#like five's strain?? is that the right word? physically & mentally

[p-taryn-dactyl]

it's just not my year

a/n: hi guys! going back to my roots ig lol, after seeing a bunch of stuff from comic con and D23, i really wanted to write a yelena fic! this isn't in my bestie!yelena universe as natasha is canonically dead in this fic but i just love writing this dynamic so please enjoy! word count: 1.1k warning(s): implied depression; mentions of feeling empty; broken friendship; a shorter fic; pairing(s): platonic!yelena x reader; bestie!yelena x reader; ex-friend!yelena x reader; ex-avenger!reader

The apartment was dark and cold as you opened the door, shivering as you mentally reminded yourself to pay the heating bill. Going through your routine was easy enough, however, you couldn't help but notice the presence sitting on your couch. Hanging up your bag, taking off your shoes, you went through the motions before walking into the living area to turn on the lights. Your arms crossed as you stared at your ex-best friend. She didn't look at you, her arms leaning on her legs, head bent forward like she was praying to a god you knew she didn't believe in.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

She was the first one to break the silence, her voice hoarse and cracked as she fiddled with her hands, hesitantly looking up at you. At the look in her eye, all former grievances melted in your mind and you sighed. You took a seat next to her on the couch, allowing space between the two of you.

"I think right now this is considered breaking and entering." You joked, desperate to get rid of the tense atmosphere. Yelena's lips quirked up in a small smile as she turned her body to face you, crossing her legs under her.

"Not if I still have a key." She joked back half-heartedly. Her smile fell quickly, going back to focusing on picking at her nail beds. Instinctively, you reached forward, taking Yelena's hands in yours, holding each one seperately. She looked at you, finally making eye contact and you took in the differences of your former friend. Her hair was shorter, brighter, and choppy, like she cut and died it herself. The bags under her eyes were dark and deep, indictaing she hadn't been sleeping well, if at all. She looked exhausted, physically, emotionally, and mentally. All you wanted to do was pull her into a hug and let her cry into your shoulder. From the way she was subconsciously leaning towards you, she also craved that comfort. However, the cut of the end of your friendship still bled. Your grip on Yelena's hands loosened but she didn't pull away, you couldn't bring yourself to either.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, for how I acted, for what I said." Yelena spoke in a hurry, her words rushed, as if they forced themself of their own voilition out of her mouth. You blinked, shocked. While you were hurt, you never once truly blamed Yelena for what happened. She had been blipped away for five years and when she returned, her sister was dead. You were the one to tell her, you remember how her face froze then fell, how her tears fell from cold eyes. It all spiraled after that, Yelena grasping at straws, desperate for someone to blame. First it was Clint Barton, believing he just allowed Nat to jump. Then it was you, blaming you for not being the one with Clint on Vormir, despite the fact you hadn't even been on that mission. That accusation hurt the most, delievering the final blow to the strained strands of friendship still connecting the two of you.

You shook your head, squeezing Yelena's hands once before you stood up, going into your small kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea and one for Yelena.

"It's okay, Len," you heard a small gasp from Yelena at the nickname, almost relieved you would still call her anything other than her name, "I don't think it would be appropriate for me to be angry, you lost your sister, you were entitled to your pain and emotions."

As you stirred the tea, you hadn't realized that Yelena came to stand next to you in the kitchen, her voice making you jump slightly, spilling hot water you couldn't feel onto your hand.

"So wer- so are you. I hurt you, I pushed you away. And now I'm selfishly asking you to let me in again. I don't like being alone, I don't like this emptiness I'm feeling."

You gave into your thoughts and pulled Yelena into a hug, surprising her. Your grip was tight as you spoke, feeling tears fill your eyes.

"I never should have let you push me away. You needed me and I let one fight break us apart."

You felt Yelena shake her head as she wrapped her arms around you, reprocipricating the hug with a grip tighter than yours.

"You know, I was scared you were going to yell at me and kick me out when you saw me." Yelena admitted, her voice small as if she was afraid you still would. You pulled away from the hug slightly, just so you could look your friend in the eyes.

"Len, all you had to do was come back and ask. It was your move to make. I'll always be here for you and it hurts me to see you like this."

The hope in Yelena's eyes shone bright, a genuine smile spreading on her face. You were about to hand Yelena her mug when you saw a sheepish expression on her face.

"Oh god what did you do? Besides going all Targaryen."

The familiar banter warmed Yelena's heart. Since Natasha died, since fighting Clint, she had felt like she had no purpose. So many nights had passed where all she wished was to join Natasha. You had always made Yelena feel at home, like she belonged. She couldn't believe she had almost lost one of the only people on Earth who truly knew her. Now, after everything, she was going to ask if you would turn your life upside down so that she wouldn't be alone anymore.

"I have something to ask you actually," she took the tea from your hands, taking a heavy sip to calm her nerves, "Valentina is starting a new team," at your sudden raised eyebrows, Yelena rushed out the rest of what she wanted to say, "And I know you quit the Avengers, you probably have a great job-"

You scoffed at that, knowing the job you had at the moment was one of the worst ideas you'd ever had, but it paid the bills. Kind of. Yelena continued.

"But, I think your skills could be useful? The Contessa also put Alexei on the team and-"

"Oh god, I'm not going to let you drone on when I'm already planning my suit in my head. Do you think Shuri takes custom orders?"

Yelena looked like a fish out of the water for a second at your agreement, a list of reasons why you should joing the Thunderbolts still going on in her mind. But once your answer clicked in her mind, Yelena felt a wave of warmth overtake her, the emptiness being replaced by a sense of belonging. You might've not been what she lost permantely but you're what she needed to find.

a/n: ok that was an abrupt ending my apologies. i hope y'all enjoyed this somewhat!! i didn't want to go too deep as i already have a giant angst fest planned but im actually kind of excited to see how they explore yelena's mental health in the movie! and they better not put her and bucky together romantically, that's just...icky to me

[neyliaart]

Okay so

Because

I need to actually do shit here (and the bingo is going and I need to start my shit)

Tism4Tism QuanYin

I mean Autism Hualian I see fairly often and I think we can all agree that Yizhen is definetly not neurotypical in any way. He just lives textbook five year old white boy autism.

However. I refuse to believe any of the cast of that book is neurotypical so I hereby diagnose Yin Yu with just as much autism.

They are just on wholly different extremes of the spectrum. Or well. Yin Yu has the anxious highly masked version where Yizhen has the entirely unmasked version.

Where Quan Yizhen misses every social cue to ever exsist Yin Yu overanalyzes your facial expression until he is able to half read your mind.

Where Quan Yizhen takes your every word at face value Yin Yu sat up at night when he way young to study irony.

Yizhen either does not look at you or he stares right into your soul for a solid minute. Yin Yu wears a mask. Yeah sure its to hide his identity but also nobody can ever tell exactly where his eyes are looking and its pure bliss. He has strategies tho. To mimic eye contact with minimal strain.

They both struggle to work with others actually. Yin Yu just goes about it more politely because he studied the big book of social interaction he wrote and observed as a child. He hates tho. Whenever he works on a task with someone he struggles because they never do it *right* and its silently driving him insane that he has to correct a bunch of little things that bother him (that would 90% of the time not actually affect the end product or goal they just bother him extremly because its not the way he does it) in secret. Meanwhile Yizhen will just say "You're doing it wrong." straight to your face. Unless you're Shixiong. Then he will assume he does it wrong because Yin Yu obviously knows what hes doing.

Yizhen has very high pain Tolerance where Yin Yus is rather low. Dont know if this actually connects to Autism but whatever.

Yizhen has no idea what personal space means (if he likes you so this goes extremly for Yin Yu) and will invade on a regular basis. Meanwhile Yin Yu will feel symptoms of physical pain if you inniciate contact. Was very hard to train Yizhen to wait until Yin Yu says its okay. Once they figure that out Yizhen can cuddle a lot tho. It just needs to follow Yin Yus very specific procedure first so he can be comfortable.

Yizhen doesn't even do things hes told to do. Yin Yu will cry if orders are not specific enough and Hua Cheng does keep a mental list of things that need to be mentioned in every task he gives. (What time? Is there a specific Method he needs to use? How high is it in priority compared to other tasks? At what level of struggle does he report back? Such things. He needs to know or he will suffer breakdown and nothing gets done. We know how his breakdowns look.)

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh I cant think of any more right now. So yeah. Bye.

[sevendeadlywhispers]

7Seals

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Chapter 6*

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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Five

•Next Chapter: Chapter Seven

• New chapters every Thursday

•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

• Word Count: 2.7k

• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter. This chapter contains themes of abuse. If this bothers you please do not read.

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78Fahrenheit (demo)  - Ethel Cain

2:22 ─────━❍─ 1:25

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The wind whispered through my hair as I guided my ODM gear through the intricate patterns of the training course. My body moved with a dance-like grace, effortlessly slicing through the air to sever the napes of the practice dummies.

The past three days had been a relentless cycle of one-on-one training with Captain Levi. His focus? My ODM gear and nape-slicing skills. Not a word escaped his lips during these sessions; he merely observed, occasionally mirroring my movements with his gear.

"You're using too much gas," Levi's blunt comment reached me as I returned from a practice run, my body dripping with exhaustion. Collapsing to catch my breath, Levi's foot jabbed into my leg, a harsh reminder that rest was a luxury.

"Get up. I didn't say you could sit, brat," he grumbled, his impatience evident.

"You're making unnecessary movements with your gas. Release, then move."

"Are you trying to kill me?" I retorted, still catching my breath. Levi's response was curt.

"It's not impossible."

"Fine. I'll do another run," I conceded, my determination overshadowing the fatigue.

"No. We're finished for right now," Levi declared. "Take five, then meet me on the training fields. We're recruiting today."

His words hung in the air, and I didn't argue. The training had pushed me to my limits, bruises from the gear darkening every day. The ODM gear, a relentless companion, left my thighs raw and my legs trembling. Levi's challenges extended beyond physical strain; they tested my mental fortitude, an arena where I was already grappling with the mess left by Alexander.

The pain echoed not just in my body but in the foggy recesses of my mind. Mentally checked out, I wondered how much more my body could endure and whether the cloudy aftermath of Alexander's actions would ever lift.

Doubts lingered in the air as I took my short break, sweat clinging to my skin from the relentless training. The question haunted me: Was I truly good enough for a spot on a special operations squad, especially one led by someone as formidable as Levi?

My mind circled back to Alexander, the one who knew me best, my companion for the past six years. His silent presence loomed in my thoughts, and a nagging doubt crept in – perhaps he had been trying to protect me, knowing my strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. Maybe he was right; maybe I was too weak for Levi's squad.

Levi made me feel like a mere shadow in his presence. Every spar was a reminder of my incompetence. He urged me to pin him, a simple task, yet one I struggled with. I hadn't even secured a spot in the top ten of my class. So why did Levi choose me? What did Erwin see in me that warranted such a position?

Survival haunted my past, with Alexander by my side for the last six years. Did Erwin consider my mere survival a qualification? My thoughts spiraled, questioning why I had lived through the fall of Wall Maria. Levi's intervention had saved me, but why?

Wouldn't it have been simpler to let me perish? It would have spared everyone the trouble, and given Alexander a chance at happiness. My internal debate echoed with the possibility that perhaps I wasn't meant for Levi's special squad. My presence, a potential burden, could jeopardize him and the entire squad.

Training days blended into a haze of exhaustion, my body pushed beyond its limits. Bruises marked my skin like a roadmap of pain, a testament to Levi's relentless regimen. Mentally checked out from the mess with Alexander, my mind felt clouded, a storm brewing beneath a calm exterior.

The haunting question persisted: Why me? Why did Erwin and Levi see potential in someone who couldn't even pin their captain during sparring? A whisper of doubt insinuated that maybe I was a mere survivor, not a true Scout.

I just keep going in circles.

I questioned Levi's motives, Alexander's warnings, and my abilities. Was I destined for more than just survival?

As I reached the training fields, Levi's gaze met mine. Where was the emotion that lay behind those eyes? Inner turmoil gripped me, a symphony of conflicting emotions. Every move felt like a step closer to revealing my inadequacy.

"You're late." Levi's voice broke through my thoughts. "I said five minutes, not twenty."

"I lost track of time." I stumbled over my words.

"Save it." Levi groaned. "My office after dinner."

"Yes sir," I said to him as we walked towards the group's training.

The sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Levi's voice cut through the air, a command that echoed with authority.

"I need high ground." His groan spoke of a tactical mind at work, and without hesitation, he navigated the field, reaching the closest building.

With practiced ease, he utilized his ODM gear to ascend, his silhouette against the darkening sky. From my vantage point below, he seemed like a shadow, a silent observer seeking an advantage. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, scanned the training fields.

"Oi," his voice rang down at me, a summon I couldn't ignore. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get up here."

The dread settled in, knowing that the pain of using my ODM gear awaited, yet duty demanded my ascent.

With gritted teeth, I propelled myself upwards, each motion a reminder of the physical toll training had taken on me. When I reached the rooftop, Levi had already claimed his spot, his eyes fixed on the recruits below. The town sprawled beyond, a canvas painted in the hues of dusk.

"Wherever I go, you go," Levi declared his words a simple directive that held more weight than spoken. His gaze remained focused on the ongoing training, looking for potential new members of his squad.

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The world below unfolded like a patchwork quilt as we soared through the dense woods. The ODM gear granted us an exhilarating freedom, taking us to untouched corners of the training grounds. The rush of wind against my face, the feeling of power coursing through every movement—it was a sensation unlike any other.

"Guys! Stop!" Hange's voice echoed through the trees, halting our swift progress. Alexander, always the assertive one, zoomed past me, hooking into the trees ahead. "Get up here, Hange!" he called out, his words carrying a playful challenge.

"Yeah, Hange, stop being scared and come join us!" I added my teasing encouragement. Hange's reluctance toward the ODM gear was known, a fear born from a face-first landing during their first attempt.

"Our gear is supposed to be used for emergencies only on this exercise, remember?" Hange's voice drifted from below, a reminder of the rules we were supposed to follow. But rules were always meant to be bent, weren't they?

Following Alexander's echoed voice, I found him perched high on a sturdy branch. "Come here," he beckoned, and I ascended to join him.

"What's up?" I asked, settling onto the branch beside him. The scenery spread out below us, a sea of treetops and greenery.

"Enjoy the view with me," he suggested, and I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty surrounding us.

"It's beautiful," I commented, my gaze lost in the vastness of the woods.

"Yeah, but you're prettier," he said with a casual grin, a compliment that never failed to make my cheeks flush. His words, always laced with a charming boldness, echoed back to the first day we met at training camp.

"Wherever I go, you go. Okay?" Alexander's tone shifted his words carrying a weight of seriousness.

"I can't afford to lose you, Iris."

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The memory lingered, a snapshot of unspoken promises amid the rustling leaves. As I returned to the present, perched on a rooftop with Captain Levi, the echoes of those words whispered through the air, a reminder of something that once was.

"Are you done daydreaming?" Levi's baritone voice asked cutting through my thoughts.

"I-" I stumbled over my words but it was pointless.

"Do you see anyone from the squad below worth our time?"

"Oluo and Eld." I quickly said. "They work well together."

"Oluo doesn't take his training seriously. All he's done is talk." Levi observed. "Who's his captain?"

"Alexander."

I saw Levi's gaze in the corner of my eyes. It wasn't too kind but it wasn't angry either.

"Should have known, guessing Eld was on your old squad as well?"

"Yes sir. Oluo has fifteen solo kills and Eld has ten. Together they've had ten assists. They work really well together." I explained to him. "We have a lot of trust in each other."

"Trust?"

"Yeah, without trust, you're as good as dead," I muttered, avoiding Levi's eyes as my gaze lingered on the vast landscape below. His eyes, usually intense, now held a curiosity that felt like it delved into my very thoughts.

"What are you guys doing up there?" Alexander's voice snapped the fragile thread connecting us, and I turned my attention to the man with ash-brown hair, scowling up at us.

Levi and I exchanged a swift glance, a momentary understanding that vanished in the face of Alexander's intrusion.

I haven't seen Alexander in the last couple of days. The mess hall had been a lonely place without him, and the tension that lingered between us found no resolution in his avoidance.

"Recruiting," I responded, breaking the silence with words that carried more weight than he could fathom. The distance between us felt like an unspoken chasm, fueled by his baseless accusations.

"Well, recruit somewhere else. My squad's off-limits."

Alexander's words, delivered with a glare aimed directly at me, cut through the air like a knife. Levi, embodying an unexpected calm, stood up and gracefully descended from the roof, landing in front of Alexander.

"Problem, soldier?"

As they faced each other, I stood on the roof, caught between past accusations and an uncertain future.

"Yeah, there is. You're interrupting a training session with my squad," he snapped, his stern gaze fixed on Levi.

The towering figure of Alexander made Levi appear even smaller. Anyone could sense the tension and understanding that Alexander wasn't about to extend a warm welcome.

"Your soldiers lack discipline if being observed is a distraction."

Levi had a calm and confident demeanor that I know made Alexander mad. His words lingered in the air like the tension between them, prompting me to leap off the roof and join Levi on the ground. I could feel the squad converging, drama was the scouts favorite activity after all.

"Then that's more of a reason to move along and recruit elsewhere. My squad's off-limits."

"Nothing is off-limits for me. I have free rein to choose any member of the regiment, whether they want to join or not. Including you." Levi's assertive voice could be heard all around us.

"And who gave you such power?" Alexander questioned, his disbelief apparent.

"Commander Erwin. I'd love to chit-chat about meaningless shit all day, but I have a job to do."

With those words, Levi turned and walked away, leaving a stunned squad and a seething Alexander in his wake.

"Get back to training," Alexander bellowed at his squad, eyes lingering.

As Levi walked away, leaving Alexander fuming with frustration, the tension in the air lingered longer than it should have. I felt the weight of Alexander's disapproval as he turned his piercing gaze toward me.

He grabbed my wrist, leading me away from the unfolding drama. As we entered the nearby building, my thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the power dynamics shifting within the regiment.

What have I gotten myself into? The clash between these two is like a storm, and I'm standing in the middle of it.

Alexander's grip on my wrist tightened as he led me away from the gathering crowd. The building's interior enveloped us, shielding our conversation from prying eyes.

"Explain yourself, Iris," Alexander demanded, his voice low and harsh.

I struggled to find the right words, torn between defending Levi's actions and pacifying Alexander's evident anger. This is a delicate dance, and one wrong step could lead to more trouble.

"He's just doing his job, Alexander. Recruiting for the Special Ops," I offered cautiously.

Alexander's scowl deepened.

"And you think that gives him the right to disrupt my training session? To challenge the authority of my squad?"

I bit my lip, contemplating my response. How do I make him understand without making things worse?

"He's persistent, but it doesn't mean he disrespects you or your squad. He sees potential, that's all," I tried to reason, trying to choose my words wisely.

Alexander's eyes bore into mine, searching for sincerity. "Potential or not, this isn't the way to go about it. We have rules, and he can't just waltz in and disregard them."

"Just trust Erwin. He knows what he's doing." I said trying to calm his nerves.

The room hung heavy with tension, a suffocating silence enveloping us. I turned to face Alexander, uncertainty clawing at my insides. His gaze, cold and unforgiving, pierced through me like a blade. The air was filled with unspoken words, and I felt my stomach plummet into an abyss of dread.

Before I could comprehend the storm about to erupt, my body stumbled backward, colliding with the sturdy desk behind me. Panic surged as I braced myself, my trembling hands reaching out to steady the chaos within me. The echo of the impending storm reverberated through the room, drowning out any semblance of peace.

A sharp contact against the right side of my face sent shockwaves through my senses. I winced, instinctively cradling the stinging pain. The heavy breathing in the room intertwined with the shiver that ran down my spine. The sting of tears welled up, soothing the physical ache but doing nothing to quell the storm raging within.

"Who do you think you are?"

Alexander's voice cut through the silence, each word a lash against my already battered composure. He advanced, a looming presence that seized control of the room. His hand found a fistful of my hair, yanking me mercilessly closer to him. I bit back a cry, my eyes locked with his, a silent plea for mercy.

"Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"

His words lashed out like a whip, each syllable seething with anger. His grip on the back of my head tightened, and I felt the world tilt under the force of his rage.

"Answer me."

His demand hung in the air, a command that brooked no disobedience. I swallowed hard, my voice a fragile whisper in the charged atmosphere.

"No."

The tears streamed down, tracing a path of despair on my cheeks. His eyes bore into the raw vulnerability laid bare before him. My body was locked in the vice of his anger, and I braced myself for the tumultuous storm. His words sliced through the room, anger boiling beneath the surface.

"Tell that captain of yours to stay the fuck away from our squad."

Another demand hung in the air, a venomous command that echoed in the silence. I nodded, a silent acknowledgment, but it was never enough. His fist collided with my face, a burst of pain and frustration.

"When I ask you something, you answer. Got it?" His voice was a relentless storm, demanding compliance.

"Yes," I whispered, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere.

"Do you understand what's going to happen if you don't listen to me?" His question sent shivers down my spine, and my voice trembled as I replied,

"Yes."

The weight of his expectations bore down on me, and I felt the vulnerability in my compliance.

"Good. Now come here," he said, lifting me off the floor and holding me close. His touch was a paradox of comfort and pain, his hand gentle in my hair as he cradled me. I felt his lips press against the very spot his fist had struck moments ago.

"Please listen, Iris. I do this because I love you." His words were a desperate plea, a conflicted confession that hung in the air. He squeezed me one last time before releasing his hold, his departure leaving an emptiness in the room. He didn't look back, and the silence that followed echoed with the weight of unspoken struggles. I was left standing, all alone in the dark training room while the day still passed on.

It wasn't the first time he hit me.

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Authors Note:

Abuse is never to be romanticized. This is to spread awareness and help others cope in different outlets. You are not alone.

For more help:

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

Text START to 88788

You are not alone.

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[partyofwords]

A Kind of Sick ~ *Jakurai Jinguji*

Summary: Jakurai is informed you are in the hospital. Assuming the worse, he goes to find you. Now you get to tell the overprotective doctor how you landed here in the first place.

Pairing: Jakurai Jinguji X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Drabble

Word Count: 748

Warning: mentions a broken bone

Masterlist

Out of all the things you had in mind for your weekend, this wasn't it. You didn't exactly anticipate being in the hospital with a broken leg, waiting desperately for the pain medication to kick in. You were in so  much pain, it felt like you were being ripped apart. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but you were counting down the seconds until the  medication kicked in and it didn't feel like you were dying.

As you fidgeted in bed, you jumped when there was a knock at your door. You thought it would be your doctor, come back to tell you the results of your x-rays. But when you saw who entered, you were pleasantly surprised to see it wasn't the exact doctor you were looking for.

You smiled. "Jakurai."

He sighed when he saw you lying in that hospital. "Care to explain why you're here with your leg in a sling?"

You shrugged, forcing a nonchalant smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He sighed before sitting in the chair opposite of your hospital bed. "Just tell me what happened, please. And be honest. I'll know if you're lying."

With a small sigh, you hang your head in shame. "I fell while going up the stairs. I missed a step, tripped over the lip of the stair above, and came crashing down. I don't know how bad the break is, but my doctor did say it was broken for sure."

"I see." Jakurai sighed once again. "Well, I'm glad you got away with only a break. You could have faced more serious damage. You need to be more careful."

"Hey, the doctor said this kind of thing could happen to anyone, including you, Dr. Perfect." You shot back before grimacing. "Okay, serious question: when is pain medication supposed to kick in? Because I feel like I'm dying over here!"

"When did you take it?"

"About fifteen minutes ago."

He nodded. "Well, you have about another five to fifteen minutes to go. You'll be fine. You're strong, so you can handle this."

You groaned. "No, I really can't! C'mon, you're a doctor, there has to be something you can do to help me!"

"I'm not that kind of a doctor."

"I'm also dealing with mental anguish on top of physical pain. That's a kind of sickness, right? I believe that enters your realm of expertise." You explain exasperated. "It doesn't even have to be with medicine! You can just bust out your hypnosis mic and use your special ability on me! I'm sure I'll feel better then!"

His relatively pleasant, albeit strained smile turned into a disapproving frown, making you shrink into the mountain of pillows behind your head. "You do understand that is highly illegal, correct? I am not about to risk my freedom, my license, my life, just because you can't wait a few more minutes for your medication to kick in. You'll need to find another way to deal with your mental anguish."

You sigh. He wasn't wrong, but you hated when he spoke to you in such a disapproving way. "Alright, alright. Can you at least help me take my mind off of things? That should help, right?"

He nodded. "That's better. When did you get your x-rays done?"

"About an hour ago. The doctor should be back any minute, although I believe he's dealing with a bit of a backlog back there." You explain with a shrug.

"I'm not surprised." He glanced at your leg. "If I had to wager a guess at the severity of your injury, you'll be in a cast for a couple of months. If you would like, I can accompany you back home and make your apartment more suitable to your now limited mobility needs."

You perked up at his suggestion. "Really? You would do that? For me?"

He nodded. "Of course."

You swear your heart could just melt from how sweet he was to you. "Thank you, Jakurai. I really appreciate that."

"You're welcome." He checked his wrist watch. "That's about ten minutes now. How are you feeling?"

"Better." You sheepishly mumbled. "And a little tired."

He chuckled. "Then I suggest you nap for a little bit. I'll wake you when your x-rays come back so we can discuss them together."

Again, you perked up with hopefulness. "You're going to stay here with me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." You sighed before letting your eyes slip close and sleep overtake you.

[ofstarsandskies]

Striborg Julius Drabble -- Losing What Matters Most

OutOfCanonShips;; I was tempted by fellow Kresnik simplord @elympios and my usual enabler @unborderedreflection to do more Striborg Julius. And so despite intending to write maybe 500 words, here we are >2x that length.

CW: Physical & Mental Abuse. Be ready for the yikes train!

Edit: It's on AO3 now too. Whichever's your fancy, go for it ;U

Ludger's late. He's never late. Or if he's coming close, he calls. There's no missed calls. Julius is five minutes away from leaving the apartment and dragging Ludger home. Trigleph isn't a safe place at night for boys his age. He's only eighteen. Far too young. Always too young.

Ludger, did Bisley finally--

"Brother, I'm home!" Ludger calls as he enters the apartment, "I'm sorry, the tailor I commissioned asked me to come in for any final adjustments. I didn't think we'd run so long, but least I'll look perfect for Sunday!"

Sunday... Wasn't that...? "Ludger... You're not planning on attending Spirius' open house event, are you?"

"Sure am! I bought my own suit and everything!"

Ludger shows off his spoils: a glossed light grey jacket with black slacks and shined black dress shoes. Underneath the jacket is a while cuffed long sleeved shirt and a cute silver bow tie. Like all of Ludger's outfits, it'll look amazing on him.

But its purpose cannot be ignored-- it's all for that man.

"Looks good, right? Bisley himself's coming to welcome future applicants! I'm hoping if I go early, I can tell him hello myself before he gets stormed with--"

"You're not going," Julius says, tone flat despite the anxiety bubbling inside him.

Ludger stares back at him for a moment, yet he continues undeterred, "Don't worry! The event's free, and I'll cook dinner before I go! Or if you're worried I'll sneak a drink, I wouldn't risk getting kicked out for--"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Ludger."

"Um..." This time, Ludger realizes he's serious. Though like the first reminder, he doesn't understand the decision's final, "Why can't I go?"

Julius couldn't believe they're discussing this. Why was Ludger questioning him? He used to take his word for things and drop it. Why, of all times, was he insisting now?

"Because you're not," Julius closes in on Ludger, reminding him who's in charge. "If you want to go out that badly, ask your friends if they'll go to dinner with you."

--But contrary to expectations, Ludger doesn't shrink back and apologize for troubling him. A stubborn flame lights in him, one Julius cannot appreciate while it's directed at him, "Julius, this isn't about attending a party! Going to this event's my chance to become an Agent!"

He still didn't give up on that? Despite all of Julius' suggestions for other jobs? His stories of his terrible days at work? His doubts and warnings about his chances of passing the field exam being on the floor? What the hell did Ludger need to get the hint and stop chasing certain death?

Was Ludger's misguided determination because of his new friends from school? The chattiest one, Bisley's secretary's sister if he remembered right, kept gushing on about how girls liked a man who could bring in the dough. Maybe she filled his head with grandiose ideas; Spirius Agents' pay put almost every other job in Elympios' to shame.

Or was it the TV reporting on Spirius' recent breakthroughs into other fields? Julius switched channels whenever Spirius' name came up, but Ludger could easily watch the news reports after school.

Julius can think of a thousand explanations. There's far too many to deal with individually before Sunday. Dissuading Ludger's his best answer.

"You're wasting your time, Ludger. Spirius isn't somewhere you should work. Bisley isn't the boss you think he is, either."

"And yet it's fine if you work there?!" Ludger's voice strains to reach Julius' volume. "Give me one good reason I can't work at Spirius! And failing the field exam doesn't count; I can always try the next year!"

"The reason is because I said so. I work there. I know what it's like. We're done talking about this; you're not going, and that's final."

Ludger's fight dies out, melting into sorrow as tears glisten on his eyelashes. Julius reaches out to wipe them, to bring back Ludger's loving smile. But Ludger walks past him, setting his clothes on the kitchen table.

"...I'm going out," He's walking towards the door. If Ludger leaves, he'll never come back.

His little brother stops as Julius catches him by the wrist. "Let me go! I don't want to argue anymore!" Ludger's struggles are stronger than he remembers, not that they'll do him any good. Ludger couldn't hurt a fly without apologizing to it.

"You're not leaving until you give this pipe dream up."

"Brother..." Julius can't tell if Ludger's tears are from his words or his grip. "Please, I just need a little time to cool down!"

And then you'll run away, Julius' hold tightens with each unspeakable thought that crosses him. Ensnared in Bisley's schemes like a bunny caught in a bear trap. He'll catch you like he has everyone in the DODA. There's no corner in Elympios--in this world--that's safe for you. Not unless you stay where I can protect you.

"Julius, please stop, you're hurting me--"

I can't. You know full well why I can't stop. I've said it too many times. Or have you been ignoring me all this time? This isn't the Ludger I loved. He's changed. He's been poisoned by the world.

Who did this to you? What haven't you been telling me? You can't act like this, Ludger. The world out there will devour every piece that makes you bright.

"WHY CAN'T YOU LISTEN LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO?!" Julius finally voices his frustrations. "I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU, WHY WON'T YOU UNDERSTAND--"

"STOP IT!" Ludger's foot pounds into his knee, forcing Julius to stumble and let go. On Ludger's pale skin, it's impossible to ignore the glowing red hand print on his wrist. Even the redness around his eyes cannot compare. "If this is how you're going to be, th-then... I'm moving out and never coming back! I hate you, Julius! Goodbye!"

He's too late to stop Ludger from running outside. Everything's lost. His world's pitch black.

Finding Ludger wouldn't take longer than a second-- his prototype GHS has a GPS chip to transmit his location. But despite the simplicity, Julius can't bring his hand to even reach into his pocket. The pain isn't in his knee, it's in his core being.

For once, Julius lets Ludger go with hopes he'll return home.

---- ---- ----

Ludger comes home a few hours later. He makes dinner. It's pasta margherita, as usual. Before Julius can offer his thanks, Ludger takes his plate and locks himself in his room.

Breakfast the next morning is similar: he cooks, then retreats. There's no response when Julius asks him to come out and talk through what happened. Attempts to call him from several different numbers gets shorter and shorter, if he picks up at all. Their home is eerily silent for weeks save for the sounds of their stove every meal.

And yet when the silence is broken? It's not the same.

Ludger talks to him, but he doesn't say anything meaningful. When Julius asks what's wrong, Ludger cradles where his bruise used to be and tells him he's fine. If Julius doesn't drop it, he shrinks back and excuses himself to do the laundry or finish washing the dishes.

He should be happy; Ludger's fallen in line again. Yet when he sees his brother's face each morning, he misses that bright smile and cheerful, "Good luck at work today!".

Ludger, please come back. Without you, I'm nothing. Smile at me one last time. Tell me you love me before I decay into nothingness. Pretend if you have to. I don't care. I just need to know you're still here. Please Ludger.

For the first time in years, Julius weeps.

[lunarblazes]

@oh-snapperss hey bitch

ao3 link

It's really quite simple, in the words of Mumbo. She sees the sunflowers. The sunflowers see her. She keeps walking.

Pearl isn't sure when they popped up. Between one night and the next, her lawn was suddenly covered in the things, a sea of monotonous shining yellow. They all faced towards the sun. She wished they would look somewhere else, but that just made her feel like they were following her instead, so she retracted the wish and resolved to ignore them.

Of course the compass is sat right at the root of one of the flowers. Right in the center of her door, too, where she can't miss it. If she were a slightly more superstitious person, she'd swear the sunflowers themselves put it there. But she's not, and it definitely points to Grian's base (as all roads seem to, eventually), so she sighs and resigns herself to an evening of getting no work done.

The sunflowers stare expectantly. Pearl ignores them, spreading her wings and elytra dually into the sky and taking off for Grian's latest crime against nature. The compass is steady, unfortunately, and she's right on time, for once. There's already a substantial number of hermits gathering in Grian's basement; she can count maybe four or five who arrive before her, and then there are seven or eight after. She's not keeping track, though somehow she feels like she should be.

As Grian prepares his little speech, she stares beyond him, head cocked to one side. The Rift sits, expectant as the sunflowers were. She doesn't like it, not at all, no matter how beautiful the stars are. It feels--above all, it feels hungry, a realization that sends dread coagulating in her throat, forming an insurmountable lump of terror as she looks on.

Despite her fear, all her reservations, she finds herself stepping forward with the others. It's a strange sort of detached panic that takes over her, then, and at once she knows she should have left the compass on the floor. Pearl should have turned that stupid thing into mulch. Let the sunflowers have their prize in the form of compost, a rotting magical thing seeping into the taunting, sickly yellow of the petals. Hopefully it would have killed them for good and she'd be working on her next cleaning job or checking stock in Twinkly Trash, finally reaping the rewards of the soup coup just days prior.

But she'd picked it up. And now she couldn't put it down--none of them could. Briefly, she wondered what that meant for Grian, the one who'd delivered them, and then her nose was a fraction of a centimeter away from the Rift and she didn't really have time to wonder anything before it decided she belonged to it.

It--it… what must be understood is that traveling between worlds is not something that is done frequently. The Rift isn't friendly. It's not evil, but it's not friendly, and it wasn't dedicated to making their trip comfortable.

As such, Pearl almost suffocates on the scent of spring winds before they even arrive. She chokes on the smell, the lack of air, the paradoxical straining of her lungs as her brain insists that they must be receiving something, something to keep them alive. She's not, or at least she doesn't feel like she is. Pearl feels like she's dying, like the complete emptiness around her is a giant stomach and this is how she's being digested. Every time she tries to think of her home for some kind of reprieve, it's snatched from her throat, leaving her dry and desiccated, a wounded animal in the desert searching for an oasis in vain.

The desperation is unbearable. She thinks if it doesn't end soon, she'll simply cease to exist; not dead, not alive, just conscious. A hollow shell, a frozen body in space. Pearl can't see any of her friends. She hopes that means they're okay. As she thinks of them, her breath fogs in front of her face, and in it she can see shapes bleeding--the faces of the people she entered with. They're escaping her now, both physically and mentally, her mind scrabbling for a hold on anything as it's systematically wiped clean. A blank slate.

What needed her to be blank? Why? What did it want?

Pearl keeps choking, clawing desperately at the air, at her throat, at anything to prove she's alive, until she catches the first glimpse of daylight and it's like a breath of fresh air to a drowning man six feet below the waves.

Her lungs heave as she furiously, ferally claws her way out, scraping and kicking and silently screaming to dislodge herself from the emptiness' gravity. Something murmurs around her, almost impressed, and she wants to tear its throat out with her teeth. Pearl pulls herself out of a vacuum with all of the grace of a starving wolf falling upon a deer carcass. With rotten, bloody meat between her jaws, Pearl finally reaches daylight.

The breath comes easy to her now as she gulps lungfuls of fresh air so clean and crisp her throat hurts from the sudden shift in abundance. Out of the corners of her eyes, she can see the other hermits arrive, some in worse shape than her, even, but she can't bring herself to care. She barely even remembers their names. Pearl feels stripped, hollow, barely alive. Barely even surviving.

And then she blinks, and it's all vanished. The pain, the Rift's hunger, her own fight for a feast, the thing it made of her. It's gone as quickly as it sets on, and with its absence comes a sense of abject calm, a stillness and serenity Pearl can work with. She's all too eager to let the memories flee her head as she realizes she's no longer where she was once standing.

The other… well, the others, whoever they are, had vanished, leaving Pearl shakily standing next to a settlement of tall birch buildings. Their roof tiles are painted in colorful patterns, laid with colorful Nether wood planks and beams. They're quite well-constructed, Pearl can't help but notice, and with something of an absent smile on her face, she starts to explore.

"Can I help you?" someone's voice asks, confused and a little rough.

"Oh, I'm just looking around," Pearl says airily, occupied with the realization that something's stuck itself in her chest--not in the sense a sword would stick, in the place where happiness and joy make their nests. It's a glow. Not really an emotion, good or bad, just pure energy, a light of some kind. She frowns faintly, vaguely sure it hadn't been there before. It was mildly upsetting her, really. It wasn't bad, just--confusing, an extra piece in a puzzle with no room for it.

Regardless, she turns around slowly, her mind still drifting from the strange teleportation. She feels floaty, almost as if she's asleep, a giggle bubbling up from the back of her throat. It takes her a second to remember her name and give it to the stranger. "I'm Pearl."

The stranger blinks at her. "Um, I'm Scott. Ruler of Chromia."

Pearl hums. "'S really pretty, Ruler-of-Chromia-Scott. Very colorful."

"Just Scott is fine, actually," he corrects her, turning to leave the house they're standing in. "This way--I can take you to the inn."

She follows him complacently, wondrously gaping at all of the beautiful things in Chromia. The houses are all as beautiful as the ones she'd seen before, and the entire… city? country? was built atop a gorgeous mountain.

A patch of sunflowers await her as she trots behind Scott. Pearl smiles and plucks one, tucking it behind her ear as a long green dress billows around her ankles. She grabs and lifts the light, airy skirt and rushes to catch up to her tour guide.

Pearl's always loved sunflowers. They tilt their heads to look at her when she walks past, brighter than the sun, with a reverence she's not seen yet knows intimately.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

hello,

I've sent in a couple asks before so you may recognize my story but I just have to ask. I was an artist, worked my whole life to be close to good and I even made it into one of the top art schools in my state. Before I applied and even for half of my first semester, I admit I became lazy and greedy. To create art wasn't something that came from the heart anymore, I only cared about being "good" and drawing what was most popular or what I knew would get the most likes on my personal account. It got to a point where I faked my skills and traced all because I was to unconfident in myself. I lost everything and it made me really look at the kind of person I was becoming. I hated myself and it was the worst I'd ever been in terms of mental and physical health. for my second semester I purposefully took on a large number of classes and worked myself into exhaustion. I remember for one class I completely fumbled the final and embarrassed myself in front of the chairman of the department, everyone, and I felt so ridiculously small. I felt like I didn't deserve to call myself an artist, to be there, to even be alive. I attempted suicide over five times and shut down completely. At that point, I dropped out and told myself this wasn't the path for me. I left, began to pursue psychology, but part of me still wonders: what if I'd stayed? To be an artist, a real one, is painful. You love the work and the methods but it kills you to create something truly unique. No artist I've ever met is ever happy or content, we simply move on to the next project. Despite everything that's happened, I now wonder what I could've created had I stayed. Why did I leave? Why couldn't I handle it? Why did I do this to myself? Who am I now but another 20 year old who's flailing through life as if she knows what she's doing. Am I truly content being a psychologist for the rest of my life? Why didn't I stay?

I don't know what to do and whether or not going back would be a good idea. I think stepping away at the time was the right decision. If I continued the way I was going, I would've killed myself or worked myself sick. But, can I say the same now? The person I am now isn't the same as back then, so would the me I am today be able to handle what I couldn't back then?

It's so complicated and I don't know what to do. I look up to true artists who were able to overcome and create their own stories, become the people they wanted to be. I want to do the same, I have a message to spread and a story to tell, there's so much I want to express but my words will never do what I feel justice. Why can't I do this? Do I deserve the pain of an artist and the beauty of fruitful work? Will i become another invisible person in an unkind world dedicated to work I dont care about and money to keep me comfortable? What do I do?

Hello anon,

I wanted to begin by saying that I am so glad you’re here, and I’m so sorry things felt (what I imagine) so unbearable for quite some time for you.

I think you’re absolutely right that who you are now, is not who were back then.  Just going by patterns of behavior alone, it seems you’re taking care of yourself in a way you didn’t have the tools for before (and that’s not a knock!  We all have to learn skills that speak to us and those might be as varied as we are as individuals - if one thing worked for everyone, we’d all be doing it.  And of course that’s not even getting into the other important factors like resources, access to mental health care, and a support system).

Which I think helps segway into potential next steps - in that first I think it’s important to acknowledge that stereotypes of the “tortured, suffering, starving artist” are just that, a sterotype.  While the creative process can invoke a full spectrum of feelings, not all of them venture into the sphere of painful and strained (and that’s speaking as an artist myself).  I also think it’s important to do away with the notion that unless you check off a social-cultural check box of say, art school, you aren’t an “artist.”  This is where I copy and paste Picasso’s lovely quote: 

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”

And I think that is a problem I’ve seen among many people who want to be creative but aren’t sure if they have the “skills” the “degree” etc.  And while of course, depending on what you’re hoping to do with your art, it would be imperative to study and have some training - but who gets to define what your goals are?  You.  Who gets to say how you study and learn?  You.  You have the power to decide for yourself moving forward how you’d like to be creative.  And the best part?  You already are.  Everyone is.

Now you get to decide how you want to create (does it have to be in the same medium as before?  Could it be multiple mediums - mixed media, writing, poetry, ceramics, embroidery, digital art?  You don’t have to stick to one format).

And in what environments (getting a degree?  Taking local community classes to practice seeing how it feels to be in a classroom for it again?  Online courses if the social aspect feels overwhelming?  Free courses online in case you’re worrying about “wasting” money?)

And what you’d like to do with it (are you wanting to sell it?  Are you wanting to share it?  Are you hoping to process something during the creative process?)  

Nothing says you couldn’t get your current degree in psychology, while you do any and all of the things above.  Because the beauty is, you can have a “comfortable” situation with your job, and still be creative.  But it never has to be an either/or, or a waiting for all the stars to align kind of thing - you can tap into your creative side at any time, and see where it leads on not only your artistic journey, but you’re healing one as well.

Regardless of what your next steps might be, I wish you well, 

- Mod Kat

[carmasi]

Mercenary For Hire chapter 7 - part 3

All he saw was the flashed of energy hit the  beast before it all went blank. The ice salamander, scratched yet again before the mercenary eyes blinked, he was out for what it seemed like a second before he came to it. The loud banging awoke him, he almost ran as he saw the claws of the beast clash with an invisible wall. He looked around, the warlock was by his side. She did her best to keep whatever it was that surrounded them. Her eyes were filled with tears. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Wright, I’m sorry” she cried out. 

“ you can’t die, please, Wright, Wright  please don’t die” she sobbed, her voice a crack of a whisper. She was so worried. She was so focus, she haven’t even notice him wake. 

“I’m fine” he groaned,  bringing himself to stand.  She let out a sigh of relief before another loud thud was heard, and she shook. The claws of the beast hit the invisible wall again, as  she continue trembling, and so did the walls.

“What’s that?” he asked finally standing. She looked so strained.

“It’s a white prison” he raised a brow, still in awe, not understanding, he haven’t heard of such thing before. “It-it's meant to trap monsters” Kyrius sobbed as she tried explained. “No damage can be caused except from ghost property” it was the best she could describe it really, in their current situation she wasn’t able to get into the mechanics of it all. She trembled once more, the MVp’s attempt to reach them was taking a toll on her, mentally and physically. “can you attack?” he asked, but she shook her head.“ not while the prison is up” Kyrius  explained, worried filled her voice. They only had a good five, or ten seconds before the prison disappeared. “I’m sorry Mr. Wright I’ve brought you into this, I’ll distract him, you can escape, is alright” With a gentle smile,  she looked over at his clear silver eyes, hers were  teary  and fogged, but  still she smiled regardless. He frowned, as he picked his sword, “ bring this thing down” he called and almost made her jump in surprise,  she tried to complaint but he refuted. Hi sword now unsheathed, and his feet firm to the ground, he commanded, “ get one more spell ready, just one more. I’ll get that scale for you” his voice was low  when he spoke. He couldn't fathom the idea of letting her down.

“It’s not going to work!” she cried out. “Please leave! Maheo was right, I’m incompetent, I am a disgrace to my class, and I don’t know what got into me to even think I could do this, I was never talented, I was not a talented wizard and Being a warlock doesn’t make it any different, I’m nothing but a failure” he bite his lips hearing how her voice cracked with each word, in the little time they’ve spend together he’s gotten used to a completely different side of her, to a warmth he wished never stopped. He clenched his fists. “He’s wrong!” he yelled, and Kyrius halted. “ I- I can’t  say I know you long, but you’re brilliant! You’re.. You’re beaming! Don’t let that guy get to you, now  … one more spell,  ger one more spell ready, you got this!” he scolded and took his sword in his stance “now!” she nodded and he charged again, she thought of something that would buy them enough time before she chanted  “Te-Tetra vortex” she casted nervously,  but nothing happened. She looked over at her hands shakingly “it didn’t work… I..” she looked up at him, he was fighting, giving it all he got  “ he’s doing his best and I-i can't even do this much”.

He noticed her hesitation, and as he saw her tremble, her knees almost buckle, again he could feel  her fears, and her uncertainties.  His sword clashed with the beast claws again. She continued to shake, taking a couple of steps back in misbelief.  “What, what did I do wrong , why won’t it work?” she continue to mumble, disappointment and humiliation filled her, still she stepped backwards, each step closer, and closer to the edge “Focus!” he screamed.  She was oh so near the edge of the cliff that was in the middle of the cave. As he called out she stopped, pebbles crashing down the steep cliff and all she saw was darkness down that pit. Her gaze place back in front of her and saw him fight, he was spent. “Think about what’s missing!” he screamed again, barely dodging another frost driver. “I D-don’t know, I ” she looked around the cave, as she tried her hardest to remember. What was she missing? What was the spell missing?  From the corner of her eyes she notice a  siroma, peek through and ran off. Poor thing must’ve been scare. Such a small creature, so round, and fluffy just like a snow - “ ball..”  her eyes grew wide when she finally remembered, of course. 

“summoning - Lighting ball!”

Kyrius murmured a couple times and soon was surrounded by circular energy pockets which crackle with wind magic and electric current. He smirked as he looked her way,  the determination in her eyes, the magic current that surrounded her, now embraced her. Unlike before, she was now in control. “TETRA VORTEX” at the top of her lungs she screamed words of the spell she prepared for, the blast of energy connecting with the beast, and another loud screech was heard, the beast was slain. The Ice salamander was down. He fell to his knees as he saw the salamander disappear, then looked back at her, a glimpse of a smile almost adorned his face, his all too serious face. 

Her face was smudge with dirt, but also relieved, her clothes were slightly torn off and the neat braid that adorned her hair when they first arrived was undone.  She looked almost feral, though, not as much as he did. She smiled when her eyes met his, but a rumble in the ground made her falter.  She missed a step, forgetting how close she was to the edge. She fell.  “is this.. Is this How I die?” she thought to herself while her body weight overtook her, darkness was all she could see as she was swallowed up by the cave’s mouth. She was too tired to even fight, her eyes closed as she let herself be swallowed whole. 

His silver eyes widen and he rushed to her when he saw her falter. Without thinking, he launched himself to the abyss in order to catch her. His arms quickly wrapped around her protectively, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt. He could tell her body was tired and he could see her eyes were closed, she was unconscious by now. But  still, he will carried out his mission at whatever cost. He will protect her. He wanted to protect her. Not because it was his mission. “no”  he whimpered as he brought her face closer to his chest  “because…”  she was the woman he’d fallen for. 

[parvulous-writings]

Viktor // SFW alphabet

Request:     Viktor sfw alphabet?

Requested by: ​anon

Warnings: None

Notes:  *gets one nice reblog, immediately kicks into gear* I’m baaack! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!   If you’d like to support me more, consider donating to my kofi! I’d appreciate it loads!! 

Not my gif 

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Typically Viktor does not show affection in the most typical or conventional sense. Occasionally, when the two of you are alone, he will do - the occasional brief kiss against your temple, or a sleepy hug.  His primary way of showing affection is through a combination of acts of service and gift giving. He’ll make small trinkets to make your daily life easier, or just something he knows you will enjoy. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

Viktor is a combination of the snarky friend, and the concern friend. He’ll sass you when the moment is right, but then, if something’s worrying him about you, he’ll show that he’s worried. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Viktor doesn’t often cuddle - he’s rather touch-starved and can be a little awkward around cuddling at times. Unless he’s asleep - then he loves cuddling. He’ll snuggle up to you, and nuzzle into you - the works. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

He’s not great at cooking - usually his main meals were provided by the academy. He can make a few, small meals, but nothing grand. Cleaning he’s alright at - not that his workshop would tell you that. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It’s likely he’ll just completely blank you for several days, pouring himself into his work rather than socialising. Eventually, if you mention about it, he will tell you rather bluntly how he feels - or, rather, how he no longer feels. After that, he will fall silent, and continue ignoring you again. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)  

Viktor feels he is too committed to his work to settle down in that way with you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to - it’s more that he does not feel he will be able to balance his life at work and his life as a partner in a productive or healthy way.  

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Viktor isn’t entirely certain on other’s people’s emotions all of the time. He can identify some of the basics, of course, but may struggle in figuring out why someone feels that way, or knowing how to help. It will take him some time, but he will learn how to take care of you emotionally should you need it. Physically he is quite gentle, always approaching you with a feather-light touch. As if you are nothing more than a dream, something akin to quicksand; if he tries to grip you too tightly (both figuratively and literally), you will escape his grasp. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

At first, Viktor will be a little nervous and unsure of of hugs, much like with his cuddles. He’ll probably grow somewhat accustomed to hugs after some time, and may even become dependent on them to some degree.  At first they are awkward, and he’s not entirely sure where to put his arms, or what to do, so most of the time you’re given an awkward pat on the back. Over time and with some practice (or ‘experimentation’ as Viktor mentally dubs it) they become less strained and more natural, more human and emotional, in a sense. 

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

Viktor does not say this for a very, very long time. You could have said it five times or more before he even considers it; purely out of fear. Even if you say it several times before him, he has somehow convinced himself that you would not, could not, feel the same way. The first time he does say it, it’s quiet - as if saying the words risk his own life; and he supposed, in a way, he thought it did. If you were to reject him, his love, he would never recover from it. You don’t hear him this time - he has to take two or three more stabs at it before he finally manages to tell you properly. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Viktor will get quietly jealous- but if you know him even a little bit, he’ll be easy to read. He’ll start pouring himself into his work again, giving you only huffs or grunts in reply to your questions. If you’re lucky, he might give you a short, curt word or sentence.  “Viktor?” “Hm?”  “Are you alright?”  “Yes.”  “Are you sure? It’s just you’ve been a little quiet today, and I was wondering if something was upsetting you...”  “I am fine.” 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Viktor loves receiving kisses - but like with hugs and cuddles, he’s a little under-experienced when it comes to giving them. His favourite place to be kissed - his cheek - is basic, but to him, it shows plenty of affection. He likes to kiss you on your hands and fingers when he gains the confidence, taking care with each individual kiss. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Viktor is alright seriously mentoring kids above a certain age, and will help younger kids with work in school; but as a parent he feels like he wouldn’t be able to fare too well, and would end up hindering the child more than helping them. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Viktor is often up much earlier than you, leaving you to wake up alone. On the plus(?) side, however, he normally opts out of making himself breakfast before either leaving for the academy or starting to work, so you get the opportunity to make him breakfast most mornings. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Viktor will spend his time working until ungodly hours; most of the time you will have to gently coax him away from his project with promise of good rest, and a lot of affection. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

If you ask, he’ll tell. Otherwise, information about his childhood, insecurities and the like come in dribs and drabs. He doesn’t try to actively hide any of this from you, but he won’t directly open up about it unless you ask. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a decent amount of patience - considering he has worked on the same tech for god knows how long, only growing frustrated when those around him do not realise the intent of his work, and realising his days are numbered. Outside of this, though, he has a lot of patience. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

A lot - if you tell him your favourite food, or your favourite colour, he will find a way to remind you every so often, that he remembers, that he cares about you. He’ll even get Jayce to get you your favourite food on his behalf, if he’s unable. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He was starting to teach you his and Jayce’s theory surrounding Hextech. He was speaking very passionately about his personal plans concerning the technology - helping others and improving their lives with something that could quite literally change your worlds. He paused at one point, realising how long he had been talking for, before glancing to see if you were paying attention. Not only were you paying attention, the amount of love he saw in your eyes was so endearing he almost burst out in tears of both relief and joy. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

He’s quite secure in the way that he trusts you. He knows full well you can look after yourself well enough - and he’s aware of the fact that he can do little himself. He knows you would come to him if there was anything you needed - whether that be a place to vent, or some advice.  If you wanted a physical protector he’d ask Jayce. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

Viktor’s primary struggle is with balancing his work life, with his personal life. Oftentimes, he spends far too much time in his workshop, the rest of the world out of sight and out of mind for him. Though, when he realises how long it’s been since he’s checked  in or seen you, he will work just as hard to make it up to you. Yes, it can be a viscous cycle, but he’s working hard to both show his love for you, and improve the lives of the public. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

Neglecting himself. He forgets to take care of himself - sleeping, eating, sometimes hygiene also. It gets very bad on a somewhat regular basis; you may have to convince him to step away from his work to take care of himself. (You may also have to help him). 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not overly; he’ll make himself presentable for the academy, but outside of that, he isn’t too bothered about how he appears.  That is, until, you invited him out on a date - he then starts to panic. “I’ve got nothing to wear that would appeal to them, Jayce! What do I wear?” He’s pacing back and forth, stressing over something that likely won’t make too much of a difference in the long run - over every little detail to try and appear to you as the perfect man, the one you want to be with, not just the one you put up with. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would - he’d miss your presence, your gentle reminders for him to take care of himself. He misses your comfort at night - the way you would hold him, the quiet whispers of reassurance. He missed receiving that - he missed giving that. Needless to say, he would isolate himself further to prevent himself from ever feeling this pain again. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

Viktor has made you many random little gadgets for around your home; a machine to help you make your morning drink? Simple. A little robot to entertain you and keep you company? Oh, but of course. His favourite trinket that he gave you was a small music box, which played your favourite lullaby. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Someone who doesn’t listen. Viktor likes communication in a relationship - even if he isn’t always so good at it himself. He will get frustrated at a lack of clear communication, and eventually he may have an outburst about it. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)  

Viktor sleeps very little. He goes to bed late (if at all), and gets up very early in the morning. The only time he really sleeps at any length of time through the night is because he’s ill. Is this healthy? Of course not. He vows, however, that once the hextech is readily available to the public, and improving their lives, he will try and take care of himself a little more. 

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect​ @skrtbeepbeep​  @lanadreamie​ @nctstrawberrycow​  @meonlightuniverxse​ @sunshinedhyuck​ @haechanswhore​ @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr​ @kpopmultiifandomm​ @d1nne​ @neobanguniverse​ @pewpewpwe00​ @abitofafan​ @haechansworld​ @born5sos​ @bockhyun​ @prettychannie​ @xuyiyangstan​@alexameliamg​ @ahsshilee​ @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl

[puttingherinhistory]

“Covid has unleashed the most severe setback to women’s liberation in my lifetime. While watching this happen, I have started to think we are witnessing an outbreak of disaster patriarchy.

Naomi Klein was the first to identify “disaster capitalism”, when capitalists use a disaster to impose measures they couldn’t possibly get away with in normal times, generating more profit for themselves. Disaster patriarchy is a parallel and complementary process, where men exploit a crisis to reassert control and dominance, and rapidly erase hard-earned women’s rights. (The term “racialized disaster patriarchy” was used by Rachel E Luft in writing about an intersectional model for understanding disaster 10 years after Hurricane Katrina.) All over the world, patriarchy has taken full advantage of the virus to reclaim power – on the one hand, escalating the danger and violence to women, and on the other, stepping in as their supposed controller and protector.

I have spent months interviewing activists and grassroots leaders around the world, from Kenya to France to India, to find out how this process is affecting them, and how they are fighting back. In very different contexts, five key factors come up again and again. In disaster patriarchy, women lose their safety, their economic power, their autonomy, their education, and they are pushed on to the frontlines, unprotected, to be sacrificed. 

Part of me hesitates to use the word “patriarchy”, because some people feel confused by it, and others feel it’s archaic. I have tried to imagine a newer, more contemporary phrase for it, but I have watched how we keep changing language, updating and modernising our descriptions in an attempt to meet the horror of the moment. I think, for example, of all the names we have given to the act of women being beaten by their partner. First, it was battery, then domestic violence, then intimate partner violence, and most recently intimate terrorism. We are forever doing the painstaking work of refining and illuminating, rather than insisting the patriarchs work harder to deepen their understanding of a system that is eviscerating the planet. So, I’m sticking with the word. 

In this devastating time of Covid we have seen an explosion of violence towards women, whether they are cisgender or gender-diverse. Intimate terrorism in lockdown has turned the home into a kind of torture chamber for millions of women. We have seen the spread of revenge porn as lockdown has pushed the world online; such digital sexual abuse is now central to domestic violence as intimate partners threaten to share sexually explicit images without victims’ consent. 

The conditions of lockdown – confinement, economic insecurity, fear of illness, excess of alcohol – were a perfect storm for abuse. It is hard to determine what is more disturbing: the fact that in 2021 thousands of men still feel willing and entitled to control, torture and beat their wives, girlfriends and children, or that no government appears to have thought about this in their planning for lockdown. 

In Peru, hundreds of women and girls have gone missing since lockdown was imposed, and are feared dead. According to official figures reported by Al Jazeera, 606 girls and 309 women went missing between 16 March and 30 June last year. Worldwide, the closure of schools has increased the likelihood of various forms of violence. The US Rape Abuse and Incest National Network says its helpline for survivors of sexual assault has never been in such demand in its 26-year history, as children are locked in with abusers with no ability to alert their teachers or friends. In Italy, calls to the national anti-violence toll-free number increased by 73% between 1 March and 16 April 2020, according to the activist Luisa Rizzitelli. In Mexico, emergency call handlers received the highest number of calls in the country’s history, and the number of women who sought domestic violence shelters quadrupled. 

To add outrage to outrage, many governments reduced funding for these shelters at the exact moment they were most needed. This seems to be true throughout Europe. In the UK, providers told Human Rights Watch that the Covid-19 crisis has exacerbated a lack of access to services for migrant and Black, Asian and minority ethnic women. The organisations working with these communities say that persistent inequality leads to additional difficulties in accessing services such as education, healthcare and disaster relief remotely. 

In the US, more than 5 million women’s jobs were lost between the start of the pandemic and November 2020. Because much of women’s work requires physical contact with the public – restaurants, stores, childcare, healthcare settings – theirs were some of the first to go. Those who were able to keep their jobs were often frontline workers whose positions have put them in great danger; some 77% of hospital workers and 74% percent of school staff are women. Even then, the lack of childcare options left many women unable to return to their jobs. Having children does not have this effect for men. The rate of unemployment for Black and Latina women was higher before the virus, and now it is even worse. 

The situation is more severe for women in other parts of the world. Shabnam Hashmi, a leading women’s activist from India, tells me that by April 2020 a staggering 39.5% of women there had lost their jobs. “Work from home is very taxing on women as their personal space has disappeared, and workload increased threefold,” Hashmi says. In Italy, existing inequalities have been amplified by the health emergency. Rizzitelli points out that women already face lower employment, poorer salaries and more precarious contracts, and are rarely employed in “safe” corporate roles; they have been the first to suffer the effects of the crisis. “Pre-existing economic, social, racial and gender inequalities have been accentuated, and all of this risks having longer-term consequences than the virus itself,” Rizzitelli says. 

When women are put under greater financial pressure, their rights rapidly erode. With the economic crisis created by Covid, sex- and labour-trafficking are again on the rise. Young women who struggle to pay their rent are being preyed on by landlords, in a process known as “sextortion”. 

I don’t think we can overstate the level of exhaustion, anxiety and fear that women are suffering from taking care of families, with no break or time for themselves. It’s a subtle form of madness. As women take care of the sick, the needy and the dying, who takes care of them? Colani Hlatjwako, an activist leader from the Kingdom of Eswatini, sums it up: “Social norms that put a heavy caregiving burden on women and girls remain likely to make their physical and mental health suffer.” These structures also impede access to education, damage livelihoods, and strip away sources of support.

Unesco estimates that upward of 11 million girls may not return to school once the Covid pandemic subsides. The Malala Fund estimates an even bigger number: 20 million. Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, from UN Women, says her organisation has been fighting for girls’ education since the Beijing UN women’s summit in 1995. “Girls make up the majority of the schoolchildren who are not going back,” she says. “We had been making progress – not perfect, but we were keeping them at school for longer. And now, to have these girls just dropping out in one year, is quite devastating.” 

Of all these setbacks, this will be the most significant. When girls are educated, they know their rights, and what to demand. They have the possibility of getting jobs and taking care of their families. When they can’t access education, they become a financial strain to their families and are often forced into early marriages. 

This has particular implications for female genital mutilation (FGM). Often, fathers will accept not subjecting their daughters to this process because their daughters can become breadwinners through being educated. If there is no education, then the traditional practices resume, so that daughters can be sold for dowries. As Agnes Pareyio, chairwoman of the Kenyan Anti-Female Genital Mutilation Board, tells me: “Covid closed our schools and brought our girls back home. No one knew what was going on in the houses. We know that if you educate a girl, FGM will not happen. And now, sadly the reverse is true.” 

In the early months of the pandemic, I had a front-row seat to the situation of nurses in the US, most of whom are women. I worked with National Nurses United, the biggest and most radical nurses’ union, and interviewed many nurses working on the frontline. I watched as for months they worked gruelling 12-hour shifts filled with agonising choices and trauma, acting as midwives to death. On their short lunch breaks, they had to protest over their own lack of personal protective equipment, which put them in even greater danger. In the same way that no one thought what it would mean to lock women and children in houses with abusers, no one thought what it would be like to send nurses into an extremely contagious pandemic without proper PPE. In some US hospitals, nurses were wearing garbage bags instead of gowns, and reusing single-use masks many times. They were being forced to stay on the job even if they had fevers.

The treatment of nurses who were risking their lives to save ours was a shocking kind of violence and disrespect. But there are many other areas of work where women have been left unprotected, from the warehouse workers who are packing and shipping our goods, to women who work in poultry and meat plants who are crammed together in dangerous proximity and forced to stay on the job even when they are sick. One of the more stunning developments has been with “tipped” restaurant workers in the US, already allowed to be paid the shockingly low wage of $2.13 (£1.50) an hour, which has remained the same for the past 22 years. Not only has work declined, tips have also declined greatly for those women, and now a new degradation called “maskular harassment” has emerged, where male customers insist waitresses take off their masks so they can determine if and how much to tip them based on their looks. 

Women farm workers in the US have seen their protections diminished while no one was looking. Mily Treviño-Sauceda, executive director of Alianza Nacional de Campesinas, tells me how pressures have increased on campesinas, or female farm workers: “There have been more incidents of pesticides poisonings, sexual abuse and heat stress issues, and there is less monitoring from governmental agencies or law enforcement due to Covid-19.” 

Covid has revealed the fact that we live with two incompatible ideas when it comes to women. The first is that women are essential to every aspect of life and our survival as a species. The second is that women can easily be violated, sacrificed and erased. This is the duality that patriarchy has slashed into the fabric of existence, and that Covid has laid bare. If we are to continue as a species, this contradiction needs to be healed and made whole. 

To be clear, the problem is not the lockdowns, but what the lockdowns, and the pandemic that required them, have made clear. Covid has revealed that patriarchy is alive and well; that it will reassert itself in times of crisis because it has never been truly deconstructed, and like an untreated virus it will return with a vengeance when the conditions are ripe. 

The truth is that unless the culture changes, unless patriarchy is dismantled, we will forever be spinning our wheels. Coming out of Covid, we need to be bold, daring, outrageous and to imagine a more radical way of existing on the Earth. We need to continue to build and spread activist movements. We need progressive grassroots women and women of colour in positions of power. We need a global initiative on the scale of a Marshall Plan or larger, to deconstruct and exorcise patriarchy – which is the root of so many other forms of oppression, from imperialism to racism, from transphobia to the denigration of the Earth. 

There would first be a public acknowledgment, and education, about the nature of patriarchy and an understanding that it is driving us to our end. There would be ongoing education, public forums and processes studying how patriarchy leads to various forms of oppression. Art would help expunge trauma, grief, aggression, sorrow and anger in the culture and help heal and make people whole. We would understand that a culture that has diabolical amnesia and refuses to address its past can only repeat its misfortunes and abuses. Community and religious centres would help members deal with trauma. We would study the high arts of listening and empathy. Reparations and apologies would be done in public forums and in private meetings. Learning the art of apology would be as important as prayer.

The feminist author Gerda Lerner wrote in 1986: “The system of patriarchy in a historic construct has a beginning and it will have an end. Its time seems to have nearly run its course. It no longer serves the needs of men and women, and its intractable linkage to militarism, hierarchy and racism has threatened the very existence of life on Earth.”

As powerful as patriarchy is, it’s just a story. As the post-pandemic era unfolds, can we imagine another system, one that is not based on hierarchy, violence, domination, colonialisation and occupation? Do we see the connection between the devaluing, harming and oppression of all women and the destruction of the Earth itself? What if we lived as if we were kin? What if we treated each person as sacred and essential to the unfolding story of humanity? 

What if rather than exploiting, dominating and hurting women and girls during a crisis, we designed a world that valued them, educated them, paid them, listened to them, cared for them and centred them?“

[staysuki]

SHOW ALL YOUR COLOURS | l.minho fic

pairing: lee know x reader [strangers]

genre: fluff(?) yeah

word count: 4.5k

warnings: off-handed diet comment, anxiety

synopsis: you meet minho. that's it.

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @ethereallino @ninjaleeknow @trials--error @hey-i-really-miss-you @caratinylyfe @soobin-chois @mochisnlix

networks: @ficscafe

a/n: this is something that's been in my drafts for a long time so i'm releasing it from the basement as a small little valentines gift. but i'm also very very cruel, you'll know why.

there's many things you're grateful for in life, one of those things is the fact that you have the objectively sweetest human being on the planet as your bestfriend.

you were grateful for the fact that lee felix was born and the threads of fate spun just the right amount to put your lives together.

however, if there's anything about felix that you weren't grateful for, it's the way he approached life with such carefree attitude with everything; such as not telling you that he had a roommate before offering his place for you to stay when your apartment went under maintenance for poor construction.

"why didn't you tell me you had someone living with you?!?"

"why? he's nice! and also we have separate rooms anyway so you don't even have to interact with him if you don't want to."

"well, what about you?"

"my sister is in town! i'm staying with her for a while, i hope you don't mind being alone?"

"how can i be alone when you apparently have a roommate you didn't warn me about."

"aw, that's the spirit! thanks y/n, love you always."

"i was being sarcast—"

the line dropped before you could finish your sentence. typical yongbok.

the worst part is, you found out about said roommate all because the parking space for their unit was occupied by a very sexy motorcycle and you had nowhere to park your own vehicle, so even though you weren't a big fan of breaking the rules, you just parked it at some random free space hoping some other unit owner doesn't own it.

you sighed as you pulled out your luggage, shoulders sagging in anticipation. the motorcycle looked highly familiar, a nagging feeling echoing at the back of your head as you tried to place who it belonged to but you were pulling on strings without an end.

with your immense luck, you find that the elevator is currently closed for repair, reading the sign posted on its sleek metal doors, shouting in your mind that you made a bad decision choosing to run to felix instead of sucking it up and staying with lia alongside her four other roommates.

"but you know i hate people!"

"sucks to be you then."

—you mentally cursed, remembering the conversation you had with her before felix offered his own room. you were excited at first, especially since you know that he likes to keep tidy and since he's lowkey born in wealth, he had a nice apartment— you just didn't know that he didn't have the apartment all to himself.

"having someone to split the bill saves money, yknow?" he reasoned during your call earlier and you couldn't really fault him for the smart financial decision.

but now that you face the challenge of having to carry your luggage through three flights of stairs, all will to continue was drained out of your body.

but as your mind debated the thought of enduring physical strain compared to rooming with five socially adept girls in one room, your feet found it's own determination to continue.

you weren't even halfway through yet but your lungs were giving out. not that you have asthma or anything, you were just badly lacking of extreme stamina.

suddenly you heard footsteps coming from above, making you stand up straight and pretend to be doing fine even though you were heaving like there's no tomorrow. you sucked up a breath and continued to tread your way up, making sure not to look awkward and weak in case the stranger takes a judgmental look towards you.

"let me help you," you heard a voice say, making you look up. it seems like the universe had pitied your state, blessing you with a divinely good looking man with dark hair, plump pouty lips, and facial structure that seemed to rival adonis'.

although his face looked cold and unwelcoming, his voice dripped a subtle nonchalant kindness as he coolly took the suitcase from your hands, not waiting for your answer.

which was probably a sign that you were staring too much— though your mind would prefer not to think that way or else you'd implode from embarrassment.

"o-oh um, thank you so much!" you stammered, following suit as he carried your luggage with ease. you saw his arms flex underneath his short sleeves making you gulp. though at this current moment, you were too busy being jealous of his strength rather than to admire more of his attractiveness.

your walk upstairs took shorter than if you tried to do it alone, all thanks to this attractive stranger who was kind enough to offer you help even though he didn't need to. though something bugged the back of your mind, wondering about the sense of familiarity you feel about the man that you couldn't place.

"how did you know i was going here?" you asked as you faced room 37, your best friend's apartment.

"i'm felix's roommate."

you were left alone in felix's room gnawing at your nails as you called lia, the dial tone providing some amount of comfort as you teetered around the room, hoping to ask something.

after the bomb that felix's roommate dropped on you, he just went straight inside to guide you to your best friend's room and then went back to his own, but you felt a slight tug in your heart when you realized that he must've gone down just to help you, probably told by felix to help you out. though he didn't bother for friendly introductions or awkward small talk, you preferred it that way and was a bit glad that he doesn't seem like the talking type either.

for someone that screams 'aloof' he seemed to be very kind, and since he said yes to felix's request on helping you, you guessed that they were also probably very close roommates.

"y/n? you okay?"

you snapped out of your stupor, not realizing that lia had already picked up a couple of seconds ago whilst your mind was busy running all over the place.

"yeah! i just arrived in the apartment, i just met felix's roommate— well, technically, he didn't introduce himself but i saw him now, at least."

"isn't he roommates with lee minho?" she asked, a certain tone lacing her curiosity. but now that she mentioned the name, it rang a bell in your memory. felix did mention his mystery roommate from time to time but you hadn't put the pieces together, thinking that they were just friends and not living together.

although in felix's stories, he seemed like a decent guy, you've also heard about his campus reputation. read: not good.

"y/n, are you listening?"

you nodded, but then slapped yourself on the forehead realizing that lia wouldn't have seen you so you just hummed in response. "yeah, i am."

"i'm just saying that you should be careful around him, isn't he like, bad news?"

"i don't know much about him, to be honest."

you heard lia shouting for someone in the background, probably scouring for gossip, you sighed at the thought of her calling someone over to talk with you on the phone again but thankfully, she just asked and delivered the information.

"well, yeji knows her from dance class and apparently he's just overall intimidating. most girls often change partners whenever they end up getting assigned to him, except for the ones who're obsessed with him because of his looks. she personally haven't had the chance to interact much with him though, they haven't been partnered together but i heard that he's friends with her twin, hyunjin, alongside felix."

"i see—"

"—and! not just that, ryujin also sees him a lot in parties and he's often seen going home with girls, the drunk ones that feel bold to approach him. she says she's never seen him leave a party with the same girl, isn't that kinda slimy?"

she recounted all the details she knew about the motorcycle-riding bad boy, moreso all the rumors that surrounded him.

although you listened intently, a part of you couldn't help but give minho the benefit of the doubt— all of the things lia had listed were things that he does in his personal time, as long as he treats you nicely then it should be okay, right? and you trusted felix and his good judge of character. as long as he isn't doing any crime, that's good enough for you.

however, you didn't really have enough braincells to think that maybe there wasn't any truth to some of the rumors, that perhaps it was just a bad case of the halo effect. and so, you took lia's words as fact.

next order of business? figure out a way to thank minho for all the trouble, though you didn't know what he likes and how you'd even present him with the courtesy.

"hi! thanks for helping me settle in, here's some food— no that sounds stupid." you practiced, now dialing felix's number for help.

"hello?" a deep australian voice reverbated through the phone's speaker as your best friend answered the call.

"what does minho like?" you asked, getting straight to the point.

"ummm, he doesn't really have a type, just whoever he vibes with and—"

you doubled back in confusion, "what?"

"what?"

"what are you saying?" you clarified.

"what kind of girls minho likes?"

you almost choked on your spit dumfoundedly, "what?! no! i meant food or things or something."

"ohhhh, i thought you were already making a move after thirty minutes of arriving."

"when have i ever even made a move on someone."

"fair enough, but minho has a strong effect on people so who knows."

you rolled your eyes, thinking that the man across the halls doesn't have much effect on you, unfortunately, you also knew that you were in denial, "well, it was very nice of him to help me out because you told him to so i just wanted to thank him."

"hm? what do you mean?"

"you told him to help me carry my luggage right?"

"no? i just told him what time you'd arrive and that you'd stay in my room all the time so he doesn't have to worry about getting disturbed. he helped you out?"

you suddenly felt shy at the revelation, "oh... well yeah, probably just a coincidence that we met on the stairs then."

"mm."

with felix being of no help to your cause (because he somehow branched out to five different tangents about the different games you can play on his pc and how soft his mattress is and his vaguely concealed threat about kicking you out if he sees his room get messy), you figured that food would probably the safest bet and just hung up before he could continue his rant about how the bee movie is severely overrated.

you scrolled through the delivery app, pondering your options.

but what if he doesn't like what you choose?

what if he's allergic to something?

what if he prefers home cooked meals?

so many doubts plagued your mind but you figured you'd just go for it, opting for the safe "burgers and fries" combo.

you paced around the room, not knowing what to do next while you waited for the delivery. you already unpacked your belongings into the closet space that felix offered you and as a hardworking student, you didn't have any schoolwork you could use to distract yourself in the meantime.

you leaned on the door, listening to what lies beyond the wood that separates you from the rest of the apartment but it was quiet— really quiet. maybe this was really just how they lived, minding their own spaces.

you normally liked it that way but there was a part of you that yearned for an interaction with the guy across your room. you were curious about him and about what kind of person he is, but you weren't the type who can easily strike up a casual conversation.

maybe you could hang around the living room and wait for him to go out and approach you.

yeah, that sounds like a plan!

you bunkered down in their living room, browsing felix's netflix, silently judging his weird taste in shows. your stomach grumbled in impatience as you haven't had anything to eat since this morning because you were so nervous about moving in.

"are you hungry?" a question behind you made you jump from the couch, banging your shin on the coffee table in the process. you bit your cheek, trying your best to swallow the scream, breathing away the pain.

your eyes landed on minho who seemed startled with your skit but didn't know what to do. he looked like he was stuck between wanting to check on you and wanting to keep his distance as far as possible, seeing him idle by the kitchen.

"i-im fine," you assured, clenching your teeth to compose yourself as you shot him a smile (though you can feel that it was more of a grimace).

"i heard your stomach," he said, deciding to just ignor what had happened and continue with his first inquiry, you were more than grateful for that.

"it's okay, i ordered us food, if that's alright."

"what did you get?"

"mcdonalds.." you see him bite his cheek, tilting his head to the side in thought. you couldn't read his expression but you didn't need to: he doesn't like mcdonalds.

"is that so, thanks then." he said casually, although it felt a bit distant, his voice sounded soft and sweet but you can tell that something was a bit off, though before you can even ask about it, the door rang signifying the food's arrival.

"hm? he doesn't eat stuff like that often since he's a dance major, he likes to eat healthy. he goes to the gym with changbin so i think they both have the same routine and diet."

"then why didn't you tell me that last night when i asked!!" your voice was in a harsh whisper, not that you think minho would hear you across the hall as you had your phone call with your best friend but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"i didn't think you'd get mcdonalds, you don't even like it that much either! besides, you're bestfriends with lia who is friends with yeji who's also majoring in dance, i figured you'd know that they're careful with fastfood!"

"everyone eats mcdonalds okay?!" you groaned in second hand embarrassment. "besides, i'm not close with yeji, that's just lia. i'm not like you two where my friends' friends become close to me too."

"how are you two doing though? adjusting well to living together?"

"we both stay in our room pretty much all the time and we only ever have to endure a maximum of five minutes when we coincidentally go out at the same time to get something from the kitchen or use the bathroom so it hasn't really been that overwhelming."

you recounted your times since moving in yesterday, aside from the moments where he helped carry your luggage to your room and the mcdonalds disaster, you've seen each other a maximum of two times, and it was purely coincidental. when he went out to get water and you were snacking on the counter. then when he was watching tv while you went to use the bathroom; both times you didn't even bother talking to each other at all.

and now, since you both have different class schedules, going outside doesn't coincide with each other. all indications of each other's presence solely rely on hearing doors opening and closing— such as right now. though minho wouldn't know if you were home, you heard his room door slam shut when he got back from class.

"see! i told you it'll be fine, this is why i didn't bother telling you in the first place." felix reasoned making you roll your eyes.

"no, you definitely still should've told me."

with a bunch of apologies bombarded your way, you once again dropped your call with lee felix. you sighed, just a week y/n, you can endure living with a stranger for seven days.

meanwhile, what you didn't know is that everytime you finished talking to felix, the man across your room takes his turn to do so.

"hey minmin~ are you taking care of yourself well?" felix greeted over the phone as he talked to his roommate.

"why do you sound like my mother."

"i'm worried about you, that's why! you don't like living with strangers after all."

"it's alright. i mean, you already told me that she wouldn't be a bother and so far, she hasn't been," minho replied with a shrug, fixing the airpods in his ears so he can converse with his friend while practicing routines. "she's quiet and keeps to herself, i actually like living with her more than you."

"i am thoroughly offended by that."

"great, that was the intention."

felix chuckles from the other end of the line, "you know, if you treat her right, maybe she might just stay for longer~" he said, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he scrolled through his phone, remembering that he has your landlord's number— because of course he has, it's lee felix.

"i always treat people right."

the freckled boy rolled his eyes, though the recipient wouldn't have seen it, "you know what i mean— try to actually talk to her or something."

"you're acting suspicious." minho squinted in doubt, though felix wouldn't have been able to see.

"pfft, my best friend just needed a place to crash and i thought it's the perfect opportunity to practice two introverts' social skills. isn't it great? baby steps."

"we live together now, i don't think this still counts as baby steps."

"whatever whatever~ why don't you start by thanking her for mcdonalds, or better yet, tell her what kind of food you like."

minho clicked his tongue but held his comments, he has a soft spot for felix so despite his pushiness, he just let it be.

"i'll consider it."

"i worked part time in h.r. before, i know that means no—"

minho hung up, deciding to ignore felix as he went back to focusing on his dance routine, a soft knock on his door followed, missing it the first few times because of how soft it was in comparison to the music blaring in his ears.

as he swung open his door, it revealed a semi-disheveled you; with oversized pajamas and a small pout— the sight making his heart skip for a moment, yet the man waved it off as a mere surprise from seeing you approach him.

"can i help you?"

"s-sorry, i'm trying to sleep early and the stomping.." you pointed on the floor, mimicking the stomping but it just made you look like a child having tantrums. it took everything for minho not to laugh at the scene.

"my bad, i'll stop."

"it's okay! it's for your class right? you know what, nevermind, forget i said anything, sorry!"

minho's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he watched you flimsily run back to your room. not expecting that felix wasn't exaggerating about your personality.

that night, as much as you wanted to say that you had slept like a log— you really weren't able to.

true to his words, minho stopped dancing (even though you told him to continue) which made you feel horrible. it's not like he's just causing a racket! it's for class!

aside from that, you couldn't miss the way your breath had caught in your throat when he greeted you in all his attractive glory. how does sweat glistened on his skin, his shirt clinging to his form, it's unfair how one can look that good despite being exhausted. some people are simply favored by the gods and you were certain that lee minho was one of them.

now, you're stuck with the dilemma of not knowing how to act around him now that you've pseudo-bossed him around to stop dancing and also to restrain yourself from checking him out.

felix was right, minho does have a strong effect on girls.

you glared at the empty fridge, it's blue light seemed to glare back in return in response as it wallowed in it's spacious state. there was no more food.

"are you adapting well?" at this point, you were so used to minho just appearing out of nowhere that you didn't even flinch anymore, it made sense that a good dancer such as him would have light steps.

"yes, thank you for asking," you answered casually, sighing as you closed the door. you didn't know felix and minho's house rules when it came to stocking up on groceries but you would bet that minho wouldn't bother going out to get you some food so you'd have to fetch some yourself.

you were just about to ask minho if there's anything he'd want you to get but in true minho fashion, he had already gone back to his room.

because your grocery runs don't really take long (and you only needed to stock up until the remaining days of your stay in felix's place), you opted to just walk to the nearest convenience store.

first of, the limited options already made you regret your decision now that you see your basket full of instant noodles. out of courtesy, you decided to get healthier options for your temporary roommate, or at least some snacks that you knew he enjoyed (felix finally sent a list, thank god).

and second of all, the rain started pouring heavily during the duration of your short shopping stay. you were never really a weather forecast type of gal but you swore that the sun was beating down just a few seconds ago.

"do you sell umbrellas?" you asked hopefully, though you were sure that there weren't any since you couldn't find one.

"just ran out, sorry." the cashier confirmed and you all but cringed in your bones.

you huffed, hugging your bag of goodies as you willed yourself to step outside. you debated just making a run for it but the store bag was paper, not plastic, and you didn't want to risk having your dinner rolling off onto the concrete roads.

"there you are," minho huffed and you felt a sense of deja vu as you saw him running towards you with an umbrella on hand, the same feeling of helplessness that you were drowning in when he found you on the staircase during your first day as roommates.

once again, he had saved you in a pinch.

"i saw you didn't bring an umbrella."

you tilted your head in question, "how'd you know i'd be here?"

"felix."

you just ahhh'd in understanding as he helped you with your stuff, pulling you closer towards him so you wouldn't get wet under the shared umbrella.

"thanks for helping me again."

"felix told me to."

no he didn't. he 100% didn't.

your cheeks heated as you eyed the man's side profile. his face was perfection, and it didn't help your cause that he was so effortlessly chivalrous too.

it made you wonder how true his infamous reputation is. maybe it's because of the jealousy that he sparks from those behind him.

or maybe he's just trying to get in your pants.

you heard lia's voice bug your mind but you immediately shook away the thought. you didn't want to question his motives especially when he's been nothing but kind and understanding to you this whole time.

even going out of his way to walk ten minutes just to get you an umbrella even when he had no obligation to do so.

"ah, electricity's out." with your mind in the clouds, you didn't even notice that you'd already gone home. "sit down, i'll make some tea or else we might get sick."

you just nodded as you let him take the remaining groceries from your hands, your feet dragging you to the couch as you watch him work around the kitchen, heating some water whilst he put away the food.

"are these for me?" he saw the packs of snacks inside the paper bag, shooting you a questioning glance.

you swallowed shyly before nodding, "mm, felix told me you like those."

you saw the slight tinge of pink blooming in his cheeks as looked away, nodding back, "i do, thanks."

the atmosphere is simply just... divine. two souls chilling on the couch staring at the nothingness of the tv's black screen, cups of tea warming your hands as the coldness of the storm knock on the windows. you blew the steam off your cup, letting the warmth envelop your face.

you thanked minho for the tea once again, "why are you so nice?" your mouth slipped, and you almost regretted the question right away.

"what do you mean?" he shot you a questioning look.

"nothing, nevermind."

he inched closer towards you, nudging you with a pillow, "now you got me curious, tell me."

"i just didn't expect you to be so nice. meeting me on the staircase to help with my luggage, running to the convenience store with an umbrella—"

"—because felix—"

"—didn't tell you to do any of that." you cut him off, you see him avert his gaze away from you but bring it back again, trying to keep his composure as you continued. "but you've been a very great roommate."

"you too." he smiled and there you wished he'd do it more often, "i like having you more than felix."

a serene quiet settled between the both of you as you calmed from laughter, your eyes darting back towards him again, "you're not just trying to get into my pants, are you?"

you meant the question lightheartedly, but was half-meant. though now you wish you didn't say it at all as you see a cold gaze settle on minho's eyes.

"is that what you think of me?"

you tried to shake your head or offer some sort of no, but at that moment, all your head could think of were the words lia had said to you during your first stay. all the rumours that surrounded the man in front of you.

you were rendered speechless, but what made your throat dry was seeing the way minho tried to mask the flash of hurt in his face as he clicked his tongue.

you cleared your throat, trying to salvage the situation, "it's not that— it's just... what people are saying."

"and you believe them?"

this time you shook your head no (even though you don't know what to think at this point). "at first, but now that i see how you really are, then... no."

"what have you even heard of about me?"

you detailed all the things lia had told you. from the girls, to the partying, to the motorcycle, not sparing a single sentence aside from the detail of who you got the rumours from. all throughout, minho just listened, trying not to let his irritation get the best of him when he thought that he finally found someone who didn't saw him for what his reputation painted him as.

"first of all, i've never slept with anyone from a party— especially not someone who'd be so visibly drunk. those girls- nayeon, chaeyoung, momo... they're all my friends. i make sure to take them home safely because i never drink. i'm a designated driver." he pointed, "second, any normal college kid parties."

you see him sip the remains of his tea, harshly placing the empty cup into the coffee table before standing up and giving you a stoney glare "lastly, driving a motorcycle doesn't mean jack shit."

you tried to follow him as he stomped back to his room but you were too afraid to actually catch up to him, "wait minho— i'm sorry!"

you apologized but he had already shut the door as guilt and shame spread all throughout your body. you felt like tearing up at how you so easily destroyed the rapport you've built with him.

you wanted to knock but you were sure as hell that minho will just ignore you— or worse, become more irritated.

you sighed, willing yourself to bed as you figured you’d let him cool down before attempting anything—

[oh, what's this? what's next? well, i never finished it, and nor will you. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. lovelots, staysuki.]

[honeymilkk00]

Haikyuu Boys: You Flinch

Pt 2

@silver-argent​ :  Hii! I super looooove the way you wrote Haikyuu Boys: You flinch, perfect amount of angst to fluff! Are you taking requests? If you are, will you please do a Sakusa and Kenma? the you flinch. It's okay if you don't tho! I'll still look forward to your works!❤❤

tysm for the encouraging words!! my requests are open and im more than happy to do Sakusa and Kenma jewbjkew. i hope you enjoy. i'm literally so tired and just wanted to finally get this out <3

characters:

-sakusa

-kenma

___________________________

Sakusa

Dating Sakusa was the last thing you ever thought would happen to you. He filled your days and nights with such love and passion. You had broken through his stoic and cold shell and had seen him for who he truly was deep inside- a loving partner through and through.

Of course, old habits die hard. Since he had spent years of his life being a reserved person, only putting up with his family and teammates, he still was very hesitant when it came to affection. Sometimes all he wanted to do was to be alone with his thoughts and nothing else. It hurt to see him like that, knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t help him, but you understood and gave him the time he needed.

Five months into yours and his relationship had lead to a few disputes, but nothing too serious. He was a prideful, headstrong man which lead to you having to bite your tongue during arguments and keep your snarky words to yourself, refusing to let them slip off the tip of your tongue. If they did, the argument would escalate. 

You loved Sakusa for everything he was, bad parts and good, but sometimes he was too much. 

And, that’s how you were here, biting your lip harshly as you stare at him, refusing to let your anger get the best of you. 

Sakusa had been coming home quite late due to volleyball practise, but it got to the stage where you were scared that he was doing to overwork himself and injure himself. Instead of letting it slide, you confronted him about it and suggested that he should take some time to let his body heal from the strenuous training regimen that he was doing. It seemed that Sakusa wasn’t in the best of moods and had snapped at you, shooting abhorrent words towards you as if you were nothing but a pile of shit, accusing you of restricting him from reaching his full potential and trying to turn him away from volleyball because you were too clingy for his liking. 

“Fucking hell (Y/N), you’re so fucking clingy! Just because you’re an attention whore and want me to worship you doesn’t mean you can try and take me away from what I love doing. You’re so fucking obsessive it’s driving me crazy!” Sakusa bellowed and clenched his hands together, his nails digging into his hands. 

Taking a deep breath to keep yourself as calm as possible, you spoke in a soft tone, “Omi, I’m not trying to keep you from anything. I just think you should rest your body before you overwork yourself and become ill or injure yourself. I know you want to improve but that can happen gradually over time. I doesn’t need to happen all at once.” You murmured and gently placed a hand on his, trying to reassure him.

Letting out a deep, angered growl, Sakusa pulled away from your grip harshly and pushed your hand away, “don’t fucking touch me! You’re fucking disgusting! All you do is hold me down and try and control my life, you obsessive pest!” He hollered out.

His words ripped open your chest and stabbed you in the heart repeatedly. You felt like you were choking on your own heartbeat. It hurt knowing that your lover found you disgusting. A strong feeling of rage surged through your veins. “How fucking dare you, Sakusa! I’ve done nothing but tried to help you and all you do is treat me like shit. Every time we argue I have to bite my tongue because I know that if I retaliate, you’ll just get even more angry. I can’t express how I feel to you anymore and I feel as if I don’t matter in this relationship. If you want to overwork yourself and injure yourself then fine, go ahead, but don’t blame me for saying I told you so after it’s happened!”

His eyes narrowing at your words, Sakusa swiftly turned to glare at you and raised his fist, poking your chest aggressively, “Fine, I will then because I’m not letting you control me anym-” He paused mid sentence, his eyes widening when he noticed you flinching when he raised his hand. Slowly, he lowered his hand and dropped them at his sides. Your shaking figure made his heart clench painfully tight. “(Y/N) I-”

“I can’t do this anymore, Sakusa.” You voice whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled quietly. “I can’t handle this pain anymore. I can’t handle feeling like I’m walking on egg shells with you. I can’t handle being afraid of how you’ll react when I speak about how I feel. I just can’t do this anymore.” You voice got quieter and quieter the more you spoke. Looking up at Sakusa, you swallowed thickly. “I can’t do us anymore.” 

Sakusa was frozen, watching you carefully. It was deathly silent. The only sound he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat beating rapidly. 

“I’ll pick up my things tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Atsumu’s for the night.” You whispered and turned away, heading towards the front door. 

A small, almost whine-like noise left Kiyoomi’s mouth. He reached out and clasped your hand gently, tears forming in the corner’s of his eyes. “Please.” He begged quietly.

Looking back at the man you loved, your heart shattered into small pieces when you noticed his dampened eyes. Never had you seen him cry before. “What is it?” You asked quietly, biting the inside of your cheek.

Sakusa pulled you in tightly for a hug and pressed his lips against your cheek gently. “Please don’t leave. Please please please… I’m so so sorry (Y/N).. I didn’t mean anything I said. I love you and I’m grateful for everything you do for me. I’ve just had a really bad day. Please I love you. Please don’t leave. You’re my baby... “ He pleaded softly and held you tightly, as if afraid that you’d disappear if he let go. 

Letting out a sigh, you caved in. You were still mad at him but at the end of the day, you loved Kiyoomi more than anything else. You would give up everything for his happiness. “Kiyoomi...” You whispered softly and then turned around so you were face to face with him. Gently cupping his cheeks, you sighed, “I love you so so much Kiyoomi... But you can’t say stuff like that to me even if you’ve had a bad day. You really really hurt me even though I was just trying to look out for you.” You explained and frowned softly, kissing his tears that resided in the corner of his eyes. 

Pressing his lips softly against your hands that rested on his face, he let out a shaky breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, “I know... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I promise I’ll do better..” He whispered gently and pressed his nose into your hair lovingly. “I love you so much...”

Leaning in closer to Sakusa, you inhaled his scent, “I love you too, Omi..”

He never wanted to see you flinch like that again.

________________________

Kenma

Kenma was an erudite genius when it came to the art of strategy. His deep understanding of the game and the unspoken pledge to win is what drove him forward and kept him reaching, grasping, clutching for new strategic idea that would leave his opponents breathless.

For days, maybe even weeks, on end, Kenma would be researching, training, and repeating the process until he felt confident in his methodology that would be used in a game. Thus, led to a breakdown. After weeks of undereating, lack of sleep, training beyond his physical capabilities, and his mental strain thinking of ways to defeat the opposing team, Kenma was at his wits’ end. 

As his partner, you immediately noticed the changes in his personality. Of course, concern was your initial reaction and you were somewhat frightened of irritating him more, but you knew you had to confront him about his lack of self care. Seeing him train during lunch and falling asleep in lessons led you to realise how hard he was working himself. 

So, after school you managed to pull him to one side before he proceeded to train at the club. A frown was present on your lips and you took a deep breath. Looking at him now hurt a lot: his eyebags had considerably increased since the last time you saw him; you could now see physically where he had lost weight from undereating for weeks; his eyes seemed a lot duller; his body slouched over slightly, as if it was begging for a break. It was agony to see your partner slowly harm his body and mind like this.

"Kenma, just know I love you so much and I understand that volleyball means a lot to you right now since it's your final year with your team as you know it with Kuroo as captain, but look at yourself. You're not taking care of yourself at all. You aren't helping you or your teammates by undereating and not sleeeping." You murmured gently, taking Kenma's hands in your own. You knew that you had to be careful and not push your boyfriend, but you couldn't let it continue.

Kenma simply frowned at your words and pulled his hand away from yours, "(Y/N), I don't need your lecturing. I'm perfectly fine taking care of myself. I don't need you." He hissed out and turned his back on you, proceeding to head to practise. He had no time to waste on pointless conversations.

(Y/N) grinded their teeth together, their heart aching slightly at the harsh words, "I'm not lecturing you, Kenma! I'm doing what a s/o should do and I'm looking out for you! Please just take a small break before you overdo it!" You hallooed, as if that would make the words sink in.

Vexed, Kenma turned around with a deep scowl on his face, "Why don't you just back off, (Y/N)!? I don't care about you right now, all I care about is me and my teammates winning this game!" He shrieked, which caused you to trip back and swallow thickly.

A small whimper escape your lips and tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you flinched. You were normally fine with Kenma's salty attitude, but he never usually shouted at you. Taking a shaky breath, you looked at your boyfriend dead in the eyes, "fine! Do what you want to do! Since you don't care about me I won't bother anymore! Don't you fucking dare come running to me when you overwork yourself and can't handle it anymore!" You retorted and turned away.

Kenma's eyes widened slightly at your words as he watched you turn away. "Wait...." He whispered out, his hand reaching towards yours. Lightly, he grasped your wrist and sighed, pulling you close and burying his head in your shoulder. "'M sorry... I'm just so stressed..." Tears brimmed his eyes and he sniffled softly. "I didn't mean it..."

Letting out a soft sigh, your shoulders relaxed and you pulled your lover in for a cuddle. "I know you didn't mean it baby... But remember your health comes first, volleyball after." You whispered and gently stroked his hair. He simply nodded in response and hugged you tighter.

Maybe you both could work things out. You just need to learn to communicate more.

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[djarrex]

Listen, clone wars era rex is the sweetest sub ever. Zero brat energy like others (coughwolffecough), he is absolutely there to please you and experience all the ways you make him feel loved. But it takes a bit for him to find out that he actually likes being a sub. With everything he is responsible for, I think he feels to bring that same energy to the bedroom - only problem is he isn’t very experienced. He’s not a virgin, but the most he's had are some quickies in the bathroom of 79s. So when you first get together, he feels he needs to be the one taking charge (even though he isn’t really sure what to do). It’s only after a particularly difficult mission when he is with you and he is at a loss of what to do. He knows he needs you, but he can’t focus. He just wants to stop thinking about how badly the mission went, how many brothers he lost. He just wants to get lost in you. That’s when you take over. You start showering him with love, kisses, words of praise, everything. You tell him all the things you’re going to do to him and he immediately falls for it. Relinquishing control is calming and a relief, something he never expected. He loves seeing you in power, seeing his smart and strong girl taking over, dishing out orders that Rex is all too ready to follow. As long as it means you’ll sit on his face, ride him, suck his dick, or just touch him, he’s all for it. Not to mention it lets him forget that he is a captain. In these moments, it’s just you and him.....Or I mean something like that. I dunno 😬

insp

VEE!!! 🆘️ "He brings a new meaning to 'good soldiers follow orders'" 😈😏 you rightttttt

Look, I'm all for dom Rex - I love to write it and I love to read it. That being said, I'm totally on board with the idea of having to show Rex exactly what he needs for him to feel good, to forget - especially after an extremely tough and emotionally/mentally/physically draining mission. Rex just wants - no, needs - someone else to take control every now and then, even if he doesn’t realize it at first.

SOOOO this kinda got away from me. literally could have wrote more but I have an assignment to work on (lmaooo). maybe I’ll do like a continuation of this later on? if that’s what the people want? 

some warnings include: face riding, sub!rex, no-no words, uhhh... 🥴

AS ALWAYS, 18+ only under the cut :’)

***

Rex stands at your doorway, his forehead glued to the arm that's propped up against the door frame, helmet loosely gripped by his other hand hanging down at his side. It hurts to see him like this - drained, both physically and mentally. Bags under his tired eyes. Dirt on his face and caked on all over his armor. Even though he was created for battle, it's doing a number on him with each and every one he makes it out of; he physically makes it out of each and every battle, but not mentally, and not emotionally. It's always there - the loss, the bloodshed, the need to take charge, and the responsibility to ensure his men's safety - lingering inside his head no matter where he is or what he's doing.

Including the times when what he's doing is you.

When you and Rex first got together he was unsure, a little on the inexperienced side, but he was rough. You didn't mind of course; you liked it rough, and it was never like he'd hurt you or would ever come near to hurting you. You thought that maybe the roughness was due to his sexual inexperience, that the only other times he’d have sex in the past were just that. You really didn’t think too much about it, especially not when he was in the middle of pounding you into another galaxy before making you cum all over his cock over and over again.

As time went on, you started to understand where the roughness within the intimacy was stemming from; everything that had happened on the actual battlefield before he'd come home - including the battlefield within his mind - was being channeled into the way he handled you. Even outside the warzone, safe within your arms, Rex feels he needs to maintain control - to take charge. You understood, and let him have his outlet - It's not like you weren't benefiting from it; Rex may not have had much to go on before fucking you for the first time, but after months and months of practice, he'd become a fucking god in the bedroom.

There were definitely softer moments when he'd be crowded over you, trailing messy kisses from your collarbone up to your lips, his hips gently thrusting into you while hitting oh so deep. When your lips would be just barely touching as you breathed in each other's moans. When you'd both maintain eye-contact while simultaneously unraveling. The more gentle, loving, and softer moments weren't ones that followed his return home from a long deployment, no - those were reserved for all the times in between. You'd fallen in love with each other, but refrained from mouthing those three words in fear that you'd both be punished from feeling such forbidden things for one another.

And so tonight, seeing the drained and defeated expression engrained in his handsome features and the way his body slumped forward as he entered your apartment after a long couple of weeks was a telltale sign that this would be one of those rough nights.

You wanted to try something new, though.

***

"I want to take care of you, Rex." 

He’d just got out of the ‘fresher, giving you some time to think while he was getting cleaned up. A towel loosely hangs around his hips, water droplets gliding down his toned muscles as he moves closer to where you’re sat at the foot of your bed.

"You will take care of me, cyare." He grins while rubbing his hands along your upper arms. You release a puff of air from your nostrils, focusing on a particular water droplet slowly descending from his collarbone and trailing down to where the material of the towel soaks it right up before tilting your head to meet his eyes. 

You shake your head with a smile, speaking softly as you rest your hand against his abdomen, "No, that's not what I mean." You’re met with an amused yet confused look and you continue, "I want you to just lay back, and let me handle things for once. Is that okay?" 

"I..." He trails off, clearly not sure what to say. You know he must’ve already had a plan on how the night would go, and that plan was probably supposed to take effect after he drops his towel. Now you’re met with the face of a man who is unsure of what to do now that the plans are about to change - he’s nervous. You keep that smile on your lips when you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, bringing the backs of his hands up to your lips and placing soft kisses on each one.

"You're safe with me, Rex. Safe here. You don't need to think about everything when you're here with me, okay? I just.... wanna try something."

***

Wow. What a fucking vision he is right now.

Rex, the esteemed Captain of the five-oh-first, completely bare and sprawled out on his back on top of your sheets, has his head craned to watch you strip at the foot of the bed. His cock is painfully hard, twitching ever so slightly with each of his eager heart beats as he struggles to watch you undress - teasingly slow.

"Look at you, Rex." You audibly marvel at man you love, knowing what the praise does to him - it's very evident in how his glistening chest rapidly rises and falls and in the twitching of fingers. "My handsome, brave Rex. So good for me, doing just as I say," you coo at him, making your way from the foot of the bed to the side where your naked body can be level with his head. He turns his face towards you, his pupils blown wide and brow furrowed. He needs this. You crouch down, moving to where your eyes are in line with his as you reach to caress his sharp cheekbone. "Does it feel good so far, Rex?" you whisper while running your thumb along his bottom lip. "Does it feel good to let someone else call the shots for once?"

"Y-yes," he strains, followed by a muffled groan when you sink your thumb into his hot mouth. His eyes search for approval and you nod to him with a sweet smile before he begins to gently suck at your thumb - his perfect lips closing a seal around the thickest digit as you move it in and out slowly.

"First," you pull your thumb from his lips before standing up, "I'm gonna ride that pretty face of yours. If you're good and keep your hands to yourself I might sit on your gorgeous cock and ride you until I tell you to cum. How does that sound?" You punctuate your plans by closing your lips around the same thumb that was just in Rex's mouth, giving a couple sucks while staring right into his eyes before popping it out and tracing his abs with the soaked digit. The groan of approval that spills from Rex's lips goes straight to your cunt.

Wasting no more time, you climb on the bed and throw one leg on the other side on his face. Gripping the headboard for balance, you begin to sink down against him and are instantly met with his expert tongue, licking through your folds before you’re all the way sat. Fuck. He always was the best with his tongue, but this time, you’re the one in control. Crouched and straddled over his face, you begin to gently move your hips back and forth against the wet muscle, letting your already soaked cunt slide against his perfect face. You have never done something like this before, and oh fucking boy is it exhilarating. 

It isn’t very long before you start to feel the blossom of heat within your core, the intense shockwaves that trickle through your body making you quiver against his face. You wanted this whole thing to be about Rex, but there’s no stopping the orgasm that shatters its way through you, making you cry out and smack a palm against the headboard. Rex’s tongue works in double-time, gliding back and forth to collect your release and stopping to flick at your clit in between deep groans. You feel him hum - deep and dark - beneath you, the vibrations making you nearly fall forward from the intensity. 

“R-rex,” you pant, peering down to look at his dark honey eyes as they meet yours while his tongue continues its assault. You lower a hand to tap at his head, and his tongue disappears back into his mouth. When you lift off his face, you inch yourself downwards, placing kisses on every spot of skin your mouth can reach as you make your way to his thighs. He’s trembling, fighting to keep his hands at his sides but he does so like a good boy - and you tell him just that.

You let out a blissed-out sigh, now straddling his thighs while your palms rest against his chest. “You did so good for me, Rex. Fuck, you look so pretty with all of me on your handsome face.” He doesn’t say a word, just stares at you with pleading eyes, lips glistening and parted. His cock twitches in front of you - swollen and desperate.  

You lean forward to meet his face, your lips just barely touching his as you whisper into his agape mouth, “You want me to fuck you, Rex?” punctuated by a nibble to his bottom lip. His only response is a throaty moan before you lean back to watch him, your fingers tracing invisible patterns along the dark skin of his thighs. You raise a brow at him, signaling your need for a verbal answer to which he visibly gulps, eyes clamping shut as he nods before choking out:

“P-please fuck me, cyare.”

***

edit: I’m literally so sorry that I keep forgetting to tag my Clone Bois peeps in things like this :(((

@deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @bvcketfvcker

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

I don't know if this counts as a comfort request, can you do a Chuuya and Dazai comfort request of them comforting/saving the reader from a abusive parent?

Yes, this is, of course, a comfort request, if it helps you feel better, than it counts. I’m sorry if this doesn't live up to expectations though, abuse is one of the few things I struggle with writing for personal reasons (don’t worry, it’s nothing physical, just a lot of mental strain loves), so it won’t be detailed or thoroughly explained, more hinted/briefly mentioned. Since the request was vague, I was unsure what kind you needed, so I went with what I’m more comfortable writing. With that out of the way, here are 2 small drabbles.

Saved from an abusive household (comfort fic) |Dazai, Chuuya x Reader|

Warning: Emotional and (maybe some hints to physical) abuse

Words- 1141 (combining both characters totals).

Dazai-

590 words

To say he was angry was an understatement. He never understood why his emotions were so, so uncontrolled when it came to you. He was hardly in terms that he may actually love you. With the wind blowing over your face, whipping through your hair, he couldn’t help it. Noticing every mark, the tears, everything. He noticed it despite how you acted like everything was fine. The hoarseness of your tone was too great a signal that, well, you had been crying longer than he had been standing here. Dazai wanted to know, no, he needed to know who had made you so upset. He felt, odd as it may sound, protective. He would never strike out against you or raise his voice. He’d never hurt you, not in any way. So the flinch you made when all he wanted was to cup your face, to whisper that he loved you, it hurt. He couldn’t keep his face from showing the shock. His eyes darting around for any other signs. Clearly, he’d noticed before, but you always rode it off.

Standing within the brutal rain, you watched Dazai with a clouded mind. There are… many ways that often go unnoticed to the public. While cuts are difficult to hide, the scars on the mind… are impossible to see. What is not shown on the surface is never seen. Anxiety, depression, social awkwardness, the flinch brought on by a loud noise or voice, the shaky trembles of hands when being scolded. Signs that go unnoticed, so as Dazai looked at you with eyes full of anger and pain, he waited until you flew to his chest and broke down. His hands never once left your back. His voice a mere whisper as he ran fingers and told you the best news of your life. “You can live with me. It isn’t much, but its, it’s better than going back there.” His voice held so much anger, disgust, and pain you thought he may drop you in bed, then run to kill the two who told you over and over how much they loved you, only to contradict themselves. 

He did something along the lines of that. When you were asleep in an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants far too long for your legs, he sipped from the agency-provided room, and well, he went straight to the place he knew you lived. It happened to be on your file in the agency. He didn’t bother knocking, but instead picked the front door lock with skilled ease, and underneath the clap of thunder and flash of white light, he slid inside. Dragging water into the room where two older adults lay. As if they didn't notice their child's absence. So pulling out his gun, he shot at a perfect angle. A direct middle between heads. He watched them scramble awake, only to see he was already gone within shadows. He played the part of a demon for you tonight. Raising their paranoia as far as he could, before appearing with a dramatic flash of lighting having calculated the right timing. He warns them if they ever tried to make themselves the victims, or if they set a pinky on your skin, he’d make their lives a living hell. After all, he was once Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy, the youngest mafia executive. It wasn't a title he liked anymore, but he would admit returning to such a mentality for a bit would be alright, if it meant protecting you from pain.

Chuuya-

551 words

Beneath the rays of moonlight showering through a ginger held you tightly in his arms. Tonight he played the part of the big spoon, cuddling you close to keep you safe. It was always like this in storms. His arms wrapped around you, running down your arms. His lips on top of your in passionate breaks here and there. The two shared wine and laughed away the storm. Every time you jumped, he dropped to kiss your shoulders and between your neck. He kept trying to comfort you with all he could. He never felt it was enough. Especially after the ones that were within seconds of another. The louder the tremble, the more you shook, so when four or five repeated in a row he worried. Sure, it was normal to be scared of storms, but you were scared of the noise in general. It was an issue he had hated because, well, we all know Chuuya likes to yell a lot. He never realized till he was actually angry with a coworker, the flinch you make is an expectation, like your bracing for something. That’s how he found out. The next morning, how you claimed to be too sick to go home. The way you wanted to stay with him on your week off. How you'd rather just keep working.

“I’ll kill them.” It wasn’t anger directed at you, and he kept his tone soft, despite how difficult it was. Behind his clenched teeth, dagger-like glare, and the snarl, he was positive he’d frightened you accidentally. “Let me kill ‘em.” He grumbled, shoving his gloves into pockets as he tried to reel in his temper. He doesn't give two shits if they are your parents. So telling him no is frustrating. Clearly, if they did this, if they could be cruel enough to make their child afraid, then they didn’t deserve somebody so forgiving and kind like you.

He let you stay the day with him. There was no way he’d make you go home. Not when he’d seen how terrified you were when he tried pushing you out the door. He’d cuddled and spoiled you rotten with gifts all day. And when you finally crashed, his lips tapped your forehead, and he was gone. Searching through records till he found the address. He was straight to the point, breaking a window with a nice kick. His feet heavy with gravity as he grabbed the collars of those two blind bastards. Yes, he knew he could make it worse. However, that would only happen if they were not afraid of him. An overprotective guard dog. Trust me, this is one loyal bastard you never want to cross. He couldn’t kill them, but he could hurt them. He could yell at the top of his lungs and shout in their ears. Send them in walls, maybe break a finger, or two. On his way out, when the couple stood shaking with fear, his head tilted back just enough to see the scene he’d made. “Hurt them again, and I won’t listen. You’re really lucky, my baby has a golden heart that forgives so easily." He half-expected them to call the cops, but he guessed that meant angering the mafia more. What could he say, he was a pretty well-known man.

Tags (if you wish to be added send an ask) : @jadegreenimmortality