#he keeps being pushed aside and shut down and called stupid for just doing his job

[gyumazing]

Nishimura Riki

In which your mom gave you a pack of condoms during dinner

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Pairings: Ni-ki × Reader

Genre: FLUFFY fluff (very suggestive ⚠️)

Word count: 1.8k

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"Baby, I missed yo—" Ni-ki's greeting was cut short as he suddenly saw your painfully red face the moment he opened his door, preparing to engulf you in a hug. He bit his tongue back, looking like he was about to laugh, but was courteous enough to try and hold it in—which, obviously, failed miserably. His stupid face made your already red face even redder. "Babe..." he called out apologetically as you made your way inside his room, immediately plopping down on his bed, covering your face in embarrassment.

You felt gentle hands patting your head. "I don't think it's that bad," you heard him snicker a little, so you groaned.

You felt his weight shift the foam mattress as he sat down beside you. He combed your hair a little, just enough for him to keep sight of your closed eyes.

"It's perfectly normal... I think?" That was more like a question for himself rather than reassurance for your already ashamed and embarrassed self. Nonetheless, he plopped next to you now, kissing your closed eyes softly. "I mean, there's no way they won't know what we're doing when we're all alone together in he—" Ni-ki half-groaned, half-chuckled, not being able to finish his sentence as you rose up from his bed, wringing his neck.

You wailed.

"Have you seen the teasing looks on their faces earlier?!" You closed your eyes, shaking your head as you recalled the previous encounter with your family at the dinner table; your mom casually handing you a packet of condoms as you bit down on your last piece of toast; your brother Heeseung snickering at you with a knowing look; everyone watching you intently with a smug expression. It was the most horribly nerve-wracking experience you'd ever had. The shame, mortification, and shock brought upon you from that family dinner alone were probably enough to take at least 10 years off your lifespan.

You groaned. You cringed so bad that you found yourself dropping like a soulless sack down onto your boyfriend's bed again, hitting your head onto his laid-out biceps with a thud.

Ni-ki chuckled, which of course earned a death glare from you. He poked your nose.

"It's not that bad... They're looking out for you, and at least they didn't say anything, right?" Ni-ki's pathetic attempt at cheering you up involved playing with your hair as he nibbled on your jaw.

You pushed his head aside resentfully.

How dare he act so casually at your misery when he's the root of it all?

"I mean, it's not like they're wrong. I haven't bought new packs yet, and we could totally use those, you know, babe? That was so thoughtful of your m—"

"Shut up!" You covered your ears, rising up from his bed. He chuckled, his pretty boxy smile creeping onto his face.

He grabbed you by your waist and effortlessly pulled you back into bed. He rested his chin on the gap between your shoulder and neck, spooning you in his hold.

"Okay, okay, no teasing," he surrendered, biting your neck again, earning a gasp and a sharp cuss from you.

He chuckled at your reaction.

"I freaking hate you so much sometimes, Nishimura Riki..." You got up from his hold and flipped him off. But you suddenly let out an inhumane squeal as you found yourself lifted in the air, Ni-ki carrying you easily as if you weighed not more than a dime.

"That's mean. No flipping your boyfriend off..." He warned, ushering your frail and helpless figure next to the wall, pinning your back against it. He towered over you, dark eyes lingering a little too long on your quivering lips. "Do you want to take that back, princess? Hmmm?" he pressed against you, making your eyes widen.

"Let me go..." You tried to act tough.

He shook his head.

"Try that again."

"Let me go..." You started. "Please... baby..." You added in the quietest manner humanely possible, not wanting to have your pride and ego entirely crushed.

Ni-ki presses himself against you again, making you inhale sharply onto his chest. He wraps his hands on your waist.

"I can't hear you, baby." He lifts your chin up delicately, firming your gaze to meet his longing and hazy ones. "Louder."

You scoffed.

Absolutely not.

You kicked him off of you slightly, but it made matters even worse because now he held you even tighter, hands practically caging your waist.

"So bratty..." He whispered, kissing your jaw, pushing you back onto the bed on your back. You gasped, heartbeat racing so fast in anticipation.

Ni-ki looked at you with a smug grin on his face.

"Cat got your tongue, babe?" He tilted his head to the side with a coy grin. You immediately tried to open your mouth to spit out a comeback, a word, something that could make you appear less pathetic beneath his towering frame—anything—but it seemed as though your voice betrayed you. So, you lay there like a deer caught in headlights, gulping cautiously to disregard any bubbling feelings inside you.

Ni-ki giggled, his expression softening as he bit his lip affectionately—a habit of his whenever he found you cute or endearing.

To your surprise, he plopped down next to you again, pulling you into a cuddle. And you wanted to berate yourself for feeling disappointed that he had stopped somehow.

He kissed your forehead.

"Disappointed?" He asked as if he had read your mind. You gasped a little at the accusation, then rolled your eyes as he grinned like an idiot.

Damn him.

Ni-ki fixated his gaze on yours again, an intense look plastered on his face, as if he were studying every pore on your face, etching every speck of detail into his memory. And you couldn't help but sigh in fondness and safety having him so close like this.

"I love you..." He muttered, closing his eyes for so long you almost thought he had drifted off to dreamland. "I'm so happy you came into my life..." He added casually, completely unaware of how loudly your heart was thumping along with his warm, shallow breaths... completely unaware of what he was doing to you and your sanity.

You played with his hair gently, still processing and buffering at the sudden intimacy—not that it was anything new. Not that he didn't bombard you with his sappiness every freaking hour of the day.

"Okay, I was about to sulk that you didn't bother to return my 'I love you,' but I guess this is your way of saying it back." He said contentedly, mewling at the way your fingers scratched his scalp.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips.

Riki... He was just so silly sometimes. He presented himself in the media as a "cool" and "nonchalant" guy when in fact, he was a loverboy through and through. A silly, sappy boy who craved affection 24/7.

A boyfriend who never got tired of your constant grunts whenever he professed his love to you, and whenever you shrugged his words off, too scared to actually admit that you were in love with him too—something your conscious mind would excuse as simple "puppy love." But days of dating turned into weeks, turned into months, and now you recently marked your fourth year together. You know, it's just shocking. You never saw yourself dating that troublesome kid from elementary school who always made his rich parents pay the school to move up to the next grade, let alone dating him for 4 whole years.

It's just... wow.

"Babe?" You muttered, still playing with Ni-ki's hair as he lay motionless beside you. If it weren't for his low "hmm?" and a sudden peck on your cheek, you'd think he had actually fallen asleep.

You brushed stray hairs out of his face.

This boy loves you.

You love this boy too.

So damn much.

"Ni-ki..." you bit your tongue back in haste. "I love you." You felt your stomach churn weirdly at the projection of Ni-ki's smug expression in your mind the moment those three words escaped your mouth. You waited for his reaction dreadfully—you waited for the familiar menacing grin to appear on his cold and intimidating face—but instead, he remained unmoving.

Then, sniffs.

Sniffs?

Crying?

"Hey, are you okay? Baby? Are you okay?" You got up off the bed in panic, scanning him entirely to check if anything was hurting him. He looked fine, except for his closed eyes that brought tears rolling down his pretty cheeks. "Ni-ki?" You shook him gently.

To your surprise, he pulled you into a cuddle again, chuckling a little.

"Are you... okay?" you asked, more concerned now.

"You said 'I love you' back to me..." He whispered into your neck. You couldn't help but sit up again with a look of disbelief on your face, but Ni-ki pulled you back into a cuddle faster than you could utter anything. Is he seriously crying now... because you said I love you? You rarely said it, yes. But this was definitely not the first time. "This is the 5th time you've said it after our 4 years of dating. Honestly, I had made peace with the fact that I'd only ever hear you say it during our anniversaries..." He said, groaning a little—probably due to his self-awareness of how love-stricken and smitten he sounded—which he obviously was, in fact.

"So it surprised you so much to the point that you... cried?" You said in disbelief.

Ni-ki pouted.

"Hey... don't make fun of me." He bit your neck gently.

You hissed at the feeling of his teeth digging into your skin.

Come to think of it, you were almost always the center of teasing and you never really had the chance to get back at him. Whenever you did try, you always ended up in the hole you dug. Like that one time when you sent him a "not so very appropriate" photo of you while they were touring Asia, trying to rile him up, but ended up being severely punished for it the moment he returned home.

Even if you did try teasing him about something, you knew he would have something to tease you back about.

You huffed.

"What are you thinking?" Ni-ki interrupted your thoughts.

"Oh nothing." You huffed again. "Well, for your sake, I won't make fun of you..." It was a lie. It was mostly for your sake.

Ni-ki raised his eyebrows.

"But?" He asked.

"What do you mean 'but'?" You feigned innocence.

"Don't pretend now." He said impatiently, biting your neck again. You pushed his head aside while giggling.

"But, I will use it in case of emergencies..." You grinned.

"Emergencies?"

"Oh you know... When you make fun of me, now I have something to tease you back with." You sang, hands creeping onto his. "So, don't go around teasing me every time, goddammit!" You warned.

But instead of being intimidated, Ni-ki's grin grew even bigger.

He nodded.

"Okay deal." He poked your side. "We don't talk about me crying and I won't ask what flavor of condom your mom bought you." He wiggled his brows.

You groaned.

___

[kieumy]

i’m in pain

someone made a compilation of every roman angst moment oh we are eating SO good tonight

[leeny-leens]

Knives Out (Wounds In) | BCJ x Reader

Pairing: bsf!Barty Crouch Jr x bsf! Reader

Summary: You accidentally stab Barty and he...asks for more?

Warnings: BLOOD, STABBING, INJURIES, Barty has issues,I've never dressed a thigh wound before, description of injury being taken care off, Barty likes pain (and blood), proceed with caution okay I'm sleep deprived

Content: Barty and the Reader are a little unhinged, Barty is having a crisis, Barty being called doll (courtesy of @vun3r4b13xwrites for this brain rot), not proofread or edited, Barty makes like one really dark joke abt dying but it's not too dark

WC: 3.83k

AN: this was inspired by a post of @unconventional-lawnchair and honestly idek what happened, it somehow spiraled into being something much longer and ??? than anticipated so have this. Also tagging @esotericloser BCS ya said ya want it <3

Being friends with Barty meant that there wasn't much that could actually traumatize you anymore when it came to gory horror. Oh no, you’re bound lose that ability quite quickly in his company, with the way he walked around looking like a splasher horror victim half of the time. He barley ever had an explanation for it either, always shrugging and mumbling something incoherent about where the blood on him came from.

So really, you'd say you're pretty desensitized when it came to blood and injuries, especially when it came to Barty being bloodied and injured.

Nothing however, could have prepared you for the sight of your very own dagger piercing his thigh, blood spilling and splashing on the ground and wall.

It's your worst nightmare come true; a loved one injured and bloodied because of you and your stupidity, though Barty would go on a tangent, chiding you for the self deprecating notion of that thought.

The boy in question, you just noticed, stood by the open door, his face pulled into a blend between amusement and a grimace of pain as he stared between the dagger and your frozen form on your bed.

“Damn doll, when I said your stare could throw daggers at me I didn't think you'd take it seriously,” he said, painfully failing to conceal the wince in his voice as he joked.

The sound of his voice was apparently all your brain needed to reboot itself and jumpstart again. Immediately, you hurled yourself up from the bed, standing by his side in a few quick strides as you crouched down to examine the injury on his thigh.

“Merlin I’m sorry Bee, I was doing that stupid Charms assignment and- and you just came in and I panicked and oh my god are you gonna die?” there was seemingly no stopping you the moment you began to speak, the words stumbling out in no rhyme or rhythm as you tried to remember what little you’d learned about first aid.

In your panic, there wasn't much you remembered aside for needing to stop the bleeding somehow and making sure to keep his leg raised high, or was it keep it low to prevent bleeding? You couldn't recall it, your mind too riddled with guilt and terror at the vast amount of blood staining the carpet.

“You can't die on me,” you whimpered, tears barley held at bay “They're gonna expell me if they find out I killed you-”

The sudden realization of who your best friend was hit you harder than any hex you've sustained in your lifetime before you stared up at him with terror blown eyes “Oh my god your father is sending me to Azkaban for killing his only heir.”

This was evidently the straw that broke the camels back, Barty finally doubled over from laughter, his barking voice probably resonating through the entirety of the dormitory. His laughter quickly turned into pressed coughs as he tried to straighten back up again, mild gasps of pain escaping him in-between. Quickly, you're on your feet again, gently yet firmly guiding him to your bed and hissing at him to not put any weight on his injured leg.

To his credit, he let you push him around like a pliant ragdoll, following your instructions and keeping his pretty mouth shut aside for a few pained noises here there. His eyes flickered between you and the dagger, regarding the latter with a glimmer of fascination and you could tell it took everything in him to not poke at the metal protruding from his flesh.

“Relax doll,” he said in an attempt to reassure you “’M not gonna die yeah? Tis but a scratch.” As if trying to convince you, he tapped the dagger lightly, smiling at you with that wide expression, his lips pulled apart so much it brought his dimple out. “See? I've survived worse,” he added, and to your utter dismay, it did help calm you down.

“Right, it's probably worse than it looks like” you muttered, taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself before finally gathering your thoughts to help him. “Okay, stay right there and don't move okay?” you threw him a warning glare before disappearing into the bathroom, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure he was following your instructions. You knew staying still was hard for Barty, his natural inclination to always be in motion was one of the biggest hurdles he faced in his day to day life. He couldn't sit still for longer than a few minutes, not without bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers against the nearest surface or hell, rocking back and forth. Don't get him started on people telling him to be still, that somehow made it much harder to comply than if he tried to do it on his own.

He was however, trying his best to stay still, probably to not worry you more than he already had, and you appreciated his cooperation immensely.

Returning back to his side, you knelt down at the bedside and set down a plain white box and opened it, revealing various bandages, potions and vials along side bandaids and scissors of different types and sizes.

Barty decided to stay silent, watching your movements with an attentive, hawk-like gaze and arched his eyebrows in surprise as you grabbed the biggest pair of scissors, only to bring it to the hem of his pant leg, quickly cutting through the dark fabric.

“You know,” he said amused, watching you cut apart his pants “This is not how I imagined you undressing me would go, could've taken me out to dinner first at least.”

“You're so lucky you already have a stab wound,” you replied dryly, moving the fabric away to reveal the pale skin of thigh and barley held back your grimace at the sight of the dagger lodged into it. “Otherwise that comment would've gotten you one.” you grabbed a whole bunch of gauzes and disinfectant, slowly trying to assess how bad the wound was in order to decide your next course of action.

This was the part you'd feared the most, the one where you pulled the dagger out.

As if he’d read your mind, Barty reached out to take your hand into his, bringing it to his lips so he could press a kiss on your knuckles. “It's gonna be okay doll,” he murmured softly “I trust you, you're bloody brilliant and you don't have to be scared of this.”

It was comical really, how he'd gotten hurt because of you and yet was the one to offer you comfort and reassurance. Had this been anyone else, you would've scoffed and thrashed against the gesture, but this was Barty, your Barty, who'd watched you overcome every obstacle in your life for the last six years, your Barty who knew you like the back of his hand and studied you like you were the biggest mystery in the universe to be unraveled. You could only nod in agreement, squeezing his hand tightly as you steadied your breath to pull out the dagger.

You vaguely remembered how Madam Pomfrey would talk up injured students to distract them from procedures, and you decided that if the matron of the hospital wing did it, it couldn't be that stupid of an idea to try out.

“Why did you come into my room?”

you asked suddenly, and he leaned back into the nest of pillows you had propped against your headboard.

He shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. “No reason, just wanted to see my favourite person,” despite all the years with him as your best friend, the response still managed to draw out an over exaggerated eyeroll from you, one that did nothing to mask the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

You questioned him some more, asking about his day and what he was going to do, and because this was your Barty, you knew he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to talk your ear off, the dagger in his thigh quickly forgotten. Fortunately for you, that meant you could pull it out with one smooth movement, granting Barty barley any time to register the pain before you began to press a mountain of gauzes against the wound. The white fabric quickly became a soaked, scarlet mess and you could hear his breath hitch at the sight, not the way it would've from pain, but rather from something akin to speechlessness. He watched you press against the wound, switching out gauze after gauze whenever it became unusable after soaking up too much blood, and he was sure the blood rushing to his head at the sight of your fingers gleaming with the red liquid of him was significantly more fatale than the stab wound to his thigh. There was just something so primitively alluring about the sight, your face contorted into a grimace of worry and concentration as you applied moderate yet firm pressure against his thigh, not minding how dirty your hands became in the process. It didn't help that it was him sullying your pretty hands, and he swore his soul left his body when you moved a stray strand of hair out of your face, cursing when you felt the blood smear on your cheek.

He wanted nothing more but to lean forward and wipe it off, perhaps clean it up with his own mouth just to see how he tasted on you, but he remained rigidly seated like a statue, his mind a battle field of desire and rationality.

You were none the wiser to his predicament, taking his sudden silence as a side effect of pain or shock. You took to murmuring encouragement and random things about your own day, partially to fill the silence and partially to make sure the boy was still rooted into reality instead of floating into the realm of dark memories, just on the off chance that the sight of his own blood and the feeling of pain brought them forward. You told him about the stupid Charms project you’d taken up for extra credit, letting a dagger float around in a coordinated pattern, and how you'd been sitting at it for hours on end before he barged into your room, startling you into sending the dagger straight at him. He made the occasional grunt of agreement or let out a snort at a particularly funny joke you cracked, and after a few minutes that felt like an eternity, the bleeding finally seemed to stop enough for you to be able to actually inspect the wound.

It looked worse than it actually is, not too deep and not too long, and your entire body slumped in relief at the realization. For a moment, you rested your head in your hands, muttering thanks to whatever might hear you. “Thank everything you're not gonna die,” you said once you looked at Barty again, whose attention had been on you the entire time. “What a pity,” he replied almost too plainly, yet the grin on his face betrayed the self deprecating statement. “Here I was looking forward to bringing joy into my father's life for once,” you rolled your eyes so hard you worried they might actually fall out, and you could only lean forward to hit his shoulder with a warning scoff. “Don't be mean to my best friend,” you chided “That's my job, I can't afford to lose it in this economy.”

“So true, the prices are ridiculously high these days,” he mused, eyes glimmering as he watched you disinfect the wound and bandage it up.

“Exactly! I mean come on, 5 galleons for a pack of chocolates frogs? Do they think all of us are made of trust funds and old money?” Barty is unable to hold in his snort at your statement, reminiscing how you haven't let it go ever since your last trip to Hogsmeade nearly a month ago. If anyone knew how to hold a grudge, it was his doll for sure.

Absentmindedly, your fingers traced slow circles around the red, angry skin of the gash, careful to not press or touch anything that might elicit unnecessary pain. Barty’s entire body went stiff at the soft touch, so gentle and soothing, like he was made of porcelain and too fragile, the lightest press of your thumb against his thigh a breaking hazard. It was a stark contrast to how he was usually treated, but he’d come to accept it from you. While he hated being seen as vulnerable and weak- because he was everything but that-, he found himself relishing your touch and care, for it stemmed not from pity or underestimation but genuine care and love. And oh how he soaked up every ounce of affection you gave him, starved of it for his whole life but finding you there to give it to him like a steady stream flowing from the creek of your heart.

You took his stiffness as a sign of discomfort and swiftly withdrew your hand to stop the ministrations, almost missing the imperceptible whine of dissatisfaction that barely escaped the boy’s lips. When you stared at him with a puzzled look on your face, he greeted you with one of his own, cleverly covering for his mindless slip-up.

When it seemed like he hadn’t actually made any sound, you were content to get back to treating the wound, your fingers brushing over the tools in the first aid kit.

After realising the wound wasn't life threatening, your mind had cleared up significantly, rendering you able to think and remember what you needed to do to properly take care of the gash. You grabbed a bottle of blue disinfectant alongside more of the gauze, dousing the latter in the blue solution before pressing it against the injury.

The lack of warning, coupled with the sudden action, had Barty hissing and bucking in pain, even if the momentary sting left an aftertaste of pleasure in its wake.

You glanced up at him, your expression one of sheepish apology, before dapping the gauze carefully on the cut.

“’M so sorry, just a bit more yeah doll?” you murmured, your other hand coming up to rub along his knee. Barty wasn't sure what knocked out the breathe out of his lungs; the endearment or the touch or perhaps the sincerity and care that he could feel seeping into his cold and hollow bones with every second he spent in your presence. If getting stabbed by you meant he could have you this close, this warm and soft and attentive all for him? Merlin, he'd let you stab him over and over again, like he was your personal pin cushion.

He tried to keep the noise to a minimum, alongside the flinching in fear of losing your touch. The last thing he wanted was for you to let go of him, as selfish as that sounded. He quite liked having your full attention on him, like nothing else in the world mattered as much as he did.

Selfish and self-centred? Maybe.

Did he give a fuck? Not in the slightest.

A tap against his knee brought him out of his reveries, and his eyes met yours in a questioning manner. “Whadya say, darlin’?” he asked, trying his best to sound casual “Too busy enjoying your hands on me.”

His comment drew an amused chuckle from you, much too used to his flirtations. You never quite knew whether he meant it or not, all those playful jabs and nudges that toyed the line between friendship and something more, yet neither of you made a move to explore that territory, too afraid to lose what you had.

“I said I’m putting some of that scarring ointment on the wound,” you said, repeating the statement that had been lost on him. You’d already grabbed the small tub with the greenish paste. When you uncapped it, dipping your finger into it to apply it to his wound, you were surprised by his sudden recoiling, as if the mere notion of applying the ointment would sear his skin down to his bones.

“Bee?” You asked, surprised to see him flinch away from you.

He was mortified at his own reaction, not having had enough time to control his movements. He didn’t quite know how he could explain this to you, why he flinched away when you’ve been nothing but a perfect caretaker, inspecting and treating his injury.

Just as he began to sputter out a messy apology and an explanation, realisation dawned on you. You weren’t stupid, just like Barty knew you better than anyone else, you had the privilege of knowing him like no one else had. You’d watched him get into fights more often than you could count. You’d talked to him plenty about it of course, unable to just stand by as he destroyed himself, body and soul, over and over again. What had bothered you the most was him never properly taking care of his injuries, opting to let them fester and scar until his entire body was littered with gashes and cuts of various sizes. Over time, you’d come to understand that he didn’t necessarily enjoy the act of fighting itself, but rather how alive he felt with each punch, with each crack and broken bone. The scars were a testament to his existence, proof that he hadn’t been complete worn numb by life and its hardships. He liked the reminders, liked to look at them and trace along their edges whenever he felt himself slip away into the darkest corners of his mind, and you’d figured that this gash was no exception.

“You want it to scar,” you said, not a question but rather a fact. You watched as colour rushed into his pale face, mouth falling open and closing in a comical fashion. He could muster up nothing more than a nod, knowing that trying to talk his way out of this wasn’t an option.

Softly, you traced along the edge of the gash, your eyes never once leaving his. “Why?” There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in your voice as you posed the question, just pure curiosity and the need to understand him.

Silence blanketed the room as you patiently waited for him to answer your question. His eyebrows furrowed in that typical Barty manner, the one that made the silver piercings in his eyebrows more visible, catching the lights around him. When he spoke up, his voice was quiet, almost too quiet, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter both you and him.

“I want your mark on me,” from all the answers he could’ve given you, this one was the last one you’d expected, yet somehow the most perfect Barty answer of them all. His love had always been that way, all teeth and scratches, leaving marks in its wake as evidence that he had been there. In the same fashion, it made sense that he wanted love in the same manner; with marks left on him to prove that he was loved.

It was crazy, really, how much you understood him. It should’ve scared you, weirded you out at least, but no such sensations arised. There was only love and understanding cursing through your body for the boy you called your best friend.

Emboldened by his vulnerability, you found yourself leaning in closer, your lips ghosting over the edge of the gash before pressing them down in a gentle kiss. “It’s alright,” you mumbled “You can keep it Bee, ‘m not judging you.”

His breath hitched at the feeling of your lips pressed so closely to the wound, mind reeling at having you so close, so understanding and so incredibly loving despite him being so himself, a warning in and out of itself.

“Does that mean you’d be down to giving me another one?” He asked jokingly, trying his best to lighten the mood by even an ounce.

“Maybe,” you quipped back, pulling one of the bandaids out to put it over the wound. “If you ask nicely, I might,” you grinned up at him, enjoy in seeing him squirm for once. His eyes drifted to the dagger, mind running wild with anticipation.

“Please?”

“Is that the best you got, doll?”

“Bold statement for someone who just stabbed me,” he retorted “And took off my pants without asking!”

With a snort, you stood up, patting his thigh softly before putting the first and kit on the ground to sit beside him. “Well when you put it that way, I have no choice but to oblige, no?” You grabbed the dagger, twirling it in your hand before you ever so slowly lowered it down to graze the skin of his thigh.

He was completely still beneath your touch, his breath shallow as he waited for your next move. There was no hurry in your movements, the glinting tip of the dagger barely tracing across his flesh. “What do we say when we want something, doll?” You asked, amused by the extreme change in his behaviour. You’d never seen Barty so complacent and mellow in all your years together, much less because of you.

“Please,” he mumbled “Give me another one?” Subconsciously, he’d leaned in closer to you, hazel eyes almost completely swallowed up by the darkness of his pupils.

A small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth, and not wanting to tease him any further, you pressed the blade into his skin.

You watched as he bit his lips, trying to the best of his abilities to not wince in pain and spurred on by the heat of the moment, you closed the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips against his. The sounds of pain he let out were swallowed by your mouth, moving in frenzied hunger as you let the dagger blade dig deeper into his thigh.

In that moment, you realised two things.

One: You were in love with Barty Crouch Junior, your best friend since first year.

Two: You were incredibly and thoroughly fucked, for you would go to the ends of hell for this boy, the same way you knew without a doubt he would do the same.

And here, in the quiet of your dorm room, your mouth on his and the distinct, metallic smell of blood, you didn’t quite mind going to the ends of hell if it meant you could have Barty by your side.

[serejae]

ITS STUPID | BND

pairing : bnd x reader (NO WOONHAK)

genre : fluff

WHAT ! - bnd when your sulky

wc : 1584 | @onedoornet

-

SUNGHO :

- i feel like he would be so confused if he didnt know why you were sulky

- i also feel like he would ask some light questions but wouldnt push you to answer. but if he didnt get a answer he would be so confused

- he would spend the rest of the day reflecting on what he did only to get no answer

- it isnt until night time when you both are laying by each other and arent cuddling that he speaks up because he cant sleep without your cuddles :-|

sungho got home and saw you in the kitchen doing the dishes, normally youd wait for him to come home for dinner to eat together but maybe you werent feeling it. he tried starting a conversation only to get short responses, he then asked if you were okay only to get a hum he noticed the slight pout on your face as you gave these responses. after he got freshened up he went to eat dinner alone with only his thoughts. he replayed his whole day, actually no week, maybe month. but he couldnt seem to put his finger on what you were mad at him for. as he made it to your guys room, he noticed how dark the room was letting him know that you were asleep. he sighed and laid down, and for about 30 minutes he keeps his composure before speaking up “baby..baby!” he shook you gently, you hummed tiredly wondering why your boyfriend was waking you up. “what did i do? just tell me and i’ll apologize but i really cant think of a reason hun” he said propping himself up to look at you. “you left the toilet seat up” you said as you yawned seeming to not care anymore, he groaned and pulled the covers over to his side “now im mad at you”

“made me worry for no reason” he mumbled

RIWOO :

- riwoo is a worried man

- he’ll do everything in his power to try and calm you down so by the time you two cuddle he can get you to spill out why you were sulking

- he hates seeing anything on your face but a smile and would do anything. ANYTHING to get it off if it isnt a smile

- but hes a master manipulator like he’ll plan all this out for the perfect timing

as riwoo left the room after noticing you were not joining him in a few minutes like you said, he saw you sitting at your desk typing away on your keyboard. aside from your beautiful face he noticed the big fat pout on your lip making him furrow his eyebrows. riwoo sat on the couch behind you as you did your assignment watching the pout on your lips sit there making him form a pout on his lips as well. he didnt like seeing you bothered or upset by something, so he decided since he knew you wanted to finish this assignment that instead of stopping you he’d take some of the burden off your shoulders. he massaged your shoulders, gave your favorite snacks, and gave you a peck here and there. he could see the way your shoulders relaxed and how slowly but surely the pout on your lips disappeared. and when it finally disappeared fully he left a fat kiss on them as a celebration on his end, afterwards when you finally finish he takes you to your guys room and massages your head letting the stress rest as he listened to you complain about your day. his lips curved up when you mention how you appreciated him helping you. in response he kissed your forehead

“anytime”

JAEHYUN :

- wee woo wee woo someone call the dramatic police !!

- HE WILL NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP!! literally blows your head off with questions before he can leave you alone

- he cannot stand you being mad at him for more than 1.36 seconds and make it 1.17 seconds if your sulky

- so as soon as he notices something off hes begging for forgiveness even if he doesnt know what he did

jaehyun couldnt LIVE with the fact tjat he made the love of his life mad like no, kill him. and he dont even get him started if he didnt know why. he has a pre generated apology in his mind ready to be said with tears and everything. he continued to follow you around the house naming all the reasons you could be mad at him even the most ridiculous. “is it cause i ate the last ice cream bar?” “or did i snore too loud” “ohhh its cause i sent too many of those emoji reactions huh?” he continued talking before you turned around “no, no and no!” “than what is ittt” he groaned stretching the ‘t’. you sighed and laid down on the couch to relax, only to feel a man ontop of you (GET OFF ME!!!!) “JAEHYUN” you shouted “tell me” he repeated and he laid ontop of you. “remember when i said i didnt like liz?” you said giving up this whole cold persona. feeling him nod you continue “you said ‘she isnt that bad!’ but your suppose to agree with anything i say and dislike anything i dislike!” it goes silent for a bit then you hear him go “OHHHHH, noted”

now hes a certified hater with you ❤️

TAESAN :

- like sungho doesnt pester you too much about it

- but unlike sungho he doesnt ask questions but observes your moves, and once he sees the pout he knows hes OUT (laugh.)

- anyways literally spend the whole day spacing out wondering what the fuck did he do, he starts reading old conversations you both had. he makes his brain a computer system tracing back each step (while keeping a straight face)

- he folds when you two are having dinner and its silent. he canr take it anymore and ask you if he did anything wrong in the most nonchalant way he can (hes about to start tweaking)

he spent his whole shower standing there backtracking all his steps, from when he woke up to when he got home. after he got out he proceeded to stay in the bathroom and sit there for 25 minutes and 19 seconds scrolling through your messages to see if he had said something wrong trying to find a mood change for him to have to come home to a pouty partner. after finding nothing he sighed coming out of the bathroom and joins you for dinner. the dinner is silent, your peacefully eating but he pokes at his food not being able to get your sulky face out of his mind. he puts his fork down before looking at you “please tell me what i did” he said plainly trying to mask the fact that hes going to explode. you look at him and tilt your head confused, he picks up on your body language and speaks up again “i dont like seeing you pout, especially if it was something i did, did someone do something did i do something?”. he sees your face change when you realize what he was talking about “you never would believe what my mom did to me today…” you continued

he sighed out of relief realizing he didnt do anything and listened with a smile on his face enjoying his dinner.

LEEHAN :

- he would find it entertaining…(sawry)

- but definitely would take you seriously after having a little analysis in his fish brain he ask you why you were mad

- if it’s something silly hes stares at you for a bit processing it again (fish brain) and lets out a laugh making you more mad

- he composes himself and puts on serious mode. proceeds to indulge in whatever you were mad about, as long as ur happy 🔥

leehan didnt expect for the first thing that he would come home to was a sulky s/o. he had walked home to a quiet house wondering where you were, since you didnt greet him at the door like you normally did. walking into the shared bedroom he saw you wrapped in the blanket without your face visible, walking over to your side he saw you scrolling on your phone with a slight pout on your face. he chuckled a bit catching your attention. when you see him laughing it only makes you more angrier, so you flip to the direction facing away from leehan. your reaction suprised him, he stood there for a moment wondering what he did. he sighed a bit before sitting down on the bed behind you as he rubbed your back, “whats my baby sulky for?” he asked softly. “it wasnt very nice of you to call the fish i sent you ugly.” you said huffing. he then remembered that you two wanted to adopt a fish together and were actively looking for one, and it wasnt until this morning that you sent him a link and he cringed at the photo of the fish. it wasnt the most pleasant to look that in his opinion…after finding out the reason your upset with him, he cant help but let out a laugh. after seeing your face to him not taking you seriously he’d panic a little before drowning you in kisses “we can get the fish, even if its a little strange…”

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

After my conversation with Dawn, I decide I need to talk to Ash as soon as possible. Mostly to take advantage of the clarity and confidence boost while it lasts, but also because I really don’t want to deal with yet another awkward Monday morning. I rush into the apartment to shower and change, and am back out again within twenty minutes.

During the walk to his apartment, I rehearse what I want to say, mumbling to myself as I navigate the quiet streets of the Spice District, trying to figure out the words now so I don’t get stuck and stumble when I see him. Finding the balance between being honest without having to dive into the entirety of my fucked-up past is more difficult that I expected. Almost as though, once I open that door, everything wants to come crashing out like a cartoon closet where a mountain of junk has been stashed in order to make a room appear clean and organized.

When I arrive at his building, step off the elevator and stand in front of his door, I stop, realizing I’ve shown up completely unannounced. “What am I doing?” I mutter, “Why didn’t I call first?” I start pacing anxiously around the hallway, trying to decide whether to knock or whether to leave and text him and then come back. I don’t know if he’s home, or if he even wants to see me. Does anyone even answer the door if they’re not expecting anyone? I don’t.

It takes me at least ten minutes before I finally decide to just knock. If he doesn’t answer, then I’ll text him, but I can’t leave now that I’m here. I walk back to the door, whispering to myself, “Ready… 1… 2… 3.” And then I knock.

It’s Lex who opens the door. She understandably looks surprised to see me, “Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I just need to talk to Ash. Is he here?”

She gives me a concerned look before nodding, “Yeah, he’s in here.”

She escorts me down the hall to the living room where Ash is laying back on the couch looking tired and despondent.

“Hey,” I greet him anxiously, trying to gauge how he feels about my showing up.

“Hi,” he doesn’t give me much, but he does seem curious at least.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

Lex takes the cue to leave us, pointing back toward the hallway, “I’ll just go hang out in my room.”

Ash nods a thank you to her as I walk over and sit next to him on the familiar yellow sofa. His feet are up, and he lets them come to rest against the side of my leg. I don’t know if the gesture is intentional or not because his eyes stay down, watching his fingers as they pick at the polish on his nails, but regardless, the contact gives me the courage to start speaking.

“I’m really sorry, Ash. It’s not fair, the way I’ve been treating you.”

“No, it’s not,” he says pointedly, “but go on.” He sits up and crosses his arms defensively, but his eyes are soft when he looks over, encouraging me to continue.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, “Okay look, aside from Dawn, I’ve lost everyone who’s ever been important to me. And I've developed a bad habit of shutting people out, keeping them at a distance. I guess I thought that by not dating you, I could keep from getting too close. As if it would prevent me from losing you too, or maybe I thought it would hurt less if I did. I’m not sure. But refusing to date you because we worked together just felt like an easy way to keep a distance that felt safe. It all backfired though. I fell for you anyway. And it hurt like hell when you walked out on me. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve been stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” he says softly, giving me a small half-smile but still looking apprehensive, “So, where does that leave us?”

And here it is, the moment I usually freak out and tell him we should just be friends. Even now I have to fight back the part of me that wants to shut down and push him away, that is convinced it’s better to be alone. Perhaps that part of me did keep me safe once, when I was young, but Dawn’s right, it doesn’t anymore. We left that place a long time ago, and for good reason, but I’ve continued to carry it around with me. I need to figure out how to let it go because I’ll never have a future if I keep myself stuck in the past. So, for the first time, I tell him the truth about how I feel, “I really care about you, Ash, and the connection we have, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the hell out of me, but I don’t want to run from it anymore. To be honest, I don’t know the first thing about being a good boyfriend, but I’d like to try. With you. If you’ll still have me.”

To my surprise, I feel lighter. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. A weight lifts from my shoulders, and I feel almost giddy as he looks up at me, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“You really want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do I still have to quit my job?” he asks.

“No,” I laugh, “please don’t. I really like working with you every day.”

“Good, me too,” he says with a smile, his body finally relaxing as he leans over to kiss me.

We both laugh as he tries to keep his lips on mine while he turns and climbs onto my lap. Once he’s settled, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, burying his face in my neck, his soft kisses sending a chill down my back and causing goosebumps to raise on my arms.

“Is that a yes?” I ask.

He pulls back, draping his arms across my shoulders and resting his forehead against mine, “Oh, it’s a hell yes. Will you promise me something, though?”

“What?”

“Always be honest with me. If you get overwhelmed or scared, if I get too intense or piss you off, if you’re struggling for any reason, whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“I know. I will, I promise. Can I ask you for something too?”

“Of course.”

“When I inevitably screw things up, if I disappoint you or upset you, will you stay and talk to me? Don’t storm off and leave me.”

“I do love a dramatic exit when I’m angry, but for you, I can definitely do that.”

“Thank you.”

“See, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a great boyfriend already.”

I laugh a little, tempted to make a self-deprecating joke, to assure him I will indeed let him down eventually, but then decide I’d rather kiss him instead.

Even if I am destined to lose him in the end, I at least want to enjoy every minute we have together in the meantime. And who knows, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s a chance he could love me the way that I love him.

He stops then, and for a split second I worry he heard what I was thinking. The way he looks down at me makes me wonder if he was thinking it too, but instead he asks, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Um, I have to let Lex come out of her room.”

“Oh shit, Lex.”

“Yeah. So, I don’t know, maybe we can all watch a movie or something.”

“What if I want you to myself tonight?”

“Then, you’ve got me,” he smiles, “We can just hang out in my room.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He enters the room quietly, closing the door softly and leaning against it, watching as I look over the artwork on his dresser and on his wall. “I just realized I’ve never been in your room.”

“What do you think?"

"I like it, it's very you."

He smiles, pushing himself away from the door, "Can I ask you something?"

“Sure.”

“When you say you lost everyone, what do you mean? What happened?”

“Uhh,” I sigh, unsure if I’m prepared to dive into all that tonight. “If I promise to tell you, can we save that conversation for another day?”

“Yeah. We can do that.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what do you want to do then?”

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

Prev // Deja vu // 18+ // Next

[loquaciousferret]

Little Games

Summary: Agent Peña reaches breaking point after your not-so-subtle teasing around the office, deciding to teach you a lesson you won't be quick to forget.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, degradation, name-calling, rough unprotected sex, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, Javi being mean. As always- maybe more! Read at own risk

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Javi pulled me out of my Joel thots today, enjoy this short piece of filth

MINORS DO NOT PRESS KEEP READING

“Cut the shit!” Javi’s palm slams into the wall behind your head.

You could see how the man would be terrifyingly intimidating, if this hadn’t been your goal all along.

“What’s wrong, agent?” You gaze back at him innocently with wide eyes, his cock twitching just at the sight.

“Don’t give me that.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it against the wall after you had tried to reach out and push his chest back lightly to create space between you.

You blinked. You wouldn’t give in yet.

“Just admit it.” He hisses through gritted teeth, “You may be stupid but not too stupid to know what you’re doing.”

You can barely keep a straight face, it’s practically painful trying to hold back the defiant smirk that wants to creep its way onto your lips.

“I’m sorry Agent, don’t you think I’m doing a good job?” You said, holding on to the pretence a little longer.

“Cut the act.” His tone is menacing. “You know you do a great job, staying late whenever I do, doing my paperwork faster than any of the other agents just so you can come back and see me sooner. Hovering around me in those ridiculously short skirts, driving me crazy. Maybe HR should talk to you like a grown up about professional dress codes.”

“You don’t like how I dress?” You said, playing dumb for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” He gripped your jaw and tilted your face up to him.

“Is this a game to you?”

Involuntarily, your tongue darts out to lick your lips. He can’t bear to look at you any longer and spins you round so you face the wall.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” His hand was roughly separating your thighs, spreading your legs forcefully. “Maybe you’ll learn not to start something if you don’t plan on finishing it.”

You moaned as one of his large hands started to put pressure on your already wet pussy, through your thin underwear. He pushed it aside and thrusted two fingers inside you roughly. You gasped and he hissed at you to “Cierra el Pico.”

Of course he had seen you coming from a mile away that morning, wearing a black pencil skirt that barely grazed your mid thigh, and a white blouse under your blazer that clearly showed the outline of your lace bra. Most of the department were away at an incident, and management had been scheduled in with the President. Being a secretary, you knew everyone’s schedules, and you knew today was the perfect day to take your little game with Agent Peña up a notch. He would already be in a bad mood, frustrated that he had been benched while most of the other agents were out potentially getting into some action today. You used this existing frustration to your advantage and that’s how you ended up here right under his grasp where you had wanted to be all along.

You heard him unbuckling his belt with his free hand and you shuddered with excitement. He removed his fingers from inside you and gripped your panties, pulling them down your legs roughly. You stepped out of them when they hit your ankles and he picked them up, stuffing them into his pocket. You smirked, suspecting that he wouldn’t return them following this encounter.

He pressed on your upper back, folding you more so that your ass stuck out and your chest was pressed to the wall. Your breathing faltered as he slid his erection through your wet folds and lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you with no mercy and you whined, unprepared after using his fingers on you for such a short time.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” He sneered.

He immediately set a punishingly harsh pace, pressing you hard into the wall as you held both your hips, guiding you back onto his cock to increase the force of each rough thrust of his cock.

You chewed on your lip to silence your moans of pleasure, there was only one locked door between yourself and Javier and a corridor that could contain government officials at any moment.

“Is this what you thought would happen when you started your little game, huh?” He goaded, continuing to slam into you harshly.

You couldn’t come up with anything clever to say in response, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure he was giving you.

“You can dress up and pretend to be whoever you want but look at you now, huh. Just a whore under all those fancy clothes as soon as someone sticks their cock inside you.”

“Only you, Sir.” You manage to get out, releasing a stifled moan.

He scoffs at that but the intensity of his thrusts somehow increased, as if the idea turned him on even more. If this wasn’t him at his worst then you didn’t think you would be able to handle whatever that would feel like.

He kept one hand on your hip but moved the other round your front to play with your clit, rubbing and applying pressure in circles around the sensitive spot.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” He challenged.

You nodded, unable to speak for fear of crying out in pleasure.

“Really? After all that teasing? You think I should make you feel good?” He chuckled.

“I think I’d rather leave you frustrated all day, let you play with yourself tonight and wish it was me touching you.”

You whined, “Please, Javi-“

“Listen to yourself,” He taunted, and you could hear his smirk. “Willing to beg for it, you little whore.”

As soon as your orgasm started to build, your legs stiffening and your pussy clenching around him, he removed his fingers from your clit.

You whined at the loss of contact and he laughed and tutted, “This is what happens when you try and involve me in your slutty little games.”

He went quiet then, done taunting you and instead focussed on chasing his own release, slamming his cock into you as deep as it could go, your warm tight cunt getting him closer to his orgasm with every single thrust.

“Gonna fill you with my cum, remind you all day what I did to you.”

You nodded, whining, your pleasure reaching an absolute high.

After a few more thrusts, his pace faltered, and you felt his warm release inside you as he grunted, stilling inside you while he caught his breath.

He pulled out of you and you felt his load trickling down your inner thigh slowly.

“Make yourself presentable.” He ordered as he tucked his cock back inside his jeans and refastened his belt. “And leave me alone, I have more important things to do today than deal with you.”

He unlocked the door and slipped out of the disused file room back into the office. Your mind was already whirring, planning on how you could get him to do this to you again.

[yutxsgf]

𖹭 Ignoring JJK boys after a fight.. 𖹭

Pairings : 𖹭 Megumi x gn!reader 𖹭 Yuji x f!reader 𖹭 Toge x gn!reader 𖹭 Yuta x gn!reader 𖹭

CONTENT : 𖹭 Fluff 𖹭 Kissing 𖹭 Moody reader 𖹭 Soft sorcerers 𖹭 mdom x fsub 𖹭 Yuji calls reader mamas 𖹭

𝓜𝓮𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓲 𝓕𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓻𝓸

It had been about roughly 4 hours since your fight with Megumi, the two of you remaining in separate rooms with you ignoring his entire existence. Anytime he tried to 'grumpily' offer you food, you'd just brush him off entirely with your back turned to him and your face buried in your phone.

At one point, he got fed up, an empty can of soda wrinkling in his grasp before tossing it aside, promising to pick it up later. Suddenly, he's grabbing you by your wrists, slamming both of them above your head and against the wall.

“Megumi— What the hell!?”

“Shut up.”

“Excus—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He raised his voice with that one as he towered over you, teeth grit and navy blue eyes narrow.

“Wanna keep ignoring me? Fine. But you better take a Goddamn plate of food and eat it.”

You were baffled, to say the least. You would've thought he was just simply mad at the fact you were ignoring him in general. But he was worried about you eating?!

He took a deep breath, eyebrows unfurling from their irritated state as he held the neutral expression he always wore.

“I made a few onigiris. Eat it and get your ass to bed. 'S fuckin' 2AM.”

𝓨𝓾𝓳𝓲 𝓘𝓽𝓪𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓲

It wasn't like you two to argue. Yuji had always been a strict lover boy, all over you 25/8. But his cluelessness for girls and their subtle hints weighed out his clingy persona.

One too many times of a certain cashier flirting with him at the local market and him not picking up on the hints and doing anything about it made you snap at him. In public.

He didn't know what he did wrong, frown painted almost permanently on his face as he sent you text after text despite being in the same vicinity as you within your shared apartment.

I'm sorry.

Pls repky.

I miss yuo. :(

What did I do?

R u crying?

Don't cry plz.

What did I do, mamaaas..

“Stop texting me!” You yelled from within your shared room, causing him to slightly flinch on the couch he was forced out onto.

He sent a frowny face before leaving your notifications empty, just as you wished.

Though, as the 5 hour mark rolled around, you had cooled off by then. Guilt began to rack up in your head as you read over message after message that he sent before ending at that stupid little frown face.

With a sigh, you made your way out of your room, the apartment oddly silent as you roamed down the hall. Just as you were about to turn the corner, a familiar pink haired boy suddenly popped out from behind the wall.

“Yuji! Oh my goodness..” You gasped, hand clutching the fabric of your— his.. shirt that wrinkled over your heart. “Don't sneak up on me like that..”

But once your eyes flitted back up to him, you immediately noticed the fat bouquet that he had no problem holding along with a white teddy bear decorated with a large pink bowtie.

“Please don't ignore me. Ever again.” He frowned.

𝓣𝓸𝓰𝓮 𝓘𝓷𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲

Whenever you'd get mad at Inumaki, he never failed to overexert himself in his training. He always seemed at the top of his game when you were frustrated with him, easily almost giving Maki a run for her money.

He was fine with giving you space, he didn't mind it. But when it got to the point where he was beginning to get impatient, that's when he'd start to act.

“Come here.” Tongue barely revealing his seal as his voice, as quickly as it escaped his mouth reached you almost instantly. Vibrations made their way over to you from across the room as he kept his arms crossed over his plain white tee.

Unable to refuse his cursed technique, your body moved on its own as you were suddenly in front of him with a couple of rushed strides.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he frowned deeply before pushing himself off of the counter he leaned on. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, thinking about what to do with you before slightly perking up.

“Kiss me.”

And with that, your lips crashed against his, eyes widened as you could do nothing but melt into his grasp, hands coming down to rest on your hip as his lips curled into a silent smile.

You were allowed to be upset, of course. Distance yourself? Sure. But if you still happened to be moody after that, he lost all form of patience with you.

𝓨𝓾𝓽𝓪 𝓞𝓴𝓴𝓸𝓽𝓼𝓾

He was a mess when you were upset, to say the least. Despite having grown a bit more confident after his brief trip to Africa, his overthinking never ceased. As much as he wished it did.

In times like this, all he could think about was you. He didn't want to overwhelm you with apologies, but he didn't want to make it seem like he didn't care.

He sat with his face buried in the palms of his hands, hair slightly pushed up between his fingers as his elbows rested on his slightly spread legs.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.."

He repeated the words over and over to himself as he stressed himself out. The thoughts of you happier with someone else graced his mind before he suddenly sprung up, immediately rushing towards your shared room before shoving the door open, almost breaking it in his wake.

When he found you sleeping with tear stained cheeks, he immediately let out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived as he realized just how bad it seemed with him sighing in relief at your tears.

After a bit of hesitation, he gently closed the door behind him with a soft click before shifting into the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, careful as to not wake you up.

Later that morning, your back was pressed against his chest, his grasp around you iron clad as if you'd leave him at any given moment.

“Please don't leave me..”

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 30 - "Are you with me?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: I had absolutely no idea what to do with this one… and it shows I think… also can this be considered crackish?

"Danny you ready?"

"Give me a second Red!"

"No time! Going live in…"

"Wait wait wait!"

"3..."

"I got the popcorn!"

"2…"

"What about the block against the Justice League?!"

"1…"

"Red locked them out of the system. Now get ready!!"

"Go!"

Danny blinked as he got pushed by Superboy in front of the camera Impulse was standing behind. Behind them was Wonder Girl giving him a thumbs up with one hand and holding up giant flash cards with her other one.

"Uh Hi?"

Impulse raised an eyebrow and moved his hand in a keep going motion. Nervously Danny rubbed his neck. He looked left and right as if looking for something until his eyes focused back onto the camera. He coughed, took a deep breath, unnecessary in phantom form but helpful to calm down, before smiling and touching his hands together at their fingertips.

"Ahem. Hello, hi. Now you might be wondering. Who the fuck is that guy to interrupt my Saturday night movie program. I am Phantom, the newest member of Young Justice. King of the Ghost Zone also known as the Infinite Realms. The Dimension that's pretty much gluing our entire reality together." He gave the camera a nervous smile before he continued. "I am here to tell you on behalf of the entirety of the Infinite Realms. That you humans, of this dimension…"

Danny took a deep breath, from the corner of his eyes he saw Superboy giving another keep going sign while Red Robin was checking something on his laptop, making sure none of their mentors was trying to cut short their live feat over the entire world as well as that the subtitles worked for different language countries.

"...well you humans suck." Danny said as he breathed out, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment to let his message sink in. "Look, I get it. It's always hard finding something new, seeing change but come on. Anti-Ecto Acts? Was that necessary?"

He waved his hand around like he was thinking to find the right words while peaking at the flash card Wonder Girl was holding up.

"Like come on, can't you humans get your act together? Why hunt down an entire species just because they are different? You humans are already constantly at war with each other, aside from the idiocy of that, do you really have to add interdimensional war to that list?"

Danny chuckled nervously ignoring the additional flash card Impulse was now holding up to make him call out some of the humans' crimes against, the list mostly containing petty things Impulse didn't like. "Just so you know. I am barely keeping my council from declaring the dimensional one by the way." He added instead.

"Now you all are probably wondering what the hell this random ghost hero is talking about with no solution." He glanced to the side. " Well I have one."

Danny coughed into his hand and right his stance. "Dogs."

He held out his arms and Cujo appeared out of nowhere jumping into them. Off camera Wonder Girl coed. His ghost puppy had pretty much charmed all his hero friends since day one.

"They are loyal, awesome, cute and every beings best friend. Ancients even Superman has one!" Danny said smiling as he held up Cujo into the camera, he was glad he had remembered to infuse Red Robin's equipment with ectoplasm so the broadcast wouldn't get distorted.

"It's something we can all agree on. So, are you with me? Let's discard these stupid acts and all focus on the cuteness of little beings like him? How could anyone want to destroy his entire existence!"

"SHIT!" Red Robin cursed loudly off Camera and Danny blinked head turning towards his direction. "B got our location! Oracle ratted us out and is about to shut down the broadcast!"

"What this soon?! We didn't even get to the juicy parts yet!" Impulse complained loudly and Danny nervously faced the camera.

"Uh… Yea so.. No Anti-Ecto Acts and pro Dogs!" He summed up liften a encouraging fist up as Cujo barked happily in his arms.

"ETA 2! We need to bolt!" Red Robin shouted as Wonder Girl Rushed across the camera to open the window on the other side. Superboy was already picking up Red Robin and Impulse was gone before Red had even finished his sentence.

Phantom gave the camera one nervous smile as Cujo jumped out of his arms. "For the record. This broadcast was brought to you by sleep deprived Red and our opinion that the Justice League is taking too long!"

The next second phantom was seen rushing off to the side most likely following the others a moment later a crash was heard in the distance before the camera tilted and fell to the side. The broadcast was cut off at that point.

Unknown to the audience, a group of young hero's was rushing away from there not so secret broadcasting location, trying to escape their mentors that were not happy about their kids trying to take matters into their own hands just because 'the adults are taking to long'.

[juuuulez]

📰 | part eight: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, enemies to lovers, slow burn, they argue again surprise, Carl cleans your wounds how cute, allusions to past sexual assault.

summary: You and Carl bunker down for the night, and finally reveal your feelings regarding the first Saviour massacre.

-> masterlist <-

EEK! sorry this was short but also finally concluded kinda a chapter of the carl/reader relationship….finally transitioning away from enemies and into some sense of mutual respect

also it’s official! as of publishing, my last exam is tomorrow, meaning i’ll be completely free allllll the time!!!!

Carl doesn’t know how to handle this.

So far, he’s dealt with you angry, weirdly upset, furious. Violent.

But not this.

What would he even call this?

You trudge a few steps behind him, reluctantly following Carl towards this supposed cabin.

The entire trip, you’ve said nothing, aside from a distant mumble when Carl had pointed out that the button of your jeans still remained undone, which you had hastily fixed.

He wouldn’t be able to last a whole night in this silence. Not after what just happened, what he just saw. Despite your differences, he wanted to talk to you about it, see if you were okay. What you were thinking, how you felt. It seemed cruel to just let it fester, whether you were a Saviour or not.

It’s what he would have wanted.

Eventually you come to a halt, the cabin that Carl remembered luckily still remaining. It doesn’t seem to have acquired any extra damage, indicating nobody had come across it since.

He enters through the front door, on alert for any hidden predators. You wait outside, coming to sit on the front porch, looking out at the open expanse of forest.

Deeming it safe, Carl aquires another mission. Hidden in one of the cupboards, he finds a small first-aid kit. At the time, he’d claimed that leaving supplies here was stupid, as they’d needed everything on hand. But now he understood the value.

So, Carl made his way back outside, sitting down next to you on the wooden steps. It seems you’re not in the mood for talking, and he’s not about to push that. Luckily enough, you get the message, and are at least now facing him.

Your nose is definitely broken, with blood and mucus having poured from the nostrils, now dried all over the lower half of your face. There are cuts along your eyebrow and lip, similarly having dried in a state of disarray.

Carl opens the cap of his water bottle, pouring some onto your waiting face, where you close your eyes without any command. He shifts to find a roll of bandages, where he wads up a pile to use as a makeshift towel, attempting to wipe the blood away from your face.

He could get used to this, you shutting up, being obedient.

It doesn’t take long, but the pair of you sit in silence, Carl trying to amend your beaten face. There isn’t much he can do, but for now, it’s better than nothing.

When the task is complete, Carl is about to say something, to try and at least discuss what just happened. But there’s no point, as you’re already standing, trudging back into the cabin. He has no choice but to follow.

“I’ll keep watch.” You declare, standing over near one of the windows. It’s begun to shift into nightfall, the moon just peaking out through the trees, dark forest surrounding the cabin.

Carl can’t find it in himself to protest, figuring it was a reasonable course of action. That, and approaching you right now was a difficult task. Part of him wanted to be empathetic, to offer you some semblance of support, but you were really doing everything to shut him out.

He couldn’t blame you.

So, Carl lays back on the rickety couch, putting his feet up on the neighbouring coffee table. Light emits from the lantern positioned nearby, leaving Carl to prop his hat over his face, trying to shield it from any disruptions.

There’s no telling how long it’s been, when he finally awakens. You hadn’t woken him up, but instead the loud friction of trees hitting the sides of the cabin, a large wind passing through the area.

Rain pelts down against the glass windows, making an almost bullet-like noise emanate around the entire perimeter. As such, other unwanted attention had been drawn. Two walkers stand on the opposite side of the glass, growling and banging their grimy, decaying hands against the barrier.

You’re still standing there, watching out the window, almost silently taunting their incompetence. Judging by the darkness outside, it must have been a few hours.

As such, Carl gets up, throwing his hat down on the table. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asks, coming to stand next to you, similarly looking out the window.

Your arms are crossed, in that pensive position whilst you lean on the wall, eyes focused on the outdoors. With no verbal response, you offer a shrug, which doesn’t aid in calming Carl down. If anything, it only stirs irritation in his gut.

“Look, I know what you’re problem is,” He accuses, “And if you want to talk about it, we can. This whole stoic act is stupid.”

“There is no it, nothing happened. We have nothing to talk about.” You claim, still looking at the walkers opposite the glass. A rotting, decaying mirror of the pair of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t get Carl anywhere. You didn’t respond to speaking. That, and he was growing increasingly frustrated with your attitude. Just like that first day in Alexandria, it boils over, and Carl finds himself harshly shoving your shoulder just to garner your attention.

It works, and you hastily shove him back, your face twisted into that familiar look of annoyance. It looks like you’re about to say something, probably yell at him, but he cuts you off.

“Just go lay down. I’ll watch the rest of the night.”

What was supposed to be a peace-offering, only causes your aggression to grow. That strange emptiness has disappeared, and you look ready to snap, a fire suddenly lit beneath your gaze.

“The fuck makes you think I’ll do that?” You sneer, “Trust me, you’re the last person I’m about to let my guard down with. Sounds like a free pass to a knife in my skull.”

It takes Carl a moment to piece together what exactly you mean. This anger isn’t uncommon, and it’s not like you two get along, but he’s unsure what he’s done to garner any sense of fear.

But then it clicks.

The satellite station.

“That wasn’t about you.” Carl tries to say, wanting to bring some sense of rationality to the conversation, but you’re already bursting.

“That’s not the point!” You shout, “Twenty-four of my soldiers, with children and girlfriends, murdered in their sleep! I was supposed to be one of them! If I had of been in my room, you would have killed me.”

It’s a harsh accusation, causing Carl to similarly bristle, unable to control his own temper. “What, like you’re innocent? They were dangerous, they needed to be taken out.”

You cross the room, trying to put any distance between each other. “So, you would’ve killed me, then? You wanted me dead then, Carl, and you should still want that!”

“I don’t.” He bluntly refutes.

“But you should! You tried to shoot me, in my own bedroom!” As you yell, Carl tries to approach once more, causing you to throw one of the couch cushions at him. He catches it. “Nothing has changed between then and now. You should want me dead.”

There’s something on the tip of his tongue, a response that Carl knows is too cruel to bring up now. Winning the argument wouldn’t even be worth it. But it’s so close, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, causing you to roll your eyes and scoff.

You sit down on the couch, once again refusing to look at him. “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Carl quickly replies, but attempts to shift his tone into something quieter, understanding. “But maybe I know how you feel. And I don’t think you deserve that, even if you’re crazy.”

The subtle jeer helps to soften the blow of honesty, and seems to work to some degree, considering Carl sits down on the couch beside you, and you don’t move away.

One day, you’ll ask what he meant. But for now, you understood just fine.

“So, you need to get a few hours sleep,” He begins once more, “And at dawn, we’ll get back to Alexandria. Negan will be worried enough about the broken nose, we don’t need you passed out in the car, too.”

It seems logical enough, so even with a disgruntled look on your face, you let your body fall sideways onto the couch, finally in a resting position.

You must’ve needed it, too, as you’re practically out as soon as your head makes contact with the fabric. For a long few moments, Carl stays completely still, not wanting to break the small semblance of peace he somehow built.

After it’s determined you’re definitely not waking up, he leans forward to retrieve the forgotten hat, dropping it over your sleeping face to shield it from the lantern.

Your tank rides up slightly amidst sleep, and it takes everything in Carl not to touch that tiny sliver of skin. At one point, simply watching you becomes too unbearable, so he resorts to sorting whatever he can within the cabin. When that’s done, he paces.

The two walkers continue banging outside.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

104/150 with lethal company?

104) I can hear it calling my name

.........

[Y/n], January 29th, [Log 001]

---I'm afraid this will be my last log. So I'm keeping this encrypted.

Everyone's gone, but I'm still here. And I'm terrified. We started on this job as strangers, and we became family. Now I'm all alone because of a stupid mask. A piece of scrap we should've just sold off.

But he thought it would be funny to wear. I don't blame him. He was always a jokester, willing to do anything to turn a frown upside down and make light of our dreary trips. I know he didn't mean to hurt us. He thought it was harmless. Honest to god we thought so too.

Until he started vomiting blood and tried grabbing me. He tore off my helmet, along with my tracker, but I managed to get away. I still don't know how. But I wish I was smarter about it, because I got lost.

Then I heard the ship's engines.

They must've thought I was dead. Or maybe they all died and the autopilot kicked in. I'm not sure. I don't even know the current time. But what I do know is that I'm stuck here now. Possibly forever. I could make an SOS but that monster is still outside. I had to barricade myself in this storage room and wait until it goes away.

It keeps knocking. I can hear it calling my name. But I know it's not him.

To anyone who reads this, don't pick up the porcelain masks. They aren't worth shit. It'll tempt you to put it on. Don't. You'll find better loot elsewhere. If you see anyone already wearing it, kill them. Stun them. Run. Whatever. Just don't let it take you.

And if you see me wearing it, put me out of my misery. I promise I'll understand---

Finishing what would likely be your final log, you sighed and slumped back against the wall, letting the tablet slip from your hands.

You don't know how long you've been stuck here--whether it's been hours or days.

But all you know is that the Masked on the other side of the door hasn't left. It was using your coworker's corpse, mimicking his voice as it pounded on the steel and tried convincing you to let it in, even shattering the window. For some reason it refused to leave you alone, and kept begging and begging until it began screaming unintelligently...

That would go on and on until eventually it would cease, weakly clawing at the door, only to rinse and repeat once it rested its voice.

You were starving, trying your best to ration the jar of pickles you were luckily able to find in this storage room.

Unfortunately, that's as far as your luck will go at this point. They were sour and made you want to vomit every time you ate one. But while you didn't want starvation to take your life, you weren't exactly sure how you really wanted to go out instead.

It sure as hell wasn't gonna be from that bastard who took away your friends.

"It's clear....all clear......come on out....the ship is leaving..leave....out.....COME OUT..!! COME OUT!! COMEOUTCOMEOUT-!!"

With your heart hammering in your chest, you curled up and covered your ears, squeezing both eyes shut. 'Fuck, it's losing its mind again...this is a nightmare..why did I ever take this job?' You tried not to focus on the screams so much, and instead prayed for some kind of miracle.

But in space, would anyone really hear your prayers?

Yet somebody must have, because the screaming abruptly stopped a minute later, being replaced by the sounds of heavy thumping and growling drawing near.

You only knew one other alien creature that made those.

And you knew it was pissed off.

Getting up and backing away from the door, you fearfully clutched a stop sign as you heard a series of terrified shrieks, roars, slamming and crashing sounds....before silence followed, save for the low growls you heard earlier and chewing noises.

Cautiously, you went back over and pushed aside one of the things covering up the window, and the sight on the other side was quite nauseating:

The Thumper was hovering over the Masked's body, teeth covered in blood and flesh as it tore into it, clearly wanting to savor this midnight snack.. But eventually it decided to drag the rest of the corpse away and to another part of the facility, only leaving behind a few shattered fragments of white dirty porcelain.

You couldn't believe it.

You were actually happy that a Thumper, of all things, saved your skin.

But you sure as hell didn't want it coming back for a second lunch. Now was your window of opportunity to get out of here. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was the only reason you were able to grab your loot and book it out of that storage room, being careful not to run into that Thumper again.

At least now you could go outside and (hopefully) send an S.O.S.

[johnslittlespoon]

accidentally just created my own buckbucky college au oops (i love college aus tho, this was far overdue tbh) so here's like ~2k words of (semi–nsfw) drabble that i wanna turn into a oneshot/series :-)

thinking about modern au pre–established relationship buckbucky who meet in their first year of college because they apply to an ad to rent a two bedroom apartment near campus, complete strangers save for a few texts back and forth until move in day.

they become fast friends despite how opposite they are, john being a cliche frat boy type (but subverting expectations by majoring in something english–related? waxing secret poetry about his 'obvious as the sun to everyone but gale' crush on his roommate lol) and gale being a studious math/science major, no interest in parties or campus culture. pining aside, everything's just fine until:

john does something stupid a few months into the school year and ends up spraining/breaking his dominant arm– probably wipes out trying to ride his bike home to his and gale's apartment while drunk after a party. gale gets a call at midnight from a sheepish john asking if he can come drive him to the hospital, and of course he does, though after his initial concern when he picks john up at the side of some random street, he's fuming at john's idiocy.

"you could've rode into traffic, john. jesus, you're gonna give me a stroke one of these days, you gotta start using your brain more." and john's drenched in cold–sweat from pain as he cradles his arm to his chest, head tilted back against the headrest and trying not to curse out every red light as his head spins, but he still cracks a weak smile and says "c'mon buck, you'd be bored if i started using my brain." gale glances over and the stern look is enough to shut john up.

this injury leads to gale having to help him with certain tasks for a bit, like shaving his face, brushing his teeth, doing his hair, tying shoes, etc. john's stubborn the day after, independent to a fault, refusing to ask for help, and gale watches with mild amusement/hidden winces, not wanting to push because he knows by now it'll only make john dig his heels in. gale only decides that enough is enough when he's walking past the half–open bathroom door the next afternoon and suddenly hears a sharp inhale and a stream of profanities and pokes his head in to find john's cut his jaw trying to shave with his left hand.

the intimacy and domesticity of it all– john pretends he's inconvenienced, but once he realizes this means he gets to stare at gale's focussed face up close as he sits on the bathroom counter and gale stands between his legs carefully shaving away his stubble, he's a lot less reluctant to accept help. but being that close to gale's face and being able to unabashedly study his long lashes and the curve of his lips is dangerous for john's lack of impulse control, barely keeping his pining under wraps from the moment they'd met, let alone with this newfound proximity they have to fall into the routine of.

so john has fun being a shithead on purpose during these moments, both to distract his yearning brain and for his own entertainment, just yapping away while gale's frustratedly trying to grab him by his jaw and hold him still for five seconds. biting down on the toothbrush when gale's trying to do a proper job of brushing his teeth so gale has to wrestle it away like he's playing tug of war with a dog, being an asshole and jerking his shoe to the side while gale's doing up his laces for him, heart leaping at the thrill he gets from gale's touches getting firmer when he's fed up, or from being pinned by irritated blue eyes.

he has no idea gale's pining just as hard, because gale's a master of concealing emotions in thanks to a very different upbringing than john's, and because while gale doesn't hide his queerness, he's not as open with it as john is. but gale's losing his mind just as much each time john needs his help, and the way he feels his self control slipping scares him.

this little dance around each other probably comes to a peak when john's being extra difficult one day while gale's trying to tame his wild curls for him. gale's got john pressed back against the bathroom counter with a scowl, working his gelled fingers through thick dark hair, and john can barely think straight because oh, has he ever spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about gale's hands in his hair under very different circumstances.

john's got a grin so big it near splits his face in half as he purposefully leans out of gale's reach, pulling every annoying thing he can think of because if he focuses too hard on gale's motions, he's gonna pop a very inconvenient boner with no hope of concealing it from gale with the way he's pressed up against him.

but gale's got twenty minutes until his next class and it's a ten minute walk from their apartment, and he's at the end of his rope, so he finally snaps and without giving it a second thought he closes the last bit of distance between them to grab at the back of john's hair, and he pulls, hard.

the smile slides off john's face as his mouth falls open and his hips reflexively jerk forward and whatever scolding gale was about to give him dies in his throat because holy shit. there's a few seconds where both of them just stare at each other wide eyed with their hearts pounding, john internally spiralling because he thinks he's just fucked everything up, gale internally spiralling because oh my god, he hasn't been misreading john's behaviour around him.

gale whispers a "fuck" and, more impulsive than he's ever allowed himself to be, goes in for the kiss, hand still tight in john's hair, and john whines into his mouth and his hands fly to gale's waist and everything gets heated really quick– until gale pulls away with a gasp for breath, both of them panting, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. and then gale's ducking out of the bathroom and grabbing his backpack from the entry way and all but sprinting out of the apartment.

john's left standing there harder than he's ever been in his life but also panicking because he's not sure whether he's fucked up or whether gale's just overwhelmed, because he knows gale well enough to know he likes his space when big things happen.

but gale also knows john well enough to know how big of an overthinker he is; they've probably had to work through some incidents where their communication styles have clashed over the few months they've been roomies. so after his hands stop shaking enough while he's walking to campus, he types out a message to john letting him know 'I'm all good. Sorry for running, was gonna be late for class and panicked. Talk later, yeah?'

and john sighs in relief, texts back a 'np. sounds good :)' and then promptly shoves a hand down his pants and comes embarrassingly quick with the sting of gale's hands in his hair still fresh in his mind.

they talk things out somewhat, blahblahblah plotting problem for future me, but they're both shy and awkward around each other for a bit, which is so out of character for john and how obnoxiously flirty and loud mouthed he normally is.

so maybe what finally breaks them out of this tiptoeing around each other after a few days is something stupid– specifically, john ends up pent up and frustrated because trying to get off with his left hand just isn't doing it for him. and he's one of those 'once a day minimum' guys, so this isn't something he can just ignore; finds his temper is shorter, and he can't focus as well, etc. drama queen.

either gale comments on it lightheartedly and john blurts out his problem unthinkingly, or john makes an offhand joke about it, and gale thinks john's lack of impulse control is starting to rub off on him, because after a beat of silence, he gets out an "i can help."

john's head snaps over to look at him so fast he feels like he gives himself whiplash, eyes comically rounded, wondering if he's heard gale wrong or if gale's making a rare flirtatious joke. gale blinks back at him, looking just as surprised, tips of his ears going a little pink, but he doesn't laugh or throw in a 'only kidding!'

mumbles a "y'know, if you want," second guessing himself as if what happened in the bathroom a few days before isn't in john's top three best things that have ever happened to him list. john gets out a "yeah– yeah, i want," uncharacteristically nervous, and gale nods, turning his attention back to his laptop. and john just stands there in the kitchen, flabbergasted, shifting uncertainly.

works up the courage to shyly ask, "like. now? or." and he feels like he's never fumbled the bag so hard in his life, unable to remember the last time he's felt shy when talking about sex–related stuff, realizes just how bad his crush on gale's gotten. beyond a crush, at this point. and it makes it worse that gale's so nonchalant now, humming to himself as if in deep thought before saying "later. i've gotta get this assignment done."

john loses his mind over those next few hours, trying to be patient and give gale space to focus, but he's half hard the whole time and can't think about anything other than what gale means by 'helping'. gale can sense his impatience from the other side of their apartment, and he can't help the way it makes him smile to himself, having fun teasing john without even needing to do anything, and without john knowing it's fully intentional.

unfortunately this arrangement, however it plays out, probably leads to a lotta miscommunication and repression of feelings, because they're both dumb boys who suck at communicating, neither one of them wanting to ruin a good thing (aka an inevitable friends with benefits situation) by bringing up their feelings for the other. but there's plenty of hot sex and light kink exploration in the meantime, and eventually they sort their shit out, likely by accident like every other situation they've stumbled into together.

and not to cliffhang pre–smut, but i'll leave it there because this is way too long and if i do turn it into a oneshot i don't wanna write it all out of my system into this drabble before it makes it into a fic loll <3

[iwaasfairy]

siscon isagi 😵‍💫😵‍💫

SiSCON ISAGI! Say it loUDer for people in the back!!!! Isagi is the type of big brother you don’t pay no mind about him teasing you and hugging and kissing until you have a boyfriend and he’s just unreasonably short and mean to him. He wasn’t gonna be overbearing and all, but what do you think you’re doing??

tw incest, choking, blackmail, noncon

contains isagi yoichi x fem!reader

The door shuts with a quiet click. Push it for good measure, take a breath, let it out. It's the sliver of quiet. Before you whirl around and stomp down to the living room, and glare under your eyebrows as Yoichi plops himself back down into the couch. When you don’t get a response, you kick his shin and he grimaces. “What’s your deal?!”

“What’s my deal,” you repeat, voice already shooting up too high, “really?!” You resist the urge to put your hands on your hips, lest he comment on it, and allow yourself to imagine pummeling his stupid arms blue for being the way he is. "What's your deal with my boyfriend?!"

"Pff," the noiret dares to roll his eyes, as if it didn't mean anything when he basically shoulder tapped him every time walking by, like some moronic dick measuring contest. How he cut off every other sentence with a short comment and a sneer. You know your brother, and you know he knows better. Should know better, at least. "Oh, spare me. If you didn't want me to give my honest thoughts, you shouldn't have brought him home."

"My boyfriend is-"

"Your 'boy friend' is a dick. He's an arrogant pretty boy, and can't keep his fucking hands to himself. Mom thinks so too! He's a joke." His eyes are strangely distant. You barely recognize the person sitting in front of you when he glares. "I'm not gonna fight you on it."

"You don't know that, niichan!"

"I do fucking know. Better than you do, apparently. How dense are you?" He then puts on a mockingly high pitched voice, swinging his hands like a schoolgirl. "'Kei kun, come here. Kei kun, show mom how good you are at photography. Kei kun, come kiss me again.' It's ridiculous."

Your well-spoken, quiet mother blanks from her uncomfortable seat at the dinner table to give you a stunned look, and you can't help but take steps closer until you can jam your finger into his forehead and grit your teeth. You know better too, than to poke until your brother retaliates. Because you were always more fiery than he was, but his quiet, calculated nature isn't any less hard-headed.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but you don't have some moronic territory claim on our house. And you don't have some stupid say on who I see either. And you don't have to like him. Because he's my boyfriend." Your mom only starts cleaning off the table when you both don't make any sign of slowing down. "Mom?" you beg though, as your brother wraps his hand around your wrist to tug hard and move you back a few steps.

Ever since getting his growth spurt, there's a glint in his eyes that- scares you, sometimes. Like he'd gladly burn you down to the ground. You used to get away with anything— but lately, you're not so sure.

"Yo-chan, please-" your mom tries, and is promptly cut off by the way he gets up and goes to stand almost forehead to forehead with you, azure blues hard and narrowed.

"Do it again. I dare you," he mumbles, jaw tight, as the air between you two becomes thick enough to cut it with a knife. You try to pull your hand back, but he resists with too much ease. "If you wanna have the fight, we'll have the fucking fight." You are dragged behind him before you can even say anything back, and your mom puts aside the plates to glance between the two of you. She calls his name again, but he only pauses for a second.

"I - I just want talk this out. I'll be- civil." When you get down the hall and to is room, most of your heat has now seeped out of your body, suddenly aware that if you really pissed him off, neither you or your mother would be able to do anything. And you aren't scared of him, you're really not, but— fighting sounds a lot less appealing when it's just you and him in a closed room.

"Yo niichan—" He slams you up against the door before you can get another word out, trapped between his taller, stronger body, and the door. And his long fingers are a little too comfortable wrapping around your throat and squeezing just enough to make your eyes widen and the pressure to itch your lungs.

He has a ghost of a smile on his lips as he forces his solid thigh between your legs, and gets too close to your face. "Don't start again. I want you to listen." His eyes flutter for a second, before he dips his head. And warm lips find yours and push and push until you can't get him away from you. He pulls back with a little puff, and licks his lips. "That guy is an ass. And not for you. I know, because I've seen how much he asks you for pictures."

Your hands are fisted into his sweater by his shoulders, like stone, in pure shock as you stare into his eyes and he does it again— kisses you again. You grab his face to push away with more purpose this time, but he doesn't move an inch before he turns you around and pushes you back to the door instead, and crowds against your back.

"And if you don't want everyone to see them," the way he pushes himself against you is all too much crotch and - hardening cock- as he brushes his lips along the shell of your ear, "you'll listen to your big brother."

[rubyreduji]

eat your young | the games pt 3

tags: hunger games!au, fake dating, angst warnings: death, violence, blood, gore, probably inaccurate medical stuff (its fiction shut up) wc: 4.4k an: you are legally obligated to NOT be mad at me

m.list

That’s two more gone. Ten remain. Half of them are careers. You stare at the fire blankly.

You don’t want to be on this island anymore. You don’t want to think about how Wonwoo died less than thirty feet away, but you know on this island you can get fresh water and a good supply of food, so you don’t dare move the boys.

“Y/N-ah.” Jihoon’s voice is soft as he approaches you. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You slightly melt into his arms, enjoying the safety of his arms locked around you, just for a moment.

“I’m okay Ji, I just need a minute.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted to tell you that Hansol and I are going to sleep soon. Please don’t stay up all night. Wake one of us up to take watch, okay?”

You nod. “Let Hansol-ah into the sleeping bag tonight, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t forget to put the fire out soon.” Jihoon presses a kiss to your forehead. It’s the first time either of you have shown any physical affection other than hand holding or cuddling at night. The feeling lingers there even after Jihoon gets up.

You huff. That’s another problem that you don’t want to worry about. The stupid crush you have on your fake boyfriend. You think you may have had a crush on him even before either of you were reaped, but now it’s real. It’s not just a passing crush on the idea of someone. No, now he’s here and real and holding your hand and kissing your forehead and making your heart go crazy.

You don’t think it’s healthy to feel this many emotions at once. Being in the Hunger Games is not for the faint of heart, you will say that.

You grieve for Wonwoo. He was your friend and your ally and he saved your life. By morning though, you will be back to good and ready to assess the next problem that arises. You have to be if you want to keep Jihoon and Hansol safe. You have to push all personal emotions aside so you can think properly and just get through the next challenge.

It’s late when you put the fire out. It’s way past the nightly recap. You didn’t bother watching tonight. You sit in the silent dark and stare at the moon. It’s not real, just another thing made by the Gamemakers, but it still brings you some comfort.

You think about your family. You hope your sister is sleeping right now. You hope your father isn’t worrying too much about you. Joshua is probably up right now. He’s always been a night owl.

“Hey Shua,” you whisper into the night. You use your old nickname for him. The one you gave him when you two were in elementary school. You’ve graduated to calling him ‘Josh’, especially in public, but every once in a while you’ll revert back to the old nickname. It helps remind you both of your past together and how far you have come.

You’re not sure if he’s going to be watching. He was never someone who would watch intently. Neither were you, but you kept more tabs on things than he did. Maybe he’s watching just because it’s you. Maybe he’s not watching for that exact reason.

“I miss you. I miss you a lot. You know after thirteen years of friendship you’d think we’d be tired of each other, yet it’s only been a week away from you and it’s like I’m going crazy. It’s hard not having you here. It’s like a part of me is missing. Well, not like. A part of me is missing. You.

“Remember when you used to accompany me during work and you’d complain about it the whole time while I chopped down tree after tree, but you stayed because it meant we could spend more time together? I wish we could go back to doing that. Jihoon and Hansol are good company, but they’re not you. I’ll love you forever, my Shua-yah.”

You’re pretty sure the Capitol isn’t going to air your little speech. You don’t care though. It makes you feel better being able to talk to Joshua in some way.

The rest of the night you wonder what District 7 has been up to. When the sunrises you look over and smile softly at the sight of Jihoon and Hansol in the sleeping bag. They’re adorable smushed together with their sleeping faces.

You stand up and all of your bones crack from sitting in the same place the whole night. You stretch your body out and grab the bag. You find the tap and put it in a tree before collecting water for the day.

You hear rustling coming from behind you and soon arms are wrapping around your waist, a sleepy face pressed to your back. “You didn’t sleep last night.”

“I’ll sleep later, after Sol wakes up.” You lean back into Jihoon’s embrace. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.”

“Remember, you have to take care of yourself too.”

Jihoon’s words make your mind flash back to your final conversation with Soonyoung.

Promise me one more thing? Take care of yourself as well, yeah? I know your new focus is on Jihoon, but you’re important too.

You know that if you don’t care for yourself, you won’t be much help to Jihoon either. It doesn’t matter if you actually take care of yourself to take care of yourself, it won’t matter in the end. You need to be at your best for Jihoon though.

You turn around so you can face him. His hair is a mess and you reach up to fix it. “Let’s go to the shore today. I wanna wash in the water.”

Jihoon nods, though you have a feeling he’s only half listening. You lean down and kiss his forehead, as payment for the one he gave you last night. As you and Jihoon are in your own little world, you can hear Hansol starting to wake up as well.

Jihoon squeezes you once more. “Go sleep. We’ll go to the shore later.”

You nod. With a yawn you climb into the sleeping bag, and let sleep overtake you.

When you wake up, it’s way past noon. The sun shines bright in your eyes and you crawl out of the sleeping bag. Hansol and Jihoon are both lounging about and both perk up when they see you’re awake.

You three walk down to the shore where you get into the water. You clean your body off from all of the dirt and grime and blood from the last few days. The salt water still doesn’t leave you feel completely clean, but it’s something.

Hansol and Jihoon do the same and you’re all feeling slightly better afterwards. You stand on the sand, waiting for them to finish up. You glance over at the island in the middle of everything. You can see the glint of the metal Cornucopia in the distance. The place where all the careers reside.

“Y/N-ah,” Jihoon pulls you from your thoughts. “Ready to go back?”

“Yeah.” You pull your eyes away from the Cornucopia and grab Jihoon’s hand.

Another canon goes off later that evening. You guys are sitting around the fire, eating roasted nuts that Hansol found. The sound of the cannon doesn’t make you jump anymore, but it still caches your attention.

There are only two other non-career tributes out there. You wonder if it was one of them. You don’t have to wonder for too long because the nightly recap starts. When you look up at the sky you’re not expecting to see a career.

The picture of the District 4 boy you attacked on the very first day sits high in the sky. Hyunwoo? Something like that. You wonder if his leg injury got to him, or something else did. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is there are now only four careers left.

The night is peaceful. The next morning is as well.

You find a hunk of wood and grab a knife. You’re not sure who’s knife it is anymore, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re glad one of your hobbies can be done with even the simplest tools you have available to you.

The Capitol citizens have to be finding this funny right now. People are dying and you’re sitting here carving wood.

“Hey, that’s my song,” Jihoon says. Your concentration is broken and you look up at him.

“What?”

“You were humming,” Jihoon explains.

“Oh, sorry. Force of habit.” Whenever you’re working you end up humming a song. You don’t know many songs though, so you always go back to the same two or three you’ve heard Jihoon singing.

“Don’t apologize, I like hearing it.” Jihoon looks a bit shy and you think it’s adorable.

“You two are gross,” Hansol says, breaking the moment. “It was better when Wonwoo was here, so I had something to focus on that wasn’t you two.”

You laugh lightly. “Sorry Sollie, we’ll tone it down.”

You don’t want to tone it down though. You want to keep it going. You want to do more and have more and be more.

The rest of the afternoon is quiet. Then evening comes.

While everyone is sitting around, you sit up from where you’re leaning against one of the trees. There’s a rustling of leaves and in an instant you’re up on your feet. There’s a flash of something and suddenly you’re pulling both Jihoon and Hansol up, pushing them ahead of you.

“Mutts!” You yell out and start to take off at a full running pace. You glance behind you and quickly look away. It looks to be a mutation between a rhino and a large feline. It has the horn and build of a rhino, but the coat, teeth, and paws of a jungle cat. There’s only one, but it’s large and fast and you’re doing your best just to get through the thick foliage of the jungle.

The only thing that makes you feel even a sliver better about this situation is that you can clearly see Jihoon and Hansol in front of you. As long as you’re between them and the mutt, everything will be okay.

You’re a bit too focused on the boys though, because you trip. You land with a hard thud on the ground and you can barely even think before the mutt’s on you. You let out a scream as it tears sinks it’s claws into your arm.

It doesn’t let up and you’re sure you’re going to die. You feel something digging into your side and you remember your axe is on your belt. You struggle to detach it from your belt. As you do so, the mutt moves and grabs right onto your leg with it’s teeth. You’re sure if it wasn’t for the sheer panicked state of adrenaline you’re in right now you’d be dead.

With a cry you lift your axe and slam the blade down into the skull of the mutt. The mutt’s teeth loosen up on you and falls dead. Your arms fall limp as well and you do your best to remember to breathe.

Your ears are ringing and you can hear the faint sounds of Hansol and Jihoon but your vision is starting to go and you’re scared. You’re so, so scared.

Jihoon can’t breathe. There’s a lump in his throat and a stab in his heart and you’re going to die and Jihoon can’t breathe.

He sinks down next to you and cradles your head in his lap. There’s fear in your eyes and that scares Jihoon the most, because he doesn’t think he’s seen you scared a day in his life.

���J-Ji,” you call out to him.

“Shhh, shh, I’m here. Hi, baby, I’m here.”

A tear rolls down your eyes and Jihoon quickly moves to brush it away. He doesn’t feel too far away from crying himself. There’s so much blood. So much blood and your leg doesn’t even look like a leg anymore and you’re breathing is slowing and you’re gasping for air.

“Ji, Ji,” you sob, tear freely falling now, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die anymore. Please Jihoon.” Your fingers dig into Jihoon’s arm, pleading for his help in some way.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, it’s okay, you’re not going to die. I- you’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” Jihoon tries to keep the panic out of his voice as he comforts you, but he knows he’s failing. “I- Soonyoung please help.”

Jihoon cups your face with his hands, and brushes his thumb over your cheek, hoping to calm you some. Jihoon leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. The taste of salt and dirt linger on his lips.

Ding.

A parachute falls down next to Hansol. He quickly picks it up and opens it. Inside is a plethora of medical supplies and Hansol quickly gets to work. Death may work quick, but Kwon Soonyoung works quicker.

“My mom’s a medic,” Hansol explains quickly as he feeds you a couple pills. “I don’t know as much as she does, but I can do this.” His hands are shaking, but Jihoon doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that he can save you.

Hansol takes a piece of cloth and ties it around your thigh and uses a stick to twist until it’s tight. Jihoon’s never seen a medical procedure like it before but he assumes it’s to cut off blood so you don’t lose even more than you already have.

He then moves on to your arm. He takes some of your water reserves and cleans off your arm before grabbing the needle and thread that was already in your first aid kit grabbed from the Cornucopia. His fingers are still a bit shaky as is his breath as he stabs into your arm the first time. It seems like he’s also trying to keep himself from crying, the only thing stopping him is having to stitch you up. It’s clearly a novice job, but Hansol eventually patches up your whole arm.

Despite your arm being taken care of, your leg is still mangled. Jihoon can’t look at it for too long or he’ll actually throw up. He can see a bit of bone though and it’s all meaty and bloody and slightly bent out of shape.

Even Hansol looks disgusted as he looks down at it. Inside the container that Soonyoung sent is some ointment, but Jihoon isn’t sure how much that can help when you have a literal chunk of your leg gone. Still Hansol rubs it onto your skin where he can and then wraps and splints your leg.

You’ve calmed down and your breathing is soft, but steady, and Jihoon thinks it has to do with the medicine Hansol fed you at the start. Jihoon has been petting your hair the whole time, watching Hansol meticulously. There’s a tight feeling in his chest and it doesn’t go away until your body shifts just the slightest bit.

You weakly reach out for Hansol and he helps you by grabbing your hand in his. “Th-thank you.”

Jihoon’s thankful for Hansol and Soonyoung as well, but he also knows that if you don’t real help soon, you won’t make it much longer. The suffocating fear that you’re going to die creeps up Jihoon’s throat and he does his best to swallow is back down.

From that start, it was clear you were going to die. You were going to lay down your life to say Jihoon’s. It was something he had to come to terms with. Now that he’s faced with the reality of it though, he can’t accept it. Not yet. He’s not ready to let you go yet. He needs more time.

So maybe he likes you. Maybe he’s always been a little interested in you. The strong, reliable woodsman from District 7. Now you two are here together and he has you but he’s about to lose you and he can’t handle it.

Hansol gets up and leaves to go back for the supplies. Jihoon’s took shaken to do anything other than pet your hair. Hansol comes back soon and Jihoon finally gets up.

Together they make a shelter. They tie the tarp to a couple trees like a lean-to and put branches and leaves over it so it’s more hidden.

Your face isn’t in the sky when night falls though, and that’s all that matters right now.

The night is long and Jihoon doesn’t sleep a wink. He can’t, too busy monitoring you. When morning comes Jihoon finally gets a good look at you in full light. Your skin looks dull and sickly and Hansol’s stitching on your arm looks even worse in the broad daylight.

Jihoon takes a peek down at your leg. It’s still all bandaged up and Jihoon can’t even imagine the monstrosities that lay under the coverings. Jihoon can only hope that more medicine will be sent soon.

You’re sleeping right now and Jihoon keeps a hold on your hand, but only so he can keep his fingers pressed to your pulse. It’s slow and faint, but it’s there.

Soonyoung sent the group a good portion size of soup and Jihoon must think the sponsors feel bad for them. Jihoon doesn’t really care, as long as it helps you stay alive.

The next few days are slow. Other killings happen, but to other tributes, and Jihoon doesn’t really care as long as it’s not you. None of it’s okay, this whole situation is fucked up, but deep down Jihoon knows that every canon that fires gets you and him closer to winning. To surviving.

You spent most of your time sleeping. Jihoon doesn’t care though, because it seems little by little your strength is coming back. Especially with the extra healing cream Soonyoung sent. It came with a note to Jihoon to keep it up and Jihoon thinks it relates to the fake dating act they’re putting on.

Jihoon’s cried multiple times since you got attacked and he spends all of his time coddling you. Soonyoung must think Jihoon is putting on an act for the camera and the Capitol is eating it up, but little does Soonyoung know that Jihoon is genuine in everything he does. Every forehead kiss, every hand squeeze, every sweet word, he means it.

The cream is doing its job though and you’re slowly starting to recover. Your arm has healed nicely and you’re able to stand and even walk a little bit, but your leg is still messed up and it bothers you if you use it too long. Capitol technology is a wonder, but it’s still not perfect. But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters right now.

It’s down to seven tributes. You think about how that means there’s going to be family interviews. Your dad and your sister and Joshua. You miss Joshua. You’re glad the leg that got fucked up isn’t the one that has your bracelet on it because you’d honestly be more upset about the bracelet than your leg.

You’ve been dying lately though. Jihoon keeps coddling you, and it’s not that you don’t like it, but you so desperately hate being a sitting duck. You made Hansol find you a large stick that you’ve carved into a walking stick for you.

You force yourself to get up and walk every once and while. It’s been four days since you got attacked and you’ve been doing nothing for too long. Another island has sunk since then and two tributes have died, one being the other District 1 girl. Nayeon, maybe? That means it’s just three careers, your group of three, and one more tribute left.

The three careers left are the ones you like the least. Seungcheol and Jeonghan from District 2, and Mingyu from District 4. Not only do they have disgusting personalities, but they also pose a large threat to your group, especially now that you’re injured. If you don’t get your leg back in working shape soon, your whole group is in a lot of danger.

It’s the next day when you realize that you’re just about out of food. Your leg has been screaming at you since you woke up and even with the painkillers Hansol keeps feeding you, your leg is still killing you.

“We need stuff,” you groan.

“We’ll go get it, you rest,” Jihoon tells you.

“No,” you protest. “My leg is so stiff, I need to move it. Please. It’ll be okay.”

“No. Remember, you need to take care of yourself. I’m not kidding this time Y/N. Hansol and I will be back soon with food. If I found out you’ve moved from this spot, I’m not going to be a happy boyfriend.” Jihoon’s commanding voice and the use of the word boyfriend has you shutting up.

Jihoon drops a kiss on your forehead before he and Hansol head out in different directions. Just a week ago you were roaming these woods with Jihoon and killing a hog together. Wonwoo was still with you guys and he and Hansol were out finding you guys nuts and fruits. So much has changed since then.

You sigh and reach for the bag. You can luckily grab it without much effort and you grab your piece of wood and your knife out of the bag. If you can’t do anything, the least you can do is go back to your carving.

The sun is starting to move and you’re wondering where the boys are when you hear a blood curdling scream. It sounded like Hansol.

“Sol?” You call out experimentally. No response. He didn’t sound that far away. Dread starts to fill you. Something isn’t right. “Sol?” You struggle to your feet and look around frantically. Where is he?

"Y/N! Y/N!" The voice is panicked and high pitched and it makes your older sibling mode kick into gear. As quickly as you can, you start to race through the trees. Pain shoots up your leg, but you keep going. You’re not sure where you’re going but you need to find him.

"Sol-ah? Hansol!”

You nearly miss it. Nearly miss him while running, but a glint catches your eye and you sprint over. Lying on the ground is Hansol’s body, blood soaks his jumpsuit and his eyes are barely staying open. The glint you caught was his knife, still in his hand. His leg is tangled up in some jungle vines.

“Y/N?” Hansol reaches his hand up and you drop to your knees and grab onto his hand and pull it to your chest.

“What happened? Who did this?”

“The District 2 boy. I got caught in the vines. He found me and I tried to fight him off with the knife but he overpowered me.” His voice is soft, and his breathing is unsteady, his words taking a while to come out.

“I can save you. Like you saved me. I can fix this, just-”

Hansol clutches your hand tighter. “No Y/N, you can’t. You can’t save us all, it’s okay. Jihoon should win.”

You can’t save him. Hansol is going to die and you couldn’t protect him. You grab your axe and start to cut the vines away from his leg. When he’s finally free, you scoop him up and start to walk towards the edge of the island. Your leg is screaming at you, begging you to stop, but you can’t pay attention to it. You can’t when you have to focus on Hansol.

You set Hansol down on the sand and cradle his head in your lap. You don’t care if it’s fake, if it’s just made by the Gamemakers, Hansol deserves to have this. The sky is a myriad of colors over the ocean and you pet Hansol’s hair, trying not to drop tears on him.

It isn’t fair.

“It’s okay Y/N.” Hansol’s hands reach up to grab your face. He uses his last bit of strength to pull you face down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He pats around his jacket pocket before pressing something into your hand.

You press your hands over Hansol’s as his eyes go blank and his arms go limp. You close his eyes and hold his body tight to yours. A cannon goes off. You don’t move until you hear a hovercraft coming to take Hansol. You gently lay his body down and back away as he’s lifted into the air. Your own outfit is now dirty with his blood and your leg is now even worse than earlier, but you don’t care.

You look down at your hand and sitting in your palm are two matching bracelets. Faded, worn leather braided together. District tokens. You clutch them close to your chest. One belonged to Hansol, the other to Chan, his district partner.

“Y/N? Hansol? I heard yelling.” Jihoon pushes through the trees but stops when he sees you on the sand. “Y/N…?”

“He- he- I didn’t even know they were on the island. I don’t know where they came from or where they went but I couldn’t save him and now he’s-,” you can’t continue, your words getting caught in your throat. You wonder if the pain in your chest will be enough to kill you.

“Oh, oh. Oh no.” Jihoon quickly moves to you, sinking down to his knees as well. You bury your face in his chest and sob. Jihoon cries too. Soft, silent tears, his chest taking shaky breaths every once in a while.

You cry and you cry and you cry until it’s it dark out and then you eventually just…stop crying. You’re too dehydrated and your head hurts and you know that crying won’t do anything. It won’t bring Hansol back, and at it sure as well won’t help you avenge his death.

Jihoon helps you back to the shelter and you basically fall to the ground as soon as you get back. Pain is overtaking your whole body and as soon as you hit the ground your eyes white out and the world goes black. Your last thought before you pass out is that there’s only six people left now, and District 2 is going to get it.

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[apastronism]

hi, Cam background done, but i wanna talk about his relationships with some of the ?? "npcs"?? because i couldn't reasonably fit all of that in there, so!

FREYA. Cam's best friend!! They met the same day Cam got dragged to Maitheos, and she had only been there a few days herself. He found her pretty annoying at first, funny enough, but it took maximum of a month to get through to him and get him to open up. She's the one who keeps him in check when he starts getting The Urge To Self-Sabotage. He feels so bad about dragging her into his messes all the time though and has tried to cut things off because she deserves a better best friend, but she's mastered the " stop it, you're being stupid, you're my best friend, I'm staying " talk by this point. Generally a sweetheart, and they have a very "someone will die." "of fun!!" dynamic. Love them <3

DEIDRE. Deidre is....a funny case, because the grudge he has with her is one she doesn't even know about. She's a sweet but temperamental Catholic-adjacent girl with an obsession for Eutheme—despite being picked by Alhari—who has been so sweet to him, and he has left every conversation with her seething for one reason or another. It's somewhat because she's idolizing the gods ( specifically his father but like, she has no idea that Cam and Caeris are the same person ) and he knows flat out that these gods do not care about anyone but themselves. He's one of them, he knows that. It's from knowing he's right about that, but also knowing that even if he told her that, she wouldn't care because she's that obsessive about what she's been taught. That aside, though, he wasn't any healthier than she is at 19, and he gets it, so he kinda sticks around anyway. Kind of a mean older brother who's trying to push her to not rely on gods so much in ways she won't call him out on. He's not happy about it, but he put himself there, so. Rip

MAUZ. Cam first met Mauz shortly after he and Kennedy's parents wound up missing when they brought a relic back from one of their expeditions that they really shouldn't have taken. He got Cam's help because he had suspicions that one of the gods in that circle were responsible, and Cam happened to be in New York at the time. He was right, and they did return what his parents took ( and that alone took a few months to do ), but seeing as it was Niaris that had punished them for screwing with a relic of the past, there wasn't much else to be done about their parents. Kennedy chose to believe they were simply trapped, and Mauz believed they were dead. Regardless of the truth, it was probably? a bad time to consider going out with somebody? but he and Cam did anyway. It was a rushed thing, though, and they weren't actually fit for each other, which led to arguments and them both going to Kennedy for advice, which she eventually stared shutting down with " oh my god, just break up. " So, they did, and Mauz and Kennedy kinda grew apart after that as if it was only her fault. Mauz and Cam don't go out of their way to talk anymore, but if they're in the same circle of people ( and they usually are ), then small talk isn't off the table. Messy, but they're...kind of? Fine now? About their relationship, anyway. Things are still a little tense, just for a different reason. That reason being, ⬇️

KENNEDY. Speaking of messy, after Mauz stared blaming Kennedy instead of Cam, their relationship grew very stressful on top of them disagreeing about what happened to their parents, and after a particularly vicious argument ( about something not worth fighting about, mind you ), she decided that if Mauz wanted to complain about her so much, she could give him something worth complaining about, and she called up Cam. Was it intended to just be for one night? Yes. Was it? No!! That turned into something more serious, and for about four years, they bounced between friends to friends with benefits to dating and they even discussed more long-term things as well. Cam is not good with romance, because he likes to run. But she was the first person he had ever cared for like that, so he didn't run when he probably should have, and she was delusional with him. There was love there, they were just both not stable enough to keep it. They've broken up now for good ( Kennedy's choice bc she wanted to go back to focusing on finding her parents and he was a distraction; good for her ), but they are very clearly still in the Schrödinger's "just friends" phase. They're only platonic dw!! Until one of them messages the other at like 2 am with " hey our playlist is still kinda good isn't it " or whatever and then they get stupid again. Average friend things haha, i am insane about them though, dude was and is genuinely in love with her-

[elpida]

Send 📼 to see an early childhood memory of my muse’s

📼 - for both if you can lol!

Sienna has some really cute ones, Eden? Eden's I'm putting under a read more, it'll be cruel, her father is not a good man. There'll absolutely be a tw for abuse, neglect, childhood trauma. I'll put that one under a read more! Also if you want to picture them as how I think they'd look, Sienna as a little girl wound look like Kim Yoo Bin, Eden would look like Georgie Henley aka Lucy from Narnia when she was little, but make her a bit younger.

Sienna

The world still seemed big and scary, this kind of busy was not what she was used to. She was still used to her little foster home in the countryside but her new parents, the millionth pair it felt like, were big city people and she felt tiny, like the giants around her might step on her and squash her out. She didn't know if she could call them mom or dad yet, so she stood, staring up at them and following behind, she didn't even know if she could keep hold of their hand to feel a big safer. It was all new territory.. it was confusing, being adopted.

Her eyes found something, on a lower shelf there was a stuffed toy. A rabbit, long ears and soft, it looked so soft. She looked up at her Father who was talking to someone and then moved over to the rabbit. Her fingers reached out timidly to pick up one of it's ears and run her fingers along it but promptly put it down when her new Father kneeled beside her. "You like that, the bunny?" he asked, picking the same one up from the shelf. "I think this bunny needs a name, oh! What was that bunny?" he lifted the bunny to it's ear, like it whispered to him and she was entranced by that. "He says that his name is Bowie." because of the bow around his neck. "He's a city bunny you know? They're very brave, I think... Bowie might make you feel a big braver too, don't you?" she nodded her head shyly. Her Father stretched out again, bunny rabbit in one hand and the other extended down to her to take. She took his hand and he made sure that he kept hold of the little fingers that held around his. "You're allowed to ask me for anything sweetheart, anything you want." Little did Sienna know that she'd spent her childhood carrying that bunny rabbit around by it's ears, she even took it in her backpack to her first days at school, and continues to have it in her room, on her bedside, even as a grown adult.

Eden

She was playing with Ben, hide and seek it was meant to be and it was her turn to hide. She ran through the house full of giggles and when she ran into the hallway, she caught one of the side tables, a vase that'd stood there forever flew right off of it and shattered on the tiled floor. Fear instantly ran through her. "Ben- B-Ben!" she called, maybe she'd be lucky.. maybe her Father wouldn't hear the shatter or her fretting. She was just a girl, with shaky fingers, trying to pick up the glass shards to fix it all before he'd ever know but that wasn't how it worked. Ben tried to get to her quicker but the boomed footsteps were already approaching her. "Stupid girl, look what you've done!" he shouted, she squeezed her eyes shut but felt the grip of her Fathers hands pull her to her feet. "It was me Father, it was an accident!" Ben tried to intervene but he simply pushed her older Brother aside. "You stutter like a babbling idiot and now you act an even bigger one? What are you good for, girl? Well? What are you good for?!" he growled at her, snarled, in her mind he was like a vicious dog ready to tear her to shreds.

He did tear her to shreds that day. Her Father gathered up the shards, poured them into a pile, pulled her to them by the shoulder and demanded that she kneel. She stared at him wide eyed, Ben tried to fight him on it but that earned her brother a rare slap and just so he'd stop, she kneeled. She kneeled with bare knee's, over shards of glass and she didn't cry out. She cried silently. "You stay there until I get home, do you hear me?" she nodded her head. "Son don't dare try to help her, or she'll stay there longer. You leave her on her own to think about what she'd done." he warned as he grabbed his jacket, uncaring that his daughters knee's were cut open, that blood leaked to the floor and she tried to stay perfectly still. When he'd gone, when she knew he was not here, she called out for her Mother, her Mom that stayed oblivious, that didn't help when she couldn't got her out of this hell hole. She was just a girl, she did not understand what she'd done so terribly wrong. She'd have fixed the vase if she could've. She'd have cut her fingers open gluing it together if it made her Father happy. He didn't come home for hours and when he did, Eden remained in that kneeled position. The cuts on her knee's scarred, though little and barely noticeable today, they're still there if anyone was to look close enough. Clumsy, he'd tell people. She fell over, cut up both knees, kids will be kids and laugh it off.

The most her Mother did, was quietly clean her wounds, bandage them up, and never talk about it again. She didn't run through her house again after that. Eden does not keep glass ornaments in her own or any glass thing on display to be knocked over.

[acewithapen]

I've got this new tattoo, it reminds me of you

Hi!! Welcome to my fic for Keefitz Week 2023! Thank you so much to Summer (@when-wax-wings-melt) and Avery (@skylilac) for hosting this!! Tragically, I did not finish all of the chapters in time, so keep an eye out!

Read on ao3 here!!

A mix of the prompts, hence the. multichap part.

Keefe Sencen was a maker of bad decisions. Quite frequently, as his friends loved to remind him. In his freshman year of college, his (former) best friend Fitz Vacker had suggested being roommates for their second year. Keefe had enthusiastically agreed. 

But then they’d had a falling out over the summer. And he’d forgotten that they’d put in a request to room together. So there he was: Keefe Sencen, 19 years old, clutching a box (that had all of his decorations) as he stared at Fitz. Fitz who’d changed since July, skin darker and freckles more prominent. And fuck. His hair now had a teal streak that matched the colored contacts he wore. Keefe fought back the blush, and gave him a nervous grin. 

“Hey, Fitz.”

“Keefe.”

“Keefe! Hey, how’s your summer been?” Thank god for Biana. If she noticed anything wrong, she didn’t say anything, just looping an arm around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. 

“Pretty good! You?”

She shrugged, pale cream shirt contrasting beautifully with her skin. “Alright.” She had a dark red streak in her curls, matching Fitz’s. “We went to the beach a lot. Speaking of which! You should come with us on Saturday! There’s one super close, and I think everyone else is free!” 

“I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Clear what? You don’t do anything!” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am a very busy man—” 

She cut him off with a laugh, eyes scrunching up from her grin. “Mhm, sure. Anyway, Fitz, you’re all good, yeah?”

He looked up from where he was putting books on his shelf. “Yep. See you later.”

“Have fun! I love you, don’t be stupid.” Biana hugged her brother, and then darted back to give him a quick squeeze. “I’ll see you on Saturday!” She blows them each a kiss and flounces out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Right…I—I’m gonna go get my bedding.” Keefe fled, leaving the box behind. He grabbed the laundry bag and his pillow, and leaned back against his car. This was such a bad idea. 

Back in their dorm, he unpacked, made his bed, and set up his lights. He’d texted Fitz the week before, the first time they’d spoken since…That Day. He pushed the discomfort aside, and focused on getting his lights to be perfect. They had a bulletin board in between the beds, and he had decided to put a set around it. The lights are star shaped, connected by thin copper wires. He risked a look at Fitz’s side. He had slipped out, claiming dinner plans with his parents. (Keefe called bullshit, but only internally. Alden and Della had gotten divorced in their 6th grade year, and the two tried to stay away from each other.) 

He glanced at the black bookshelf Fitz had brought, already filled with books. Keefe noted with a slight pang of sadness that he hadn’t brought any of the books they’d annotated together. But it was fine. Totally fine. 

He’d eventually settled into his bed, climbing up the ladder. Fitz had taken the lower bed. Something ached in his chest. Fitz remembered. He remembered how much Keefe hated sleeping close to the ground, so accustomed to curling up far above the floor. 

The door slid open and shut, Fitz left in an exhausted slump. He eyed him. Fitz ran his hands through his hair, head against the door. 

“…Fitz? Are you okay…?” Maybe dinner with his parents had actually happened. Fuck. 

“Keefe? You’re here?” 

He couldn’t ignore the sharp concern anymore and scrambled down the ladder. Fitz blinked at him blearily, faded tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get you in bed, okay?” He fell into a similar routine, born of many years. Fitz had always been like this after extended time with Alden. (Keefe had promised to never let Alden near him again, after the last time this happened. Just another way he failed.) 

Fitz stumbled after him, falling face down on his bed. 

“Okay, I know. Do you mind if I help you change? You’re gonna complain if you wake up in jeans.”

He mumbled something, and gave a slight nod. 

“Great!” Keefe rummaged for a pair of pajama pants and a soft pajama shirt—one that proclaimed him as the captain of their Academic Decathlon team, Vacker in bold letters across the back. He helped him into the pants and shirt, and pulled the soft comforter over him. “Sleep well.” 

Keefe left the room. It was just so confusing. They fought, but that was his best friend, but they had screamed until they lost their voices, but he had grown up next to him, and just…ugh. 

He wandered the halls for a while, familiarizing himself with the new dorms. He recognized some of the people, but Foxfire was massive. He followed one of the hallways, nearly tripping over someone. “Oh! My bad, wait. Dex…?” 

The one in question blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Keefe? What are you doing here?”

“I live here. You?”

“Oh, I was helping Tam move in. I live in Onyx.”

Keefe had lived there last year, and he winced in sympathy. “Good luck, dude. You’ll need it.”

“Dex? Is something wrong?” Tam poked his head out, bangs redyed silver. 

“Oh, no! I found Keefe though!” Dex gestured towards him, and Keefe smiled awkwardly. Things had always been…odd around Tam. There was some tension between the two of them, and he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it during high school, and he presumably wouldn’t be able to do it now. 

“Right…who are you rooming with?”

His smile felt painted on. “Fitz.”

Tam’s eyebrows twitched up, and he shared a quick glance with Dex. “Mmm. Well. I’m going to finish setting up.” Tam went back inside. Dex gave him an apologetic smile. 

“I’m gonna go too. You’re going to the thing on Saturday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome! See you then!” Dex gave him a cheerful grin and vanished into Tam’s room. Left alone, Keefe sighed and trudged back to his dorm. Fitz was asleep, and he changed into his own pajamas, keeping the lights off. 

It’s barely 10, but god, he’s exhausted. 

He woke up the next morning to Fitz’s incessant alarm clock, a familiar sound from junior high and high school sleepovers also known as when Keefe would be kicked out. 

Keefe yawned, and it’s second nature to groan good naturedly at Fitz. “Dude, turn it off.” One loud smack later, and he’d drifted back off to sleep. 

He was rudely awakened just a few minutes later. Fitz’s alarm blared again, and he let out a loud complaint. 

“Up and at ‘em, Keefe! You need to get ready.” Curse Fitz and his incessant morning person-ness. 

“Ugh. Fine, but I get the bathroom first.”

Fitz grumbled, but acquiesced, and Keefe slipped inside before he could. That was the nice thing about living in Ruby Hall was that they had attached bathrooms, unlike Onyx where you had to go to the end of the hall. 

He showered as quickly as possible and went back to the main room, dressed in a pair of black pants and a pale green shirt. Fitz slid past him, not saying a word. He sidestepped the already growing pile of shoes to go to his desk, pushed neatly under his bed. 

Keefe sat down, flicking the lights to his mirror. He pushed gel through his hair, making it artfully messy. Once he was done, he turned on his hairdryer, carefully drying his hair. Sophie had made fun of him whenever he was over for group sleepovers, as he had almost always borrowed hers. Well. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t really care about her appearance. He had standards! 

The bathroom door opened and shut, signaling Fitz’s return. He didn’t turn to look, intent on getting his concealer blended out. The habit had started in high school, when he was regularly pulling all-nighters. And so there he was. 

After that, he checked the time. The alarm went off at 7:30, and his first class was at 9, just down the road, in the Topaz Fine Arts Center. As the name suggested, Topaz housed all of the fine arts, other than the auditorium. (That was next door, known as the Gemstone Theater.) It was just now 8:30, and if he hurried, he could swing by the coffee shop for a quick breakfast. 

“Okay, bye Fitz, see you!” He grabbed his backpack and rushed out. He didn’t bother getting his car, instead running down the road to the coffee shop.

“Oh! Keefe, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Marella enthused. 

“Hey, Marella! Can I—”

“Large iced mocha and sausage egg sandwich?” 

“Yep! Thank you!” He paid her, before sliding to the pick up counter. Linh brought over his order, giving him a gentle smile. “Good morning, Keefe.” 

“Hey, Linh! How was your summer?”

“It was good. You’re coming Saturday, yes?”

“Mhm! I’ll see tomorrow morning, probably.”

“Good. Have a good class!”

“Thanks, Linh! Bye!” He dashed out the door, clutching his coffee. His first class of the day was with Prof. Palmore. She taught graphic design, and generally didn’t care if students ate in her class, especially since it went from 9 to 11:30. 

Keefe waved at a few students he recognized, before entering Topaz. It was nice to be back. Quietly he walked down the hall, making sure to not disturb the other classrooms. Most of the campus generally didn’t care, but he’d seen someone cry from too much noise during the second week last year. Generally, it was just a good idea to not bother people. 

Prof. Palmore’s door was open, the woman in question sitting behind her desk. She didn’t have a typical lecture hall, instead setting up shop in the computer lab. 

“Good morning, Keefe.”

“Hey, Prof! How are you?”

“I’m doing well. How about you?”

“Pretty good! Still waiting for the caffeine to kick in.” 

She smiles at him, and he grins back. “Well, why don’t you go ahead and pick a seat? We’ll be jumping right in this year, since this class is solely for recurring students.” 

He nods and takes his seat. Other students slowly trickled in, taking seats around the computer lab. He’s in the back corner, at his favorite computer. Most everyone sticks to the middle and up, but he’d found this spot last year. Sue him, he was attached. 

Sophie dropped into the seat next to him, clutching a massive container of coffee. She looked exhausted, eye bags ever present. 

“Good morning!” 

“Don’t talk to me.” 

She had been taking classes here since high school, testing into the dual credit programs. Plus, their graphic design class always ended with the class here, so you could start your second year of the course as a freshman. 

He took another sip of his coffee and watched as she upended a can of Monster into it. “Soph, it’s day one.” 

She didn't respond. 

His next class was at two, so he swung by to a little hole in the wall diner. Known as The Canteen, it served the best pasta he’d ever had. Inside, one of the workers from last year was there. Ophelia gave him a wide grin, reaching over to give him an elbow bump. “It’s the Keefester! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good! Definitely looking forward to some more of your pesto chicken.” 

She snorts and motions him to follow her. She seats him at his table (again, one of his favorites), and pulls out her notepad. “So. Water, pesto and chicken pasta?”

“Yep! You know me so well,” he laughs and bats his eyelashes. She rolls her eyes playfully and saunters off. He messes around on his phone while he waits, texting back and forth with Biana. She sends him a snap, making half a heart with her fingers. He snaps her back, making the other half. His food arrives a few minutes later and he digs in. 

It’s just as good as he recalls, and soon he’s paying for his meal. His next class—Calculus—is in Peridot, down by the library. The “core” buildings (science, math, english, history) form a loose ring around it, and it’s…fairly common to see someone run from a building to the library and back again. 

He refills his water bottle inside and double checks the room number. It’s taught by a…Professor Glade, so that should be fun. 

Keefe walks in, smiles at the teacher, and goes to sit down. It’s filling up fast, and he makes a note to arrive early to get a good seat. They just go over the syllabus and he makes idle chatter with the person next to him. Their name is Sage, they have bright pink and black box braids, and quite possibly the funniest person he’s ever met. (Excluding himself, of course.) 

They exchange numbers and he waves as he leaves, intent on going back to his dorm. He needs to wrap up an assignment for his graphic design class, properly go over the syllabi he got, and draft up a schedule with Fitz. 

He makes it back to his dorm, relocks the door and kicks his shoes off. At his desk, he pulls out his highlighters and the syllabus from Calc. 

A little past 5, Fitz falls through the door. Okay, not exactly, but definitely close enough. He looks murderous. 

Keefe quickly looks back down. Before summer break, he would have watched. But now…he goes back to reading, making small notes in the margins. Sophie had gifted him a copy of the three books of the Pentecost & Parker series, and he thinks he has solved it when their door bursts open again. 

It’s Tam, who throws a bag at Keefe. “Here’s your stuff.” He leaves just as quickly as he came, door slamming behind him. 

“What was that about?”

“I asked for my stuff back. I guess it works.” The two of them had had a…less than stellar breakup over spring break last year. It had been messy. And dramatic. And hella awkward. 

He opened the bag, pulling out the books and the hoodie. Plus a pair of sweatpants that he’d completely forgotten about. His phone went off and he cursed. “I have to get to the tattoo parlor. I’m working till closing tonight, so I’ll try to not wake you up.”

He bolted out the door, down to his car. It’s a quick drive, and soon he’s pulling into the lot. Renee gives him a grin from behind the counter, wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off the tattoos on her arms. 

“Hey, Renee! How was your summer?”

“It was great! You?”

“It was alright. Do I have anything scheduled?” 

She flips through the logbook. “Two. A mother and daughter here for a basic ear piercing and two people for noses. They’re together. Walkins?”

“That’ll work.” 

She nods, reaching over to get the phone as it rings. “Hi, this is Sea of Ink, how can I help you today?” He hands her a pen and the legal pad, and she gives him a distracted smile. “Mhmmm. We do have a piercer, yes. We’re open all evening, but he won’t be available from 6 to 7. How does 8 sound?” A pause. “Excellent! We’ll see you then!” 

“What do they want?” 

“Helix. Anyway, I’ll be taking my 15 at 7. Do you want me to bring dinner for you?”

“Ooh, yeah sure. How ‘bout Jerry’s?”

“Sounds awesome, I’ll text you my order.” He heads to the back, going to wash his hands and get his supplies. 

It’s a fairly uneventful time. Closing shift is always really chill, especially once Victoria arrives. Her bangs are still white, but she’s dyed her hair a dark blue, and gotten an industrial. It has a rainbow sheen, to no one’s surprise. 

They don’t have many appointments, and Victoria has a firm no walkins policy. Renee hasn’t ever had a problem with telling someone to fuck off if they disrespect that, so they’re all set. 

At ten to eight, he’s sitting on the loveseat, feet up on the seat. He’s reading again, this one a gift from Della. It’s part of a box set of Blood of Olympus series. This time, it’s the Mark of Athena. He’s afraid to write his little notes on the page, so instead he has a stack of sticky notes and tabs. 

Renee is sitting behind the reception counter, a textbook cracked open. Victoria lounges in one of the armchairs, drawing on her iPad. The bell rings as someone walks inside, and he flinches as he looks up. Fitz is here, looking ridiculously out of place. 

“Hi, I’m Fitz Vacker. I work at the new flower shop, you know, the one down the road? It’s called Bouquet Boutique? Anyway, I wanted to give you a bouquet, if you want it.” 

Renee hurries over to take the bouquet, which is made up of pale blue and cream flowers. “Thank you so much!! I’m Renee Bright, and that’s Victoria Parsons. Welcome to Sea of Ink, and we offer a discount to shops on the road. Oh, and that’s one of our piercers, Keefe Sencen!” 

“I thought you said you had to work…?”

“This is my job…?” 

The two stare at each other, before Fitz flushes and turns away. “I should head back, but it was nice meeting you!”

“Same here! See you around, Fitz!” Renee waves cheerfully before she turns to him. “How do you know him?”

Victoria lets out an incredulous laugh. “Dude, you can’t just ask him why they know each other, oh my god.” 

She holds her hands up. “That came out wrong! All I meant was that he doesn’t seem like your…type.”

“My…type?”

“Yeah! I mean, he’s not exactly the kind of person you typically date, yeah?”

“I…we aren’t together!” He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—”

He waves her off. “It’s fine. I should get ready for my next appointment, okay?”

She nods, lips pursed. His client comes in though, clearly used to this. He does it quickly, adding to the piercings slowly climbing up their ears. 

And then he stays until nine, reading and joking around with Renee and Victoria. And that’s that. Rinse, repeat, huh?

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Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you liked it! This has been so much fun to write!