feet know where to lean on,her hands know what to Grab,and she ends up sitting on his shoulder pauldron without a Word.

--The floor was unconfortable?--He asked with a knowing smirk.

--And cold,youre Comfy and warm--she leans on his head a little,shes light as a feather and hes built, so he barely even feels it.

War chuckled under his breath,had it been anyone else using him as a chair,he wouldve thrown them into the sun. But not his little crow, he likes them being perched up on him like that.

Even death seems to indulge in a moment of sweetness as his hand reaches to stroke Jericos calf as he looks at the Map he was given. She revels in his touch and he smiles from behind his mask as she lets out lovesick giggles.

And fury,not wanting to be left behind, walks up from her spot nearby to then jump into the air. She activates the Storm hollow,floating idly behind her girlfriend,reaching for their hair.

--If i May-- she said softly.

--Oh hey!--jerico turns to see the she-horseman,her hair no longer magenta but now a yellowish white with soft streaks of lightning arching across her locks.--Sure

With careful touch,so unlike her,the black rider undo's the hairbun her girl has. First,she brushes out the hair with her fingers and then Gently combs it into a ponytail that ever so softly gets twisted into a bun and re tied.

--Thank you,my queen--the keeper of secrets said with a smile.

--Youre welcome--Fury hugs her from behind,burying her face on the crook of their neck,closing her eyes and taking in her girls scent.

Strife looks on,and stubbornly puts on his clothes and armor despite the throbbing pain on his abdomen. Then,he awkwardly walks up to his younger brother's free arm and begins to try and climb him too.

War doesnt say anything, being the sweetie he is. He allows his older brother to sit on his free shoulder without complaint,truth is he likes being so close to all his siblings. "Touchstarved" was the Word his beloved had used, he'd say that he wasnt ...starved..he just...missed It... Terribly.

Jerico feels their hand be held by the gunslinger,she turns to him and smiles kissing his lips for a few brief seconds.

And Death doesnt even care to keep up the ruse that hes looking at the map,he shuffles closer and his hand keeps stroking up and down jeri's calf.

What a sight to behold,the four horsemen being a cuddly pile. Thank god this place is abandoned...

They all linger for a bit,just in close proximity and not a Word spoken. Its an odd moment of domesticity,those up until recently have been few and far between.

But Thankfully, this is not the last time in their journey that they get to cuddle like this. because when night comes around, jerico has a quick dinner and goes to sleep against her lovely red rider,who embraces her without much thought.

Hes warm,and Comfy.

And since theyre within a large,grand room with Many routes of escape,Fury joins in soon after,leaning on War too with her back against his prosthetic arm. One of her forearms slings around it and she closes her eyes,none of the nephilim had a particular need for long periods of rest but just like food, this was nice so why not indulge?

Strife also saunters in, resting against his younger sibling's flesh and bone arm. He curls into a ball like a house cat and inmediatly conks out,he was safe there and his sibling was warm like a heated blanket.

And when Death was sure his bretheren and his lover were fast asleep,he joins beside his second oldest brother, draping a protective arm around his shoulder and bringing the gunslinger's head to rest against his trapezius.

Despite all the banter,he did care for Strife. He has fought older nephilim who picked on him,he had worried Terribly when he took longer than usual to come back from missions. They butt heads often,but its still his brother.

This behaviour Also translates to Fury,for he nodds at her and Dust Gently takes off the pale rider's purple cowl so the corvid can drape it over the sleeping she-horseman as a blanket.

Sweet,unruly fury. He has defended her too when male nephilim doubted her strength for being born female, Him and his other brothers have coddled her when her period rolled around and he had always made sure that she had everything she needed during that week.

He knew it wasnt a pleaseant experience,inevitable yes,but he wanted to make sure she didnt feel...alone.

Silent,perhaps not unknown sacrifice that the pale rider has done for his family. And sure,War had gotten the more "clear" demonstrations of care

But that didnt mean Death didnt worry for the rest of his siblings.

No,they dont always get along. Sure,theyve had their ups and downs.

--Youre thinking too loud--Comes the voice of his beloved, soft and heavy with sleep. She stretched her legs over to brush against the knees of Death--Rest up,Dummy

He chuckled-- Who Will keep watch then?

--We're the only ones in here,stop overthinking yourself into the ground. Rest

Death shuffles closer and rests his lovers feet on his shins. He closes his eyes and leans his head against strifes--If we die,thats on you-- he joked with that heavy gravel on his voice

--Very well--Jerico closes her eyes once more and its not too long before she passes out again.

Perhaps,just this once,they all can rest together,like a family.

#strife #war #death #fury #darksiders s/i

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grasscore · 1 year ago

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more bummer ramblings below

literally just sitting here crying my eyes out reading people's posts on the bipolar subreddit and like i dont know what to do with any of that.

i've been really scared that what i've been dealing with is addiction, because it felt like adhd impulsivity + stimulation craving but on steroids, like boosted to 100,000%

but idk the more i think about it all, it might be hypo/mania. like im basically nearing about 3 months of constantly just making connections between things in my head, sleeping for only a few hours a night, literally not doing my job, feeling extremely social but only online and completely neglecting irl relationships and responsibilities, not eating or drinking water, etc..

and some of it has been really good! like i have created some art and actually finished some shit for once whereas i usually just get really hype and start a project but never finish. so im happy about that, and i think its ok that i'm like.. trying to be more 'social' online because i work from home and because of covid don't have a ton of irl options for 'public' life. in ways it feels like an improvement to me where before i felt like absolutely 0 motivation at all, just sitting on tiktok for literally 6-10 hours per day (i basically havent even opened the app in like 2 months which felt like an improvement, but im now working WAY less even than when i was in that phase).. but the fact that this 'creative productivity and sociable/positive mood' is paired with me basically not doing my job AT ALL + not sleeping or eating, etc.. ive been feeling a little better in the past couple weeks because i thought like..maybe i have an 'addiction' or at the very least a destructive pattern so i thought the solution could be.. being mega aware of my actions at all times, meticulously tracking every hour of my day and recording what i do and making plans for every chunk of the day..which hasnt been hurting, it's helped me remember the really basic things, keeping my priorities 'straight' in theory. but every second of the day is this really uncomfortable restlessness and if i dont put my energy into a project or something that i'm excited about i feel like im crawling out of my skin.. ive been smoking like crazy. and now that ive finished my project i feel like im itching inside my skin lmao

idk especially reading people's posts on the reddit about how it's showed up throughout their life.. im just thinking about the year where i was 100% convinced that i was like.. in a simulation / samsara and that a meteor was coming.. and that i was getting visions of future iterations of the simulations thru my dreams. but i never told anyone about it because i was like,.. oh i dont actually believe these things, even though i'm terrified out of my mind thinking about them because they feel so real and if i see anything online that is slightly related to 'the simulation' or a meteor hitting earth i would spiral with paranoia and anxiety.

like i just feel like im screaming into the void in all my relationships trying to explain how out of control and scared i feel.. but everyone has just been like 'hey, it's alright, you seem fine to me, your standards for yourself are too high' and im like ok tell that to the fact i've worked maybe 5 hours a week every week for the last 3 months. like ive spent the last month pretty much terrified that im just going to keep making bad/impulsive decisions until i'm fired and/or dead

#idk #this is kind of long but the tldr of it is i think im coming out of a manic episode #and ive never really considered that i might be bipolar #but im reading some posts and .. wondering about it #because the severity of my situation rn is like...very detrimental to my wellbeing :-)

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tomyo · 10 months ago

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It’s too late at night, I’m alone in the void needing to emotionally regulate and failing and there’s too much I need to fix but I can’t do so I need to scream. I found a sign that the carpet beetle attack of 2021 got into places where I kept really important shite, my room is a full on mess and it causes an issue for everything but there’s only so much daylight I can operate during before I have to shut down, I need to get out of my family home but I need a car to live elsewhere unless it’s nyc which yeah not gonna happen anymore, to get a car I need money, to get money I need a job that pays like a fuck ton, but I’m not even getting a fucking part time job now, and like there’s 5 other things that are weighing so much on me. And I’m gonna be really real, someone I kinda liked a little I know had to move back home and is now dating someone and idk if that means they got out of moving home already and I feel like a fool or they just managed to have a functioning relationship unlike me and I still feel like a fool. Also also hahaha I can’t deny that I hate my weight just a little bit. Like for a while it really was more about the fact I couldn’t fit my favorite clothes but I don’t like how my face looks. I can’t get around that. I don’t even think it’s the weight that bothers me just the way this fat sits on my face. Im not saying this for some attempt to being “I’m not fatphobic but” but I see other heavy people and it sits so right, like it’s well distributed on them where I just feel like poorly mixed dough. Hitting a new heaviness threshold is fucking with me a little and I feel like I just don’t understand my face anymore. It’s the realest definition of dysphoria because I see myself in the mirror and I’m fine but every photo freaks me out. And it’s one of those things where people where obsessing over my looks 10 years ago on here that I feel like the only thing I ever had going for me came from that. I wish I could just reset to a save point or some shit and try to change something around so I didn’t end up here. 2020 was ironically so hopeful and I’m fucking mad at missing all the opportunities that were in the table.

#tomyo says shit #vent #bpd #dysphroia #mental health #environmental hygiene

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captaincherrie · 2 years ago

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Nefarious pt. 5

Aaron Hotchner x OC

summary: In a constant game of life and death, two people meet. Changing their lives and those of everyone around them.

Trigger warning: If you are not in the right headspace, or are sensitive to this type of content, please scroll by! Put yourself first! This is purely fiction and is not based on any real events!

Warnings!: murder, unintentional murder, death, suffocation, broken bones, mental health problems (psychosis), child death, HEAVY ANGST, crying, yelling, no cute scenes this is just pure angst

AN: The 5th part is finally here. I usually don't write stuff this angsty and graphic, but I felt like I needed to for the sake of the story. This is a criminal minds fanfic and it wouldn't be like that if murder and tragedy didn't happen! That being said, I worked very very hard on this part and took a long time to get it right. I feel like it came out the way it was in my head. Although this is a very heavy chapter, Im very proud of my hard work. As always: let me know what you think! I really appreciate that!

disclaimer: I do not own criminal minds or its characters. The only thing originally mine are the characters and storylines I created!

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The Wrong Side of Heaven

Arthur Schopenhauer said “mostly it is a loss that teaches us about the worth of things”

Ben, Scott and Aubrey all sat on the small couch standing in their aunt’s house. A cartoon was playing, but none of the children were really looking at it. Scott and Ben looked down at their feet as the tears silently fell down their cheeks. It was only Aubrey, who was still too small to understand, that was crying and screaming uncontrollably.

Their aunt clutched her head as she shouted at little Aubrey, not being able to withstand the noise coming from the 5-year-old.

“Stop crying!” She yelled, “Just shut up and be quiet!”

As if something snapped inside of Megan, she grabbed the wrist of her niece, roughly pulling her up. Dragging her towards the stairs, she paused and turned for a moment.

“Mommy is gonna bring your sister to bed now, be good.” She smiled sweetly at the boys on the couch. Ben and Scott shared a confused look before nodding.

When Aubrey and Megan arrived at the room with three small beds, Aubrey was still crying. Her crying didn’t seem to stop as Megan tried to pad her head in a consoling way.

“I want my mommy!” Aubrey wept.

Coarsely changing Aubrey in her pajamas, Megan lifted her in bed. However, Aubrey fought the movement until Megan grabbed one of her pillows. Putting the pillow on the little girl’s head, she started adding pressure until the movements started to slow down.

“Shhh, your mommy is here. Calm down now.” Megan shushed.

When the Aubrey’s crying stopped and her arms limply fell down her body, Megan removed the pillow. Her eyes were still opened, staring into the void. The life had left her not that long ago, she was still warm.

Megan smiled down at the body of the girl as she tucked Aubrey’s body in, crossing her arms around her teddy. Kissing the side of her head, she bid her goodnight as she walked away from her niece she just robbed of a future.

A defeated sigh left Josie’s mouth as she hung up the phone. The social worker she spoke to was not interested in telling her anything else but “they are fine” and “their aunt is a nice lady”. They had left 5 hours ago with no intention to come back until requested by the police department.

With a huff she moved towards the desk she had been sitting at to pack things up and call it a night. Looking at the clock it was already 11 p.m. Tomorrow she would make sure to see the kids, with or without Hotch’s permission.

At the same time Hotch entered his hotel room, it was a rare occasion he wasn’t the last one to leave the office or precinct. As he opened his door, he felt his phone buzz. He snatched his phone from his pocket as he heard the ringtone play.

“Yes Garcia” Hotch answered.

“Sir, Megan Barlow suffers from manic episodes. She suffered serious head injury from the accident and was prescribed a medicine called Fluphenazine, also known as Prolixin. However, Megan hasn’t been to the pharmacy to pick up last months order. Her psychosis contained mostly delusions and hallucinations.” The blonde technical analyst finished.

Without a word, he hung up the phone. The hotel was 30 minutes away from Megan Barlow’s house, while the precinct was only a 10-minute drive. With a sprint he ran towards JJ’s and Emily’s room, knocking on the door without a wait. He ran around the hall, knocking on all the team members doors. As they all opened the door, they looked at his anxious demeanor.

“We need to go now! Get dressed now and meet me outside in 5.” He barked. Everyone closed their doors in a hurry to change in something appropriate.

With a sigh he opened his phone to call a certain brown-haired agent.

An unknown number flashed on her screen, “Hello, this is agent Lovejoy.”

“Lovejoy, its agent Hotchner. I need you to drive to Megan Barlow’s house now. Take reinforcements with you. Whoever you can find, be prepared for what you’ll see.”

“Sir, what is going on?” She asked reluctantly.

“Megan Barlow is suffering from manic episodes, without medication. She is a danger for herself and for those kids. Go now.” He ordered.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and with a heavy heart answered, “Yes sir.”

In the meanwhile, Ben and Scott walked upstairs to the room they were supposed to sleep in. Their sister already sleeping steadily in her bed.

Scott was fully changed in his pajamas as their aunt came in. Her cheerful spirit off-putting as she looked at them. Ben walked into the room with only his shirt and underwear on.

Before he walked towards his bed, he went to give his sister a kiss, like their mom always did. What he didn’t expect was for his lips to touch her cold forehead.

“Aunt Meggie, she isn’t breathing! She is so cold! I-I think she is dead!” Ben yelled.

Megan turned around, smile still on her face.

“Nonsense sweetie, she is just sleeping. Now listen to mommy, its already late. You have soccer practice tomorrow.” Megan answered in a monotone voice. She sounded almost robotic.

Ben jumped from the bed his sister laid in. “She is not sleeping! Please come look at her!”

The smile vanished from Megan’s face as she started walking towards Ben. Grabbing his wrist she spoke calmly, “You’re going to wake up your sister. Now go to bed.”

“No, what is wrong with you? Look at Aubrey!”

With a tug he freed his wrist from her grip. This only seemed to anger Megan more as she launched for him again. With a panicked look Ben made a run for the other side of the room, connecting to the bathroom door.

“Scotty, run! Go get help!” Ben screamed at his younger brother.

With a nod, Scott ran for the door of the room. However, this made Megan’s attention shift from Ben to Scott. With a swift turn she followed Scott down the hall. Ben followed the two with a dash.

“Stop with these games! You two have soccer practice tomorrow and now it’s time for sleep!” Megan puffed.

Instead of running for the stairs, Scott decided it was best for him to lock himself up in Megan’s bathroom. What he didn’t realize is that there was a second door for entering, connected to her bedroom. Instead of waiting in front of the hallway door, she made a turn for her own bedroom. Allowing Ben to get to the stairs already, where he waited for his little brother to come out the bathroom.

Afraid his brother wasn’t getting out in time, Ben screeched at him, “Scott, she is coming! Hurry, get out of the bathroom!”

Unlocking the door, Scott came running for the stairs. Ben and Scott tried running down fast but Megan followed rapidly behind. With big strides, she grabbed onto Scott’s pajama collar. The tug on his collar made his head collide with her hip, which made his feet slip from the step he was originally standing on. Megan’s reflex kicked in as she released Scott’s collar as soon as she grabbed it.

With horror Ben and Megan watched as the little boy tumbled down the stairs, landing with a sickening crack. Scott wasn’t moving and his neck was bend in an awkward angle. He laid silently at the foot of the stairs.

Ben looked down at his brother, “Scott!”

It didn’t take long for reality to kick in. Ben realized Megan was still on the stairs, only a few feet away from him. His heart raced as he ran for the door, passing his brother in the act.

Megan ran after him, “Come back you little shit” You listen to me now!”

Never had she driven this fast. Never had she run as many lights as she had now. Luckily for her, she was alone in the SUV and the roads weren’t busy at this hour. Police cars escorting her with sirens blaring also made driving towards the house a lot easier.

As they almost reached the house, a small blonde figure came into sight. He wasn’t wearing much else than a pajama and underwear and it looked like he was running for his life. He didn’t stop running until he touched the first police car with his hand.

Josie made her car come to a halt, jumping out, not even bothering to close the door. When she almost reached Ben, she saw the reason he was running. Megan came into sight, a sneer edged on her face as she was running after Ben.

A few police officers stopped her before she could reach Josie, Ben hiding safely behind her leg. Only when Megan was cuffed and seated in the car Ben dared to speak.

“Miss Josie, she- she.” Ben tried to whisper, adrenaline leaving his system.

Josie bend over to get to Ben’s eyelevel. She moved her hand through his hair as he started to cry. That’s what it took for Josie to take Ben into a bone crushing hug, without intending to ever let go.

Another car stopped at the scene, out came Katherine Cole. In a straight line she walked towards Josie and Ben, who were still hugging each other.

“Josie, I think its best if you’d look in the house first. I’ll stay here with Ben.” She spoke as she softly put her hand on Josie’s shoulder.

With a nod, she let go of Ben. His cheeks tearstained as she wiped them with her thumb. “I’ll be back soon. You stay here with Katie, okay?” she whispered to the boy.

With a silent nod from Ben, Josie stood up. Turning around, she walked up to the house. Two officers stood outside the door. One of the men made eye-contact with her, shaking his head as she walked up to the door.

From that moment things seemed to move in slow-motion.

When she pushed the door, she saw a white sheet lying at the end of the hallway. A forensic photographer moving around it. Taking pictures of everything that could lead to or was evidence.

With small steps she reached the men photographing, looking at him with questioning eyes. He bent over, lifting the sheet slightly. Revealing a bruised looking Scott, neck broken from the fall he endured. She stared for a moment.

There was a loud ringing in her ear as she looked at the man again. He was speaking but no noise seemed to come from him. Tears pooled in her eyes, she blinked at him a few times before she saw him pointing up the stairs.

Walking the stairs felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders. Already dreading what she was about to see.

The whole hallway upstairs was crowded with police officers. They sheepishly looked at her. She neared the doorway to a room that seemed to be a children’s one. Taking a deep breath, she stepped around the corner.

What she saw made the tears leak from her eyes, tears she had been fighting so hard since entering the house.

Infront of her was little Aubrey, clearly lifeless as she laid still in her pink bed, holding her stuffed animal.

Almost as if in a daze, she walked towards the exit of the house. The ringing in her ears only growing louder.

At the entrance she found her trusted unit chief Katherine, opening her arms to catch Josie in a warm hug. Looking over her shoulder, Josie saw the BAU team had arrived.

As Katherine led a crying Josie away, they came to face the six members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Every one of them looking as stunned as the next one.

With a quiver, Josie looked at them before taking a seat on the sidewalk. Katherine moving to the side to talk to the sheriff. JJ came to sit next to her, offering her an arm to cry on. Silently they sat together, weeping about the tragedy that had just occurred.

Minutes passed before JJ and Josie decided to get up from the spot they had been sitting at. When they stood up, Josie heard someone clear their throat behind her. As both JJ and Josie turned around, JJ was queued at to let them have a moment

Aaron looked at Josie and Josie looked at Aaron, a second between them passed in silence.

“You, uh, shouldn’t blame yourself for this. We had no idea this would happen, and you handled it very well.” Hotch spoke hesitantly.

A scoff escaped Josie’s lips; her eyebrows flashed up in surprise.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t blame myself. I blame you”

She pushed past him. Walking towards the car, only to leave the unit chief with a heavy heart.

When the BAU arrived back at the office, the case was wrapped up. Megan Barlow confessed to killing her sister and brother-in-law, which send her spiraling. The manic episode she endured yesterday made her forgetful about the death of her niece and nephew. She would receive treatment at the jail she would stay, for how long was still to be determined.

As each member of the team walked to their desk, they started doing paperwork. Writing up their reports of what happened. The mood was heavy, making the writing of the report extra hard.

Suddenly JJ’s phone rang, revealing a Maryland phone number.

“Yes, this is agent Jareau” she answered the voice on the phone.

A moment passed before she spoke again, “Alright ma’am, thank you for letting me know. We’ll be in touch.”

Walking towards the group, she broke the news she just heard. The group huddled together in gossip, while their unit chief came walking back from the break room with a cup of coffee in hand.

“What is going on?” he questioned.

The group broke apart as they all stared at him. JJ turned around and took a step towards him to speak.

“Sir, Katherine Cole just called. Josephine Lovejoy has turned in her badge and gun. She quit.”

To be continued.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #nefarious #spencer reid #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x reader #david rossi #derek morgan #criminal minds imagine

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jiraiconfessional · 8 days ago

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hello,, i really want to get involved with the jiraiblr community because it genuinely feels like a nice place to reside in and i feel it really would help me see that im not alone or anything but i’m really young ? (13) ive been struggling a lot mentally and idk just blogging your entire heart out just seems like a

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alright, so. i wrote part two first - i think this is a two part question, really. you're asking someone who has been on tumblr for about as long as you've been alive, so i went pretty ham on the second one being tumblr-specific please stay safe stuff. this part is jirai specific.

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if you're struggling, and the community seems helpful, then i get it. when i was your age i was in similar communities. being surrounded by people who understood, but also LISTENED, did save my life more than once.

some people in this community, like every community, are toxic. some people will try to outright encourage you to get worse. encourage you to wallow. encourage you to feel poorly. you need to have a balance - don't spend all of your time doomscrolling through people's negativity. it's helpful to know you're not alone when you're struggling, but make sure to take some time to go for a walk. or just sit somewhere outside, if you can. get some air. watch some vines or tiktoks or something. look at pictures on pinterest. keep a main blog just for your other interests. do art, or read, or listen to music. don't narrow your life down to just a few things - getting sucked in to any one thing isn't good for you and you'll stagnate, no matter what it is.

some people will give you shit about it. i am an adult, and people tell me i am too young to have experienced xyz ALL THE TIME. fuck them. you know yourself best. if that's your experience, if you feel like a part of the subculture, if you're struggling... only you can tell you who you are and how you feel.

i think that a lot of people overlook the mental health struggles of kids and teens. i think a lot of people see mental illness at something that just pops up one day as opposed to something that brews your whole life. i, as a person, tend to believe other people's own self expression. if you tell me your gender is like a fairy's kiss, so you use fae/faer neos and you're part of the trans community, i believe that you know yourself best and i believe you. if you're 16, and you feel like you have BPD traits and you relate to BPD posts on here, but psychs insist you have to be 18 to be diagnosed, i believe you know yourself best and i believe you. i have no dog in this race, so to speak. i believe that you are the arbiter of your own experiences.

i don't think, personally, that we should have to suffer in silence. if you feel like a ticking time bomb, if people treat you poorly because you're mentally unwell, if you feel like people screaming out into the void sound like they know how you're feeling. that's fine. i'd rather someone be supported, at the end of the day.

i've been using the internet like a diary for a very long time. since i was younger than you are now. it helps. i physically journal too, but it really helps to post yelling into the void and know that i am not alone. if you want to blog your insides out - a pain shared is half a burden. it does help to know that you're not the only one that feels that way. and if you find this community helpful, or relatable, by all means, welcome.

a lot of jirai do post NSFW topics, like harm, drug use, etc. but knowing about these things existing isn't going to make you do them, and you have to be responsible in avoiding anything that isn't right for you. i say this in my other part, but block people and tags appropriately, and stay safe no matter where you are on the internet.

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#💉🐰💞 anon~!#1/2 #jirai confessional

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blackfairy312 · 2 years ago

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i haven't made any concepts of komi with alhaitham or heizou yet beyond this one idea i really like: in like 30 minutes of having a 1on1 conversation with him, alhaitham and heizou would immediately tell that komi is full of shit. the difference is that alhaitham wouldn't care about making him admit it but heizou would be so dead set on figuring out what komi is hiding.

to go into detail. alhaitham would be like "something is off about this person. they are not who they say they are. however they don't seem malicious or evil so i won't waste my energy. if i get the slight hint that they ARE a threat, maybe i'll care." (basically the relationship that komi has with batman)

heizou would be like "ohh interesting. this person is hiding something. this person has got to be keeping so many secrets. i'll make them confess every single one. they are too suspicious to be left alone."

meanwhile komi has convinced themself that their identity as the master of the void/observer of the multiverse is irrelevant (cause it is) in this current "life" so they're just so entranced with the world of teyvat that they don't care if someone is suspicious of them or not.

alhaitham is very indifferent to komi for a long while. they keep running into each other by accident. komi knows sumeru is the hot spot for knowledge and being the nerd that they are they're fixated on learning everything they can about teyvat, so they're in the akademiya for most of their time in sumeru. sometimes they make small talk with alhaitham and then it slowly evolves into alhaitham spending more and more time with komi (mainly to get away from people, and since komi doesn't pester alhaitham, he likes their company). sometimes they just sit there in the same room and read in silence.

alhaitham probably invented komi to his house once so they could have a discussion about a topic komi found interest in, but alhaitham forgot kaveh was home so when they arrived and were just sitting in the living room as alhaitham is explaining something, kaveh walks in (probably in his pjs with messy hair) complaining about something and whining, only to finally notice komi sitting quietly and he screams and is like "HELLO??? YOU DIDNT TELL ME WE WERE HAVING GUESTS??? IM NOT EVEN DRESSED AND THE HOUSE IS A MESS AND-- wait... are you someone alhaitham paid to be his friend? WAIT. YOU.. YOU... don't you DARE tell ANYONE that i live here!! you BETTER NOT!!! if you ARE alhaithams friend... then you must be thinking about tormenting ME too!!!" and alhaitham just stares in silence as komi tries to explain themself to kaveh. once kaveh leaves the room, komi turns to see alhaitham smirking and he just goes "well. let's continue with our discussion."

any to heizou he's already super annoying and persistent so once he gets a whiff of suspicion from komi, he will NOT leave them alone!! if he has to take a case, he'll tell komi about it and say "it would be nice if someone could join me 😉" and komi tells him something like "i don't work for the tenryou commission? and i thought you liked working alone? please leave me be." whenever heizou doesn't have a case to work on he'll look around for komi and will ask if he can accompany them. komi usually says "no" but sometimes they roll their eyes and say "fine." and so heizou will tail behind them when they do whatever it is that they do when they're in inazuma. so heizou's hyperanalyzing everything komi does or says to people and will sometimes try to get them in conversations where he can try to get some kind of information from them. komi however can tell heizou's plotting something and tells him stuff like "if you're going to keep trying to butt into my business then i'm going to start avoiding you."

sara tells komi she's glad that they can keep heizou busy when he's not working and komi's like "??? what do you see him as? a child?? a dog??" meanwhile itto probably teases either komi or heizou whenever they're alone ("where's your boy/girlfriend at, huh?" "are you going to go pick up your boy/girlfriend later?" "you need itto to give you some love advice?"). to which heizou will tell him "no no i'm not interested in komi like that!" (he is). and komi will say something like "ew."

#oliverddp

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silencedsouls · 2 years ago

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Forgive the improper grammar but I needed release. This is a safe place for those who feel they need to be silent on what they feel.

Breathing

So easy yet so heavy

Second nature yet it's become suffocating

What am i to do when you were my reason?

What am I to do when i can only sit here

My chest becoming restricted

I feel everything yet nothing at all.

It's heavy

This ache i hold inside my chest.

The place you once sat

The place i wanted to hold you forever

It hurts

Why does it still hurt, I suppose I will never understand.

Yet, why can’t i let you go.

You’ve moved along

Yet i sit here still grieving

My head spinning

Tormenting me with these thoughts

These memories of only you.

Why is it only you

Day in

Day out

It is only you.

What more can I do?

Who can I go to?

My chest cavity feels empty yet over bearing

It’s like ive forgotten to breath

Why am I suffocating

All these smiles

Pretty sweet lies

Crowded places

Their voices are screaming bur I hear nothing

Feel nothing

No one to my side

I want to scream

I want to cry

But these walls are too thin

This place is not my home

I am not comfortable here

I hate being alone

I hate this pain

My mind has darkened

Ive begun second guessing

That day, was it worth it staying

Accepting this second chance

Why was i given it, thats what i use to think but now, i feel it was just a mistake.

Yet i would have never met you. Would that have been a good thing

I don’t knoe my place anymore. I’ve lost my footing

I use to know this roads, yet ive become lost

As if ive never been here before but i know this street all too well.

Im fine

Thats the lie always ready on my tongue.now adays

Everythings fine. I swear I’ll be alright

But this pain isnt okay.

This heart ache shouldnt remain

Youve moved on yet im stuck here

Stuck in the past

Stuck on the things that ive already lost

I feel like i wasnt enough

Im still not

These marks arent just natural

I want to make them more

I second guess who would miss me

I second guess my place

I wan tto get rid of this pain

Represents dont seem to work

Im afraid only one thing will

Ive been wanting to try it

Hoping for the void to call and win

Its gotten close

Closer than id like to admit.

Yet no one will ever know.

No one would ever see

Ive become an actor

A smile plastered on my face even as my chest pulls tight.

Yet, after my door closes, and im alone for the night.

The bottle spills and i lose my self once again.

Its become harder to find me

Who even am i

Who do i want to be

Do i even want to be alive anymore

Its become harder to find reason to remain

Im sorry that ive grown darker

I was hoping it would only be a phase

But this doesnt seem to want ot pass

Its become permanent

Something i cant just chase away

I want to act happy but its becoming harder as the days pass.

Why does it take such petty means to have someone listen

I hate being alone

Thats when my thoughts want to scream

Want to dig their claws into me.

Theyve become more persistent

Louder

Stronger

Theyve become many

They were once few.

I could handle them

But ive been struggling

I was better

So i thought

But it seems i was just prolonging whats inevitable.

Whats written in stone it seems

Im tired of it

Im tired of living

Im tired of trying

Im tired of guessing

Tired,

Self wallowing

Thats become my favorite pass time

My favorite hobby

It takes up all the free time i gave left.

This act

Its becoming more and more difficult

Its starting to sleep but im done pretending

Maybe this time. It will be the last.

Im tired of bleeding through this invisible wound

I want to make it end

I want to release this pressure but it will never be enough.

I want to be free but how can one be free from their own mind.

#deppresing thoughts #poetry #writing #poem #writers and poets #my poem

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busylilbee · 5 years ago

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It's been grey and raining all day and we're under a severe wind warning and since i live on the 11th floor of an apartment building I'm REALLY hearing that wind rn and just...jesus listening to the wind constantly rattle my windows and szwoosh like "wooOOOOwoooOOOOOOOwooOOOOOOOOOwooooooooOOoooOoooooOOOOO" is very unsettling and a tad stressful??

I had to drive to run an errand earlier today and my car was shaking from the wind 🙃

#theres n9thing to gain from posting this i jist felt a need to scream into the void #that i didnt know wind was such a bif thing here when i moved here??#ive never lived somewhere where wind is this batshit inasane ALL THE RIME #like the wind honesrly keeos me up like at least 2 days a week #but today its especially bad #were basically under a gale wanring everyday from spring to summer #but today my windows have been shaking all day and the sound of the wind battering the building is oddly loud #and im sitting here trying to do hw but its pretry impossible when im being bombarded with the wind sounds threatening to whoosh me away #like of course i know im fine #but #still #its weird and unsettling and i would appreciate it if it would STOP #yikes #personal #ignore this #if youre ever lokking to move to the eastern MA coast #be warned that it is really fucking windy #also #if rain is in the forecast that means its gonna be grey and raining ALL DAY not jist for an hour or so like in FL #sigh

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hisunshiine · 2 years ago

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—whims & inconsistencies | 4

→ posted: july 29, 2022

→ pairing: kim seokjin x poc!reader

→ genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, fluff, smut, angst

→ chapter rating: +18 / M for Mature

→ wordcount: 7.2k words (was not intended oh well)

→ chapter warnings: picks up with the fear but that ends fast, minor mentions of blood and wound treatment, lying, cursing, mentions of the assault, mentions of binge drinking, parent illness, thoughts of grief, PTSD, more lying, maknae line :(, tae is rarely sober, seokjin is the cutest in love, smut in the form of: making out, straddling, clothed shaft riding (this is a thing now), neck biting, marking, titty fondling, light nipple play

→ credits: @hobeemin for the most amazing banner idea. @peachiilovesot7 and @moonleeai, thank you thank you thank you, the story is flowing so well and i honestly could not do it without you!!

→ an: im doing my best to have updates weekly! but i am unfortunately an a d u l t, its gross, i know, but life keeps getting in my f*cking way T_T shup shup. If you would like to be on a tag list, please reply to this chapter or send an ask.

series masterlist map of Sonyeondan

taglist: @firesighgirl

Running down the road, your senses are all on overdrive as you attempt to escape from the three men chasing you. Your footsteps and breathing seem to be the only thing you can hear as you near the last block to safety. So when you run dead into a hard chest and feel the fingers dig into your soft skin, you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut and let out a scream.

“YN?!”

The instant you hear your name, you take a gasping breath and the scent of cedarwood and vanilla invades your senses. It helps to settle your nerves, but you still can’t shake the fear as you whip your head to see if you can see anyone behind you. You don’t realize that your legs are still pushing your forward towards safety, or that Seokjin is speaking to you until his grip on your upper arms tightens slightly.

“YN?! What’s happened? Why do you look so frightened?”

“I’m being chased by—” you stop before continuing on, your brain finally catching up with your mouth.

Seokjin’s leaning in closer to see your face, but you avoid eye contact, still searching the surrounding area for the three men.

“Chased by what? Are we in danger here?” He looks around the abandoned street, but sees nothing of concern. “I was looking for my brother—he should be home by now from the tavern, and my mom sent me out to search for him. But…he’ll be fine. Let’s get you inside, you’re shaking.”

Seokjin walks you down the rest of the way and turns to take you towards his house. The Kim residence is located in Highgate, but closer to the Citadel Market. You assume this proximity is due to the Kim family working closely with Lord Bang, and it is more convenient to have their residence closeby.

You’re quiet, and Seokjin allows you time to be in your thoughts. He can sense how scared you are, goosebumps still littering your arms as he walks with you. His arm is wrapped comfortingly around your shoulders, and in any other situation you would care about being seen as indecent…and yet, in this moment, with your dress ripped, your heart pounding, and your face beginning to throb, you couldn’t possibly care less.

Leading you around and down the small alley between his house and his neighbors, he pulls you through a side door that leads into the kitchen. It is surprisingly warm, with a low fire burning in the hearth, and the cozy space completely void of another soul.

“Everyone has turned in by now, so no one should find us here.” He leads you to a wooden chair across from the iron stove and oven. You sit, back to the large wooden table in the middle of the room, and he disappears into a small alcove, returning after a few moments with a metal tin you assume has medical supplies.

You watch as he busies himself around the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water for you before getting a bowl of water and a small, clean towel from an overhead cupboard.

The time it took to walk to his home and then watch Seokjin gather supplies is enough time for you to figure out what you’re going to say when he inevitably asks you what happened, and the question arises almost as soon as he kneels before you.

“What were you running from?” he asks, gently grasping your leg. You realize that your dress skirt is torn, with light flecks of your blood around the tear. He gently pushes your skirts up after looking at you for a moment for consent, and you nod before speaking. He picks up the small towel, dipping it in water to slowly clean the wound.

“I—” your voice is scratchy, vocal chords weakened from your scream. You clear your throat and start again. “I was being chased by wolves.”

“Wolves?!” Seokjin is incredulous, not fully believing your story.

“Yes,” you try to keep your voice from shaking from the lie. “There were three of them. They must’ve come in from the forest through the Highgate entrance.”

“But…I haven’t seen or heard of wolves being this close in a long time.” He doesn’t look at you, focusing on your wound, and you flinch when he adds alcohol to carefully cleanse it before covering it with gauze and a bandage.

“I have no idea why they wandered in. Maybe they were hungry? I threw my violin case at them, but I stumbled quite a bit as I was running away.”

“I can see that…you must have snagged your dress on fencing or something, and it looks like a bruise is forming on your face.” His fingers toy gently with the ripped sleeve, and you nod. You hate lying to him, but how do you tell him what happened without telling him who was behind it?

You trust him to an extent, and feel that he likes you a lot, but you aren’t stupid. The Kim family is of high prestige and to accuse his youngest brother of attacking you would surely make it difficult for him to continue to see you. It puts Seokjin in a strange predicament, and you like him so much…you hope that by keeping this secret, Taehyung and his friends will leave you alone and allow you this one thing for not speaking out.

“Thank you for saving me, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“I didn’t do anything but get you to safety.”

“I’m sure that your arrival must’ve scared them off.”

Seokjin hums lightly, neither in agreeance or dismissiveness, and you allow him to look over your scrapes, treating them one by one. Your heart rate had decreased once you had made it to his house, but now, as he asks you to sit sideways in the chair so he can treat your shoulder, you feel it pick back up.

Seokjin’s fingers are soft, yet determined in their movements. He gathers the hair that has come loose from its earlier style, brushing it to the side to expose your back to him. He tugs at the fabric, pulling it further down your arm and you shiver despite the heat of the kitchen.

“This one isn’t too bad.” His voice is low, words trailing across your exposed neck and you’re no longer thinking about the terrifying incident earlier. All thoughts are of Seokjin, how close he is, how his hands feel on your skin, and how you want to feel more.

You jump slightly when the wet towel touches your shoulder, and he lightens his touch even more. Your fright causes your hair that he set aside to swing freely back over your wound.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, leaning in close to your ear. You turn so that you can make eye contact with him over your shoulder

“I don’t think you could ever hurt me, Seokjin.”

He swallows hard, and your eyes linger on his elegant throat. You have the urge to leave it covered with ruby red marks of claiming, but a second later he clears his throat and you face forward once again.

“I hope I never do, YN.”

His thumb smoothes over the pebbled skin, broken from where you had been pushed against the brick wall, and you lean into his touch.

Seokjin can’t stop himself. When he sweeps your hair to the side again, leaning down, and presses his soft lips to your skin in a lingering kiss that stills you momentarily.

“Seokjin…” your voice is but a whisper, but he hears the longing in it anyways.

Turning to face him, you can’t help but to be the one to lean in, lips on his in a tender meeting as you breathe in the cedarwood and vanilla warmth of his scent. Pulling back, you open your eyes to see his still closed, lips still puckered in the kiss you placed there before his hands pull you back towards him, your own hands resting on his broad shoulders as he deepens the embrace, tongue seeking entrance into your mouth.

He lets out a groan once you allow him to taste you, and the sound lights the fire in between your thighs. You’re sure that you would continue on, that you wouldn’t be strong enough to stop kissing his plush lips, but the sound of a door shutting somewhere in the house brings both of you back to your senses.

Breathing heavily, the two of you stare at each other until Seokjin has the sense to rise from his knees and begin clearing away the medical supplies. You finish off the water he brought you, placing it gently into the sink once the cup is empty.

“Let me get the horse to take you home, you shouldn’t be out this late alone, not if there are wolves from the forest wandering around. I need to find my brother anyway.”

You agree, and once you’re back outside the Kim residence, he brings you to the other side of his home, where the stables are, and after a couple of minutes of watching him saddle the dapple-grey mare, he helps you atop the creature before climbing on as well.

Placing you comfortably between his legs, you lean back into his chest, pulling his warmth to you, and you set off down the abandoned road to the Jung residence. Along the path you don’t see your violin case, but make no mention of it to Seokjin, who is focusing more on how you feel wrapped in his arms as he leads the mare down the dark path.

Once you are close enough to the Jung’s, Seokjin gets down so he can help you, his hands wrapping around your waist to slowly lower you to your feet. He holds you close, the lack of lighting between homes providing some cover in the darkness as he takes liberties with telling you goodnight.

“I’m really glad it was you I stumbled into.”

“I’m really glad it was I that you stumbled into as well.” Smoothing down your hair, he looks over at the house, dark windows that have you both assuming correctly that the head of the house is already asleep. “Please be careful, you are much too pretty and far too precious to me to be hurt like this.”

You feel the pull again, the tightening in your tummy and the warmth building inside of you, and you don’t want to go.

“I promise, I’ll make sure not to go anywhere alone. I don’t want you to worry about me too.”

Seokjin smiles down at you, his hands still on your waist, and he uses this to his advantage to kiss your lips one last time.

“I’m afraid I will never get enough of you, Ms. YN.”

“Neither I of you, Seokjin.”

With one last kiss placed on your forehead, he releases you. He watches you as you disappear into the home, a quiet wave before you shut the door behind you and make your way to your room. From your window, you can see him riding back the way he came, his strong arms and broad shoulders outlined in the moonlight.

Kim Taehyung is no stranger to the pounding headaches that accompany the morning after long nights at the tavern. As the youngest brother of three, he has less responsibility and more free time to do what he wants. In this case, it’s sleeping in for a few more moments until one of the other warm bodies in his bed kicks his shin.

“Fuck, Jimin, do you always have to stretch when you know me and Kook are right here?”

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” he grumbles, rolling onto his side. “Fucking sore.”

“Taehyung, why is it so bright?” Jungkook whines, shoving his face into the down pillow to block out the sunlight streaming through the open window.

Taehyung yawns, standing as he walks over to the window and closes half of the curtains to lessen the intensity. His head swims, and his walk matches the feeling as he stumbles around his messy room, clothes and boots scattered around from when they got in.

Stepping over one of his shirts, Taehyung winces at the sight of blood, knowing the maids are going to complain about how hard it is to get out if it dries and doesn’t soak out first. With a low curse, he squats down, gathering the garment as he thinks back to last night.

He remembers overhearing his parents talking about the future, then heading out to meet with his best mates where he decided it was the best idea to drink until they blacked out—except Taehyung didn’t black out. Flashes appear in his mind: your face, your fear, the words he said to taunt you. Taehyung crossed a line he never thought he would with you.

Clutching at his head, he leans forward to shake the legs of the two still slumbering until they finally sit up to wake.

“I think—fuck, I think we really fucked up last night.”

“What are you talking about, Tae?” Jungkook’s eyes are barely open, two tiny slits with puffs beneath them.

“We, well…we ran into YN. You know, the one Jin-hyung’s been courting?”

“Did we? Who cares? My back is killing me.” Jimin falls backwards onto the bed from his sitting position, uncaring.

“I’ve got to tell Jin. I think we hurt her.” Taehyung stands abruptly from his squat, stained fabric forgotten on the floor.

Jungkook notices the panic on his face and his eyes widen as he realizes he’s missing something.

“Tae, wait. Tell us what happened…I don’t remember.”

Taehyung walks over to the vanity in his room, pouring water into the small basin to splash his face before staring at himself in the mirror. In the reflection he can see the other two watching him intently.

“YN, she was hugging Yoongi, I’m not sure why she was alone with him that late, but—”

“Wait, but your brother is courting her! That slut!”

“Jimin, wait, I think…” Taehyung trails off as his memories slowly remind him. He knows he was mad, not just at you but at everything happening, but seeing you with Yoongi pissed him off. You were walking home slowly, violin case in hand when they caught up to you. He knows he said some disgusting things to you; that’s been his constant interaction with women when he’s been drunk off his ass these past months.

“She had her violin case, I think she might’ve been with him practicing. He went to school with her and Joon.”

“Oh. So then why do we need to talk to Jin-hyung?”

“Because!” Taehyung turns away from their reflections to face their realities. “Because I put my hands on her! I think I kissed her, fuck, I think I hurt her.” The panic is apparent in his widened eyes, the way his breath increases as he begins to pace his room. Not looking at the floor, Taehyung trips over a large item—a violin case.

“Shit. It’s her violin. So it wasn’t a dream.”

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up, Tae. She’s not going to say anything. If she did, her reputation would be ruined.” Jimin’s words stop Tae’s wild thoughts. “Plus, we don’t have to tell Jin-hyung shit. I didn’t even do anything.”

“Really? Is that why you’re so sore? She threw her case at you when you and Kook over here tried to corner her. You’re the one who brought her violin case here.”

Jimin glares at Taehyung. “So? It’s in your room, not mine. I’m not going to tell on myself for something no one else knows about. She’s not going to say anything. No woman would ruin her own chances at a good marriage over this. Right JK?”

Jungkook is slow to respond, looking between the bickering older two before slowly nodding.

“I think Jimin’s right, Tae. She’s not going to say anything. She wants to marry your brother, right? If she says something to anyone, she would all but shame herself and your brother would either have to take her side or yours. And if he chooses her side…”

“He would be shaming your family name. She has no family. The Jung’s are just her guardians, and they will not be tainted by it. She only risks herself by opening her damn mouth. Seokjin would never dishonor your family name with everything going on,” Jimin finishes, eyes softening at the end as he alludes to the head of the Kim household being on his deathbed.

Taehyung sighs out a deep breath, torn. The other two begin talking to each other, shifting the topic to their plans for the day as they begin to wash up at the basin and get dressed. Taehyung understands their nonchalance—the other two didn’t press you against a wall and force you to kiss him, hell, they don’t even have the same marks that he does that show he was the aggressor here.

He hopes they’re right, but a part of him knows that you’re different, and not just by being ethnically different. He remembers the first night he met you at Im Nayeon’s debut ball, how you were able to stand your own against his vile words. And the fact that you do not have a family that would be shamed should you speak out could also make you bolder, instead of meek like the others suggest.

Taehyung can’t shake the feeling that he needs to do something about you.

Seokjin is up early, his thoughts revolving around you. He was barely able to sleep through the night, so he decides to start his day earlier than usual. Standing at the vanity with his shirt unbuttoned, he finishes shaving the last of the lathered cream from his face.

“Jinnie?” his mom stands at the doorway to his ensuite bathroom, lines criss crossing her face. Seokjin realizes that his mom looks more tired, and a flash of guilt runs through his chest.

“Yes, mom?”

“Can you come meet with me and your father? We have some things to talk with you about.”

Seokjin nods, wiping his face with a warm, wet cloth before buttoning his shirt as he walks towards his mother. She doesn’t say anything as they head down the dark hallway towards their bed chamber. Once inside, she makes her way to sit on the bed beside his father, holding his hand after motioning to the chair for Seokjin to take.

“Son,” the croaky voice is weak, and Seokjin can barely stand to make his father speak. He should be using his energy to rest. “We need to talk with you about,” he breaks off into a fit of coughs, and his mother brings a cup of water to his father’s lips. He sips slowly, looking to her over the mug to have her continue on.

“As you know, your father’s health is fading. We know this is the last thing on your mind right now, but it’s even more important that you choose a wife. We’ve heard you’ve been courting the YLN girl, but she has yet to have her debut ball so you cannot move forward with an engagement yet.” She looks down at her hand, twisting the ring his father had given to her many years ago.

“You cannot wait, Seokjin.” His voice is stronger now that he’s had something to drink. Seokjin is relieved, hoping he sounded so weak due to just waking up or some other related reason. “I know you want more time, but if I can be selfish, I would like to see my own son’s wedding.” Seokjin nods, throat tight with the emotions that have taken over and he sees his mother has turned away, a hand to her face as she hides her tears.

“I plan to make the engagement soon, father. She’s perfect for me. I will speak to Hoseok, see if he knows when the debut ball is planned for her.” His father pats the hand Seokjin has resting on the sheets, a soft smile on his face as he takes in Seokjin’s shift in demeanor. His father recognizes the look; it is the same one he had when he fell in love with the woman seated next to him.

“I won’t keep you, I know you have to get to the Citadel.”

Seokjin is thankful his father gives him an excuse to leave. It’s always so hard to see your parents fading in front of you, despite it being the natural order of life. Choosing not to dwell too much on his fading health, Seokjin returns to his room to gather his belongings before heading off to work.

His walk is easy; Seokjin doesn’t bother with the carriage when going to work since he need only walk five minutes to get to the citadel, three if it is not busy on the street. Today the walk is fast and pleasant, the autumn air refreshing for him as he makes his way to meet with Lord Bang.

Seokjin’s thoughts easily fall back to you in his spare time, and he realizes the things he told his father about you weren’t an exaggeration. Seokjin really did feel like you were perfect for him. In many ways, you were similar: both having an education, both enjoying the same things as the other, but also different in the ways that made a life with you exciting—he knows that everyday with you he could learn something new.

Despite this, Seokjin has his fears as well. You are a couple years younger and this new breed of educated women are different. He knows that you have goals you want to achieve, and fears that becoming the wife of Kim Seokjin would make those difficult for you. You would be in the spotlight and people would expect you to present yourself a certain way. He worries that those two things will clash, and if they did, who would you ultimately choose? Seokjin? Or yourself?

With a sigh, Seokjin walks into the Citadel, headed towards the Lord’s castle to check in for the day. His tasks are easy, Lord Bang having him follow up with various businesses in the Bangtan Trade and out in the Citadel Market on their loan payments and needs. As a banker, Seokjin is in charge of the accounts for the gentry and government, as well as wealthy businesses and manufacturers. He kept the books for Lord Bang for these accounts, documenting that due loan payments and taxes were paid in full as promised. Others who worked in lower ranks were in charge of collecting the fees and scouting for new potential accounts, while Seokjin would visit residences and locations to see how successful they were running and offer his services if they needed.

Typically business owners would share about how well they were doing or areas that they needed help with, and could request another loan to order more materials or for marketing in nearby towns. Individuals would turn in large amounts of money they did not feel comfortable having in their home or could request for a banker to stop by so that they could take out money for spending.

This type of job is mundane, with the best part being talking to owners and the gentry, but it allows Seokjin plenty of time to explore the city and think about his future, one that will hopefully include you. After a few hours, Seokjin has made all of the stops necessary for the day, and walks back along the storefronts towards the Citadel to complete the paperwork associated with his visits and drop off his books for review.

A music shop sits at the end of a street, so he takes a quick moment to purchase you some blank music sheets that you can use to create your own songs. Moving to gifts while courting isn’t common, but is not out of the ordinary. Many men court women who have yet to debut, but want to show the seriousness of their intent with their intended. Seokjin’s heart swells when he thinks of you, remembers your taste on his lips just last night and knows he is ready for this first major step.

After departing the music store, he notices a jewelry store a few shops down. The rings in the window glint with the sun's rays, and he can’t help but to walk inside to admire the gems.

“Welcome, is there anything I can help you with?” A man comes up to Seokjin where he has yet to move on from the glass case showcasing the most beautiful ring he has seen. The purple gemstone would compliment your complexion, much like the lavender dress he first saw you in.

“Oh, no sir. Thank you, I’m just looking.”

After spending most of the day tied up in work, Seokjin feels as if the music sheet gift he has bought for you is burning a hole in his briefcase. He eats dinner with his mother and middle brother, assuming correctly that Taehyung is out with his best mates. That has been his usual for months now, ever since their father fell ill.

Seokjin wants to take the time to talk to his younger brothers about the inevitable, but with taking over as a banker in order to continue to support their family and pay for the treatments and doctor’s services for their father, he hasn’t had the time. Add in the debut season and courting you, and the last thing on his mind is discussing the grief of losing their father at some point in the future.

Once back in his room, he freshens up after the meal and then grabs his case to go to your residence. He wants to check in on you after the fright you had last night, but also wants to follow up with his promise to his father to find out when your debut will be and then see if he can deliver his gift to you.

Saddling up the dapple-grey mare, named Apple, he takes the short trip to the Jung household, happy to feel the good weather has kept up. Seokjin smiles softly to himself, hope blooming in his chest at the action he is taking. As a true romantic, he is excited to see that he can possibly have everything that he’s secretly wanted.

It’s true—he was against marriage when he was younger, not liking the idea of having to choose some random woman at a ball who may or may not be all beauty and no brains, feeling like he was competing with all of the other eligible bachelors who seemed to be a better choice than he. But now that he has stepped into his new role, he started this season with more confidence in being a good choice, and as luck would have it, you fell into his sights early on and he was able to save you from the slimy Mr. Park.

The connection he feels the two of you have formed makes him excited for his future in a way he did not expect to experience. It reminds him of the stories his parent’s told of their relationship, and gives him hope that this will be a love match just as much as the two of you can provide each other with company, wealth, comfort, and duty. Tethering Apple to the post outside of the fence, Seokjin grabs his briefcase from the saddle bag and heads to the door.

Hoseok is a little shocked to be the one receiving Seokjin, but you’ve been under the weather all day, not leaving your room for any reason. Sitting in the parlor across from each other, Hoseok can sense the joy and nerves that accompany his friend.

“Hi Hobi, thank you for seeing me so late.”

“We’ve just finished dinner, but my parents are early risers so they have already turned in for bed. Not to worry. It is always a pleasure to see you, my friend.”

Seokjin fidgets with his fingers before looking up at his friend and cutting right to the reason for his visit.

“I wanted to know when your family plans to hold the debut for YN.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen marginally, clearly not expecting this question. He chides himself silently, knowing he should have—he has seen the way you and Seokjin look at each other full of adoration, the way you gush about him with his sister when you think he isn’t listening. It excites him to think of what comes next; he loves a good party, and there is nothing more that elicits many parties other than a wedding.

“I believe it is to happen in a few weeks' time. My father has been busy with school starting up again, you know he is the headmaster at the secondary school, but I can see if it can be moved up. I will talk with Mother tomorrow about it. The women know when the parties are and we mustn’t step on another debutante’s toes by stealing her date.”

Seokjin smiles widely, knowing that the women will be able to solve any issues in the way that they do: behind closed doors with giggles and sewing needles set aside as they secretly gamble with cards. He has caught his mother several times hosting these gatherings over the years, and knows very well how they haggle and make deals over womanly things.

“I have faith your mother will be able to swing a sooner date, and if she should need any assistance, my mother loves a good gathering.”

The two friends laugh at the knowledge they have of Mrs. Kim and her ability to sway others, before settling into a content silence. Hoseok breaks it by gesturing to the briefcase.

“Are there documents in there for my father or something?” he inquires, and Seokjin shakes his head, feeling nervous.

“Actually, it’s a gift. For YN. I know that she has yet to debut, but with it being so late in the season, I want to show that I am serious…that I am looking forward towards engagement.”

Hoseok chuckles, a little shocked to see his friend so ready to be taken permanently off the market. “I am sure that YN will be thrilled once I deliver it to her.”

“Actually, Hobi,” a sheepish grin crosses Seokjin’s face, “do you think you can offer me this one favor, and allow me a few minutes with YN? I want to give her this gift myself and see her eyes light up at it.”

Hoseok works his mouth into a side pucker, alternating left and right as he thinks about the request. He is apprehensive to give you and Seokjin privacy that his parents are not aware of, especially in the darkness of the evening, as he is responsible for you should anything untoward happen. It is not a secret that many families allow courting couples' privacy in the home to get to know each other, often after dinners held, but in those instances, the parents are aware of it.

Yet Hoseok knows Seokjin, and has seen how committed he has been to courting you, and trusts him dearly.

“I’ll give you five minutes, Jinnie-hyung,” he smiles as he uncrosses his legs to stand, “I wouldn’t want to rob you of the joy of gift-giving.”

Leading the elder to your room, he knocks and announces that Seokjin is here before he walks away down the hallway.

“I will be back to check in 5 minutes!” he teases, voice full of mirth.

Seokjin hears your footfalls as you come to the door, and he has to hold back a gasp at the bruise on your face. Of course, he knows it has to get worse before it gets better, but it still stuns him for a moment. You grimace at his concern, about to wave it away, when you pause.

The sound of a door down the hallway creaking open causes you to squint, and when a long-haired woman peers around her doorway at the two of you, you grasp Seokjin’s wrist and pull him into your room to avoid the prying eyes of Jiwoo. The two of you can hear her laughter before the faint sound of her door shutting.

Seokjin takes you in, noting the thin nightgown that falls along your frame. The light in the room shows your outline, and it doesn’t appear that you’re wearing anything underneath. He tries to pull his eyes away from the pert nipples that press against the thin fabric, instead focusing on the cute way your hair curls along your face, but memories of the kiss the two of you shared last night cloud his brain.

You have yet to let go of his wrist, tilting your head until you are able to gain his attention and ask him about his unexpected presence at your door.

“I wanted to check on you, and…I wanted to give you this.” He moves towards your bed, placing his briefcase timidly on the sheets. His fingers are nimble as they unlatch the metal locks and he grasps a stack of papers, a blush blooming across his cheeks.

“These are for you. A formal gift to show my intent.”

His eyes bore into yours and you can see your future reflected in his eyes. Taking the papers, you set them on your desk, smiling at the music sheets he has purchased. It means so much to you that he would buy you music sheets—it means he takes your goals seriously and doesn’t expect you to give them up to be with him.

You turn around after hearing him latch the briefcase back shut, and you notice he looks a bit tired despite his happiness. You watch as he lowers himself onto your bed as if in need of a moment of respite, and you walk over to him.

“May I?” Seokjin’s hand reaches for your cheek and you nod as his fingers delicately trace the bruise. You close your eyes as you feel his warm touch, leaning into it.

“Even with this bruise, you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever set my eyes on.”

This time, you know it is you who throws caution to the wind when you press your lips to his. Seated on your bed, he is at an easily accessible height, and your arms wind around his neck. His hands find purchase on your hips and he brings you further into his space, pulling you between his parted legs.

He kisses you breathless, and when you pull your mouth away from him for air, he continues his movements, lips seeking the soft skin of your neck where his teeth nip and his lips kiss and his tongue swirls to pull the softest sounds from your parted lips.

Neither of you are aware of your actions when you climb upon the bed, straddling his lap with just the thin nightgown protecting your now leaking cunt from feeling the grind of his hips as he pushes his erection against your core. Once you feel him, it’s too late to climb down—you don’t ever want to stop.

You whimper, and the sound drives him mad, it’s even better than he imagined when he touched himself to thoughts of you, and he tells you so.

“I imagined you like this. You sound so good, even better than I imagined.”

“I imagined you taking me like this, too,” you admit, unashamed that he is the main star in your fantasies. You reach down between your bodies, hands tugging at his trousers and you have no regrets when your small palms free his cock to the air. He lets out a hungry groan; a hiss as your warm hands fondle his hardened length, and you can’t help yourself.

Laying his cock flat against his trousers, you lift your hips and pull your gown up until your barely clothed pussy is free to sit mostly unhindered against the length. He shudders at the feeling of your damp, thin, underwear on his skin, and when you slide along his shaft his hands tighten at your waist to slide you faster.

He wants to be inside you; he feels the heat of your core and when you clench around nothing, he feels how needy you are to be filled with him, his cock buried so deep inside of you all you can think about is more of him.

“I love the way you sound, angel,” he says desperately, his hips rolling under you to elicit your moans again, “all for me.”

“Just you, only for you,” you pant, frantically riding his shaft, chasing the feeling you previously have only been able to provide yourself. His hand tangles into your curls, and with a quick tug he exposes more of your neck to him as he continues to lick and suckle your skin. His free hand slides the top of your nightgown to the side so that he can reach hidden flesh, teeth latching on to the sensitive skin so that he can place marks, claiming you as his.

You groan, enjoying the way his mouth feels; his lips are one of your favorite physical features by far, though his massive cock you ride is quickly becoming number one. His hand moves from your shoulder to your breast, where he cups your ample bosom, his thumb skating across your nipple that he so desperately wants to taste. His hand continues roaming lower, and you are about to beg him not to stop when his hand trails up your thigh.

You can’t stop the way your brain remembers the attack: the way his brother pinned you to the brick wall and forced his mouth on yours, or the way his hand made the same motion along your thigh.

You don’t mean to, but your whole body tenses up and you stop responding—it’s enough for Seokjin to notice.

Pulling back, Seokjin is panting but his eyes are confused at your reaction to him touching your thigh, but a quick series of knocks at the door steals away the questions building on his tongue. Climbing off of him quickly, you situate your nightgown as he fixes his trousers, grabbing his briefcase as you step across the room just as Hoseok opens the door and peers inside.

“I gave you a few more minutes, but I can’t in good conscience allow you to stay all night!”

Jin laughs, embarrassment turning his ears red at the teasing tone Hoseok gives, knowing that those few extra minutes are what led to the two of you losing yourselves in each other. Holding his briefcase strategically, he bids you goodnight and walks to meet Hoseok at your door so he can escort him out of the home.

His ride home is euphoric, as Seokjin can’t hide the goofy grin on his face or the many times he’s run his fingers along his lips reminiscing on the way you felt beneath them. His ears replay the soft moans and whines you made, forever looping in his head. He remembers how you felt as you rolled your hips and he felt the damp pressure of your heat against his needy cock, but his smile slips a little when he remembers the way your body froze when his hands made contact with your bare thigh.

Thoughts invade his happiness for a moment, and there is a part of him that is afraid that he has taken things too far in his rapture, afraid that you are uncomfortable with how far the two of you have gone tonight. He hopes that it isn’t something that will stop you from wanting him, and prays that it was, perhaps, the thought that the two of you are not yet married that made you still in his arms.

With that thought to calm his nerves and hide his embarrassment, the ride home provides Seokjin with enough time for his arousal to dissipate before he’s handing off Apple to the carriage man to take her to the stables. Apparently his brother has just arrived home after having taken the carriage, so Seokjin merrily makes his way into the foyer to greet his youngest sibling.

“Good evening, Tae.”

“Good eve, Jinnie-hyung. You look quite happy.”

Seokjin can’t hide the grin that grows as you cross his mind.

“I am happy. I’ve finally found my wife.” He looks over Taehyung, noting some recent wounds on him. “If you could stop being so rough in the brothels, I am sure you could find a wife too.”

Seokjin puts his arm around Taehyung’s shoulder, walking him towards the kitchen so he can treat his injuries. A small nip to his face near his lip, and what looks like a woman getting a little carried away with her nails to his face. It’s not the first time Seokjin has seen Taehyung covered in marks from a woman or two and smelling of liquor.

Taehyung knows Seokjin is talking about YN. His mind is racing after Seokjin sets him down in the kitchen, grabbing the metal medical tin from the shelf. He sees the way Seokjin takes in the defensive marks you left on him, and how happy Seokjin is talking about you. In his slightly drunken stupor, his fear takes over his mouth.

“Oh, really? Hope it’s not YN. I saw her with another man the other night, hugging him quite closely— more than is appropriate, you know? And then she flirted with me and the boys before continuing on her way home, ” he says, almost rambling.

He watches as Seokjin’s face falls, the creases that appear between his furrowed brow as he tries to make sense of the story he is hearing. Taehyung saw you with another man? Another man that you held closely, much like you’ve been doing with Seokjin? And then his brother says you flirted with him and his mates right after? It doesn’t really sound like something you would do, but then again, does he really know what you would or wouldn’t do?

He didn’t think you would be the one to climb on his lap and grind on him, but that happened just a half hour ago. Could you really be someone who would play with his emotions? Seokjin doesn’t speak as he treats the wounds Taeyhung has except to ask if there is more. Taehyung reveals scratches on his forearms and Seokjin cleanses those as well; the whole time his thoughts swirl.

Once he’s upstairs in the confines of his room, his thoughts take off, wondering if the man you were with last night is the one who attacked you. Could this be the truth? Could this be why you froze when Seokjin’s hands breached your thigh? The darkness of the night allows doubts to creep their way in, planting themselves deep within his mind and watering themselves with his darkest fears, nurturing the worst overnight.

In the light of morning, Seokjin wakes unsure if you are who you appear to be, and the plans for an engagement are pushed far from his mind by doubt.

series masterlist —thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please let me know what you think of this story!

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bunnirs · 4 years ago

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Yandere! Gon and Killua with a S/O who tries to leave

Requested by: Anon!

“I don’t know if you do any yandere stuff but if you do I was wondering how would yandere killua and gon react to thier s/o trying to leave them for Accidentally Cheating. Thx love your blog”

First Gon and Killua request!! I’m so excited! For the sake of all things holy, ALL CHARACTERS WILL BE AGED UP A BIT. especially with the cheating thing 👉👈 UMM ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST EVER YANDERE TYPE THING SO IM SORRY 😭

Gon:

Alright this dude doesn’t see anything wrong with the fact that he cheated

HE THINKS ITS NORMAL??

And to think you’d get so upset over him ‘cheating’ on you??

He would never! He was just being ‘nice’ to one of tourists of Whale Island

A little to nice.

He’s the type of Yandere that thinks what he does is completely fine! He thinks he’s doing the right thing!

So that’s where you had enough.

Gon was a lunatic and you had to get away

Maybe you’d call Leorio or Kurapika, they’d help you

That’s all you had to do

Get to a pay phone and dial Leorio or Kurapika

So while Gon had left to do God knows what..

You packed your shit and walked out the door

Surprisingly.. you got to the pay phone rather easily

Your paranoia had shot up with the risk of getting caught

Like 📈📈📈📈📈

You made the decision to call Kurapika. He was more serious with this stuff.

You waited for Kurapika until it was dark out

But he came all the same

But you hadn’t expected to see Gon right behind him

That’s right. Gon had said something about visiting Kurapika. Shit.

You were an idiot not to pay closer attention

Fuck fuck fuck he looks mad

His eyes were avoid of anything,,,

His soulless hues stared into your own, and you felt like you could throw up

Kurapika seemed rather worried, asking what happened while Gon was gone

You couldn’t tell him about Gon being a psycho

He wouldn’t believe you.. right?

You made the choice in saying that someone had tried to hurt you, and with Gon away, you didn’t know what to do

Kurapika sighed and said he’d get a hotel and would scout the island for any suspicious behavior,,,

But he didn’t know that Gon WAS the culprit.

Soon after that, you went home with Gon.

“....You lied to him, Y/N.” There was a pregnant pause before your name, almost like it was hard for him to pronounce. “You never lie.”

“...Gon....” You said quietly, not prepared for whatever the hell he was going to say.

“Is this about the woman?” Gon narrowed his eyes at his feet, which moved as the both of you took the road to his house.

“No I just-“ you went quiet, not knowing what to say. Make something up. Fast. “I just wanted to.. get away from the island a bit.”

“Get away?” Gon’s dark expression changed into one of confusion. “Do you not like it here?”

“No! I like it here!” You said abruptly, your eyes widening. “It’s just, I was thinking of visiting my parents! See what they’re up too!” You nervously laughed, praying he didn’t notice your smile faulter.

“...Oh well...that’s easy.” Gon smiled at you, and for a second, you thought you did something good. “They’re up to nothing.” His eyes darkened, his smile widening a bit.

“Nothing?” You questioned, confused.

“They’re dead.” Gon hummed. “They kept trying to get in my way.. so I put them out of their misery. They missed you a lot.. and kept saying I kidnapped you! Which isn’t true right?”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. The only thing that escaped your mouth were the harsh sobs, which seemed to shake your whole body. You fell to the ground, the rough asphalt slicing your knees, the stinging couldn’t compare to the state your heart was in.

“...Oh..” His voice lowered, the slight evidence of worry laced his tone. “.....Can you not speak..?” He grabbed your hand, kneeling before you.

You smacked his hand away, falling onto your back. “G-get the hell away from me!” You screamed, your hands slipping on the bloodied gravel below you. You kept trying to stand up, but it seemed that gravity pushed against you even harder than before. “Go away! For gods sake just leave me alone!”

He stared at his hand for about a minute, his mouth wide and agape. “Leave.. you alone? While your upset?” He seemed hurt, his eyes swelling up, tears appearing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you like this! You’re hurting!”

“Because of you! I’m HURTING BECAUSE OF YOU!” You screamed in his face, somehow gaining the strength to sit up.

“.......I didn’t hurt you! I would never hurt you!” His voice gained in volume, almost like he was panicking. “I just did what was best for both of us!”

“You did what was best for you!” You shoved your finger into his chest, your nail almost bending due to the pressure. “You never think about me! You force me to stay with you! I never wanted something like this! I-“

“Shut up.” Gon said suddenly, shadow overcasting his facial features. “Everything I do is for you... don’t you dare say it isn’t!” His hand quickly grabbed your wrist, the sickening sound of bone being crushed seemed to echo in your ears.

“Y-you’re hurting me... right now... you’re hurting me..” you whispered, trying your best not to cry even more. Your head already hurt from the screaming, the pain adding to your desire to pass out.

“You don’t know real pain.” He said coldly. “But you’ll find out soon.”

That’s all you heard before you eyes seemed to close, your body falling forward into someone’s warm embrace, the air being knocked out of you.

“But everything I do... is for you.. Y/N.”

Killua:

Thing is I don’t see him cheating :(

He’s so closed off as is, so it’s surprising he’s in love with you anyway!!

He’s definetly the Yandere who thinks that you need him

Like you’d be in danger without him

He’s definitely convinced himself that you’d die if you weren’t with him

And that makes him so friggin sad

He wants you to be happy

But he wants you to be safe first.

So, if you try to escape, that’ll make him even more broken inside

He’s a tragic yandere tbh

Wants to give you happiness and love, but he can’t let you out of his sight 😭

So you probably try to leave when he kills someone that was close to you

Probably a guy friend of yours

He felt like he was dangerous, and couldn’t have him taking you away

So he murdered him on the spot with a quick hand through the heart, his nails bloodied.

That was the last straw. You were living with a murderer.

How you would get out? You had no idea

You were in the Zoldyck Mansion. Locked away.

If anything, you could try talking to Canary. She liked you. A lot.

So that’s what you did. You told Canary everything.

She believed you almost immediately. She knew the Zoldycks were cruel... Killua included, no matter how much she liked him.

She’d try to smuggle you outside the gate

Hopefully the security guard would understand

That’s what got you here, standing from right inside the testing gate, Killua before you.

Canary was long gone. She had to stop the butlers from following you.. so you were alone.

“....What are you doing so far from home...?” He questioned, his eyes widened at the sight of you with bags in your hands. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“Killua, we’re inside the gate. You know it’s plenty safe out here.” You narrowed your eyes, nails digging into the leather holsters of your bag. You couldn’t back down now. “Besides, I can protect myself if need be.”

“.....Of course you can. I don’t doubt your abilities.” Killua rolled his eyes, his attitude returning to normal. “I wouldn’t date someone who can’t protect themselves.”

“....Then why don’t you act like that?” You felt a pang in your chest. He made it seems like you were weak.... He made it seem like you were helpless. Why would he do that?

“Act like what? Protective? I can’t do that?” He questioned, his defensive tone making itself clear.

“That is not what this is.” You countered, stepping back a bit. “You know this isn’t you being protective! You act like I’m fragile! Some glass vase that’ll break if someone pushes me to hard! I’m not! I’m a professional hunter just like you!”

“...You don’t act like it.” He pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“How can you be so childish right now!? This is why I need to leave!” You stepped forward, your voice gaining in volume.

“...Leaving is a need? Are you sure you just don’t want it?” He stepped towards you, his voice getting low. He was definitely getting pissed off now.

“I haven’t been outside the gate in years Killua! You know how ridiculous that sounds?! Last time I interacted with someone from outside this gate, you fucking murdered them! He was my friend!”

“He was trying to hurt you!” Killua responded, his eyes darkening. “He was inviting you outside the gate! And by yourself no less! He could’ve hurt you!”

“Going out the gate isn’t a death sentence! I need fresh air Killua! I need to see people!” You continued to yell, throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, the bag in your hand almost being flung off to the side.

“You see my family everyday! They’re people!” Killua scoffed. “barely...” he muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.

“What if I don’t want to see your family anymore?! What if I don’t want to see you?!” You gasped right after the words left your mouth, hands covered your lips, almost in disbelief of what you had just said.

As your thoughts consumed you, you felt a slight pain in your abdomen, your body falling to the ground. Your bags cluttered around you, creating what ironically looked like a crime scene. He had just pushed you. That’s never happened before.

Killua stood above you, his eyes pulsating with dark intent, his aura covering for what seemed like miles. “....Don’t you ever say that!” He yelled out, tears almost appearing in his empty voids. “I might believe it one day! That you don’t need me anymore!” He grabbed the collar of your shirt, so his eyes could look into yours. “I can’t lose you like everyone else! Don’t leave me behind! I used to think you needed me but now I think it’s the other way around!” He cried out, tears threatening to spill. “I have to protect you with everything I have! I’ll continue to kill the people who try to take you away! So please don’t make this hard! I know you want to leave! I understand! But that can’t happen!”

You were quiet, your body feeling limp as he had hit a sensitive point on your body. “O-okay...” you muttered out, tears brimming the corners of your eyes. “I’ll stay.... I-“

Before you can finish, Killua hugged you tighter than ever before, knocking the air out of you. You felt like you could pass out, that feeling soon coming to reality as black dots filled your vision. He had somehow managed to manipulated you again. His worry getting the best of you.

Curse you for being so damn sympathetic.

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jangofctts · 4 years ago

Text

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

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germvity · 3 years ago

Text

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

#dbd leon #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #dead by daylight resident evil #dead by daylight #germvity writing

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kenjikutie · 4 years ago

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summary: you and kageyama had made many promises to one another, but, perhaps the king doesn’t need a princess after all word count: 2k warnings: none! just a lot of angst pairing: kageyama tobio x fem!reader

you would always remember your first day of middle school. that was the day that you decided your older brother would forever be the bane of your existence. not only had he left you at home without waking you up but, he had also begun his walk without you, leaving you to navigate your way through the bustling streets of japan

with every step you took, you swore that your lungs were about to give out. you still had no idea how tooru did this every day and stayed after school for volleyball practice. maybe you could put shaving cream in his pillow or hide his sports sneakers as revenge for leaving you all alone, but, he had gotten you the coveted manager position for his team, so, that was something he could hold over your head for months to come

so lost in your thoughts of revenge, you didn’t notice that you had slowed down to a nearly crawling speed, causing the person behind you to knock right into your back, sending you flying to the concrete, papers and books scattering all around, getting trampled by the passerby

“i- i’m sorry!”, a small voice cried out, reaching down to lift you off of the ground and awkwardly dust off your shoulder

you giggled and ran a hand through your hair, holding up your hands, “no, it’s okay! i promise.”

judging by his uniform, he was also a first year in middle school and you were certain you had never seen someone look so nervous. maybe he was lost like you were. there was a pale blush on his face, one which only grew deeper when you walked up to him, curiously leaning inward

“what’s your name?”, you hadn’t even noticed how close the two of you were

you had always been a bubbly person, just like your elder brother. personal space had never been a phrase in your vocabulary and it had been fine that way in elementary school, but you supposed it was time for you to mature a little bit. after all, curiosity did kill the cat

backing up, you held out your hand for him to shake, “i’m oikawa y/n! im a first year, too!”

still, the boy said nothing, clearly too frazzled to open his mouth. with a soft laugh, you picked up the books and papers you had dropped, not minding that he didn’t help. when you came back up from the ground, you noticed that he hadn’t moved at all

taking his hand in yours, you began to run in the direction of your middle school, ignoring his surprised gasp and quiet protests. eventually, he relaxed in your grip and ran beside you, instead of letting you drag him around like a ragdoll

quietly, kageyama snuck a glance at your face, feeling the godforsaken blush from earlier creep it’s way back up his neck. you had to have been the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his short lifespan. no, scratch that- you were the prettiest girl anyone could ever see-

he was almost sad when the two of you reached the gate of kitagawa first. your hand quickly untangled itself from his and you turned to him with a wide grin. kageyama swore his heart had never beaten so fast

“i’ll see you later! thanks for running with me.”, before you could turn around, he clutched onto your jacket, effectively stopping you

“k-kageyama tobio.”, he let out a shaky sigh, “that’s my name.”

after that encounter, you became what kageyama tobio would consider to be his closest friend. each day, there would be a pouch of yogurt or a carton of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, a desk specifically chosen by you due to it’s location-right behind kageyama’s head-

you loved to annoy him during class by poking him with your pencil or slipping notes into the hood of his jacket for him to find later. kageyama would never tell you that he kept them all in a small box on his dresser

during his first year, kageyama knew that you were the only reason he stayed on the volleyball team. anytime your brother teased him, you were jumping on his case, pulling his hair and whining for him to not bully your best friend. oikawa would just ruffle your hair and begin to tease you about having a little crush

kageyama didn’t like that. he didn’t like the idea of you having feelings or even a close friendship wth someone that wasn’t him. you were the only person he felt he could go to when he was overwhelmed, the only that would lay with him and watch clouds on the weekends and the only one who would stay in the gym with him until the late hours of the night to toss volleyballs

“hey, yn? you’re still gonna be my best friend in high school, right?”, kageyama had asked as the two of you sat on the gym steps, quietly sipping from your waterbottles

you quirked a brow, wondering where that question had come from, “of course i am, tobio! do you really think i would leave you all alone?”

kageyama went quiet and you worried that you had said something wrong. without thinking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, feeling him tense under your hold. you could have sworn that his cheeks turned bright red as soon as your fingers grazed one another

so, you sat there underneath the moonlight, feeling your heart begin to beat a little bit faster when your best friend intertwined his fingers with yours, slightly squeezing

but, that connection all changed one quiet, fall day in third year. that was the first time a pouch of yogurt didn’t show up on your desk. you had matured a lot since the first day you met kageyama. you weren’t as curious as before and certainly not as naive

you knew that kageyama and you had lost touch and that things weren’t the same as before. after you quit managing for the volleyball team, late night meetings stopped and hanging out together for lunch was pushed aside for extra practice. it was beginning to drive you crazy

to fill the void left by kageyama, you started to hang out more with the other third years, such as kunimi and kindaichi. but after a while, kunimi began to see the lost look in your eyes whenever you glanced towards kageyama’s locker, only to find him missing

but, the lazy boy didn’t have the heart to tell you what had happened to your old best friend. he couldn’t let you know how kageyama screamed at them, how he slammed balls on the court out of frustration, how he had become the king

kunimi knew it was only a matter of time until you found out, though. you had always been smarter than anyone he knew. so, it didn’t surprise him when you arrived at their final game of the season, cheeks painted in their school colors and your old manager jacket on your shoulders

standing at the top of the bleachers, you admired the way kageyama looked in his uniform. he was more mature now from the looks of him but you could tell he still drank his milk and yogurt cartons before every game, judging from the amount of them in the trash can

your heart nearly lept out of your chest when he turned to look up at you, your eyes connecting with his blue ones. you weren’t sure what kageyama was thinking about or if he was even happy to see you there but you were sure his eyes widened just a little bit

after about an hour, the game was in full force and you had been exposed to a side of kageyama you had never seen before. your heart beat faster form the crazed, furious look in his eyes anytime he glanced at his teammates and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the boy who was lost on your first day of school

but, the worst was yet to come. when kageyama reaches backward for a set, preparing to score the final point, no one came to receive it. the entire arena was silent, as if everyone was afraid to move and you saw kageyama crack like marble

the game ended after that with a final loss for kitagawa first. you exchanged glances with kunimi, noting the lack of expression in his eyes. you assumed that putting kageyama in his place was enough for him to feel satisfied with how their final season ended

kageyama shoved past his teammates, knocking their shoulders so hard you thought they might fall over. quickly gathering your things, you sprinted down the stairs of the bleachers and towards where you had seen him leave

you skid to a stop when you saw his back, frozen where he stood, fists clenched so tightly he may burst blood vessels. your eyes softened at how tense his shoulders were and you so badly wanted to reach out and help him, but that wasn’t your place anymore

as you took one step forward, kageyama turned to face you, a glaring look in his eyes that made you shiver, “what the hell are you doing here?”

the phrase was a snarl

“i...i wanted to check on you, because-“

“because you feel sorry for me? i don’t need your pity and i don’t want it either!”

running a hand through your hair, you shook your head and glanced up at him, “i don’t pity you. i just wanted to help you...”

kageyama rolled his eyes and chucked the volleyball in his hand at the wall, not even flinching as the sound echoed through the hall. you, however, jolted at the action and took a step back

“what happened to you?”, your voice was barely a whisper

his eyes flared as he turned to face you, “what happened to me? are you serious? what about you, huh? quitting the manager job even though you loved it! you changed everything about who you are!”

you were starting to get angrier; you could feel it in your gut, “i grew up, kageyama! maybe you should try it and stop acting like an arrogant brat!”

kageyama nearly pouted when he heard you call him by his surname. you hadn’t used it for the whole time he knew you. maybe he really had messed everything up this time, but it was too late for apologies now

“i don’t need to explain anything to you! i never even cared about you in the first place! you were always annoying. clinging to my sleeve like some child.”

your eyes were beginning to fill with tears and kageyama felt like he had been punched in the gut when a few rolled down your cheeks. stop it, he told himself. you’re screwing it all up! don’t lost her like this! but he wouldn’t listen, not even to himself

wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, you sniffled then flares up at the boy you used to call your favorite person in the world

“you know what? you’re the king now, great job! you’re the greatest player on the team. but, you’re also the worst human being i’ve met! you care abut no one but yourself and only think about your own future, disregarding everyone else who tries to help you!”

kageyama had never seen you this angry and it terrified him. perhaps, some part of him always thought you would come back to him, sit with him on the gym steps again and count the stars in the sky as he rested his head on your shoulder but that was all gone now

“so im done, kageyama. stay away from me, got it?”

as soon as you turned around, he reached out for you, pulling his arm back as soon as it left his side. why had it had to happen like this? why was he so selfish? if only he had accepted your help, then he still would have had you by his side

maybe he would get another chance one day. if the world allowed him, he would reincarnate as someone who could love you the way you deserved. someone who didn’t push you away, and just maybe... you could love one another again

“hi, im kageyama tobio. it’s nice to meet you.”

“im oikawa yn! it’s nice to meet you too!”

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