#he is and has been willing to let himself come apart before he fails to complete a job

[togetherness23]

“edward is a boring character” that’s your loss bc i think he’s the most intriguing character ever

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[sturnsbae]

SLEEPY - WILL SMITH

summary: will comes home from work to a very sleepy y/n passed out on the couch

—

within the last few days, your fatigue has been severe. you’ve fallen asleep hours before you usually do, and getting up in the mornings has become increasingly more challenging. this is a telltale sign that you’re getting sick.

will, your boyfriend of two years, has a game against calgary tonight. unfortunately, you’re far too ill to actually attend the game. of course, it broke your heart to tell your boyfriend that you wouldn’t be able to make it, but he was more than okay with you getting your rest rather than watching him chase a rubber puck for three hours.

you’re currently sat on the couch of your guys’ shared apartment while the game illuminates the dimly lit room. your eyelids become heavier as every line change occurs, but it eventually becomes too unbearable to fight. as you fall asleep, you’re cuddled into the fluffy blanket, along with being swallowed by wills boston college hoodie. you’re so knocked out, that you end up missing macklins goal during the second period, followed by everything else that happened after it.

will opens the door expecting you to be wide awake, but quickly slows his movements when he sees you sprawled out on the couch engulfed in his hoodie and a blanket. he chuckles to himself softly as he puts his hockey bag down by the door, careful not to wake you. he walks over to the couch and sits down next to you, gently moving hair out of your face.

“baby?” he quietly asks.

you stir awake and rub your eyes softly, stretching your limbs with a loud groan as you sit up. “oh, will? what time is it? i thought you should be-“ you quickly come to the realization that you had fallen asleep. “oh,” you say.

will chuckles with a grin, “yeah, you fell asleep.”

“i’m so sorry…” you mutter, fixing your hair and adjusting his hoodie.

“you’re sorry? what are you apologizing for, y/n?” will asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“missing your game. i feel awful! it’s enough that i didn’t even physically go, and then i still end up missing the entire thing!”

“y/n, please don’t apologize. honestly, you missed nothing. it was an embarrassing loss anyways.” will says, and you can hear the pain in his voice.

“oh baby i’m so sorry.” you sigh, wrapping him in a hug. he chuckles, the vibration of his laughter against your body makes you smile. despite being half asleep, he still never fails to make you happy.

“are you feeling any better?” your concerned boyfriend asks.

“i’m just still tired, i’m sure i’ll wake up sick tomorrow” you laugh, which makes him pout.

“y/n, you should really get to bed baby…” he says, making you sigh. you know he’s right, but you also wanna stay up and talk to him… but he knows you too well and immediately stops this thought. “y/n, we can talk in bed. cmon, i’ll carry you.”

he swoops you up bridal style, letting the blanket fall beneath his feet as he walks you to the bedroom. he gently places you down on the bed and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. “i’m gonna shower really quickly, but don’t stay up. go to bed, it’s okay.” you nod, but you both know you’re gonna force yourself to stay awake until he comes back. and that’s exactly what you do.

will exits the bathroom about ten minutes later and shuts off the light, crawling into bed with you. you immediately snuggle into him as his arm wraps around you, the smell of his body wash filling your senses. “how badly did you guys lose?” you ask softly.

“3-1, mack got the only goal” he replies. you smile at the thought that will and mack must’ve been so happy about it.

“tell him i say congrats, but maybe leave out the part where i fell asleep,” you joke, making will laugh. you two talk for another 5 minutes or so before you drift off into sleep again, leaving will with a smile on his face and a sleepy girlfriend on his arm.

[n0tamused]

hello, can I get prompt action no. 14 Fem reader x Anaxa, phainon and sunday (separate)

˖ ࣪⊹First kiss

Prompt: 14. First kiss

Words: 404 (Anaxa), 486(Phainon), 560(Sunday)

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

˖ ࣪⊹Anaxa

The tender caresses of his hand brushing back the stray hairs that covered your face, silently asking you to look at him, something so genuine held in his gaze made words stop in your throat. Conversation had been going well by that point, consisting of more mundane things in life, until Anaxa thought it a good time to compare you to the blooming gardens beyond the window you were both staring out of. It was sudden, yet not unwelcome. 

“You sure do know how to surprise a person” Your comment was met with a small roll of his eye and a slack shrug of his shoulders. “Surel you do not take it as an offense? The other day you did say how you misliked my lack of..direct displays of affection” he rebutted as he took his hand slowly away, making you wish he had lingered instead.

“Offense? No. Not at all, in fact you should do it more often - as I also said the other day” you smiled at him, a cheeky smile as you felt your cheeks glow with warmth. His gaze went from the gardens and back to you, watching how the sun bathed you in a warm glow of a kiss. 

The wind sighed and stirred your hair again, and instinctively he was already reaching out to brush the stubborn hair aside, and he would have done so if you had not caught his wrist and tugged him closer. Surprised, his hand flexed in your hold, but feeling your warmth right there.. it soothed him and cast his gaze to other parts of your face. Your lips were a breath way from his, and your lashes fluttered as your eyes looked suddenly unsure of your own actions, looking at him for some sign of approval or denial. 

Suddenly he let out a huff of a chuckle. “You should work a bit more on your element of surprise” he said before capturing your lips with his own. Your breath lodged itself in your throat and suddenly the thought of the sun and the gardens was so far away. His hand slipped your grasp and cupped your cheek. The pull apart was inevitable, but no less unwanted. Anaxa’s eye held the same sentiment, the want - but before he could lean in for more or before the moment got lost you chimed in: “Should I take notes from you?”

Anaxa scoffed. 

˖ ࣪⊹Phainon

Okhema was seldom cold, Kephale’s love for their creations had made it so that winters were scarcely a thing anyone knew, even the night was a stranger. All of that made the sudden chill on the breeze a thing to  flee inside from, and you so expertly sought out the warm, walking heater of your lover - Phainon.

You had found him seated on the edge of the bed, busying himself with a needle and thread as another tear just ‘appeared’ in his white coat. Seeing you coming towards him, he was quick to discord the needlework and open his arms to you, chuckling as you all but launched yourself into his lap. Needle and thread still remained as something he did not relish in partaking, swiftly forgetting about it. 

“Have you finally decided to show me some affection or has the cold wind chased you back to me?” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace as you settled down.

You sigh dramatically, your body going slack for him to hold and keep upright in his lap. “I am only here to steal your warmth, I hate these cold days. Okhema is not a place where winter should be known”. Phainon shook his head as he cupped the back of your head and brought your face down so he could look at you.

“Your honesty has bought you favour. I wouldn’t otherwise be willing to share my precious warmth so easily” Although he attempted to look serious, he failed in the face of your smug look. Who is he kidding - if you hadn’t come to him yourself, he would have sought you out in worry sooner or later. 

But his feelings felt ignited like a flame in that moment, even more so as you cuddled up to him. And not even half an hour later he found himself back on the bed, lying intertwined with you. You were dozing in and out, too warm to give a single care for the troubles of the world. His warm palm rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles while he simply lay there - admiring you. 

Your eyes opened slowly to look at him, finding him in such a deep state of admiration that it immediately sent butterflies to your belly. “Take a picture.. it will last longer…” you managed to whisper through the thick veil of sleep that made your eyelids heavy. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, giving him a comforting rub every now and then.

His breath suddenly seemed to close, and his lips found your nose and then your cheek. And when he drew closer to your lips all you had to do was to tilt your head upward for him to press a kiss there, this one lingering. Your heart fluttered, but comfort surged through you, and after he pulled apart you found yourself thinking - the room was too hot. 

˖ ࣪⊹Sunday

Sunday has always been gentle and careful with you, as if you were porcelain and he the threatening hammer. Soft spoken and kind, that’s how you came to know him. Not as the person he was. He closed that chapter a long time ago. 

How you found yourself in your current predicament remained a meaningless mystery, seated so close to him and helping him preen his feathers. Loose feathers and stubborn ones took time to find, and care to pluck. Even he, who has done it a dozen times over, was finding it tiresome and time-consuming. He appreciated your help all the more for it.

“Here..” he said as he handed you a feather. Upon your request, he agreed to hand you all the feathers he had no use of. It was the biggest sign of his love as well - to give you a part of him. And you planned to use those feathers, for crafts or memory, he did not care for what, but he did care for the fact they were useful to you. 

“Thank you” you muttered as you plucked the feather from between his fingers and set it inside a box. You were now working on the left wing on his head, ones he found even more troublesome to tend to as even a mirror made it hard to finish the task. He was not idly sitting there, answering whatever question you had.

“Ah-!” Sunday winced as you accidentally pulled on the wrong feather, sending a jolt of pain right through him. 

“Oh- I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry!” you rushed to rub the spot where the feather held its root, hoping to soothe the ache the yank undoubtedly left behind. “I grabbed the wrong one..” you laughed nervously, going pale with horror that you caused him pain.  Sunday was more collected, although his face was still slightly twisted. He held no ire or displeasure with you for doing so. 

“It is alright. Such mistakes happen even to me, do not worry” he told you in hopes to ease your evident worry. He was rather surprised when you decided to plant a kiss to his wing, further testament of your regret.

“It won’t happen again.. I’m really sorry. These feathers here are so fine and so many” you told him with a sigh. But once more Sunday shook his head. This time he chuckled too with how you fretted over him. 

“It is quite alright. You don’t believe the pain will kill me, do you? You can continue if there are any more loose feather around” 

You returned to his wings after a moment of consideration, his smile giving you some more wind to your sails. You plucked the last feather and put it away in the box before turning to him. Your hand cupped his cheek and you brought him closer, bringing on shock to his features as you kissed his cheek 

Truth be told, he had expected another form of a kiss, but he uttered no word of complaint. His cheeks dusted with the faintest form of blush. As you pulled back slightly, he covered his mouth with his hand and cleared his throat, but as he looked at you he got lost for words again, seeing the emotion held within your gaze. His hand fell from his mouth, and your lips fell upon his. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[gremlingottoosilly]

The art of hospitality (Nanami Kento x fem!Reader)

Life wasn't that good after you dropped out of college. Luckily, a friend of a friend of a relative was willing to take you to live with him so you could watch over his weirdly big house while he was away on endless work trips. Nanami never thought that investment in the kindness of his heart would pay out like this. He is not complaining.

Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink AO3

Some people are just not built to fend for themselves. Nanami can name a few, even though the sentiment leaves a bitter, bun-haired taste in his mouth. He shouldn’t think like this – like him – but it’s as impossible as not thinking about a panda bear after you just been prompted with hot imagining one. 

He can only repeat that he isn’t like this. It isn’t like him. Some people are just not built to fend for themselves, so people like Nanami are doing everything in their power to protect them. Weak are ruling the society and this is exactly how it is supposed to be. Strong should be content with not having any gratitude, happy that they were able to help. This is exactly how it’s supposed to be, and yet… — Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Nanami-san. With the lease and everything coming up, I just… His cheeks aren’t dusted red because this won’t be a normal answer to the situation. He isn’t blushing because he is somewhat not used to receiving a little thank you from a nice girl next door that he allowed to live with him and watch over the house while he is away on the missions(dumb, dumb girl got kicked out of the apartment after a failed lease renewal and found him through a friend of a relative). He knows how grateful you are – not having many things or a lot of money saved, you probably would have moved back to the countryside if it weren’t for him. For a girl like you, it would be kissing your dreams goodbye. Not like sleeping on his couch is any better for someone your age. There is curry on the kitchen island. He recognises the packaging – generic brand from the convenience store he sometimes walked passed during missions in Asakusa. Hm. Last time he touched your cooking(four days before, when he actually managed to drag himself to the house without losing too much sweat) it was made from scratch. He isn’t complaining because he still wasn’t the one to cook it. Asking a girl in dire circumstances to play housewife would be… You don’t pay rent, you get half of the groceries from him(ever-lasting meal planning for everything, even when half of it gets thrown away after a nasty curse hunt is leaves him on the other side of the prefecture for few days in the row) and you don’t sleep on the couch. He has a perfectly comfortable guest bedroom with fresh sheets for you. 

Maybe, you could play housewife a little bit. It’s so stupid for someone in his position, but the packaging of a store-made curry almost made him question the decision to help you in the first place. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to cook for him, of course. He only took you in because being a young adult is tough and not having any friends in a city as expensive as Tokyo can crush a girl like you. He doesn’t know what is this feeling blooming in his chest. Maybe, the remains of the last exorcism are still clinging to him. — You found a job? You tilt your head, your (adorable) lips in a surprised impression. You probably never thought he’d give someone like you this much of his mind – not with how little you talked before. He might come off as too harsh – but he still looks you in the eyes, his gaze only softens because of the glasses he still insists on wearing even inside the house. Nanami promised to himself to not bring work home – but it’s hard to even determine what is home anymore. Maybe it’s a space on the couch, right next to your sprawled legs. Maybe it’s his bedroom. Maybe it’s… — Yes! It’s a convenience store, so it’s part-time, but… He frowns. You close your mouth immediately, lips pursed. Nanami doesn’t want to intimidate you – it’s just six thirty, already too late to be in a serious work mood – but it’s hard when you look simply divine with that scared impression of yours. He shouldn’t bully non-sorcerers, but some people are making it hard. Impossible. He almost understands Satoru. — This is all? — Well, they allowed me to pick more shifts, so I could actually start paying rent. N…not all, but just to thank you for letting me stay with you. You’re kind, he must give you that. Most people in your situation would already make him feel like overstaying their welcome, breaking the simple comfort he found in living on his own, and deflecting his family’s worries about not having anyone to settle down with. He isn’t thirty yet, he shouldn’t worry about it – yet, the thought itches at the back of his mind, Empty house. Most of his older coworkers were itching to ditch overtime because they wanted to meet with their families. He did it because after fighting curses(and returning to doing so) normal human life isn’t something he’d give much thought to.

— You don’t have to pay. I thought we established that. — I have to start somewhere, right? M…maybe I could save up and get a proper apartment. Still, Kento doesn’t like the idea that he might come home one day and won’t find you sitting on the couch and watching TV. Not because you just went out for a quick girl walk, or decided to go shopping – but because you got a big job, a normal job, and you won’t rely on his kindness anymore. 

Some people aren’t made to fend for themselves. Nanami wonders what would you look like if you ever saw a curse. If you were affected by at least one. He…he shouldn’t think like this. You’re lucky that you’re normal. — Paying for three months' rent, the key, and the debt would be impossible with a part-time store job. — I could live with a roommate! Or three… — What difference would it make for our current situation? He puts a hand on the back of the couch. Mere inches from your head – and he can see the surprised expression on your face only getting…more surprised. You are cute for a dropout – ahe he certainly doesn’t mind having you sleeping here. Taking care of the house for him. If he only knew that you also weren’t fully against the proper commitment to this place. Like that little job of yours has any value in terms of experience and…

— I don’t want to intrude too much, Nanami-san. I’ll just get out of your hair as soon as possible, yeah? He would love for you to get into his hair, come to think about it. He had some terrible headaches lately – maybe it’s the job taking its toll again, maybe it’s a lingering curse that he is too exhausted to notice. He doesn’t sense anything besides the overwhelming need for you to come around – and yet he knows he can’t expect you to do that. — I can pay you. 

— What? He wonders if the surprise on your face is going to be embedded in your features forever. He wonders what expression would you have if he’d proposed something more provocative. With something that would leave you panting and gasping and gaping. He shook his head. Too early for this – and too late, also. He already loosened his tie and it made the headache less permanent, but if he’d proceeded to imagine how your pathetic, useless (normal, college dropout) mouth wide around the base of his cock, he would have to excuse himself from the house altogether, Preferably moving back to the countryside you tried to run away from. — If you insist on working…there instead of taking time to actually improve yourself, I could pay you to watch over the house. You gulp, tensing up immediately. He must have come off too strong – but he is way too tired to control his tone, and you should be mature enough to handle the conversations like this. He wasn’t kicking you off – quite the contrary, in fact. But, young adults should take the time to be young. But, young adults should be serious enough to behave like adults – and you shouldn’t bury your ambitions while living with four roommates and their boyfriends and college and drinking and… Sometimes he forgets how not much older he is than you. Maybe this is why you’re so hesitant towards getting help from him – someone that you could imagine in the position of a boyfriend instead of a providing and caring figure. That’s bad, really. Nanami would like for you to see him as your husband. — I couldn’t accept it, Nanami-san. You’re already…already doing so much. “Too much” he can get from your frowned expression. Too much of a lonely man with a big house and no one to watch over it. Too much for a man who doesn’t acept any form of payment from you – a man who didn’t even insist on having you cook and clean, since he got a system that would be too much bother to teach someone other than him. System that you cracked in first few weeks, almost making him believe that the salryman dream he lost after returning to Jujutsu Tech, can be still obtained. Still within the reach of his fingers. 

The woman of his dreams – if a man like him allowed to have them – is sitting on his couch and gushes over paying him for letting her stay. Like he isn’t the one who should beg for her to not run away. Alas, even dream girls can be a bit…dumb. Stupid. Pathetic in a way that would be insane to anyone else. 

Nanami is ought to be a bit more firm with his dumb girl that still thinks she isn’t his. — I would appreciate you cooking way more than any money I’d have to take out of your savings. — But… — You shouldn’t rush into jobs just because you think I would throw you out. I won’t. — It’s…funny. In a way. 

— What is so funny? His hand creeps over the edge of your seat, edging on taking a handful of your hair and tugging. Not because he wanted to hurt you – but because setting you in place would be the desirable option right now. Your inability to believe in the kindness of his heart is almost adorable, if it weren’t also so frustrating. It’s a smart choice, although – would be insane to ask you to believe that a man who took you in did so out of the kindness of his heart. But, Kento doesn’t want for you to be smart and make choices that would benefit you. But, Kento wants for you to rely on him – and making smart choices isn’t going to include that. He could just force you, your weak points already accessed – he knows where to push, where to cut, where to ass a little pressure, so you’d stop being so stubborn. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to crack a few eggs in the process. Sometimes being good doesn’t mean being nice. — I thought you really wanted to get rid of me at first, Nanami-san. He has been stealing your panties since you first stepped foot into his house. It was a mistake at first – neither you nor him knew how to live with someone so close after reaching adulthood and moving out of dorms where the social boundaries are much, much less permanent. You were silly and forgetful, sometimes mixing your laundry with his. Something as small as a pair of panties, no matter clean or not, were prone to get lost in the laundry area, forgotten in a pile of clothes you already washed – and if Nanami was a lesser man, he would have scolded you for not having the basic courtesy of keeping your things away from his. If Nanami was a bigger man he wouldn’t have slipped a lacey pair into a pocket of his pants, fidgeting on the fabric while you gushed over having to buy so many necessities all of a sudden, or apologized for wrecking havoc in his bathroom. Even now, when you’re embarrassed and warm, trying to explain your point of view to him, he is still playing with your underwear, buried deep within the pocket of his work clothes. He luckily didn’t run into Satoru today – he doesn’t really want to know if his Six Eyes could detect something as scandalous. Not in a normal sense, of course – you’re an adult, if a bit irresponsible – but in the form of him having connections. Someone to return to. 

Nanami wants to push you on your knees and take his rent right out of that surprised, open mouth of yours. You don’t wear any makeup, you’re at home, after all – but he would buy you some adorable lipstick, some sweet lipgloss, just so you could smear it all over his cock, choking and drooling. He wants to be a good man, a patient man, but he has your panties in his pocket already, and it’s always a fresh pair every few weeks – not enough to make you suspicious that this isn’t the washing machine eating it, but also desperately low for someone like him. 

He wonders if you would be even softer than the tender silk of the things you wear. — Why would you think I accepted you, then? 

He knows why you might be nervous – his attitude isn’t the most welcoming one. He can be soft if he has a reason you – but being soft for too long will make you spoiled. Bratty. He likes women with character, but not women with attitudes he can’t control. Even your sitting position, with both of your legs on a couch, is something he could change with a few spanks on the bare skin he can clearly see from under your shorts. Wearing this when there is a man in the house – how scandalous. How precious. He wonders if all the lingerie sets he already bought for you (getting exact sizes is quite easy when he already knows your proportions divided by 7), will be a nice look on you. For you. 

— Maybe it was your one good deed for the month, but then you’d get annoyed and… He touches you – for the first time in weeks. Maybe the first time since he shook your hand all those time ago. The first time he touched you while you weren’t sleeping, at least. Fully conscious, aware of the man in front of you. (Nanami liked to watch you sleep, sometimes. Stressed people have a bad habit of attracting curses, and he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t invite anything in the safety of his house. It’s what he keeps telling himself when he inevitably ended up at the food of your bed, hands on his cock, stroking it slowly, knowing a dumb girl – naive girl – won’t wake up even if he’d decide to finish on your face. He never would – not until you’d ask him to, at least. He hopes that he will be a good person even after you do) Nanami’s hand is on your cheek, holding you softly. Gently. You’re surprised because this is the first time he touched you so softly – so intimately. You’re blissfully unaware of the fact he was touching you so, so much already. Stroking your ass, your tits, your face when he felt particularly tender – when he knew you were too tired of whatever you were doing while being unemployed and having everything catered to you to notice that he is touching you. — I won’t get annoyed with you. 

You press your face against his hand, taking in his touch. He has soft hands – cared for, manicured carefully. He takes care of his appearance and you’re embarrassed to appreciate that about it. To even notice – he isn’t yours, probably doesn’t want to be, but he allows you to live in his house even though you suck at being a proper housewife, and it should mean something. It does mean something – you smile and close your eyes. You want to do something for him because he already did so much for you. The possibilities are making your ears burn. — How can I repay you if you don’t want rent then? He can think of a few ways. The possibilities will make your ears burn. — You can start by actually cooking. 

And he will call in to fire you later. 

[shepherdsheart]

Excuses

DPxDC Prompt

“I’m just trying to help you!”

“And who said I needed help!” Danny snapped as he turned on his heels to face the man trailing after him.

Bruce, his father, was looking at him with a hurt expression but Danny couldn’t be bothered to care at that moment.

“Please Danny just listen to what I have to say!”

“No! Don’t you dare come up with excuses! I’m tired of fucken excuses!” Danny snarled, his fists tightening as rage coursed through his body. It was taking all of his control not to pounce on the man.

“It’s always been excuses Bruce and I’m done! You lost your chance! Get that in your fucken head! You screwed up and this time honeyed words and money won’t fix it!” The words were like poison on Danny’s tongue and he could see Bruce failing to hold himself together with each sentence he spoke but he didn’t care.

“I waited 3 years for you! For my own father but you didn’t even have the mind to at least let me know you were alive! That’s 3 years of my childhood lost just so you could go play dead to the world doing god knows what!!!” Danny was screaming now but he didn’t care. One way or another he was going to make Bruce understand it was to late, 20 years to late and there was nothing to do to fix it.

“Then! Then you had the audacity to come back with your lame ass excuses and pretend I didn’t exist! No matter what I did it was like I was fucken invisible!”

“Danny please just hear me out!” Bruce was pleading now but Danny continued on in his rant.

“1 year! It took you one year to replace me! Your own son! Your own god fucken flesh and blood to play family once it was convenient for you! So no I won’t fucken listen!” Danny heaved a breath as his body shook with anger and his eyes stung with tears as he looked upon the man he long ago once loved so very much.

Bruce himself looked no better than himself in his own emotionally constipated way. The man looked upset and torn beyond belief with the usual glow in his blue eyes dulled with emotion.

Both men sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Bruce seemed to gain back his voice. “I’m messed up and I’m sorry. I know that my words only stand for so much Danny but I am truly sorry. What I did to you has been one of my biggest regrets.” Bruce spoke and from what Danny could feel it was all sincere.

“If you would give me the chance to prove it to you then let me, I am willing to go above and beyond to make it up to you and show you just how sorry I am.”

Danny now calmer and mind more clear with his anger channeled out couldn’t help but feel the smallest of sparks in his core flare. “I. .” Danny stopped as a wail pierced the air and Danny looked down the hallway towards the nursery before he looked back at Bruce.

“I am not ready to forgive you, now if you will I need to see to my family.” With that Danny turned away making his way into his apartment.

[gulliblelemon]

Birthday more-than-snippet

As my birthday gift to myself, I'm giving you the first 1.2k words of my next fic. (Still hasn't gone through my whole editing/beta process yet, but I wanted to share anyway). It is, as yet, untitled (obviously - I'm still me), but here is the some context for the 'no context' fic 💜

~🏳️‍🌈💜🏳️‍🌈~

The slamming door makes Wille jump. He’s been sulking, leaning against the wall, waiting for his turn to be called into his mother’s office. A summons is rarely a good thing where Wille is concerned. He’s the fuck-up, the let-down, the disappointment who continuously fails and falls short of his mother’s expectations. 

Not like poster-boy Erik. Poster-boy Erik who is currently storming out of his mother’s office and away from Wille.

There’s a split second of shock, where Wille doesn’t quite know how to react, he half pushes off the wall, ready to tear down the corridor after Erik before he hears a voice calling out of the office.

“Come in, Wilhelm!”

He hesitates a moment longer before sighing and stomping into the office, ready to defend himself for something he doesn’t even know he’s done yet.

“Sit down, Wilhelm,” his mother says, gesturing to the chair opposite.

The seat is cold and unforgiving, not unlike the expression currently residing on his mother’s face. She looks at him for a beat, lips pursed, calculating, before shaking her head and sighing. 

For a moment, Wille is taken aback. It’s a surprisingly vulnerable noise from her, and not one he is used to hearing. It’s less surprising than the words that follow. “Thank you for coming, Wilhelm. I appreciate you making the time at such short notice.”

Thinking of his exceptionally empty schedule of mostly moping around and feeling sorry for himself after being torn apart by the media for a club fight that wasn’t his fault, Wille just nods. “Of course,” he says, not wanting to rock the boat. 

She sighs again before exclaiming, “If we could have one week without a scandal! Is that too much to ask?”

Shocked, Wille tries to rack his brain for what else he might have done wrong this week but is interrupted by Kristina shaking her head and saying, “Sorry, that was unfair of me. What I actually called you in her to say is: we are postponing your transfer to Hillerska. Potentially indefinitely.”

What? Wille knows his mouth drops open at her words, but he just can’t comprehend what she’s saying. 

“I know it’ll be coming as a shock, goodness knows the whole this is a shock to all of us. Honestly, Erik should have known bet—”

“I’m sorry… what?” Wille finally says, spluttering an interruption, much to his mother’s chagrin.

She purses her lips and exhales through her nose. And this is more familiar territory, this he is used to, this barely concealed annoyance and her obvious displeasure at his mere existence. 

But it soon melts into something else, and she closes her eyes, massaging the point between her eyebrows for a moment before lowering her hands and clasping them in front of her.

“It has come to our attention,” she says, “that some of the things that go on at Hillerska are things that we do not want The Royal Family to be associated with.”

“Things?” Wille says. “What things?”

“That is none of your concern,” she says. “We have simply decided that at the present time, it would be prudent to send you elsewhere. Distance ourselves from Hillerska and its reputation.”

“Is this why Erik stormed out?” Wille asks. “What happened?”

“I have already said—”

“If it’s public knowledge, I’m going to find out sooner or later,” he says. “And surely it’s better to hear it from you than some gossip magazine.”

He’s not even sure why he’s pushing so hard, except that for once, Erik might have fucked up more than he has. And that alone is enough to make him more than a little bit smug.

Kristina is looking at him carefully, her face is exceptionally still although her eyes have narrowed slightly. “I suppose you are right,” she says eventually, and he lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Maybe hearing it from us would end up being better. Well” - she uncrosses and recrosses her hands on the table, it’s as close to a nervous tick as she gets - “it appears that the Hillerska initiation ceremonies have become somewhat more vulgar in the years since your father and I were there. We have been made aware of the fact that there was some… inappropriate behaviour. Behaviour that will be frowned upon by the public. Especially when taken out of context.”

“What like?” Wille says, trying not to sound too eager. Erik had always brushed off the Hillerska initiations, and told Wille he’d find out when he had one himself. 

“We have been made aware that some of the students were forced to… undress.”

Wille baulks. That seems a bit excessive. The idea of having to strip in front of new classmates seems awkward at best. Embarrassing and humiliating. Although Erik had said that the point of the initiation was to prove that no one was above anyone else, a shared experience to bring the new students closer together. And maybe it’s no worse than having to change in the locker room anyway…

“They were also,” Kristina continues, “made to watch an… unsavoury film.”

Wille screws up his face. “I’m sorry… a what?”

“A… pornographical film, I am led to believe.”

Wille’s stomach turns. “Seriously?” he says. And that’s way worse than getting changed in a locker room. He doesn’t want to believe it. Doesn’t want to believe that Erik would have been involved in something like that, but also doesn’t want to believe that Erik would have sent him to Hillerska knowing that that was going to happen to Wille without warning him. Not without—

“A pornographical film depicting… relations between two young men.”

It feels as though the floor has been pulled out from beneath him and he is free falling. Wille gasps and it gets caught in his throat. Through a splutter, he says, “A— they showed them a gay porn film?”

Kristina curls her lip in distaste. And Wille doesn’t want to know if it’s distaste at the act of showing it to unsuspecting first years who have been stripped of their clothes, or if it's because of the content of the film. Wille hasn’t come out to his family, or to anyone in fact. It is a secret that he carries with him, slowly festering, breaking him down from the inside. But no one needs to know. It doesn’t make any difference. He can bear it, he can carry it through life and tell no one. 

But can he bear the knowledge that Erik would— That Erik thought it was fun to laugh at that, to put people in the position of— No. Wille can’t. It’s too much. He wants to vomit. And he wants to run. And he wants to scream.

He does none of those things. 

“Apparently so,” Kristina says, with a small shake of her head, as if it’s just a small inconvenience, as if Wille’s views of his brother have not just been completely upended. Maybe Erik wasn’t actually involved. Maybe he was against it. Yes, that must be it. It can’t be that his brother would do that. There’s no way.

“So, understandably, we cannot have you beginning to attend, at least until this is all sorted out.”

Still reeling, Wille says, “Sorted out?”

“Yes. We need to either deny the claims that Erik was involved. Or - if that is not possible - at least do something to regain the public’s trust in the institution. And ourselves. Honestly, Erik should have known better.”

Yes, Wille thinks, he should.

“Can I go?” is what he says instead. 

She looks at him for a moment, then says, “Yes, I suppose there’s nothing further to discuss at the moment.”

Nodding his head, he stands and practically flees from the room.

[hyyhmidnightzone]

Statistics for Dummies

Tutor! Joshua x Reader

Math has never been your strong suit, but luckily the cute boy next door has always been willing to tutor you. Apparently the offer doesn’t expire. How failing in a subject isn't the end of the world, and maybe the start to a new beginning. word count: 5.9k tags:some fluff, some angst, the inherent panic of growing up and not having a set plan. Mentions of anxiety and academic burnout. Religious imagery? Part of the And Childhood Comes Once More series Part 1. Part 2.

The last time you’d seen Jisoo before he had moved away for college is a memory blurred by dust and attic webs, too precious to be rotten but rather in time stuck the way old paintings are left to die in the attic. Still young, still growing, still knowing nothing but the life you had within the walls of your parents house as you swung your legs at the kitchen table - pencil in hand as you scratched away at a worn piece of paper. The fifth time the math equation had eluded you, and the fifth time Jisoo had given you his patent patient smile, leading you through the equation once again. 

Always kind, always gentlemanly Jisoo Hong, from the very moment you’d met him and for as long as your mind could conceptualize his presence in your life, he would be encapsulated as the gentle boy you grew up to love. You’d never been a fan of the term “love at first sight”, but you think Jisoo and you get pretty close. The day the older boy had found you stuck in a tree - crying your little eyes out until your wails had managed to get his attention - was the day he had cemented himself in your life. He’d just moved in next door - and despite only being a few years older than you he had been quick to act, urging you to take the leap of faith. 

I won’t let you fall, he had said - voice sweet and reassuring in a way that reminded you of how ripe fruit would burst with flavours across your tongue. I got you, just jump. It had taken nearly half an hour, and what must have been all of the boy's patience though he hadn’t shown it, only letting out a huff as you fell into his embrace. Shaky knees locking around his waist, all you could focus on was his warm embrace surrounding you to keep you safe from your descent. Despite crumbling to the ground at the sudden added weight from a meter high, drop the cushion your fall without complaint - only letting out a small huff. 

He had kept his arms firmly around you as he checked for injuries, and though it had been an intimidating and frankly embarrassing scenario you couldn’t help the skip of your juvenile heart at his kindness. Hey, he laughed, hands carefully guarding your head and eyes carefully tracking your expressions as if to pick you apart to find any damage. If he was bothered by your weight, he didn’t show it.  Hi, you had responded, suddenly painfully shy. Despite your rough meeting, you had become close during the years, to the point where when you were failing your math class sophomore year of highschool he had volunteered to tutor you. 

He’d become a bit like a pillar, if you had a problem you’d only need to shoot him a text and he’d be at your door a few minutes later. His hold on you had practically become a scheduled outing - second nature guiding you to each other again and again. No matter if you had an emergency at 3 am, or just wanted to run for a coffee and the weather was too cold - Jisoo Hong would be knocking at your door with the same smile he always had. Your mother cooed over him, calling him her future son - but you remember the way he’d chase after fluttering appears with the class president, or the girl he’d lent his umbrella without a thought even as the rain poured down.  For everyone, you reminded yourself, not just for you.

The last tutoring session you’d had wasn’t quite memorable, nor was it conclusive - in fact you could have called it anticlimactic. It was the slow putter out of a skipping stone until it sank into the bottom of the lake - forgotten in favor of the next stone at hand.  You’d been sitting at the slightly sticky surface of your kitchen table, only really focused on the vaguely twining warmth radiating within the short distance between the both of you and the crinkle near his eye as he smiles. A little sympathetic, but you wistfully hope it had been mostly fond. 

“I can’t solve it,” you grumbled - heeding the need to lean away before you might have blurted out something silly like " do you have to graduate" manages to make it out instead. “I hate this,” I hate that you're leaving. Your mouth stays carefully filtered even as you lean back in a display of brattish behavior that made him laugh. It had been a week before he was moving out to his university - one miles away from the comfortable house down the street. You wanted to kick your feet out, almost childish, but refrained in fear that the last memory he’d have of you was a kid at the dinner table he’d managed to put up with for years. 

“Don’t be like that y/n,” he had soothed - hand reaching out to brush your hair from your face - it was light and barely even a touch, reminding you of how painfully gentle he was with you always. Sometimes you wonder if he still saw you as the crying child stuck on the tree branch. Somehow, you wished he pressed his hand against your cheek instead. “You still have my number, you know? Just a call away from my favorite angel.” Like always the term of endearment had burst butterflies in your stomach before they curdled away. It may have been a bit more special, you had thought, if I was sure I was the only one. 

Because the thing about Jisoo Hong is that he was kind. Incredibly so - if you wanted him to give you the shirt right of his back he would without more than a few questions. Kind, patient, gentlemanly Jisoo Hong who lived next door - the boy who treated the entire street like a long lost friend. In his endless ability to give kindness, being close to him had almost felt isolating. He was kind to you, great, he was kind to the angry old couple across the street as well - who still scolded children to get off their lawn. 

“Yeah,” you had agreed - demurely smiling to answer the furrowed brow of concern. It was impossible to lie to him, the boy read you like an open book, you didn’t know whether you wanted him to pry you apart or leave you closed. 

The next week he loads the UHaul truck and sweeps you into a hug to say goodbye. You mute him the same day, unable to stomach the inability to not wait for his text, or the possibility that it would never come. 

—

Going to college yourself had come like the first burst of winter - cold and frigid and indicative of a new and inevitable beginning. Moving into the dorms had felt a little like setting up at a hotel - temporary and not yet registering as your residence - you wonder if this is how it felt for everyone. Or maybe you were just bad at change. Your roommate is nice enough, simply cordially greeting you before retreating to their side of the room, and you drift off in your bed - the fatigue of the day crashing down. Despite the other human co-existing in the cramped space you felt oddly alone, and this feeling is what you blame as you reach for your phone and open a rusted number. 

To your surprise, or maybe panic, you see he texted you not 5 hours ago. The cursed and blessed name that haunted you burns into your retinas as you stare. [Hey Angel, heard you officially moved to your college. If you need anything I’m just a walk away now!]

While you hadn’t necessarily stopped talking, it was far and inbetween. Barely even monthly at this point - though perhaps (or rather, definitely) not on Jisoo’s fault. Call it cowardice at its most tender, but if you fled first, it wouldn’t hurt as much when he eventually sends his last text. (This is what you convince yourself of, no matter the dreams you have of your hand in his once again.)

Your lips quirk slightly at his familiar soft tone, the implications of the title neighbor not flying over your head. You remember summers spent splitting popsicles, getting the large half when it cracked unevenly. Springs spent gathering flowers to weave into a failed flower crown he’d wear anyways. You remember the fall right before you moved - and the first winter alone, surviving with the teddy bear he’d won for you during a carnival. It had been a poor excuse of a distraction - and you’d ended up leaving it on a bookshelf when it no longer smelled of him.  

Hesitantly hovering your fingers over your keyboard you debate on simply leaving him on delivery, before deciding better on it. Typing out a quick [Not your favorite anymore :(? ] before shutting off your phone and turning fitfully in bed, imminent regret ramming into you. He’s gonna block me, you whine in your head , he’s gonna think I haven't grown at all. 

“You good?” the call of your roommate startles you - and you flush feeling caught red handed. Logically they couldn’t know your turmoil, and was much more likely to believe you were simply trying to get comfortable on the tough mattress your college had supplied. But as always there was something about Jisoo that ripped you open and vulnerable - and you can only really let out a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah fine, don’t worry about it, it's just that the mattresses might break my back before classes do.” Your roommate lets out her own laugh - an easy amusement spreading across the rooms formerly empty air. 

“Yeah? I feel you.” Biting your lip to stifle any excess laughter- you instead stretch lightly before settling again. Glancing back at your phone with heavier eyes you barely catch the new message blinking across your screen. 

[Always my favorite, pretty angel y/n. Always.]

Mercifully, sleep takes you before you can scream. 

—

Not unlike a newly born deer attempting to figure out how its gangly limbs work, you manage to wobble your way through the new semester with unsure energy. You're not doing terribly you think, a few classes had almost been at risk of being engraved on your headstone a few times but despite it you were alive. Thriving? A stretch, but alive.  

Except, there's a 68% staring at you from your screen as your statistics professor opens the scores for exams. 

“Remember to review the textbook,” she chides - uselessly flipping through slides of restated youtube videos and unrelenting monotone lectures you can’t make heads or tails of. You had only checked the reviews of her class afterwards - and had come onto the rude awakening that she was the culprit of a many sunken GPAs. 

You had spent nights pouring over recorded lecture and class notes, rereading the textbook and supplemental videos until you had passed out at your desk. You think that there may be a print engraving of your nails in the side of your chair at this point, from all the nervous clenching. Despite your best efforts the equations only swim mockingly around you, a headache threatening to split open your skull.

“I can’t,” you sob over the phone, pillow wet with tears and snot as you bring back another failed assignment. Your professor claimed to have given you feedback, but all the comments she had put essentially accumulated to a “did you read the textbook?” Useless. You don’t know who to kill first, yourself or her, though both preferably with a shotgun to the head. You hear your mothers comforting hum crackle over the speaker - miles away and so out of reach the want to throw a fit almost overtakes you - shocking your system like cold water. Instead you fall across the bed as you hear the static-laden hit of a knife to wooden chopping boards. 

“Honey, why don’t you ask Jisoo to tutor you again?” You snort, the beginnings of ire pulling at you by the mention of the illusive forbidden name. 

“Jisoo is also a college student in the middle of midterms? He doesn't have the time to deal with me anymore.” Your mom only laughs a little chidingly over the phone. 

“You never know honey, he always had time for you here.” You bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood.

“I was his neighbor, it was kind of mandatory. He probably doesn't have the patience for a n adult still failing math.” At that, your mom only laughs, sounding a little like disbelief. 

“He loved you y/n, he loved coming over here.” A flair pang of butterflies - and their quick life cycle of birth and death hit your stomach at the thought of reaching out to him. At this point your body may be more of a graveyard of feelings, all for one Jisoo Hong.

“He loved everyone in the neighborhood. “ Rolling over to your side - your mood suddenly sours, you feel the want to cry again for completely different reasons. It's a little pathetic,  you acknowledge, to hold feelings over a boy even 2 years after you stop talking. 

“Y/n he-”

“Good night,” you whisper - unwilling to continue the conversation and in an act of petulant childlike behavior hang up before you say goodbye. You’ll be scolded later for your bad manners but you need the time to compose yourself before you melt away all together. 

—

The next day there's a knock at the door, and a quick glance at your roommate tells you they also haven't been expecting anyone. Something like anxiety carefully trickles its way down your spine as your roommate offers to get the door, you nod - following her a foot behind. It reminds you vaguely of the way you’d sneak behind your mothers figure as she opened the door for Jisoo, and how every time he’d find your eyes and laugh. Don’t be a stranger Angel, he scolded playfully. And perhaps in an act of revenge, there in the doorway beholden is the object of your emotional turmoil. 

A bit taller, more broad, the same crinkles around the eyes and just as infuriatingly and harmfully gentle, Jisoo smiles when he catches your wide eyed stare. You kind of wish there was an axe murderer standing there instead, it would have hurt less. It would certainly put you out of your misery quicker anyways. Helpless in the face of your incredulous gaze, he holds up a small pack of coffee - one of which was your go to order back at home. It looks oddly like he was trying to extend a peace offering. 

“Your mom called the other day, asked if I was still open to uh - tutor you.” His voice is as nice as ever, you think - before the message catches up. Bright red blotches of red bubbles in your chest - feeling somewhat trampled over as you turn away from the door suddenly unable to stand the sight of him. She had no right, you think - frazzled by the sight of someone you had no intention of ever seeing again, of ever letting so near. 

You hear your roommate laugh at something he murmurs and the familiar feeling of cold isolation sweeps through your fingers again - threatening to you with frostbite. Feeling almost like a child, stranded in the corner of the classroom as your classmates click together you blink back the urge to cry like one too. 

Despite the years spent away, as always, Jisoo blinks at you the same way he does when he realizes something, when he’s reading you quicker than you can yourself. The same way he had when he noticed the way your chin quivered, and the rapid movement of your eyes as you bawled all the way up in a tree. Side stepping your roommate quickly - he reaches out to hover over you only a bit, before setting the coffee down and engulfing you. His nose buried in your hair - and for a second your heartbeats intertwined. 

Warm as ever, sweet as ever, your neighbor has come to your rescue once again - showing up at your door like a superhero. The anger of being coddled slowly lets go under the weight of his presence, the warmth of his hands as they slide over your back leaving trails of tingling sensations. 

“She told you I failed my class?” Jisoo huffs - and you can feel his breath fan over your neck in a hot puff. It sends a vague thrill of lightning down your spine before you allow yourself to fully settle into his form - despite your previous misgivings it is nice to be held again. 

“B isn’t a failing grade - I’m just here for a little support,” he amends - stealing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. “C’mon Angel, we’re only just a bit worried is all.” It shocks you - though perhaps it shouldn’t. He’d made a habit of it back when you were still children. The awkward sound of your roommate shuffling past you to her side of the room breaks you out of the comfortable ambience you’d settled in, embarrassment burning through your veins as if poured through a funnel. 

“Oh - uh, this is-”

“Jisoo Hong,” he interrupts, reaching a hand out despite his hold around your waist and your roommate grins back. “Y/n’s favorite neighbor.”

—

Blunt sounds of leather and pages flipping surround the both of you as the library continues its muted vibrance, formerly comforting but now you'd rather be anywhere else. A few students shuffle into the corner, murmuring among themselves and the librarian only gives them a warning look before a relative silence settles again. Despite the harsh fluorescent lights of the library threatening to wash everyone out, Joshua practically glows under it, hunched over your statistics textbooks with an impressive frown on his face. 

He reaches for the recording of the lectures you took, pressing the fast forward button with a firm expression on his face.You notice his hands have grown with him, larger and more encompassing - before you snap your gaze back to the lecture. It's probably the closest you’d ever been able to witness anger on him. 

“She doesn't go into a lot of depth, hm?” He continues to fast forward a few seconds before sighing. His voice is a bit tight, bellying some sort of frustration that he’s always been careful about showing to you. The same way he would sigh at the dinner table before reaching over to pat your head. Glancing at you apologetically, you can only concentrate on the soft curve of his lips. “We might have to start from scratch with this concept Y/n.” You groan. 

“I hate that,” you mutter - vaguely reminded of nights spent awake and staking useless notes of youtube videos promising to teach you the same things. (Maybe even further reminded of a tacky dinner table and dinners spent with your heart on your sleeve.) Jisoo reaches out to engulf your hand in his own, brushing soothingly against your palm with his thumb - leaving a warm trail of affection. You clutch at it, unable to stand the sudden heat shooting up your arm as well as the thought of pulling away.  Your heart pumps erratically in your chest, as if attempting to crack open your ribs to reach out on its own. 

“I got you,” he muses. His other hand lands on the seat of your chair as he drags you closer - and you're glad you freeze instead of squealing. Vaguely you're aware it's just easier to teach like this - that this is the exact same position you had once held as you toiled over your old kitchen table with the same subject tormenting you. Despite logic telling you otherwise your stomach becomes the golden gilded cage of dancing butterflies again, only becoming more erratic as his hand reaches up to tuck a piece of hair against your ear. 

He leans in a bit closer, and you think you can see a twinkle of something in his gaze. “Ready?” No. Stay away. I don’t want to fall for you again. I think I already have.

“Yeah.” You breathe back. 

—

The last memory of you that Jisoo holds dear is one polished in golden dust and glinting sunlight - protected in his mind the same paintings within the Louvre are.Pristine, clear and varnished - your put up to display as a monument of who created him. It was only a month before he had to move out - and he could see you fading away day by day. Desperate to spark the flame back into your eye - return the light of the same fire that burned him everytime he got too close - he had invited you over for a movie marathon. 

Acquiring to his pleas of just one horror movie, it won’t even be that scary, he had played his favorite and realized quickly that his own tolerance of the genre perhaps didn’t equate to others. (He had perhaps spent one or two nights too long falling asleep to dubious soundtracks and slasher films, though in his defense they provide a specific background noise he can’t find elsewhere.) Midway through the first chase scene, he felt the soft touch of a hesitant hand grip his sleeve - and had looked down to see your curling towards him. 

“Cute,” he had muttered - absent of his own will - before he had caught himself as you glanced up at him. Wide eyed, soft lips opened just slightly, leaning your curled body to his - you were the pictures men had started wars over. He thinks of the men who have started wars over love, of Paris and the gods and their petulance. He thinks now of what he would do for you to keep looking at him with stars in your eyes. What wouldn’t I do for you, he wonders - opening his arm for you to tuck under - giddy warmth spreading as your figure fits to his side. He leans over to kiss the top of your head, lips coming away burning. He hopes you can’t feel his heart scream his secrets, shouting at the top of its lungs about how desperate he is to be able to hold you closer. 

He’s scared that you might hear him say, I love you. Scared that you may be able to look into his eyes and find his heart beating just for you - his personal Angel.  

During church, they had nailed the theme of Adam and Eve. Of how she had tricked her faithful companion who had given a rib to create her - feeding him the forbidden fruit to damn them forever to a life outside of paradise. Honestly he thinks that the priest may have been over exaggerating the extent of Eve’s deceit. What man wouldn’t sin for his love? What man could resist the idea of spending eternity till death with his lover in his arms?

Holding you close, your soft body pliant against his own - he takes the indulgent idea of you melding together - unifying together in flesh and soul. In both faith and sin - and knows that if you held poison to his lips he’d eat it without complaint. 

—

Standing in front of the dorm hall - he swallows whatever leftover trepidation he has left that threatens to burst from his throat. The call had been a bit of a surprise, though not an unwelcome one, at least not after his last message being left on read for the past week. She just needs a little help, your Mom had insisted -- so Jisoo had bought your favorite coffee and headed over. Taking a breath to calm the erratic thunder under his skin he knocks on the door and waits - catching hushed voices and shuffling before the door cracks open. 

His heart drops when at first an unfamiliar face looks up at him, before he meets your own shallowly hidden behind the stranger who must be your roommate. It's such a familiar sight his knees threaten to buckle, before he manages to find his voice again. After 2 years of absence, the first thing Jisoo thinks is that you look cute. 

You’d grown a bit, changed in ways that only time could do - filling out into a person over the time he’d been ripped from you. His arms ache suddenly - the need to hold you until you melded into his chest reverberating. His brain short circuits - and he blurts out the first thing he can think of. 

“Your mom called the other day, asked if I was still open to uh - tutor you.” Oh god, he mourns, I’m so fucking stupid. 

You’d never taken kindly to people talking over your own voice or going behind your back - so he watched you already dreading the anger that fought to the surface of your expression before you turned away from him. The ache throbs, the need to hold you and soothe away the pain he created practically crumbles him to his knees anyways. “Excuse me,” he murmurs to your roommate, quickly sliding into the foreign room. 

It's a bit like sin, how much he needs you on his skin, how much he practically dreams of kissing you again. 

They giggle a bit in response, side stepping and nudging him gently with their elbow. It was a friendly invitation for conversation - but Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off your form. 

Managing to put down the coffee without spilling it, he just barely restrained the urge to jump on you - to clutch you so tight you would be able to remember you were once two people. Instead he takes to coaxing you into his figure - tactfully rubbing down your back and lips pressed to your head as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. Don’t be mad, he wants to beg, to pray. Instead he just rocks you back and forth and relishes the warmth he’d been craving for 2 years. An addict in the making. 

—

The library at your college was pleasantly quiet, or maybe Jisoo just hung out with loud people these days. He loves them endlessly, but your companionship is irreplaceable. Either way it was a good place to crowd together - just you and him at a table again, side by side against the paper in front of you. It almost reminds him of your first tutoring session - except in the place of that child is an adult, brows furrowed and the new budding temptation to catch your pouting lips with his own. 

Honestly, it had been a little like torture moving away. 

He missed the way you felt next to him, the shared warmth, the quiet domestic intimacy of sitting at the same kitchen table and taking a glimpse into your future together. Even now as you crowd together in a foreign library, he can feel the way his hand physically twitches every time your brushes close enough to touch. Licking his lips, he takes a glance at you, watching the way your hair falls intforn of your face as you lean down to squint at the textbook. Reaching out to tap gently at the table, just to see your gaze on him again, he steals the textbook away to take a look. 

If there was one thing Joshua didn’t miss about tutoring you it was learning new material all over again. Of course he would do it, if only just to be able to see you again, but he thinks this professor may have been born from the gates of hell just to get on his nerves. Incompetence paints her lectures with an irritating monotone lecture recording, one she didn’t even offer to her students, one that you had to record yourself in a desperate attempt to retain any of the information she’s been hurling out for the past 30 minutes.

He gives out an aggravated breath, and reaches out to grasp your chair to pull you closer. If he’s going to weather through a poor professor in a subject he doesn’t excel at anyways, he at least gets you. 

—

“Dude, you’ve been staring at that wall for like 30 minutes. I’m getting a little nervous,” Mingyu laughs nervously as he gives Jisoo a quick nudge. His friends had gathered up for a quick get away weekend, but Jisoo had been glued to his phone and apparently the wall for the duration of their night. S.coups gives him a cursory glance over before he nods in reassurance. 

“Naw, I bet it's his angel again,” Seungkwan nudges Vernon from his left - he just gives a quirk of his lips. Fondness blooms at the easy banter that fills the room, nearly able to belly the natural protective irritation at the mention of you. Nearly.

“Watch it,” he huffs good naturedly. “Their test is today - is it so bad to want all my hardwork to have a good result?” And maybe, he’s a little afraid you’ll ghost him again. 

“The tutoring or the massive pining you’ve had going on for like 3 years dude.”

“Hush.”  A ping cuts through the room and he ignores the leering grins of his friends as he scrambles to his phone to see your name glowing at the top. 

[Done!! Cant thank you enough for the help Jisoo!!] He grins unabashedly at the screen - once again ignoring the dog whistling before him. 

[Always glad to help my pretty one.]

[Lol! Pretty one?? Been a while since I heard that.]

[No one’s called you pretty? I find that hard to believe.]

[Haha, no. Just you. ]

Warmth briefly flees into him at the prospect - partially offended nobody had bothered to tell you, partially glad he’s the only one who will. Hesitating briefly, his fingers lingering over the keyboard before he types out his message he bits at his lips quietly. 

[Well, can a guy take his pretty angel out for a celebratory dinner?]

[Oh? Only if you pay lol. ]

[As if there was another option.] 

A breathe. 

[So it's a date?]

—

The restaurant was one he knew you’d like - not quite busy but not quite so niche there wasn't a clientele. They served a variety of foods, though as he looked at the menu he could almost predict what you’d order. 

You sit across from him as a mimicry of what he once had and what he wants to have again, the intimacy of walking over just to see you - of eating together and spending a night. Your lipgloss shines gentle under the table lamp as you point to one of the foods he knew might catch your interest. 

“This looks good,” you mutter, “but I'm not so sure about the sides.” He hums.

“Take mine, we can swap.” You nod - happy at the prospect of being able to steal some of his food again and he grins. Your mother used to scold you for stealing the fruits off his dessert when you were younger, but he’d always insisted that he didn’t mind. He hadn’t, truthfully it had made him a bit prideful - that you viewed what was his as yours. 

“I missed this, I think,” you admit, and Jisoo’s heart beats to the same rhythm of your words - practically a commandment. Your head tilts back to distract yourself with the details of the decor, a classic presentation of anxiety for you. He wants to reach out, hold your hand to try and soothe you. He does, and smiles at the way your fingers grasp his just as tight.  I missed you, he wants to say - but substitutes it for me too. 

“Ah, we can keep meeting up - if you’d like - for dinner I mean.” He stumbles over his words a bit, trying to simply lay it out on the table before you lose interest again, and you blink in surprise. You tug your hands from his - long enough for him to immediately miss the warmth - before tucking it under your chin to give him a mischievous look. 

“Not too busy with your own college life Mr.Jisoo Hong?” Your lips quirk somewhat sarcastically but there's a hesitation that makes his heart ache. 

“Not for you,” he says - as easy as breathing. Never for you, he thinks. You soften a bit, and he drinks in the view like a man starved. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A pause, and then he’s reaching out again to grab your hand to press a lingering kiss to your wrist - relishing in the blooming flush of embarrassment to your features. You don’t pull back, and that's what matters in the end.

By the end of the night he walks you back to your dorm, standing right outside of your door as you grin up at him. Unable to stop himself he leans down, pausing just before your lips - so you can connect them yourself. It's soft, sweet, and tastes like the strawberries you stole off his cheesecake not an hour prior. 

—

One of Jisoo’s favorite memories of you, was when he had first seen you on a sunny day - sweat beading at his back while his parents bustled in the background trying to move out of the van. He remembered the bug like anxiety crawling under his skin, under his fingernails until he was forced to try and shake them out. The way the wind was too harsh for him, the smells too strong - how everything in this neighborhood was the antithesis of where he wanted to be. 

It’ll be good for you, his father had insisted. Get out, make new friends - life isn’t always about what you want son. It was a useless lecture, one that even made him a bit mad. Trying to get him out of his rut, his mother had sent him to greet the new neighbors. (He could hear their whispers in the back, worrying about his anxiety, how he had been ripped from where he was. His father argues he needs to grow up, his mother says he’s just a child. Joshua kind of just wants to be a person.)

The first few neighbors had been kind enough, the crotchety old couple down the street had practically been frothing at the mouth to chase him off his lawn. Overall, Joshua wasn’t really impressed. Walking up the next hill he stills at the odd sound coming from the backyard - it sounded something like a dying cat honestly. 

Taking a few strides towards the yard, he pauses right in front of the barrier, debating on trespassing , before another wail breaks him out of his indecision. No that's definitely a person, he grimaces, hearing another sob wrench its way out. That sounds painful. 

Now, this is something he’ll take to his grave, but the first thought that came to his head when seeing your figure clutching at the tree branch you were stuck on wasn’t really coherent. It was more along the lines of a visual, a prophetic vision that the older folks at his church would claim they’d dream of. 

Of soft skin covered in draping clothes, of eyelashes that just allow irises to peek through. Of otherworldly beings looking down on those which they govern and smiling at them from the pages - to guide them back into salvation. The truth is Joshua is scared he might scare you, if he told you the first thing that came to his mind was that you were an angel who fell - just to bring him back home. This too, he supposes, is devotion. 

Authors note: Never had a tutor, though I do work as one so it was interesting to turn the tables. It was very much an “is this what im doing to people�� moment.

[wlntrsldler]

very random collections of songs that remind me so deeply of luke castellan and why.

or songs that sparked plot ideas for fics i'll never write.

norman fucking rockwell by lana del rey:

set before his betrayal. situationship luke x reader. you know something is going on with luke, but is so in love with him that you refuse to acknowledge it until it's too late. luke comes to you, begging you to go with him, and you finally see luke for what he's about to become. you recoil from him (luke falls apart at this) and he leaves, defeated.

"what are you doing, luke?" you asked. the cabin was dark, the slivers of moonlight peeking in through the half-opened door where luke stood. "what happened to you?"

luke was standing in front of you, a slash across his abdomen, not deep enough to be critical but deep enough to draw blood. droplets of it stained the cabin floors. his eyes were blown wide, curls tussled in all different directions. he dropped his sword and rushed over to you, grabbing your face in his hands. he placed his forehead against yours, "come with me, y/n. let's leave. he has a plan for us."

the comfort you had with his erratic breaths flashed away in a hurry. you pulled away, eyebrows threaded together in thought, "who is he? luke, you're scaring me."

in his unstable state, he didn't notice your small steps away from him. he was looking behind him constantly as if waiting for a crowd of people to burst through the door behind him. ready and willing to take him away.

"kronos," he said, so casually you thought you'd heard him wrong. he began to explain. his words sounded so rehearsed. so pristine. it was clear that this has been in the works for far too long.

and it was too late.

"luke, no," you replied, shaking your head. you backed into a dresser, hissing at the stabbing pain in your lower back. you were cornered.

he picked up his sword again, taking up a fighting stance unconsciously. you flinch as he walks towards you. he pauses. luke looks down at his hand holding his sword. for a moment you saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he studied himself in the reflection. the light illuminated the side of his face, the scar so prominent, so glaring like a reminder of why he was pushed into becoming this.

he looks up at you again, "i would never hurt you."

"i don't think that's true anymore, luke."

his response was cut off by the sound of panic outside. his time is up. and he failed. somehow this failure, the failure of getting you to join him, to trust him, to love him to the point of betrayal, was the most bitter failure he'd experienced.

luke looked at you, trying to commit the memory of your face in his mind as if you weren't going to remain burned into his soul forever.

18 by 5sos:

luke x aphrodite!reader. you're older than luke by a year and he's so smitten by you. like head over heels! he overhears you and one of your sisters talking about celebrities that you had a crush on but he hears you say "he's too young for me," and he thinks it's about him.

he starts sulking which makes you go ????? because you've been flirting with him for YEARS but he never caught on (pushing the loser!luke agenda here) and you get so fed up when he ignores you that you just confess to him.

now it's his turn to be like ???? because what do you mean you like him??? ends in super cute fluff and endless kisses and obv teasing from the trio. duh.

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap

best friends to lovers!!!!! super touchy, feely friendship between luke and the reader. you're always so flustered after cuddling or when he'd kiss your cheek or give you hugs from behind, but he's so oblivious to your reactions.

one day some ares kid starts flirting with you and you decide it's time to move on from luke anyway because it was getting pathetic. so you start hanging out with the ares kid (who's actually so so so kind and sweet; in another life you'd be in love with him but in this one, luke has you completely) you and the ares kid become super good friends, like besties and 4lifers. (ares kid: y/n maybe you shouldn't let him be so touchy with you. you're never gonna get over him if you keep this up.) you begrudgingly agreed. you start pulling away from luke when he gets touchy and this makes luke :(!!!!!

the nail to the coffin was when he saw you in the ares kid's clothes. you were only supposed to wear HIS clothes. he decides enough is enough.

that night he knocks on your cabin door while everyone is out at the campfire (he knows you hate it bc you smell like smoke for days) and he's seeing red because he hates the ares kid (he doesn't actually, he's just super jealous) and he missed you so much (even though it's only been two weeks since this whole thing started).

he walks in and he's already ranting and he's not even looking at you because he's so ???!!!! then he finally looks at you and he sees that you're wearing his shirt and the ares kid's sweater is nowhere to be found. (you only borrowed it during dinner because you spilled ketchup on your shirt) luke smiles for the first time in days.

he tells you to dump the ares kid and you start laughing and explain the whole situation to him. luke is SUPER embarrassed for being so dramatic but it ends in a cute confession and lots of kisses.

[luvryeo]

transfixed — choi jongho

0.1K MILESTONE EVENT ⟢ CLOSED fem!reader , afab!reader , smut , cw : dom!jongho, sub!reader, dirty talk, fingering, tiny bit of pussy slapping ahahaha , wc : 0.8K , @ssaboala anne look what you made me do aRGHSDK he's so hdkjdfskdjf mmmmm MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

your new pajama shorts are nothing special, just a loose pair in a color you like that’s perfect for the hot summer weather. the cotton fabric is comfy, so much so that you’ve gotten used to wearing them around the house with no underwear on. to be frank, you know they show the bottom of your ass each time you bend down, but you hadn’t been expecting them to draw so much attention from jongho.

what you fail to realize is that sitting in the corner of the couch, legs spread apart, one on the cushions and the other leaning against the armrest, meant that he, sitting on the floor in front of you, has a clear view of almost your whole bare pussy.

“you’re not wearing any underwear,” he states, as if it’s the most normal thing one could say.

immediately, you feel your face flush with heat, completely flustered by his matter-of-fact statement. you suppose it is a fact though, as you look down and realize the fabric was doing nothing to cover up your pussy, nor your apparant lack of panties. frantically, you pull your hands down to your core, trying to cover it, then promptly abandoning that plan in favor of just closing your legs.

but he’s faster than you, shooting up from his spot on the floor to kneel right in front of you and hold your legs apart with his strong grip.

“jongho!” you protest.

he looks up at you, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “there’s no use in covering up now, is there, love?”

“i– well,” you stammer, unable to come up with a good reason quickly enough for him.

“you can’t just have your bare cunt hanging out like that and expect me to do nothing about it.”

“fuck.” your voice is breathless from his words.

“yeah? you’re gonna let me fuck you with my fingers?’

“yes,” you whine out, ever conscious of his strong hold on your legs, willing helplessly for his hands to move further down.

“then keep your legs open for me,” he commands, letting one hand slide down and pull the slim fabric of your shorts aside. you feel a little self conscious, the way he just stares at your cunt, almost as if he’s examining it. he prods two fingers at your entrance, pulling your lips apart slightly and feeling around. you suck in a sharp breath at his movements. “already getting wet for me?” he observes.

you nod mutely, pushing your head back into the couch cushion behind you.

“want you to watch.” his voice is firm, in the way you can hear how sure of himself he is. he knows exactly what he wants and you know better than to not give him exactly that. so you tilt your head back down and force your eyes not to flutter closed when he pushes his middle finger into your heat. you let out a small whine when he begins to move it inside you, his strength evident even in just his one finger. he works you open efficiently, knowing you and your body all too well. he presses firm, surprisingly sweet kisses to the inside of your thigh, then rips away your building pleasure by taking his finger out from you and tugging you so that your legs hang over the couch and he can nestle himself right in between them.

before you can beg him to put his fingers back in your pussy, he pushes two inside, pulling a groan from you instead. he pushes his digits in and out, gaze transfixed by the slick that quickly builds, then leaks out and down to your asshole. he loves the way your arousal collects on his fingers, causing dirty, wet sounds to escape into the open air and mingle with your moans.

“more, please,” you beg, desperate now for him to make you cum. all he’s doing is pumping his fingers in and out, giving no attention to your g-spot, only immersed by the filthy sight.

“be patient,” is all he says, intent on taking what he wants, and making you let him. he’s too slow, and it has you in shambles. your hips buck up, looking for more despite his command. “stay still,” he growls, gripping your upper thigh tightly with his free hand.

he breaks the intense gaze he held on your pussy in order to look you sternly in the eye. “if you let me do whatever i want with your pussy, i’ll let you cum. but you have to be a good girl for me, or i give you nothing. understood?”

you nod desperately, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration, only to have to have them shoot back open at the strong slap he lands on your pussy.

“and keep your eyes down here.”

[abbyfmc]

[Yandere Time Traveler]

Chapter One:

[Narrator PO.V]

This is the story of a boy named Raymond Smith, a young adult who has been treated very badly by life since he was born, since he is the son of a pair of narcissistic and abusive parents who pressured him academically to be perfect in EVERYTHING, or else they punished him physically, psychologically and emotionally speaking.

On several occasions Raymond went to school in long sleeves, covering the bruises, scratches and physical marks his parents gave him when they were angry with him. At school things were not much different, as day after day he was cornered, mistreated, harassed and bullied by his classmates; the leading bully being an upper-class boy named Darius who took advantage of Raymond's weakness day after day.

He would insult him, hit him, slap him, push him, kick him and make fun of him; he would throw books, food and drinks at him, knowing that he would never fight back out of fear and low self-esteem. Even so, neither parents nor teachers cared about him, and he found himself totally alone in those dark years when he even considered committing suicide due to the despair, depression and loneliness he felt that year.

Even so, he was a smart and studious boy (even if it was because of pressure from his parents), but he didn't think that, since he had a bad perception of himself. Things continued like this until the 4th year of high school, which was when Darius was transferred to a different school (although his two friends stayed there), and at that same time a new cute girl arrived, named (Y/n) (Y/ln), being the ONLY one who approached him kindly.

She became his best friend and his emotional support, both in and out of school. They talked a lot during breaks, online, and she would invite him to her house for dinner. She also ended up being very important to him, both by supporting him and being a shoulder to cry on and by helping him to trust himself more and overcome, being his beautiful light in the middle of his darkness.

Time passed and they both graduated with honors, applying to good universities, although they parted ways. Eventually, Raymond graduated at the top of his class; he went to work for his current company where they met again at the office, which made them both happy.

But Darius wouldn't let Raymond get close to (Y/n), as he didn't want their past to come to light (also because he was very jealous, obsessive and possessive with [Y/n]). The latter escalated to the point where (T/n) herself broke off their engagement due to his toxicity, which escalated to the point where Darius kidnapped his ex-fiancée in his apartment after work.

Raymond noticed this, and called the police and followed Darius to his apartment, willing to do anything to save her.

Upon arriving, the police were nearby but he didn't want to waste any time, so Raymond stormed into the apartment, determined to get his beloved out before Darius did anything to her. They exchanged blows, with Raymond taking the brunt of the blow, and in the end, Darius beat him so hard that Raymond ended up falling and hitting his head hard on the corner of a table, which caused his death.

Raymond woke up startled and frightened in his bed. Sweat was pouring down his forehead as he tried to calm himself down.

--What the hell was that dream?!-- He asked himself. He couldn't explain how or why he had that "dream" or rather, "nightmare". Anyway, he decided to call (Y/n) to see if she was okay, but when he looked at her cell phone, he noticed something very strange.

Monday, August 10 - 2015

4:00 AM

--This… is my old phone, and this date… is not today-- He then tried to unlock his phone with previous passwords and failed, until he entered the birthday of his beloved (Y/n). He reviewed old photos and videos, old conversations, social networks and news from the year 2015, which began to give him the impression that he… traveled nine years into the past.

-The end.

So, wat do you think about it?

[belphies-hands-around-my-throat]

Lucifer, Belphie, Levi NSFW - The Kinks They Discovered With You/Because of You

Hello there, sweets! Happy Halloween!! 🎃

And thank you for deciding to follow this blog lol. I'm honestly kind of surprised with the engagement lol.

This is a bit late but the day has been busy haha. I hope you like my first released NSFW for this blog... And since it's Halloween, I'm not holding back on kinks~~ Sorry, if it's not up to your standards, I am very tired. 🙈

Lucifer - Cockwarming

Well, he was surprised with this because… To put it simply, he never liked mixing pleasure and work. Before you, he would always get annoyed with someone as much as trying to hit on him in a professional setting. But you… You were different. You were there for him, you supported him, and he trusted you. He knew you wouldn't let him fail, and wouldn't get in the way of responsibilities, even if he sometimes wanted you to. Would stay all night doing his work for him, if he felt overwhelmed.

It was your idea. You thought it would be relaxing. Truth be told, he didn't exactly buy it. But he would indulge you, just this once if not again and again if needed.

He would get distracted at first, feeling your warm tight hole around his cock. If he had will any weaker, he would give it up right then and there.

But he had self-control.

He leaned into it, scratching line after line into the paper.

And after a while, he discovered… It really was relaxing in a way. Your presence often had that effect on him but this… Closeness, and intimacy, even when he was otherwise distracted. Somehow… He felt completely calm.

He would lean back in his chair sometimes, push his hips further into your willing mouth, and run his gloved fingers gently through your hair.

It felt good. In a way that was different than sex, or cuddling.

Something in between.

"What a good little pet." He would whisper, unwilling to break the sleepy trance you seemed to find yourself in. "You really knew me better than myself there. Good job."

Belphegor - Dacryphilia

Oh boy. He has a complicated relationship with this one. Here's the thing he always knew about himself - he liked to be somewhere on the "mean in bed" spectrum. He perhaps had more appreciation for tears than he ought to have before. But. You were and remain to be different.

It started for him when he was still stuck in the attic, after meeting you. He would fantasize about his brother's reaction a lot at the time. And your reaction, inadvertently, as well. He imagined how satisfying and thrilling it would be to see the look of betrayal and surprise on your face. And then he started seeing you more and more. It was only natural you appeared in his mind more and more. He wanted to see you crumpled on the floor, looking up at him with pleading eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. He wanted to tangle his hands in your hair, bring you to his level, and lick them off your face.

Except not really. That would have been gross. You were a human, he would never do anything so dirty.

He wanted, for a second, to be your God and then crush you under his heel.

It was't sexual. Really, it wasn't! So what if he woke up with an aching dick a few times after those dreams. He was just… Excited. It happened. No way he would think of a human in this way. Gross, downright disgusting.

Later though… After his plan had been realized, he found out he was an idiot for punishing you in this way, for something that was never your fault.

Well, it… Still wasn't sexual. Now your tears would make his stomach throb, and he only wanted to wipe them away. Tear apart the person that caused them. They lost their appeal after he was the cause behind them one time too many.

Or so he had thought.

He did not expect the fantasy to come back. He did not expect that him teasing you, looking up at him with a pouting flushed face, tears in your eyes, would make him feel like he was on the highest point of a rollercoaster again.

Truth be told, he felt guilty. Probably not as guilty as he ought to be though (because… He didn't need to crush you, not in the same way. You could be safe, and his, and not really suffer and break for them to flow. And hell, if that happened, he was there to protect you now. You didn't need to bear them alone now.) because he kind of… Indulged.

He would tease you, even if he knew some things would make you terribly shy. Playfully deny you when you wanted to touch him, or just play with his things. Stop at the last moment, when he knew you were just so close to cumming. Overstimulate you on purpose, when he knew you already did.

"So cute." He would breathe against your face, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright, your face caught between his soft and warm hands. "I can never get enough of it. Cry for me, just a bit more…"

Leviathan - Public+Voyuerism? Being a perv lol

Throughout his years on the planet (and various released hentai), Leviathan had a lot of sexual fantasies. Honestly, there wasn't a lot he couldn't find conceptually hot in one way or another… Well, this was it.

It was just… So embarrassing. The mere idea that he could be found out in any way was so utterly mortifying, that he sometimes had trouble with it, even within the context of his own fantasy. Let alone actually trying. He would always find himself embarrassed of PDA, screeching when something had even the tiniest potential of turning him on, turning away from revealing clothes, terrified of being called a pervert…

In retrospect, maybe that's why after all this, he found public to be such a turn-on in reality.

All the repression… Seeing you wear shorter and shorter skirts, lower necklines, coyly flashing him when you noticed him staring, pretending like you didn't notice but not only accepting his perverted gaze but revelling in it… He was never so turned on in his entire life.

The idea that you would see him as this dirty otaku pervert, see him like this and like it… He couldn't get enough of it.

He got a bit brave after a while. Not only staring but subtly brushing his chest against your back, smelling your hair, rubbing his bulge against your ass or thighs just for a moment in the school halls, before he would seriously die on the spot… Pretending like all this was just some freaky accident.

Slowly trailing his finger higher and higher on your leg while waiting in line, beyond titillated with the way your skirt hiked up, and you just stood there, red-faced, and took it.

He once couldn't take it anymore, couldn't stand the thought of getting found out that riled up, and took you to the public bathroom. He covered your face with his large palm, and thrust between your thighs, with your panties lowered just beneath your ass, slowly getting wet with both of your arousal.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" He would frantically chant in your ear, barely louder than a whisper. "Just for a little longer… Just let me for a little longer…"

[sidekick-hero]

Baby, come home

(steddie | explicit | 6k | AO3 | written for @steddie-week day 1: One Night Alone by Vixen)

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 04, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Long-Distance Relationship (kind of), Porn with Feelings, Bottom Eddie Munson, Top Steve Harrington, Possessive Steve Harrington, Good Boy Eddie Munson, Multiple Orgasms, Steve Harrington is a Tease

Snippet under the cut

No one told Eddie that having all your dreams come true could feel so... shitty.

Here he is, sitting on his hotel bed in fucking Tokyo, in a suite that probably costs more for a night than his uncle makes in a month. Or two. He's on the last leg of his tour, only two shows left before they head home. All of his shows have sold out months in advance.

People loved Corroded Coffin.

People loved Eddie.

He got everything he ever wanted. More money than he could spend, fame and adoration, and the chance to play his music, his songs, in front of thousands of adoring fans.

So why was he sitting on his bed in his ratty Metallica shirt Steve gave him for his 22nd birthday five years ago and some pajama bottoms, staring at an old Polaroid picture of him and Steve taken in Steve's old backyard? They're both in their swim trunks, the bright sun beating down on them. Steve is sitting on a lawn chair with Eddie on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around him, while Eddie kisses Steve on the cheek. They're both smiling, oblivious to their surroundings, lost in each other.

It's one of his favorite pictures of them, one that's already showing signs of wear from looking at it every day. He's afraid that one day there will be nothing left to look at, the paper worn thin and coming apart at the seams.

He's afraid of losing this connection to Steve, this memory of a time when they were really happy. When things were simple between them.

Because lately it feels like that's all he has left of this great love story he never thought he'd get.

Eddie is sure that Steve is the love of his life, the best thing that ever happened to him besides Wayne. So of course he's going to lose him.

Back when it all started between them, Eddie didn't allow himself to trust that it could ever last. That Steve could want him after the initial curiosity wore off, when he started to realize that Eddie was just a fuckup, like his dad. Someone who was trying to be better but would ultimately fail. But Steve seemed dead set on wanting and keeping Eddie, and Eddie would be stupid not to take everything he was willing to give.

If he's honest, he never really stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Only the shoe that seems to have dropped isn't the one Eddie was expecting. It's not someone else sweeping Steve off his feet, or Steve getting bored with Eddie, or Steve getting annoyed with all his weird habits and quirks.

It's distance.

It's Eddie being away all the time. It's them not spending any real time with each other anymore. They don't just exist in the same room any more, chatting about silly things, their days, their dreams and hopes, the kids, or Robin's hopeless love life. It's been ages since they were able to just lie in bed together, skin to skin, not doing anything wild, but just enjoying each other's presence. With Steve's arms around him, his head tucked under Steve's chin and Steve's gentle hands holding him close.

The simple truth is: Eddie misses Steve.

They're not broken up, but some days it feels like Eddie has already lost him.

He remembers his first tour. They had talked on the phone every day, Eddie had made sure of that. Even if it was just to tell Steve that he loved him.

They have a rule: Eddie can't say he loves Steve unless he really feels it. When the feeling sits on his tongue, demanding to be let out. Steve still carries the scars of his first love. He's forgiven Nancy because, in truth, they were both young and Nancy had never meant to hurt him. But she did when she told Steve she loved him when she didn't. It took Eddie over a year to convince Steve that his feelings were real, that he loved Steve, all of him.

Steve made him promise to never say it if he doesn’t mean it, and for the last five years he's told Steve every day. Every phone call, just so Steve would know it's still true.

Eddie didn't say it the last time they talked on the phone. They were about to leave for their after-show party when he remembered that he hadn't called Steve. Again. They hadn't talked in three days and he almost forgot again.

When Steve finally picked up, on the seventh ring, he had sounded...off. As if something was bothering him. Eddie had wanted to ask, to offer comfort, to clear the air, if it was his fault that Steve was in a bad mood. But Gareth and Jeff and Grant were all waiting for him, their crew loud and obnoxious in the background.

"Just go, Eddie. Have fun. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

They didn't talk the next day. Or the next.

Eddie reaches for the phone next to his bed, his other hand still holding the Polaroid, the paper crumpled from how hard he's holding it.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

After nine rings, the answering machine picks up.

Hi, this is Eddie and Steve. We're both out right now - or don't want to answer the phone - Eddie, shut up - I'm just telling it like it is, Stevie - We can't come to the phone right now, so please leave us a message. Thank you. - Always so polite. - One of us - Beep.

A tear slides down his cheek, leaving a dark stain on his pajama pants.

"Hi sweetheart, it's me. Just tryin' to reach ya. I... I just miss you, Stevie. I wanted to hear your voice. I... can't wait to see you in a few days. I'll call you again tomorrow. Or you can call me back, don't worry about waking me - I can't really sleep without you anyway."

He puts the phone down and looks back at the Polaroid. Back at their smiling faces and the way Steve looks at him, all soft and adoring.

He remembers the first time Steve told him he loved him. He had stayed with Eddie in Indy for the weekend, back when Steve was still living in Hawkins until the kids graduated. This thing between them had seemed so new, so fragile, but they had both made it work. They visited each other as often as they could, called each day they didn't see each other.

Eddie was up before Steve, which almost never happened. Steve had come over late the day before and then made love to Eddie for what seemed like hours before falling asleep curled up around him. Too happy to sleep much, Eddie had woken up at dawn and decided to make them breakfast, even though he was a terrible cook. When he carried a tray of pancakes, coffee, and fruit to his bed, there were several burnt pancakes in the trash can, and he had pancake batter all over his shirt, face, and hair.

Steve had taken it all in in silence before kissing the batter off his face, his lips finally finding Eddie's in the softest kiss they had ever shared.

"What was that for?" Eddie asked, breathless despite the chastity of their kiss. Steve always had that effect on him.

"You're ridiculous, Eddie Munson." Steve had said, his eyes full of love. "And I love you."

Smiling at the memory, Eddie suddenly knows what he has to do.

Read the rest on AO3

[astrok1dz]

❤️ Glad you’re back! ❤️

I can’t remember your request guidelines rn so I’m gonna play it safe. Coddling and complimenting Eddie? 👀

RRRAHHHH THAT WAS QUICK!!!!!!! ALR, YES. Eddie needs to be spoiled and just. so much attention. I am very much willing to give that to him. that being said

cw: Eddie being traumatized (duh), a bit of angst, a dash of relationship issues, dw they fix it, happy ending, fluff

Never Too Much

-----

okay so bc of Eddie's past, we know he most probably has a lot of trouble getting into relationships, let alone romantic ones.

so when he met you, and obsessed over you, of course, he felt so lucky he could even breathe the same air as you

but nothing good ever lasts for him, everything is ripped away from him by this god forsaken city. he tries not to get too attached (and fails miserably) so he's shy for longer than he should be.

he's just trying to be prepared for when you'll leave him.

he's absolutely surprised when you don't

he doesn't say anything, of course, but he's just utterly confused

how? how didn't you leave him? all this city had taught him was how he wasn't good enough, how he was different, and how different people, people like him, don't get anything nice. don't deserve anything nice.

you notice this. you always do. it's not hard to tell when he's overthinking. he'll stop and take deep breaths or immerse himself in puzzles, but you're working on communication

you decide to start coddling Edward. to spoil him a little bit.

it doesn't even have to be something big, he'll be grateful for whatever you give him, although he doesn't quite know how to tell you or thank you properly

Eddie hadn't been your Eddie for the last two weeks or so, consumed with work and his plans to cleanse the city. He hadn't had the energy to be quite romantic or intimate lately, so things had been a little colder than usual. It hurt. Did he not love you?

One day you realized your mistake. Eddie? Your Eddie worshipped you. Sure, he could have his bad moments and want some time to himself, but after all the neglect and abuse he'd lived, he probably wanted to be coddled. He just was too embarrassed to ask you to do it. No wonder things had been like this. It was your turn to take the lead.

Now you knew, and you decided to take matters into your own hands. For the last couple of weeks you had been thinking of little ways to make him feel better, and today would finally be the day when you unleashed them all onto little unsuspecting Edward.

You hear the creak and slam of the door to your apartment. In comes Edward's tumbling silhouette, shuffling around to plop down on the couch next to you. Your sweet boy, all tired from work, all tired from this city. He always was.

"Eddie! Oh honey I missed you so much...", you coo, and his heart melts, because although he knows you adore him, he's used to having his absence not quite matter.

He's silent as he shuffles a little closer to you, and you immediately receive him with open arms and an inviting hug.

"Tough day?", you ask, and he nods. You do as well, and hold his shoulders.

"I got a little surprise for you, c'mon, follow me", you tell him. He looks at you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. You help him get up and slowly peel off his jacket, take his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.

He doesn't even get to see what it is before a sweet aroma invades his nostrils. Your tiny bathroom, adorned with scented candles, bubbles and rose petals floating on your tiny tub (if you could call it that).

What?

He looks at you, confused. Why would you do this? Why you, such an angelic being, the antithesis of this dirty city, do this for him, a broken man?

"I- you didn't-", he starts.

"I didn't have to, I know. But you've been so stressed lately and I wanted to help you relax...", you explain kindly. You start shredding your clothes, ready to enter the tub with him. You extend your hand to him, and he feels as if he's being dragged to the pearly gates of heaven.

"Besides, I've been missing you so much... I wanted you all to myself a lil' bit...", you say, and ignore the sting in your eyes. You really did miss him so so much...

"You can have me all to yourself whenever you want (Y/n)...", he stutters out, feeling guilty.

"Oh...", you let out. There he was, so kind, so sweet to you, so unapologetically yours.

"Well, in that case...", you say, almost seductively, but cover up a little once again when you remember your appearance. You were so busy planning this whole thing for today, you hadn't even shaved, you hadn't taken care of yourself. It felt overwhelming. What if your appearance ruined this whole things for him?

"Shit- I didn't- I forgot to- Sorry-"

He stares at you, but his eyes sparkle and his round face is flushed as if this was the first time he's ever seen you (which you both know is not the case).

"You know I don't care about those things. I want to see you...", he says, taking your hand. He looks at you, eyes full of adoration. His hands make their way to your waist and caress it gently, bringing you closer. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

A few happy tears escape your eyes. There he was, the Eddie you've been missing. You help him undress, hands sliding lovingly over every inch of skin you know he's not fond of. Eddie. Your Eddie, so soft and round and most of all, so gentle.

You both get in the tub, cuddled up together. You don't even need to say a word. You both occasionally ask each other questions regarding doubts or insecurities, and reassure each other. When you're both satisfied with each other's answers you share the silence, snuggled up.

"You're so pretty, Eddie... my baby..."

He shivers, and you keep going.

"I love you, Eddie. You're kind and so so sweet. You deserve this, Eddie"

You notice by the way he shakes that now it's his turn to cry, happy cry, of course.

"My baby, you're so strong... You're safe here, you're okay. I love you Eddie, I'll never leave you". You coo.

He sobs, feeling free to break down in your presence. You kiss his tears away.

"Th-Thank you... you're too good to me... you do too much...", he hiccups.

"Oh, but don't you get it, Eddie? It's never too much", you reply, and for the first time, he begins to believe it.

[cosmicjoke]

I feel like this entire sequence of panels is the first time we really see Erwin start to become aware of his own deception, when doubt started to creep into his own mind as to his intentions. We see him leading several units of Garrison soldiers into battle, with Nile questioning him if he's using them as bait, calling him a "devil", and Erwin denying it, saying the aim it to get Eren back, impressing upon them the vital nature of their success, saying humanity will cease to exist on this land if they fail, before telling them to dedicate their hearts (i.e. give their lives).

Later in this same sequence, Erwin famously gets his arm bitten by a Titan and has to cut it off himself to continue on, screaming for his soldiers to keep advancing. Afterward, we see Erwin on the ground, bleeding profusely and unable to keep fighting himself, with a soldier running toward him, crying out for him. Erwin continues attempting to give orders, telling the soldier that he's "replaceable" and reiterating the importance of getting Eren back at all costs. But the panels following that order is remarkably similar to the panel of Erwin's later recollection of the first time he realized he was fighting for something different than everyone else. The first time he realized he was fighting for a personal dream, while everyone else was fighting for humanity. We see Erwin in the foreground, watching on, horrified, as the soldier that had been running toward him gets taken up by a Titan and torn apart in front of him.

The next, several panels of Erwin show him uncharacteristically at a loss as to what to do. The Armored Titan is coming and their ranks are being decimated by the surrounding Titans. Erwin looks on, dazed, no longer shouting out commands. I think this is the moment in the story when Erwin remembered, at last, that moment from his first expedition. When he's surrounded by the meat grinder, forced to watch soldiers under his command being torn to shreds. The earlier moment of Nile accusing him of using them as bait, and Erwin's denial of it, and then Erwin's selfless command to forget about him, to make Eren the priority, contrasted against his helpless paralysis later on, serve I as a demonstration of Erwin's internal struggle between his duty as Commander of the Survey Corps, and the expectation placed on him by that role, and his personal dream being the underlying motivation for all his decisions. This is where I think the guilt finally starts to seep into Erwin's mind on a more conscious level. He sees all these soldiers around him dying, and though he told Nile it was for humanity's survival, willing the soldiers to follow his orders through that insistence, here he's reminded of his youthful realization about the difference between him and everyone else in the SC, and so faced with his own deception, his own manipulations, causing in him a paralyzing guilt, rendering him unable to act even as his soldiers are slaughtered all around him.

Finally, in the last panel, we see the deliberate comparison between Armin and Erwin, with Armin recalling Erwin's hardened leadership, continuing to call out commands even as he's seemingly mortally wounded. Armin wonders what else he needs to "throw away" in order to change, so that he can make a difference, too. He's thinking of Erwin's seeming unwavering dedication to the cause of humanity, his willingness to sacrifice whatever it takes in order to lead humanity to victory, and he wonders what he himself can sacrifice to do the same. This, along with Erwin saying he's "replaceable" is clear foreshadowing of how Armin will, eventually, assume Erwin's role within the story. He thinks of Reiner, Bertolt and Annie, and in the next panel, we see him smiling almost demonically, realizing he needs to let go of his sentimentality regarding those he once considered friends, in order to do his duty and help them to win this battle. We know how next Armin uses manipulation to secure Eren back into their hands, by lying to Bertolt about how they're torturing Annie, etc...

I think it's interesting how in the same chapter, we see Erwin finally waver and be filled with doubt for the first time, while we see Armin cast away his own insecurities for the first time and make the move that ends up being vital in getting Eren away from Renier and Bertolt.

For Erwin, we later see the way his personal dream starts to affect and impact his personal conduct and decision making, with the way he's unable to mask his delight over finding out that Titans are really human beings, and of course, him making choices that he's actively aware harm humanity's chances of survival, while furthering his own goal of seeing what's in Eren's basement. It's like some sort of dam has been broken inside him, unable to hold the dictates of his personal dream in check anymore.

I think this chapter was when we really begin to see the cracks forming in Erwin's psyche and his guilt beginning to affect his ability to properly lead, while we see Armin finally start to come into his own in his willingness to give up something important to him for the greater good.

[nerdieforpedro]

Finally Away

Chapter 2 of “This is the Neighborhood Din” Series

Din Djarin (Modern AU) x Sierra Harris (plus size OFC)

This fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 3k

Warnings: Divorce, domestic violence (both referenced and actual), burns, scratches, blood, stalking, description of injuries, self-esteem issues, matchmaking?, domestic fluff, soft moments and hugs

Summary: Sierra has arrived to her aunt's home and meets their new neighbors Din and little Grogu. She didn't plan on her ex-husband showing up before her long drive - that man decided to ensure she had his disgusting marks on her arms.

Notes: In this chapter there is domestic violence and descriptions of Sierra's injuries as well as past incidents with her ex-husband. Likely will be mentioned again but not with injuries. There's also a burn mentioned as well that Sierra caused.

Special thanks to @pedroshotwifey for beta reading and @julesonrecord for having these resources in their Cherry Wine fic. It’s an excellent read, just make sure to review the warnings as it is marked DDNE.

I would have posted this earlier but I didn’t get a notification about the poll results. 😭 My bad.

Domestic Violence resources (In case you or someone you know need them):

United States

Canada

United Kingdom

European Union

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist/ This is the Neighborhood Din Series

The drive from Maryland to New York State hasn’t been that bad, just so long. Nearly seven hours. Sierra had planned to leave earlier than she did. It was her last day in her apartment, she was going to leave the keys since all her belongings she planned to take were already in her car. It had been six months since the divorce was final but a year and a half that she had lived apart from Darius.

Sierra knew he hadn’t cared about her, at least the last few years of their marriage, not after those beatings started. She didn’t stay because she loved him, falling out of love with him was at the first punch. She’d been confused at first, he’d never been violent before, always kind. But when Sierra thought on it after the second bloody nose, she wondered if this was happening because something was wrong with her. When he hit her and this time, kept hitting her in her stomach after that last time he came home, she let him sleep and then poured boiled hot grits on him. She’d already looked into getting an apartment by herself and was going to stay with a friend for a week until it was ready. Darius never did press charges against her or told anyone how he got those burns on his abdomen and chest, Sierra assumed that he was embarrassed that his wife who he had been beating got one over on him. After she left, she needed to try and figure out what was next and who to turn to for help.

Thankfully, her aunt Johnnie Mae was more than willing to take her in after she’d been able to save some money by living in that cheap apartment. It almost made the hour long commute to the middle school she taught at worth it. Saving money was her priority so she would have some money to give her Aunt for letting her stay with her outside of New York City. The plan was working, she was able to get rid of clothes and stuff she didn’t absolutely need. That way, everything would fit in her small blue Nissan. Her aunt had said that she didn’t need to offer her any money, let alone rent while she stayed with her but that’s not how she was raised. Before they passed, Sierra’s parents stressed being responsible, paying your debts and taking care of yourself. She’s failed at that last one.

That morning, all she had to do was get up use the bathroom before leaving and leave. That was all the science teacher had planned. She even had a new job set up at a middle school substitute teaching next week. She was open to picking up a part time job until she could get a full time one as keeping a work history going and money coming is was more important than ever.

The barrier to her leaving on time was Darius himself. He sat outside of her small blue car waiting for her. Darius was a few inches taller than Sierra but slender and full of mean streaks. One would think a so called ‘short king’ as he often called himself would be a bit nicer to anyone, let alone his wife but no. The bastard beat Sierra, leaving bruises, cuts and made sure never to break or sprain anything enough to need an urgent care or hospital visit. He left to be with his mistress a month after Sierra burnt him with hot grits as he lay sleep in bed.

The divorce as far as property went was split down the middle, even though the end of their relationship was anything but amicable. Sierra hadn’t see him since the divorce decree was handed down in court, but now he sits here blocking her path away from him finally, no longer tied to him.

“What do you want?” The venom in her voice is clear as he moves toward her.

“Just wanted to see you off. I mean, we had something special for a while there you know.” He attempted to touch her face and she smacked his hand away. Darius grabbed it and her other hand as she struggled against him. “You always fought me on everything after becoming a full time teacher. Being full of yourself. Now you’re going to be fat, broke and alone. You thought it was hard to get married before? No man’s going to be looking for you!”

“This is what you came here for Darius?! Just to try and intimidate me?” Sierra pushed forward, making his legs hit the bumper of a sedan parked next to her, he fell back, but grabbed her forearms hard, digging his fingers into them. She yelled and tried to shake him off but he dug deeper. “You’re a sad bastard who left me for a woman who’s now left you for an old rich man. She’s riding his dick somewhere in Italy!” Her knee connected with his crotch and his grip loosened. Sierra was able to wiggle free and run toward the driver’s side of her car, quickly getting in. She started driving only checking her arms when she finally stopped at a McDonald’s.

Her caramel skin was a deep red, nearly purple with blood as he broke the skin on both arms. She made a stop at a CVS and got some bandages to clean and wrap her arms before continuing on her drive. After a few more hours she stopped crying and determined that he wasn’t worth it, he hadn’t been for quite some time. Just be glad you’re no longer tied to him. If he shows up again, I can use a brick on him or whatever I have nearby. Maybe I need to carry one of those switchblades. As she crossed over from Pennsylvania to New York, she wondered how she’d hide the bandages from her Aunt. She hadn’t shared the full story with her, only that he’d become distant, they would get in shouting matches and the cheating. Sierra hadn’t told her about the physical abuse. She didn’t know how to explain why it went on for so long. She barely wanted to tell the one friend she felt safe enough to move in with for that week. Thankfully she didn’t judge her, just supported Sierra. She was eternally grateful for that.

Pulling up to her aunt’s home she was completely unprepared for the man she saw. The opposite of her ex-husband was sitting on her aunt’s porch. Putting his shirt back on. No one said he had to. Sierra thought, her aunt let go of her and pinched her shoulder.

“You’ll burn a hole into the man if you keep staring at him like that.” Ms. Harris teased.

“How could I not look at him? Who is he?” Sierra inquired. She grabbed her purse from the car and walked over with her aunt to the porch.

Din started to get a bit cold after finishing his glass of water and stood to slip his shirt back on. He still felt her eyes on him and turned to see Ms. Harris walking to the house with a caramel beauty who’s calling his new neighbor ‘auntie.’ Maybe she was just here visiting, his eyes cut to her car before focusing back on her as they drew closer to the porch. She’s staying for a little while at least, I’m not in the market for just a short time though.

As she made her way up the stairs, her black shorts bunched between her thighs. In an effort not to stare, his eyes scanned her legs which were thick and jiggled along with the rolls of her belly that it appeared like she was trig to hide under her large purple t-shirt. She was wearing a black sweatshirt which he suspected her would find equally soft arms covered by the fabric. Her face appeared tired, he assumed from the long drive, but there seemed to be a remnant of sadness in her honey eyes with some redness in her cheeks. Her hair was in tight pun with a matching purple scarf tied at the top of her head. It wasn’t a handshake she offered but a small wave and Din couldn’t help but flash a toothy grin and chuckle.

“H-Hi. I’m Sierra, nice to meet you. Seems you’ve met my Aunt Mae already.” Though clearly nervous, her voice had a dulcet tone to it that had Din exhale to keep from clearing his throat to make it too obvious. He raised his hand and returned her small wave, stepping forward to close the distance. He looked down at her, keeping his grin.

“I’m Din. Your aunt, Ms. Harris has been so welcoming to me and my son Grogu. It’s our first day here. Pleasure to meet you Sierra.”

He is taller and broader up close and his hands are….this man appears to be massive in every sense. Even his voice feels like it’s wrapping around me. Am I okay? My shorts are halfway in my crotch and I know my eyes are puffy and red along with my entire face. This is one of the days, I wish I had more melanin so everything from earlier in the day wouldn’t be on my damn face.

“Well dear, you mind helping me make some dinner while Din keeps an eye on the kids? You missed lunch.” Ms. Harris elbows Sierra in the side and she winces as her aunt’s arm grazes her forearm.

“Sure, lead the way. Um, are you staying for dinner Din?” Sierra asked and Din nodded with Johnnie Mae adding that of course he was, he bought her groceries as a thank you for watching little Grogu for a few hours.

“I really do appreciate it Ms. Harris. I was able to get a lot done in the house so we’ll be set for our first night in the house. The kids we be fine until dinner’s ready.” Rolling his shoulders back, he puts his hands in his pockets and his grin becomes a smile. Sierra’s lips part slightly but no sound comes out, she really hopes nothing came out. It didn’t but her aunt is ever watchful of their interaction and leads her niece into the kitchen. Din turns to the side to watch Sierra walk away, paying special attention to her wide hips and plump backside. I think I should find out how long she’ll be here. If she needs to leave, maybe I can convince her to come back through and visit. Such thoughts were distracting Din from the children and he heard a cry. Delia was sitting in the grass giving a dirty look to both Grogu and Quinton. “Well, I am a man of my word. Let me see what’s going on.” As he made his way down the stairs, Johnnie Mae peeped at the door to Mae sure Din was out of earshot.

“Tell me what you think, I mean I was going to set you up with that boy Leon because he seemed nice, but Din is a grown man. Good and grown man dear. I don’t see a ring and-“

“It’s too soon I can’t even think about that right now. Especially today, I look an entire mess.” And that rat bastard fucked up my arms. Even if my arms were fine, I’m not even wearing my cute leggings. Damn.

“I didn’t ask you all that girl.” Johnnie Mae got out a pot and threw in some chicken broth followed two bags of vegetable medleys complete with carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. “I asked you what you thought. I understand you might not feel like you’re ready. Doesn’t mean you can look.”

Sighing, Sierra washed her hands, got the chicken out of the fridge and started seasoning it before plopping it in a frying pan to cook in some butter. “He’s the complete opposite of my ex-husband. Which is entirely welcome. I just don’t know if I can….” Johnnie Mae hip bumped her niece as an indication of getting a non-answer. Sierra sighed again, “I’d climb him like a tree auntie. I’m not ready, but if I was at all. He would be the first choice.”

“Just need to know your tastes have changed. No more assholes Sierra.” Johnnie Mae laughed and so did Sierra, shaking her head. On that she agreed. The pair finished up dinner making homemade chicken noddle soup. Something that everyone ate two bowels of. Din and Grogu ate three. Delia and Quinton were picked up by their parents when the sun started setting around five in the evening. They thanked Ms. Harris and hugged her before introducing themselves to Din. They suggested that Ms. Harris could watch little Grogu before and after school. That way Grogu could play with Delia and Quinton as they likely were going to go to the same elementary school. The family departed leaving Din, Grogu, Johnnie Mae and Sierra.

Din suggested he could wash the dishes and Sierra rejected his help because he was a guest. Technically she was too, but she’d be living here. It was decided that he would wash and she would dry.

Grogu found a comfy spot on the couch as Ms. Harris sat next to him. “Little G, we’re going to watch a classic me and you. Look at this.” She turned on ‘Winnie the Pooh.’ Ms. Harris started singing along and Grogu joined in, bobbing their heads side to side.

Din’s hands were covered in soapy water, scrubbing the dishes before rising them and handing them to Sierra to dry. They chatted about the merits of Pooh and Piglet’s adventures. They laughed that before the episode was over, both Ms. Harris and Grogu were asleep on the couch and arm wrapped around each other. Din snapped a few pictures with his phone. Sierra hesitated, but asked if he could send her the pictures he took. Din was going to suggest that she take her own, but understood that she was asking for his number without saying it. Trying to be subtle. That’s cute of her. He agreed and send her the pictures, the small smile on her face felt like a part of a curtain had been pulled back.

Back at the sink, dishes slowly made their way into the cabinets. Sierra’s sleeves were getting wet and it made her arms itchy so she pulled them up, and reached for the plate Din was handing and she took the plate. She started drying and looked down at her forearms, some blood had soaked through. Panic set in for the second time today, though not from fear of her safety. Instead it was that the easy laughter would stop, there was nothing funny about her arms or what had made them that way. Din stopped washing and wiped his wet hands on his pants.

“You don’t have to tell me how it happened. Just…are you safe Sierra? Is the person who did that after you?” Keeping his voice flat was the only way not to yell, he shouldn’t yell at her. It would be misdirected. It looked like they were fresh maybe even today. She looked up at him and the brightness was gone from them, only panic. Is that why she came here? How fall far had she driven? She did seem to have a lot of stuff in her car.

“No. Thankfully I’ll never see him again. He has no reason to find me. That ended six months ago. I’m…” Closing her eyes, she swallowed the saliva building in her throat. “Divorced. Six months ago. He was…just the worst. Could you just…”

“I’m not going to act like I didn’t see them. If don’t want me to say anything it’s not mine to tell. But does she know?” His eyes shift over to the couch before refocusing on her. He’d rather know this bastard’s name, just in case but she didn’t say it and now isn’t the time to press. He hesitated, but placed a hand between her shoulder blades. Sierra flinched but when Din began to pull his arm back she turned and reached for his hand.

“Please don’t do that. I’m not fragile. I know you’re not going to do anything I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have touched-“

“Then you don’t say sorry either.” Sighing, she looked down at his hand and held it as to shake it. “Let’s start over. Please Din and I’ll tell her. I kinda have to with these.” A weak smile matched a soft chuckle. He missed the smile he’d seen when he sent her pictures a few minutes ago. Shaking her hand, he nodded.

“I won’t apologize then, but I disagree, you are fragile. It’s a fact for now. You won’t always be, but it’s okay.” He didn’t release her hand. “Is it alright if I hug you and then take a look at your arms? You have more bandages?” Sierra nods and doesn’t speak, she folds her arms around Din’s torso. His hands returned to her back, rubbing it slowly and started stepping side to side, rocking her. Short whimpers came from her, quieting as the pair swayed.

“I have more in the car, but I can take care of that. Just a little more. A little while longer.” Sierra was conflicted in asking him to continue to hold her, but she didn’t want to let go. She felt it was selfish to ask this of him upon just meeting him today. He just moved in with his son no less. That’s plenty on his plate.

Din didn’t answer her. He didn’t release her either. They continued to remain in each other’s arms as Johnnie Mae peered over her shoulder from the couch. Now truly aware of why her niece has said she’s not ready, she wouldn’t push Sierra.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed in the kitchen embracing but Sierra let go first citing that Din should get little Grogu home, thanking him. He told her it wasn’t an issue and told her he was going to bring in her bags before leaving. She blinked and Ms. Harris told him the keys were near the door. The older woman shot a look at Sierra warning her to stay put. After bringing them in, Din said goodnight and scooped up Grogu taking him home.

A pivotal first impression had been made.

Chapter One. Chapter Three

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