#I'm sure there's a million replies saying that already

[underthehedge]

Ok but the electronic voice was wrong about Loughborough too. It's not lag-boro (/ˈlɑːɡboʊroʊ/), it's luff-buruh (/ˈlʌfbərə/). Ok, boro/buruh is accental differences I guess but yeah, the first ough is an uff sound in that one.

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

[yuyu1024]

Lettuce

Pairings: Mingyu × y/n

Genre/tags: non idol, dating

Warning: 🔞 fluff but still smut, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, sweetheart etc.), cursing, unportected/protected sex (always be safe), kinks (size, breeding, tits, etc), mention of small age gap, mention of low self-esteem/confidence and insecurities

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.6k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: been away. I didnt know if I should post this or delete but then... I dont want effort to go to waste so.. 😅 i hope this is an okay one.

Have a nice day.

Masterlist

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

"Are you still waiting for your ride home?"

You look at the group of girls standing a few feet away from you. They are from the department across your office.

"Is your boyfriend late?" She adds a follow up question

You smile, "I am." You cautiously answer.

They are not your friends so you are not comfortable to share more than that. And also they are known to be the gossipers in the officr so, any details about your personal life would be the next topic for the next few weeks if you share anything with them.

"It's already late... are you sure he's still coming?" One girl asks.

Luckily, the bus arrives just in time for them to hurry in. No time for you to even chat with them anymore.

"Thank goodness..." you sigh feeling relieved.

*pings*

🐶: sorry, im late. 😭

🐶: i helped an old lady cross the street.

🐶: didn't know she would ask me to also help her get boxes of soju in her shop.

🐶: she admitted to pretending to struggle crossing the street so she can ask anyone to help her and his son 🙃 and then made me buy a whole bunch of lettuce.

🐶: like a whoke bunch😶

🐶: you like lettuce right babe?😚

You smile as you read your boyfriend's text. You don't know if its you imagining him pouting because he feels sorry he made you wait or its because he felt used and scammed.

💖: you're so silly.

💖: its still a good deed so its okay 😊

🐶: but i am 10mins late.

🐶: i cant let my princess wait for me.

💖: i can wait. As long as its you... ♥️

You see him read the message and then not reply.

"Hello stranger..."

You got startled when Mingyu embraces you from behind and kissed you on the cheek.

"Yah! You scared me." You slap his arm

"Sorry..." he giggles and kissed you again. This time on the lips.

"Stop..." you say, blushing. "We are outside."

"So...?" He grins and then puts his arm around you. "We are a couple. Who the fuck cares?"

You roll your eyes. "You know people judge..."

"No... they are just jealous because I am dating a wonderful woman..."

You shake your head. "No... they are not jealous because of me..." you push him away. Forcing a laugh. "Probably because you look good in that double denim look."

Here you go again with your self pity and self judging. You always do this. 'This' notion that you are way below over any other girl and that you are just lucky Mingyu is your boyfriend. You always make an effort to put yourself down without even noticing that Mingyu does not like it.

He fucking loves you. Inside and out. From head to toe. From front to back. He even loves it when you are not at your best behavior nor position. He just... loves you. Period.

But on your end, even with a million reassurance, you always doubt yourself for him.

***

Arriving at his apartment, the first thing you did was announce that you are going to take a shower. You didn't even looked at him when you said it. You're not mad at him or whatever. You are just guilty and feel sorry for being down out of the blue. You didn't even talked that much during the ride home.

"Hey..." he takes you by your arm and pulls you close for an embrace. He kissed the top of your head and then forehead. "Take your time... I'm going to cook dinner."

You smile with no teeth showing. "Okay..." your voice sounding almost a whisper.

"Anything in particular you want? We have meat, fish and vegetables... like a lot of lettuce..." referring to the whole plastic the old lady sell him. "You want something with soup or fried? Ramyun or pasta?"

"Hmm... I like pasta... and a salad on a side?"

"Okay... as you wish my princess..."

The whole apartment smells like a five star restaurant. The fragrance is to die for and makes your mouth water. When you got out of the bedroom, hair still damp, you got suprised by how extravagant Mingyu arranged the dining area. Fancy plates, lit candles, wine glasses and a bottle of his favorite red win. All of a sudden, iy felt like you entered an Italian restaurant wearing your baby pink pajamas and hello kitty slippers.

"Hi, babe." Mingyu is a ray of sunshine while putting on a few more finishing touches on the table. "Ready to eat?"

"Aww..." your heart is aching with pure joy. He is the sweetest man alive.

You stumble your way to him, caused by your own feet. He managed to catch you giggling with you. You look silly but he find it cute. And then as your eyes met he immediately captures your lips for a kiss. Small pecks that got deeper and more seductive. The kisses are loud that it echoes and bounce off the walls of the apartment. He can't also stop touching every curve of your body. From your hips, to your ass and to your tits. He even lifted your shirt so he can access your bra and yank one side down exposing you boob.

"M-mingyu...." you giggle as you try to pull away from the kiss. He does not want to let you go. He keeps on chasing your pink lips whenever a gap starts to build in betweem his. "We need to eat... the food will get cold..."

He didn't answer. He leans lower so he could give love on your exposed bud. He suck it first before he lets his tongue lick it and make your squirm.

"M-mingyu..." you inhale. "The food...?"

He finally lets you go, smiling. "Fine." He chased one more kiss. "But after we eat..." and another one. "I'd like to go straight to dessert." And another one. "You know I love my dessert." He says, bitting his lower lip while grinning like a mad dog.

"You're crazy!" You pinch his nose.

"Crazy over you..." he growls and suddenly picks you up off the floor. He puts your legs around his waist and you automatically hang your arms over his shoulder to hold on.

"Yah!"

"I can't wait. I think I want to begin our dinner with dessert first." His eyes is filled with desire and he is ready to wreck you.

Kicking the door open to your bedroom, Mingyu lays you down gently but in a hurry at the same time. He is on a mission. He is not going to make love to you. He will FUCK your brains out tonight. You know that look in his eyes.

"No condoms... I need to feel you... skin to skin..." he pulls his shirt off and throws it, hitting the wall, then begins to unbuckle his belt and pants. "And I'll like to fill you up until it leaks out of your pussy." He adds, grinning

"Oh God..." you try to get a hold of yourself. Not ready for what is coming

He pushes down his pants and underwear in one go. His length springs free and is up, steady and hard. It's tip glistening with pre cum.

"Turn around..."

You do as he says and go on fours on top of the bed. He pulls your pants down, revealing a bare and wet pussy ready to be torn.

"No panties huh..."

You blush. "Well... I know we'll have sex today... I just didn't know its going to be this soon..."

Mingyu hovers on your back, hand sliding up and down your curves. "Do you want me to stop and just go on with dinner?"

You lower your heard, embarassed, even though he's not seeing how turned on and red you are. "No... I would never say no to you..." after a few breaths in you look back, cheeks red and warm. "You know sex with you is my only addiction."

"Fuck yeah it is..." he says proudly and satisfied

He eases himself in, slowly but deliciously. He skipped prepping you. He can't wait anymore. His dick is aching and wanting to feel your walls.

"I'll be a little rough to you today, babe." He smacks your ass and a moan escapes your lips. "I didn't like what you did earlier..."

"Ughhh!" He slams strong and consistent. It's driving you insane how he could hit the very back of your cervix. Actually he could hit every thing inside you. Thats how long and thick he is. "W-hat... what did... I do?" You arch your back and pushed your upper body up so he can embrace you and touch your body as he thrust your brains out.

"You know..." he grunts as he adjusts and tries to go deeper, even though he is already at the deep end of your insides. "I don't like it... when you don't appreciate yourself..." he inhales and exhales as he feels you clench and make it tighter. "Fuck! Babe!" He kisses the curves of your neck and bites on your shoulder when he feels the tightness thats make it fucking sensational for him

You ubotton your top to give him access to your chest. You didn't unhook your bra though. You just pulled the ladies out and the bra helps give them a push up.

"You are beautiful... sexy... and a wonderful woman..." he pushes your hair out of his way so he can kiss your neck. "Love yourself... the way I love you."

He then pulls out, almost making you cry and beg. But them makes you turn around to face him.

"Can you?" He asks with the most loving eyes

You crash your lips to his. Pushing your tongue in him. You didn't stop until you hear a moany cry from your boyfriend. His brows then creases when you playfully bite his lower lip. "I want to..."

"But what?" He carries you off the bed and pins you to the wall, beside the window of your bedroom. Your one leg touching the ground while the other is hooked over his forearm. "Answer me, babe."

He slams back in you. Stronger and much deeper. Which confused you coz how? Its not like your cervix can expand. But thats what it felt when he slammed you. It didn't hurt. It felt insane actually. Insanely goodm

"You are kind... sweet... caring... hardworking... knows what you like and dislike... respectful..."

You are catching your breathe in your throat. Its like you are choking from excess pleasure. You try to speak but you can't let go of the high. So instead of speaking, you just shook your head.

"You don't agree?" He asks. Mingyu looks at you with his puppy eyes and showered you with kisses. Then he kept repeating all the good qualities you have as a person and even physically.

He really is telling you every bits about you. Everything that he loves and dislike but accepts coz it is you. It is part of you. He really do love you.

"What can I do... to reassure you?"

You put your hand over his mouth. Not to shut him down but to hush him for a second. Just for a moment until you get it all out for him.

"Fuck me!" You cry as you can't help but  cry more of his name. You are so close to your orgasm. "Nggghhhh...!"

You shut your eyes ready to explode but then Mingyu pulls away from your hand, takes you back in bed to finish, when he suddenly says the two words you didn't expect him to say while he's fucking your brains out

"Marry me..." he says.

Your eyes opens, looks at him in pure shock and bliss. "W-wha..." you can't finish your words. He was hammering you. You can't answer. "Mingyu!" You moan his name so loud when your world spun around.

"I love you." He grunts as he see you melt and when he pushed into you a few more times, he finally begins release himself you. All the warmth and every drop of him in you. "Fuck!" He exhales, dropping his body on you but not his weight. "I love you..." he says again. "So much..." he kisses your shoulder and then your cheek. "So... what do you say?" He smirks

"Suddenly?" You look at him, confused.

"Hmmm..." he scrunches his nose, still wearing the smile on his lips. "Not really..."

He then gets up, pulling out of you, which felt like you got more naked than what you are now. More exposed.

"Wait lemma clean you first."

He runs into the bathroom and takes a towel to wipe you clean. Just clean enough to be presentable but not totally wipe his seeds off you. He wants that in there.

And then he runs out of the room.

"Where are you going? Babe?" You are confused. Why is your man running outside the bedroom ass naked

Giggling as you see him comeback in and carrying the plastic bag of lettuce.

"Huh? What's that for?" You sit up and wrap the thin white blanket to your body.

"I lied. Well... we still going to have salads and all..." he is mumbling. "This should be over dinner... but... I could not help myself earlier so..."

"Mingyu... what is going on...?"

Laughing but still trying to pull a serious face. "It was true that an old lady sold me this but... as I was helping her she took the paper bag the came wit this... and I panicked." He sits down beside you. "I didn't want to put it in my jacket or pocket coz... it will be obvious... and when we walk and your cold you always put your hand in my jacket's pockst so..."

"Mingyu!" You grab his face and kissed him. To make him focus. "Just say it..." you are giggling now too.

"Okay..." a soft smile spreads to his lips. "I know... you may think... I'm still young and naive."

"No you're not..."

"Yeah but... still... anyways..." he nervously laughs. "Like I said... you are an amazing woman. Anyman who you choose to love will be the luckiest. And thankfully its me..." he then goes down to his one knee and pulls out a black box from the plastic of lettuce. "I said I didn't like what you did earlier... you looking down at yourself... but that does mean I hate you or mad at you for it... I just say that because I care.. I want you to feel... assured and happy." He opens the box and shows the most brightest ring you ever saw in your life. "If I have to always reassure you for the rest of our lives... I don't fucking care. I am up for it. I love you and I can't live a day without you." Pulling out the ring and taking your hand. "Please marry me... I will serve you and love you forever..."

You watch him put the ring on your finger.

"So...?" He looks at you with doe eyes

Letting go of the blanket covering your body, you launch yourself to him, making you guys fall on the floor. "I love you Kim Mingyu..." you say first before kissing him. "Forever is not a bad idea..." you kiss him again. "Of course I will accept."

"Sorry if I proposed to you after sex... at diner would've been fantastic"

"Don't say sorry... I do love your way..." you get up from embracing him. "It brings back to how we started."

He sits back up. "Right."

Then you stare at your ring. "Who could've guessed that... I will be marrying the guy I met and fucked at a friend's birthday?"

[bunnys-kisses]

the group chat (charles' version)

charles leclerc

cw: smut/pwp, filming, sub!charles, collars, oral sex (cunnilingus), pussy drunk!charles,

want a different driver? here's the full selection!

it was the morning after the 2024 monaco grand prix, while most were up early to get ready to catch flights. no one expected to hear from the winner of the race, charles leclerc.

around nine in the morning a notification popped up from the group chat. most ignored it, thinking it was someone bitching about something while on an overpriced private jet. but for the curious few who opened the file, they were greeted to something else.

you held the camera, while you were laid out on the expensive hotel bed. you made a soft moaning noise when charles used your thighs to gain leverage to move in between your legs.

he rested his head on your abdomen, he looked freshly showered but there was a little glimmer of gold in the frame. when he moved himself up, the camera caught the red leather of a collar around the grand prix winner's throat.

"you look so good, charles." you reached out for him and he rested against your palm for a moment.

his tongue darted out to lick his lips, he looked visibly calm like he had done this a million times. his hands were spread across your thighs.

"thank you, ma'am." he replied. oh, well, that was revelation about the ferrari driver.

"why did you want me to film this again? you're not a sick little freak, are you? you're a good boy for me?"

he scratched his neck nervously and beamed at your praise, "i thought it would be a little something for the others." while most would've filmed their partner performing acts on them, charles wanted to see the magic he could pull.

he was, after all, a good boy.

you pinched his cheek playfully and he chuckled, "anything you'd like to say to the boys who are watching this video?"

there was a gleam in his eyes as he said, "i'm going to show you how to really pleasure a woman. and i'm talking particularly to you, max." then smiled with all of his teeth before he kissed your inner thigh.

you moaned at the tenderness, it shot heat through you body. charles was considerate like that, he honestly preferred to make you finish over him. you kept the camera steady on him as he got your legs over his shoulders.

he looked up at the camera for a moment and gave a smirk to it before he closed his eyes and trailed his tongue across your cunt. you were already soaked, before you started recording he had spent about fifteen minutes slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your sex.

you felt your breath hitch as you felt the heat curl in your body. you did your best to keep the camera trained on charles as he continued to lap at your sex like a hungry dog. there was nothing else on his mind, he wanted to make sure his girlfriend got all the pleasure she needed.

he pushed his hair back for a moment and panted, you could see the sweat on his neck and forehead. it was getting heated in the room, the intimacy between you two was like being near a campfire, the heat traveled through your bodies.

"you're such a good boy, charles. you did so good for me." you praised as you combed your fingers through his hair.

he seemed visibly relaxed, like this was the kind of headspace he wanted to be in. he yearned for your praise, it lit a fit in his stomach and made his bare cock twitch against the bed spread.

that'll be dealt with after the video ended.

for now he was to be between your legs, lapping at your poor pussy with such vigor that it made your heart beat in your ears. you softly moaned and panted, you felt hot to the touch.

he pulled his mouth away, his pupils were larger and his cheeks were pink. his chin glistened with your wetness in the low light of the hotel room. he looked already like the pleasure had overridden his brain.

you knew his cock was aching by this point. he rubbed your clit with his thumb and panted. between pants he said, "i love being your good boy." he swallowed, "no higher honor." then gave a pleased smile.

you reached for him and combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the wet strands between your digits, "you just want to show the others how messy you can get, huh? show them how good you are for me?"

he nodded before he kissed your pussy before he went back to orally pleasuring you. he felt a shiver through his body was he pressed your thighs against his head and groaned against your pussy.

praise came off your tongue easily. there was something about seeing such a high profile man be so dedicated to getting you off. sex was like another sport, with another prize. and he was dedicated to coming in first. his noises were loud and sloppy, his devoured your cunt like a man with a single minded purpose.

you gripped onto his hair and the phone as he continued his motions across your clit. the heat in his cheeks only rose the more he became obsessed with your pussy. he was almost drunk on you, his head swam.

heavy breathing filled the air and your shifted a little bit. this caused him to plant both hands on your hips to keep you down. he pulled his mouth away once more and swallowed, he looked at you and said, "i can't let you do that, madame."

he leaned in and his tongue was heavy once more on your pussy. he was slobbering like a dog as he took his fill of your sweet cunt. it was hard for you to keep you composure as you felt the heat radiate through your body.

you continued to film him as you felt closer to your orgasm. it thrummed through your body as you laid under him. he was happily lapping at your pussy, maybe the collar was a good choice for a hound like him. he kept his hands splayed out on your thighs and he really worked your pussy.

"charles."

he looked up at him and you could see the gleam of your wetness on the tip of his nose. he panted against your clit, his hot breath against your wet pussy. it made you groan and him chuckle.

he loved the sight of you, the taste of you. it instilled a feeling of pride in his chest. he was a good boy.

you held onto him tightly as he pushed you past your peak. over the sound of his mouth against your clit was the sound of your loud moan as you climaxed.

"shit, charles." you panted wildly as you curled your toes and tensed up. you soon relaxed, the phone almost tumbling out of your hand. you groaned, "holy shit, charles."

"of course, mon amour." he pulled away and swallowed, he looked like he was out of his mind at that moment. he wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth and gave a sloppy grin, "th..that felt good." he rubbed his painfully erect cock onto the bed.

you patted his cheek lovingly, his collar gleamed in the light, "now why don't i send this video and we can work on you next."

charles basked in your affection as he said, "oui, madame."

the video ended, and charles send the video after you rode his cock. after he sent the file he attached an additional message that said, "jealous?"

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best - Jungkook (part 5)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook’s feeling down lately.

After leaving Sewoon in the club, he hopped on his motorcycle and started driving until he reached his own home. Opening the front door he looked around and was emerged by this void feelling. He didn't know what was going on and why he felt the way he did. It wasn't a normal reaction of his. His night even went okay, he was having fun with his friends and kissed the girl he was in love with. How come everything turned out to this shitty. 

Then he remembered Y/n, the way she spoke with him before leaving. Did he say something he wasn't supposed to? Was she mad because of the guy she was sad for? He picked up his phone and called her, not once, not twice but four times. In any of those tries did she pick up.

“Hey Y/n. Just wanted to let you know I’m home and safe. I’m sorry the way things went out tonight, it was a very confusing night. Are we good? We never fought before and I'm lost here. I just-- I want you to know I care about you Y/n, a lot. Never forget that”  

Five minutes later: 

“Please call or text me when you get the chance so I know you are okay and we can talk about it” 

"Don't leave me in the dark Y/n. I'm beggin you. Talk to me or else I'll lose it"

Nothing. After millions of calls and text the response was not what he was expecting and it was driving him insane. Breathing heavily he sent one last text

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

Sitting down on his couch waiting for a call or reply from you was being a nightmare. It's been an hour and he got nothing from you. He fucked up bad. "Shit”. Then his phone started ringing and he answered it so quickly he didn't have time to see who it was, almost dropping it midway.  

“Hello?” 

“Hi Jk.” Sewoon replied on the other side. “Did you get home already? I wanna apologize for the way I spoke earlier about Y/n. You’re right, I shouldn’t have take it so easily and said those things. Were you able to talk to her after?” 

“Ahhh Sewoon. No I didn’t. She's probably asleep. I’m sure she’s alright.” Jungkook said nervously. “she better be. She’s not home either. I went there and no response” Sewoon said and Jungkook mind stopped working. What does she mean she's not home either? Did she really went out with some guy? She was never the one to behave like this. Only if she was --

“Jk are you listening to me? Can I come over to yours? Leaving Y/n aside for a bit, I thought we could have some fun I saw how stressed you were before. I want to help you shake it off a little, like old times”

Jungkook could only laugh to himself thinking how crazy he was when he said “I’m sorry Sewoon, not today. I’m tired and wanna get some rest okay? I'm sorry. If you get any info on Y/n, please tell me yeah? Just to be sure she really is okay. Sleep thigh"

Dropping his phone next to him, he turned the tv off, went to his bedroom, laid down and tried to find a way to sleep

----- 

Y/n called her manager the next morning asking for some days off, caliming she was having some personal issues and needed some time to fix them. The manager put no restraining to that, giving her a week off since she never missed work and was a great employee. She knew that too damn well.  She spent her life that goddamn coffee shop trying to earn every penny she could .

After drinking with Lisa and clean the mess they made she tried to get some sleep. Everytime she was about to close her eyes her phone screen would light up. She would look at it. Another notification from Jungkook and one in particular from Sewoon saying “you better had some fun tonight bitch because you leaving the club with someone else ruined my night. Jungkook lost his mind thinking you were in trouble. Call me up".

Y/n couldn’t help but sigh. Was her best friend always so self centered? How come she never noticed it? She turned her phone off and rolled over, finally being able to get some rest until she wakes up with a loud bang on the door and Lisa walking in full of excitement.  

“Good morning lady. Did you pack your stuff already? Pack warm things, a book or two, some pair of boots and lots of socks. We’re going to the snow. Oh and our flight is in about 5 hours. Hurry up”  

You didn’t know if you wanted to kill Lisa or thank her for being such a light in the middle of the storm going in your head and your heart. The next few hours were a rush. Between preparing things, buying others, organizing documents and being ready in time to go to the airport and checking in. In all this time, Y/n hasn't responded to either Sewoon or Jungkook. It was better this way. It was too much on her plate. A burden she had no need to carry.

After all the stress to get there on time they finally managed to sit down in their seats and recover from all the rush. Y/n wasn't definitely used to all of this. After a bit of silence she turned to Lisa and said  

"Jungkook called and texted me several times last night. And Sewoon too. It made me question the context of her text."  

“what do you mean?” Lisa questioned. 

"Basically she blamed me for ruinning her night with Jungkook after I left the club." Y/n retorded. Lisa opened her mouth but then closed it. Y/n wishes she had said what she was going to say, but instead she questioned "Did you answered any of them?" Y/n shakes her head "Good. These days we will have our phones turned off. No Jungkook, no Sewoon and no worries. Let's just have fun and create some badass memories. Deal?”

Y/n has to make sure that after all this mess gets better, to thank Lisa for everything she's been doing for her. Not that she hasn't already. She's so glad she came back into her life at a time like this. It made her compare Lisa to Sewoon. Where was Sewoon in the most difficult moments of your life?

"Deal"

A bit of sadness hits Y/n. She holds Lisa's hand and mouths "thank you" squeezing it tightly. You are going to get through this, like you managed before but this time with someone who truly cares and you couldn't be more relieved by it

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

@esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Hii lovely!! I'm not sure if it's alright but just hear me out. maybe a fic stalker theo completely obsessed w reader, maybe kinda dubcon but if not i totally understand !!

Very convenient timing considering I just read Haunting Adeline this weekend. I kinda used one of the parts in it for the instigation, but I hope this works!

Fuck Off

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: DUB/NONCON PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, stalking.

18+ Minors DNI

You've had a stalker for a few months now. They would leave gifts outside your dorm to begin with. Then they started showing up in your dorm. The gifts were sweet and tailor specifically to your likes and wants, which you couldn't decide if that made it creepier or not.

The gifts weren't the only thing you got from your stalker. They would also send you texts from an unknown number. They weren't threatening or anything that suggested harm to you. Maybe creepy since they'd talk about what you were doing in that moment, even when you were completely alone. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were sexual. And you hated to admit it, but they knew exactly how to talk dirty to you, they could get you worked up so easily. It freaked you out but you weren't in danger. Right?

You were sitting in your bed reading, unwinding from the hectic day you just had when your phone went off for a text notification. It startled you out of your little world and you opened the message.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you're reading?”

Your stalker again.

“A few times.” You replied. At this point, you've given up ignoring them since they'll just keep messaging you until you respond.

“I'll tell you a million more times. You should be reminded every day how beautiful you are.”

“You already do that.”

“Maybe next time I say it, I can say it while my cock's buried deep inside you.”

“Pervert.”

“Only for you. You know you drive me insane. You make me so hard just sitting there. Especially since I know the filth you're reading. You're not so innocent yourself, bella.”

You looked at your phone for a moment before looking around. You did read dirty books, but only in your dorm. Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to it.

“You won't find me, amore mio. You should know this by now.”

“Fuck off.” You replied, angry at him for how he's treating your privacy.

“Careful, principessa. If you say that again, I'm gonna come fuck that little pussy of yours.”

You scoffed, disgusted by his words. Would he really come do it? No. Was part of you also curious if he would and wanted to see who he was? Yeah. That's why you couldn't stop yourself from replying.

“Fuck off.”

“You're in for it now, cara mia.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. Your eyes felt heavy after a while and you put the book aside to fall asleep.

The next day, you got up and headed for the showers, getting ready for the day. You stripped and got under the hot water of the shower, relaxing for a moment before starting your shower routine.

You always got an eerie feeling of someone watching you or being right there when you closed your eyes while rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of your hair. This time, though, when you opened your eyes after rinsing out the conditioner, there was someone right in front of you. You knew him, of course, everyone did. Theodore Nott.

You screamed and backed away from him, hitting the shower wall while you covered your body as best as you could.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled.

“I'm not going anywhere, cara mia.” He smiled. You noticed he was fully clothed as he stepped towards you, drenching his clothes from the shower.

“You? You're the fucking creep that's been stalking me?” You made the connection after hearing him call you the same pet name as your stalker.

“If you recall that little conversation last night, I told you I'd come fuck you if you told me to ‘fuck off’ again, which you did.” He took another step closer, his shoes nearly touching your toes. “And I don't make empty threat, principessa.”

“I could scream right now and someone will come in and stop you.” You threatened, hoping to deter him.

“I'm hurt you think I'm so stupid. I put a silencing charm on the room and looking charm on the door so no one could come in and you can't get out.” He said as he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your face.

You flinched from his touch, closing your eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?” You whisper.

“I'm gonna make you feel so, so good, bella.” He said and moved to kneel in front of you.

As soon as his knees hit the tile, you pushed him out of the way and ran out of the shower, trying not to slip.

“I already told you, you cant get out, cara mia.” He called out to you.

You ignored him and tried the door to the bathroom. Wouldn't even budge. You didn't have your wand on you either since you were showering. Hands wrapped around your waist and you fought against him, kicking back to hit him, which just ended up making you both fall to the ground. He was much quicker than you, propping you on your knees so your face was down and ass up for him while he held your hands behind your back. You couldn't see him from this angle, but felt his tongue flick your clit, making you moan.

“You act like you don't want me, but your soaking, cara mia.” He said before licking and sucking at your clit.

Your words died in your throat, replaced by a moan leaving your mouth instead.

“Your body knows what it wants, amore mio.” He licked up to your entrance, prodding his tongue inside.

“Fuck.” You moaned, eyes rolling back before closing.

He moaned against you and kept his onslaught of pleasure on your pussy until you came.

“That's my good girl. That's what I wanted.” He said as he helped ride out your high.

“To force yourself on me?” You asked as you caught your breath once the orgasm faded.

“To make you feel good, principessa.” He shuffled behind you a bit as he kept a hand holding yours down still. You could hear the sound of his pants being undone.

“I think there could've been another way to fuck me that didn't involve stalking and harassing me.” It probably wasn't a smart move to mouth off to your stalker, but you were so angry. You pulled your hands out of his grip and tried taking off, but he just grabbed your legs, making you fall back on your stomach.

“I think you like this, though. I see how soaked you are from this.” He pulled you back onto your knees and held onto both your wrists with both of his hands. His cock teased your entrance, coating it in your arousal.

“You think I like you forcing yourself on me?” You said, hissing from how sensitive you were when he nudged your clit.

“You haven't told me to stop.” He said before thrusting into you, immediately bottoming out and making you cry out. “You're practically dripping from how wet you are for me, cara mia.”

You couldn't even deny that, maybe you were crazy, but you were embarrassingly wet from all this.

He started thrusting in and out of you, his grip on your wrists tight, bruises will probably form later from all of this.

“Not even trying to fight back anymore. You finally accepting that you're enjoying this?” He asked, letting go of your wrists to grab your hips. “Or maybe I got you too cockdrunk on me. Is that it? Am I making you feel so good you can't talk?” His voice was condesending.

“Fuck off.” You said, clawing at the floor to grip something.

“You love testing me, principessa. I don't mind. I'm happy to put you in your place each time.” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You can stop acting like you hate this. I can feel you clenching my cock like you can't get enough of it.”

“As if.” You said between moans. He was hitting you so deep and fast, it had another orgasm building quickly.

“Keep talking like that and next time I'll have to punish you, amore mio.” He said, moving a hand from your hip to grip your hair. “How about you be a good girl instead and cum on my cock for me, yeah?”

“Fuck, shit!” You cried out, so close to cumming.

“Scream my name when you cum. Wanna hear how it sounds from those pretty lips.” He groaned, he was getting close himself. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, principessa.”

You came around him, trembling as his name fell from your lips over and over.

“That's the most beautiful sound I've ever fucking heard. Shit!” He said before moaning, his hips stilling as he came inside you, filling your pussy with his cum.

He pulled out as you both caught your breaths and stood back up, quickly redoing his pants before pulling out his wand and undoing the spells. He left the bathroom without another word to you as you slowly got up and went back to the shower to scrub the filth of what you'd done off of you.

And hopefully convince yourself that you didn't enjoy that.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod. 

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too. 

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier. 

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar." 

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always. 

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups. 

“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle. 

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.” 

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded. 

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?” 

 "Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work.  I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you. 

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet. 

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date. 

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement. 

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season. 

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.” 

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.” 

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself. 

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

 Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?” 

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.” 

“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity. 

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?” 

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?” 

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip. 

“I’m sure I will.” 

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.” 

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you. 

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised. 

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though. 

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible. 

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already. 

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it. 

Or at least he hoped you would. 

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall. 

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture. 

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.” 

“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?” 

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.” 

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter. 

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here. 

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad. 

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into. 

“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread. 

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off. 

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off. 

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.” 

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place. 

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed. 

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did. 

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well. 

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop. 

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking. 

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.” 

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite. 

It ended up being really good carbonara. 

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.” 

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. ��I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back. 

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction. 

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.” 

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down. 

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?” 

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod. 

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult. 

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again. 

“May I?” 

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt. 

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?” 

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.” 

Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned. 

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. 

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle. 

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken. 

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying? 

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.” 

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away. 

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher. 

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch. 

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.” 

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around. 

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins. 

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?” 

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking. 

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you. 

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad. 

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.” 

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something. 

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch.  “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?” 

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again. 

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one. 

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes. 

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you. 

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you. 

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook. 

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.” 

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little. 

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer. 

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air. 

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty. 

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose. 

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious. 

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him. 

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself. 

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.” 

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.” 

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch. 

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you. 

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?” 

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.” 

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans  all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it. 

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine. 

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?” 

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable. 

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum. 

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.” 

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon. 

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him. 

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?” 

You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.” 

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through. 

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?” 

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.” 

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you. 

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase. 

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator. 

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.” 

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of  tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else. 

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood. 

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye. 

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way. 

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink. 

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.” 

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?” 

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more than a bet at this point for him.

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[aangelinakii]

aj!!! your work is so beautiful i think i’ve reread it like a million times already!! this is so cliche but i was thinking of oblivious friend!reader dressing up to the nines for a gala and honestly being so fun and charming with everyone but still making time to hang out with jason on the side of the room 🥺 and OOP they both have a crush on each of they’re really hesitant to make a real move 🫣🫣🫣 bonus points if jason says something like you have beautiful eyes when DRUNK at the end of the night 🫢🫢🫢 also on a side note your roy imagine was SO GOOD it hurt my soul i think about it frequently

BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

— we should stick together.

summary : you're the lady of the hour at the birthday party your best friend's family has thrown for you, but you'll always be able to make time for him.

note : THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFGGGF IM LITERALLY CRYINGGGG PLS REQUEST AGAIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NOTE 2 : FEMALE READER SORRY IK YOU DIDNT SPECIFY BUT IT FELT EASIER FOR ME TO DESCRIBE AS I AM A LADYY

warning : this May be my magnum opus

jason didn't think you could ever look any more gorgeous than you already looked every day; each day he saw you, even the times you had major bedhead after waking up, or the times you had a bit of vomit on the corner of your lip from puking in the toilet after a night of clubbing — and he was the one holding back your hair.

not that he would say it, but he'd do anything for you. and not that you would say anything either, but you knew he would, and you'd do the same for him. i'm not too sure if he knows that.

but when you began to step down the foyer of the wayne mansion, chandelier overhead causing your hair to shine, the sparkles on your dress to glitter, and your pearly smile to glint, jason can't deny the weakness in his knees, prepared to fall to them and worship.

he'd have to thank stephanie later, who was trailing behind you smugly in her own formal attire, for her involvement in helping you get ready.

from beside him, dick clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to sway, and the drink in his hand to spill a little over the rim. "wow, she looks amazing," he whispered into jason's ear, that cheeky smile on his face already evident in his tone. "everyone's gonna want to have a bit of her tonight, you'll have to reserve a spot to dance with her. you will dance with her, right?"

it wasn't ideal, dick knowing the way jason felt about you; it was like any moment he could, he just trolled him for it, threatened to let it out to the entire world.

"shut it, dick," jason replied discreetly through gritted teeth, taking a sip of his slightly-emptier champagne to disguise him saying anything at all.

sometimes it was fun referring to dick, because you could never tell if you were calling him by name, or insulting him. in this case, i'll make it easy for you — it's an insult.

nevertheless, already used to jason's verbal abuse, dick flashed a grin and stepped forward to meet you at the bottom of the grand red-carpeted steps.

"happy birthday, pretty lady," dick sang as he wrapped a chaste arm around your shoulders, careful to not over-impose, despite his words.

the beautiful song of a laugh brushed past your painted lips, revealing your perfect teeth — even if not straight, or perfect in the dictionary sense, jason adored your smile, revelled in it. it was perfect to him, if nothing else. "thanks, man," you hummed in return, giving him a platonic squeeze around the shoulders, too.

when you pulled away, your eyes met his. jason's. your best friend's, your one true love's, your soulmate's. just best friends, just one unrequited true love, just platonic soulmates. you were sure of that; that he didn't feel the same way.

as soon as those glittering eyes connected with his, jason gave a quick intake of breath, nervous, practically floored by just one look. he placed his glass down on the ledge of the wall behind him and smoothed down the front of his maroon waistcoat with his other hand, mentally calming himself as you stepped toward him.

immediately, despite your usual closeness, an immense chasm seemed to linger between you. it wasn't everyday you saw each other get so decked up; and jason looked great.

contrasting to before, you let out a more uneasy laugh, arms beginning to raise to pull your best friend into a hug. as much time you spent together, not a lot of it was spent in each other's arms, unsurprisingly. it didn't come naturally, but, finally, once you figured out how to approach the action, your bodies fit together like matching puzzle pieces.

chin coming up to his broad shoulder, you made an effort to not smear lipstick on his jacket, but you couldn't help but feel the urge to sink into him.

"thank you so much," you whispered softly against his neck, arms squeezing his torso tightly, causing a laboured chuckle to ache through him.

careful not to squeeze too much, jason reciprocated the affection, unable to push down a smile. "anything for you, (name). seriously."

but as you pulled away carefully from his body, softly inhaling his oud cologne, you wished that was true. however, it didn't go unacknowledged that he was the reason for this party in the first place. maybe he would do anything.

jason todd, event hater, planning a birthday party for his best friend in wayne manor, inviting all his family you'd come to know and love, your own closest family, and the friends he'd met through you, along with his own friends you'd met through him.

when you peered up at him from beneath dark black eyelashes, you could see an expression on jason's face you'd never caught before; smile the widest you'd ever seen it, although his top two teeth seemed to be sinking into the gum on the inside, trying to hold it back — impossible — and his pale green eyes had halved into crescents, the colour of them almost unnoticable now. but he was happy. looking at you, he seemed so happy.

and your expression bled into the same; same smile, same crescent eyes, cheeks aching with how hard you smiled.

"i better go see everyone else," you finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, almost silent against the music that had began to play overhead. just before you turning away, your fingers grazed the fabric of the jacket cloaking his forearm. "thanks again. i'll try catch you later."

with that, you disappeared into the crowd — so many people here for you, all because jason wanted them to be — and jason was finally able to let out the breath he'd been holding.

over the night, jason found himself searching for you in the foyer of people, you in your dress, so radiant that no one else had chose it in that colour. no matter where you were, who you were with, you always found a way to stand out, even unintentionally. and it was by no means a bad standing out, it was admirable.

in fact, jason found himself admiring you a lot.

a few hours had gone by, and you were making your rounds, always seeming to pass him by. even if you were clearly on your way to him, someone else managed to whisk you away for another conversation. he was selfish to have organised your birthday party, and still expect your entire, undivided attention.

by now, he'd decided to escape, deeply irritated by a comment timothy drake had made about the way he'd styled his hair — "for once," he'd said, "and it looks horrific." jason knew tim was just pulling his leg, as he tended to do, but he'd already had four glasses of champagne and was missing his best friend, so he disappeared to get some air on one of wayne manor's various balconies.

behind him, the door creaked open, and his immediate response was to go to the defensive. "hey, i'm kinda looking to be alone right now." his voice was gruff, slightly slurred, eyebrows furrowed. but everything dissipated as soon as he saw who had joined him.

"even from the birthday girl?" you'd hummed hopefully, the softness of your smile, and the slight haze of your made-up features from a few drinks, thawing his heart.

watching as the corners of his lips began to tip up, you knew you had your answer, and stepped out onto the stone, carefully closing the glass-paned door behind you.

jason's eyes remained on you as you joined him, unable to stop them running down your form. how could he help it when you looked so amazing in that dress?

after a few beats, jason pulled his — what, fifth? sixth? — glass up to his lips and turned away, mimicking you in gazing out to the starry gotham lights.

"have you been having a good night?" he asked, staring down the bottom of his glass as he replaced it down on the stone banister, fingers careful on the base. he glanced over to you, smile absently forming on his lips as he watched your own lips upturn.

nodding, you looked back up at him, eyes twinkling as they set on him. "yeah, it's been amazing. i can't believe you set all this up for me, jace."

that dreamy, slightly alcoholic tone of your words was exactly what drove jason crazy, up the wall, off his knocker — for you.

"anything for you," jason quoted himself from previously that evening, from just a few hours ago. despite his soft smile, his eyes seemed tired; probably the effect of a few drinks, but you'd had some, too. you probably looked the same.

you could only smile at his words, gazing up at him in adoration. a laugh brushed past your lips, and you extended your elbow out to lightly nudge him in the torso, turning back to gotham, but he didn't flinch.

despite having turned away, you could feel his gaze boring into the side of your head; not judgemental at all, but a soft sting in your skin.

"you look just.. unbelievable tonight," your best friend breathed, a nervousness to his voice, invisible to the untrained ear, and he looked away too. this time, when you glanced over, you could see he was the uncomfortable one, the confidence of champagne having dissipated in a moment.

jaw tensing, he glanced over at you, out the corner of his eye, before looking back ahead.

"and you don't look too shabby yourself," you replied, a chuckle to your words. oh, you'd down-played it so bad; he'd given you an uncommon compliment, and you'd replied like that? shocking.

but jason still smiled, a tension releasing from his broad shoulders, breathing a soft laugh.

still, something wasn't right.

careful, you placed your hand on the back of his, causing him to tense up once more, the veins in the back of his hand popping beneath your palm. "you sure you're okay, jace? you seem... off."

not off, lovesick. but he couldn't say that, could he?

with a dismissive shake of his head, jason shrugged. "i'm fine. long night."

despite humming and turning your attention away, to the horizon, your hand, warm against his skin, remained upon his. sighing in content, you shuffled closer, until your side hit jason's, and you craned your neck to the side, laying upon jason's shoulder.

beneath the weight of your head, his back seemed to deflate, and you were unsure if you'd overstepped. until you felt his head upon yours, and you knew jason was just as happy as you were.

whether he liked you back or not.

[k-germsworld]

Interview

Yuju x M! Reader

2.4k words

"WHAT !!! Rejected again." Yuju looked at the rejection letter in her hand and sighed. She sent her resume to many companies but was rejected without exception. "Damn it, is it that hard to find a job now?" She was fired from her last company two months ago. 

"Ring.....ring...." Her phone rings. She answers the phone and realises that it is her mom.

Mom: "Yuna ya, I heard from others that you were fired?" 

Yuju: "No, never. Mom, I'm very busy right now. I'll call you later." 

Yuju quickly hung up the phone. She didn't want her family to know that she was fired from her previous company, so she had to hang up the phone quickly. She also received many letters from banks telling her how much money she owed and that she had to repay it within certain time frames or face legal action. All these factors made her feel very stressed. She checked the time and realized it was lunchtime. Even with all the stress, she still had to fill her stomach to continue looking for the next job. So she headed to the nearby cafe. On the way, she passed by a notice board and saw a job hiring on it. That job hiring post is from a top company. It says that they are hiring a female secretary, and you only need to know a little paperwork, as long as you are willing to learn and do it. Salaries are up to 6 million won per month.  

Yuju was attracted by the job posting and quickly emailed her resume to this company. While she was having lunch, she received a reply from the company and they already arranged an interview for tomorrow.  She felt so happy that she almost cheered loudly. When she got home, she began to learn about the company so that she could be fully prepared for the interview tomorrow. 

The next day, she was well-prepared and headed to that company. When she arrived, she found that so many people were waiting for their interviews. Yuju looked like the last one to arrive, so she had to wait until everyone else was done. "Next, please." After waiting for almost an hour, it was finally her turn. After she tidied herself up, she confidently walked into the interview room. She saw three people sitting and waiting for her. The person who interviewed Yuju was not anyone else, but the boss of this company. 

"Good morning, my name is Choi Yuna. You can call me Yuju. I'm here to apply for the boss's secretary position." Yuju makes a simple greeting to them. 

"Have your seat please." The boss said. 

The three of them holding the resume emailed by Yuju. "Choi Yuna, 26 years old. The reason why you were fired from your last company was because you leaked company information, causing your company to miss out on a large investment. For this reason alone, our company should not hire you." The interviewer sitting next to the boss said.  

Yuju was shocked to hear this, they knew that the person who leaked the company information was her. She knew that this company was her last chance because other companies were afraid to hire her because of her previous company, so this top company was her last chance. "I can swear I won't make the same mistake again." 

"Why should we trust a guy who has no credibility?" The interviewer told her in a more stern tone. 

"I can do anything, as long as you give me this chance." Yuju please them.

"I'm sorry, miss.  We can't give you this job, please leave." The interviewer motioned Yuju to leave. 

"Ahem...." The boss's cough made them stop arguing. "Are you willing to do anything as long as you can do this job?" Yuju nodded her head. After seeing her answer, the boss looked at the other two interviewers and asked them to leave the room. After making sure the two interviewers had left, the boss stood up from his chair. Yuju is very curious about what kind of test the boss will give her. The boss stood in front of the table and took a look at her resume. "Yuju ssi, let me confirm with you once again that you can do anything just to get this job?" She nodded firmly and continuously. "Yeah, that's right. I'd do anything to get this job." The boss smirked. “Stand up!” She stood up according to the boss' instructions. He walked over to where Yuju was and looked her over. "Such a beautiful and sexy woman." The boss said in his mind. He lifted her face with his fingers. She shyly avoided the boss's eyes. "Yes, boss? So what can I do now?" However, the boss still didn't give her an answer yet. He walked up behind her and sniffed her hair vigorously. "Ah...ah. It smells so good." The boss spoke out what was on his mind, leaving Yuju speechless. "What is he doing?" She said in her mind. She was curious about what the boss was observing her for.  

The boss hugged Yuju from behind, scaring her. She tried to break free from him but the boss was too strong. “Hey, let me go.” His hands moved from her waist to her tits. His hands began to grope her tits. “This is what you need to do if you need this job. I am hiring a secretary just to please me and help me release my stress." Yuju finally understood why the wages were so high. “No, I wouldn't do this shit if I had to sacrifice my body." After hearing this, the boss let go of his hands. She was also confused at once. "Okay, you can leave now. Wait for our call." The boss pretended that he had not done anything to Yuju. She had no choice but to leave according to the instructions. Just as she took a step to leave, the boss suddenly said something to her. “I know you need this job, but no one in this industry will hire you if you dare to step out from this office. And everyone knows how you were fired from your last company.” This made her very angry, but she did not dare to contradict the boss because he was telling the truth. He went on to say, "And if you listen to me, I guarantee you'll get this salary easily. And you don't need to do much."  He knew that although these words were frivolous, they were a great temptation to Yuju. She gradually felt that what her boss said made sense. She really needed a job and money to pay off her debts, and she didn't need to worry about her mother.  "So as long as I listen to you, I can get a fixed salary of 6 million won every month?" She couldn't resist this temptation, so she thought about it for a while before leaving the office and said to her boss. The boss knew he had succeeded. "Yes, it's not a big workload. As long as you are willing to please me and help me relieve stress when I need it, you can easily get this salary." He went towards Yuju’s direction and removed her clothes. She didn't resist and let the boss do whatever he wanted. He touched her tits again. Yuju's tits were just the right size for the boss. He didn't like big tits so he did everything he could to keep her.

"Before you become my official secretary, I still need to test you." He glares at his pants, and seems like he wants to ask Yuju to help him to take off his pants. She understood what he meant, so she knelt on the ground and took off his pants. She didn't pull off his panty at once but she can see a bulge on his panty. Even though she hadn't seen the real thing yet, she was already surprised by the size of the bulge. "Continue!" The boss saw that she seemed dazed, so he reminded her. Yuju continued to pull his underwear down. This time she finally saw his cock. His cock was not as big as she thought it was, but thicker, so it looked bigger in his underwear. She slowly stroked on his cock. She felt very strange but had no choice but to continue in order to get the job. She used both of her hands to stroke his cock. Her hands were just big enough to completely encompass the length of his cock. So she began to stroke his cock up and down. While she was stroking, she also looked at the boss. He seemed dissatisfied with her performance and did not seem to enjoy it at all. 

Yuju knew that if she wanted to make a guy cum she had to use her mouth, but she really didn't want to put a dick in her mouth. “You‘re so sucks at pleasing me. If you want me to cum, you need more than just a hand job.” She continued to stroke her cock with her hand and ignored her boss’s mood. As she continued to stroke his cock with her hand, she began to get horny. She looked at his glans and suddenly felt like putting the cock in her mouth. Since she only wanted to use her hands, the boss was getting less and less interested in her, so he wanted to stop her. When he wanted to stop her, he found that she already slightly extended her tongue to lick his glans. She began to lick his glans with her tongue. She also began to slowly lick around his cock. "Yes, that's it. That's what you need to do to make me cum." It seemed that because of the praise, Yuju became more and more skilled at licking without realising it. She was able to take her boss's cock in her mouth and spit it out, while her hands played with his balls. She also took her balls into her mouth while her hand continued to stroke his cock. “Yes, you're a fucking genius in this.” She was very happy to hear these compliments. He saw her horny face, which made him pat his dick on her face. She lets her boss pat his saliva-covered cock on her face and she seems really turned on.

Yuju couldn't wait to take his cock in her mouth again. So she opened her mouth and waited. The boss saw this and stuffed his dick into her mouth. But this time it wasn't Yuju who took the initiative, it was the boss. The boss's thick cock kept entering her mouth, causing her mouth to be constantly enlarged by the thick cock. Although the length was not long, it could at least deep down her throat. The boss couldn't help it, he grabbed her head and started facefucking her. “OH fuck Yuju, your mouth is so hot and good on taking my dick.” She couldn't answer the boss because she could only make the gag sound. Her mouth was drooling but she enjoyed being facefucked by her boss. The boss stopped when he hit the deep of her throat. He enjoyed the moment when her throat was tightened and wrapped his dick tightly. She patted his legs when she almost ran out of breath. The boss realised and pulled his dick out. Yuju was panting so hard when he pulled out his cock. He is watching his dick is dripping with her saliva. He also saw that her chin was full of saliva, he went over and licked clean all the saliva on her face. They have a passionate kiss. She grabbed his face and didn't want to let him go, and put her tongue into his mouth. The boss also put his tongue into her mouth. He held her waist and slowly moved her to the table. He laid her on the table but never stopped kissing her. 

The boss took her bra off and ate her nipples. She was so aroused that she couldn't bear it any longer. “Just fuck me already, boss. Stop teasing me.” After hearing that, the boss couldn't wait to take off her panties and stuffed his cock into her already wet pussy. "You are so perfect, Yuju. Your pussy's shape is so perfect for my cock. I promise to make you happy every day if you become my secretary." After that, he continued to swing his hips and thrust into her. Before Yuju could even get used to her thickness, he was already pumping rapidly, and it didn't take long for her to squirt. He felt that she was about to squirt, so he pulled out his dick, and at that moment, Yuju squirted a lot. After squirting, she lay on the table and twitched. Her juices spurted all over the table and the floor. But the boss did not blame her. Instead, he looked at her glistening pussy that had just squirted and prepared for the second insertion. 

Before she could rest, the boss had already inserted his dick into her. This time the insertion was easier than before because she had just squirted and her pussy was wet and warm. "Oh, boss. You fuck me so deep. I can't......" She couldn't even finish her words because of the boss's skillful thrusting. "Ah... you suck me so tight, it feels so good." The boss hasn't had sex with a girl who feels so good for a long time, and he feels like he's about to cum. He grabbed Yuju's waist and increased the speed of his thrusts. "Yes.... boss. Fuck me like this. Ruined me with your dick please." “Fuck… Yuju… I am about to cum.” Along with the boss's moan, he also shot his semen into her body. He took out his cock and watched his semen flow out of her pussy. “It’s so hot inside me.” Yuju felt his warm cum in her pussy. The boss didn't want to cum inside Yuju, but she made him feel so good that he accidentally cummed inside her. 

She picked up some of the semen with her fingers, took a look at it, and then lay on the table, gasping for breath. "Is my performance okay?" He smiled and said: "You're hired, Yuju ssi." "Thank you, boss." He approached Yuju again and aimed his dick at her pussy. “This is your orientation party.” He smirked and inserted his dick in her pussy again. Yuju didn't stop him and they both had sex until both of them were tired.

[xoxochb]

Ok, could I PLEASE get a Leo x fem!reader fan fic where they're best friends but both want to be more (maybe they kiss...idk) ??? Pls, I'm desperate. There's not enough Leo fanfics and you're such a good writer.

— astronomy nerd

warnings: leo has W rizz 💯 (do people still say this?) pairing: leo valdez x fem! reader

“well anyways, there is no sound in space because there’s no atmosphere to carry the sound vibrations. It’s really cool if you think about it. are you thinking about it? whatever, did you know the sunsets on mars are blue? how cool is that?! and one million earths could fit in the sun, isn’t that awesome! just imagine that, the sun is huge, I mean seriously-”

your voice trails off forever, you had been talking non stop about miscellaneous outer space facts since leo had walked into your cabin and caught you reading a planet book. it’s not that he hated listening to you talk, gods no, he would listen to you talk for hours on end without a stop but in this particular moment he found himself distracted by the bright smile adorning your lips, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. and with you being too busy caught up in your space talk you fail to realize leo hadn’t been listening

but you did, however, finally take notice when you ask him a question and he doesn’t respond, stuck in some kind of daze. you call out his name three times before snapping your fingers in front of his eyes, making them widen and his cheeks flush red

“you weren’t listening” you point out

“I’m sorry I- uhm, I’ll listen now. sorry”

you sigh. “what do you think about creating life on mars?”

creating…life? it doesn’t even take a second for leo’s brain to go from concentrating on your words to imagining creating life within you, forget fucking mars, when you’re older and leave camp preferably married with kids. with your good looks and his humor that’d be one hell of a child! he can’t suppress the widening grin, which you additionally notice

“you’re not listening again! what are you thinking about?”

“I think you should!”

your brows furrow at the late reply to your question. “okay… well I surely can’t. but the scientists at nasa know that mars has water so really if you think about it we need to bring seeds from earth to mars and we can build trees, y’know? then that will create oxygen— mars has a very thin atmosphere meaning you can’t breathe on it, but if you just put this huge tent around it the oxygen would start flowing and you’d be able to breathe. does that make sense?”

“what would the tent do if there’s no atmosphere on mars though?”

“I watched a movie about it once… but… you make a good point” you frown, realizing your information had gotten mixed. leo mirrors your expression when he realizes he had upset you. the aura of the room suddenly becomes very awkward

don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid-

leo’s mouth fails him. “what does a star win in a competition?”

your lips twitching upwards was worth the idiotic joke he’s about to respond to

“a constellation prize”

“I have another! what type of music do planets sing?”

“what type?”

“nep-tunes!”

your laugh progresses. “where did you find these jokes?”

(the second he found out you liked astronomy and outer space he had researched like crazy so he could come up with the best jokes possible to impress you). he shrugs. “I made them myself”

“really?”

oh gods he hopes the blush on his face isn’t visible. “yeah…”

“you should be, like, a stand up comedian or something. you’re really good”

okay, yeah, he’s gonna put a ring on it the first chance he can get (your wedding has been elaborately planned already, he keeps the plans hidden underneath his mattress). with your smile as bright as the stars, eyes reflections of the moon, your hair cascading over your shoulders like the sunset over the evening sky, extremely captivating to the eyes of the silly son of hepheastus. he hoped he didn’t look like a lovesick puppy right now, staring at you like this, yet he’s surprised to find your gaze mirrors his. oh no

no no no. leo prays to ever god and goddess he’s aware of that you can’t visible see his cherry red cheeks or his smile of contentment

“do you think there’s more than one universe?” he blurts out

“of course. why?”

“because I think I’d love you all the same in every one regardless of our forms”

good gods of olympus your heart skips a beat or two. act casual

“even if I was a worm?”

“I’d build you a terrarium”

“If I was a star?”

“I’d place myself next to you”

you shouldn’t be tearing up at the thought of this but you can’t help the drops of salty water that fall from your eyes. “In every universe would you be staring at my lips instead of listening to what I’m saying?”

“if your lips always look this kissable, then yes”

oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods so this is really happening? this is real life? surely, truly?

“leo, can I-”

“please”

you suck in a breath and whisper, “I’ve never done this before”

“I haven’t either”

very slowly, almost like neither of you had moved at all, you lean in until your lips finally meet in the middle at last. not just the first kiss, because this surely was not going to be the last

[lis-likes-fics]

Antidote

Pairing(s): Coriolanus Snow x Reader, Original Character x Reader Word Count: 15.6k words Warnings: NSFW, smut at the beginning, swearing, mentions of death and murder, Coriolanus Snow is not a good person... A/N: This is part two to Poison. I didn't think it would take so long to write this, and this is only half of what I intended for this part. Now that I have a third part to do, I don't know when it'll be out by but it'll definitely be...a lot to process, me thinks. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this very not happy chapter! Thank you and enjoy!

PART ONE: The Discovery

You're startled awake by a knock at the door. You sit up with a groan, rubbing your eyes as you move quickly to wake up.

You mumble something, a groggy “mm” that tells the person at the door to come in. It's not Coryo. He would have just walked in.

“Charlotta?”

She bows her head briefly as she enters the room. You glance out of the window, confusion and the faintest feeling of panic edging your nerves at how bright it is.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma'am,” she says, and you notice the slightest confusion in her face as she speaks, “but Master Snow has requested your presence.”

You throw your legs over the side of the bed, stretching your arms out wide. “What time is it?”

“Half past nine, ma'am.”

A wash of ice shocks your skin to the bone. You bolt up in an instant, moving so quickly that you make yourself dizzy as you start sifting through your wardrobe for clothes.

Your panic is evident, and she completely understands as she watches you scramble. Like clockwork, you are up every morning at six—hardly an hour after all the servants have woken—to prepare for Snow. Because, like clockwork, he wakes at seven to begin his day with breakfast and you. You're never late. Never.

“How did I sleep this late?” you wonder aloud, snatching a pair of clothes from the closet and rushing to the bathroom.

“Not sure,” Charlotta shrugs as she steps further into the room, beginning to change the sheets from your bed as you get ready. “I came to wake you at your normal time, but you must've fallen asleep again.”

“Shit,” you curse as you shove your toothbrush in your mouth. Your words are garbled in your mouth as you speak through it. “Thank you, Charlotta. Please tell him I'm on my way.”

She nods, gathering the sheets in her arms. “Of course, ma’am.”

As you glance off at the clock on the wall, you grimace as you turn slowly back to her. She probably has a million other things to do but… “Actually,” you sigh, “I'm sorry to ask, but could you help me dress? It will go quicker.”

You're truly grateful for Charlotta. She's one of the only people you know from this godforsaken Capitol who's never given you a hard time.

“Of course,” she says with no quarrel. You thank her quickly as she makes her way over, discarding the sheets on the floor to deal with after.

Together, you're ready in five minutes. You rush to the kitchen and living quarters, retrieving his tray of tea and cakes and this morning's newspaper. You're in the middle of shoving your planner under your arm as you scarf down a cookie to stave off some of your hunger.

When you arrive at his study, you take a steadying breath and check the time. Barely over ten minutes. Not bad.

You let yourself in, not bothering with the door. There's nothing you're not privy to already. If you can't have your privacy from Coryo, he can't have it from you (unless it's an order, but that hardly ever happens).

He doesn't look up from the papers on his desk. As he writes something down, he mutters under his breath. “You're late,” he says.

“I'm sorry, Coryo,” you quickly reply. As you set his new tea tray on his desk, you pick up the old one to set it next to the door to be taken. “I overslept.”

He looks up at you, raising a brow. “You never oversleep.”

You move to stand in front of his desk, holding your planner in your arm. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Coryo looks you up and down, hums, and returns to his writing. “I need you to run these to my office and schedule my appointments for next week. The calendar should be there with the–”

“The stack of requests in the bottom drawer. Yes, sir.” You nod dutifully, scrawling your own notes in your planner.

Unphased by your readiness, he continues. “Yes,” he points a pen at you, “also, there's this creature bugging me. Go handle that, please?”

“Radley Flynn?”

“That's the one.”

You nod. “He's done.”

He hums. “And…” an exasperated sigh leaves him, “Tigris finished the outfits for the big conference next week. If she offers tea, you may have tea, but no fraternizing.” He turns back to his papers. He mutters the last part under his breath. “She's been a bit of a pain lately.”

“Yes, Coryo.”

Coriolanus is quite proud of himself. At the beginning of your employment, you were a bit of a rowdy creature he had to learn to control. The lessons you had to be taught took a while for you to learn, but now that you have, life is so effortless at times. You know your job, your place. You respond as needed, you do as you're told. You're a perfect assistant, a perfect pet. He often finds himself priding his decision to keep you those years ago.

“Before you leave…” He stands, making his way over to you as you watch him move. You're unflinching as he does, standing before you as he presses his thumb over your chin. “You left me unattended this morning.”

“I know,” you nearly whisper, staring up at him in this almost pathetic nature. “I'm sorry.”

Coryo’s hold on you is a persistent kind of tie.

When you imagine a person holding a leash on someone else, it's so easy to imagine a silver chain wrapped around one's neck. It's this tangible thing you can see in your mind’s eyes. Even you can imagine it—Coriolanus Snow with a chain encircling his wrist, yanking tightly to have you falling at his feet.

But that's not what this is.

Your chain, even in the mind, is invisible. It's worse than invisible, it's entirely imaginary. You make up this illusion of a leash to make yourself feel better about bowing to his feet and showering him in your obedience.

You're at the point where your obedience has given you a freedom that makes it easy to escape. At any point, you could escape. As long as you never stop moving, Coriolanus Snow would be a thing ever behind you.

But you've found, silently and unconsciously, that you have become comfortable here.

You have no say in politics, so you're free of the burden of speaking against the injustices of the Capitol (as deeply as you wish to speak against them). You have no possession that is truly yours, so you have no material ties to keep you restrained. You have only one true sentimental tie, as only one true person has a sentimental tie to you, but they have enough power to keep you from having the responsibility to protect them.

In terms of liberation from duty and morality, you are free. And only Coryo can give you that kind of freedom. It is a bitter draught, but you drink it anyway because it is easier than crafting your own wine.

The slightest smirk amuses his lips as he shakes his head. “Don't be sorry,” he brushes your chin, pulling it down just enough to see your bottom teeth. “Just make it up.”

His other hand raises and he brushes his fingers over the swell of your breasts. He pinches your nipples between two knuckles and the smallest gasp interrupts your breaths at the tenderness he finds.

He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. “What's wrong with you?”

You shake your head, raising a hand to grasp him gently. “Nothing,” you say quickly. Offering a smile, you clear your throat. “How do you want me?”

There's a long pause where he thinks to himself, considering your response before deciding to let it go. It's no matter. “Desk.”

“Yes, Coryo.” You do as you're told and sit on the edge of the desk, legs spread and ready to receive him. He likes you like this. Subservient.

He hums as he unbuckles his belt, making his way to you as he situates himself between your thighs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in close as you hook a leg around his waist. He keeps staring at you, examining the features on your face as he contemplates.

You bring him in, embracing his lips. Your fingers card through the hair at the back of his neck, a gentle tug encouraging him. His tongue licks your bottom lip and his hands roughly grip your thighs as he steps impossibly closer.

One of his hands dips between your legs, sliding under your tight dress and pushing it up to your waist. You moan into the kiss when his fingers graze your clothed heat, spreading wider to allow him the access he demands.

He pulls your panties down your legs and pushes his finger past the seam of your pussy, smiling at the warmth he finds as his lips continue to slide and bite against your own.

It doesn't matter how many times he does this to you, how many times you feel his lips or his fingers or his cock, you never tire of his touch. Your body bends to his every will, and though it scares you sometimes, you're in far too deep to care.

When he’s coaxed you enough and you're nice and ready for him, you sigh when he pushes himself inside of you. You wrap your arms tightly around him, pulling him in close as his mouth finds refuge at your neck.

When he thrusts roughly inside of you, burying his cock deep within your wanting cunt, your eyes flutter as he pulls a heavy moan from your lips.

~

The door opens as you offer a gentle smile to the tall woman you're happy to call your friend. She beams back at you, all white teethed and shiny eyed as she wraps her long arms around you. “Wonderful to see you, dear.”

“Hello, Tigris,” you say softly. As the hug loosens, and she ushers you inside.

“Would you like some tea?” she asks as she pulls you into the living room. You sit gratefully, kicking off your shoes as you soak in the warmth of the home.

“Please,” you reply. Your feet are killing you, you've got a headache, and sitting down on the plush sofa feels like heaven.

She disappears into the kitchen and returns a moment later. “Let me guess,” she smiles as she sets the tray down. “He told you to have tea but no more.”

You take the cup she offers you. “He did,” you take a sip with a happy sigh. “But I would like some tea and some cakes, please.”

She smiles, chuckling lightly as she hands you said cake. “Coming right up.” You take it from her tattooed hands. She's had them a couple months. They're like tiger stripes.

She sips from her own cup, crossing her legs as she sits back. “I won't keep you too long. I know how antsy he gets.”

You hum. “Thanks, Ty.”

There's a tiny clatter in the kitchen but you both dismiss it. It's simply their grandma’am “assisting” the maids with cooking. She hates cooking, none of you know why she bothers.

“How have you been?” Tigris asks gently, looking you over. You look a little tired.

“Besides both my headaches?” She chuckles. “As well as I can.”

Humming, she licks her bottom lip. “I'm glad I chose this tea then. It should soothe you.”

You sigh thankfully, tilting your head and offering your quiet appreciation. “You're an angel.”

Tigris chuckles as she shakes her head. “I don't know about all that?”

The smell that hits your nose just then is strong. Your stomach does flips as the scent has you scrunching your face. “What is she making?”

She chuckles. “Dinner?”

“And what's for dinner?”

“Something with far too much garlic, it smells like.” Tigris laughs lightly and, despite your unease, you join her.

You bring your cup back up to your lips, hoping the gentle scent of the tea will ease your stomach. But it does little to help. You feel nearly lightly, and you close your eyes as the strong garlicky smell has your headache throwing fits.

“Excuse me,” you pardon as you stand, moving quickly toward the bathroom just down the hall. Tigris rushes after you, her brows creased with worry as she goes to your aid.

You make it just in time, bending over the toilet as you heave the tea and cakes you just consumed. It's gross and you hate it, and Tigris does her best to help as she can.

“Are you alright?” she realizes it's a redundant question but she doesn't know what else to ask.

You sit back, standing to your feet with a frustrated sigh to wash your mouth clean. “Yes,” you nod as you finish. “I was just feeling a little ill. I'm okay.”

She shakes her head. She thinks in all the time that you've known one another, you've only been ill once and it was a couple years ago at least, and it wasn't like this. “You need to see a doctor.”

You shake your head. “No, I'm fine.”

“Honey, you do.” She sighs, “You know Coryo hates sickness.”

“I'm not ill.”

“Nevertheless.” She raises a hand to your cheek, worry shining in her eyes as she looks over you. “Promise me you'll see someone.”

You look away from her, sighing as you concede. Your voice is gentle. “I promise.”

She strokes her thumb over your cheek before letting you go. She turns to leave. “I'll get you some medicine, and your clothes.”

You hum, turning to do another rinse as you mutter a “thanks” under your breath.

~

You hate doctors.

After the Games, the passive aggressive treatments, the dismissiveness because you were going to die anyway… you feel like your feelings are validated.

And worse, the last time you had to deal with doctors was when you were ill a few years ago. When he was trying to determine how you could have gotten sick, the first questions he'd asked you were about your sex life and your menstruation. Then he just patted you on the head and told you it was stress. You're plenty stressed but that's certainly not what made you sick.

It's safe to say that you're not confident in their ability to treat you.

But when your migraines persist and you think the smell of garlic is going to kill you, you give in and make a secret appointment with a physician between errands. Besides, Coriolanus is beginning to get suspicious. You've been sore, and it hasn't been from him.

Your name snaps you from your thoughts, and you look up to see who's called you. Your apprehension is clear in your face when you lay eyes on the doctor. He's tall, dark haired, older. You sigh gently as you stand, walking past him and down the hall to his office.

When you're in the shelter and general secrecy of the office, he speaks. “I'm Dr. Lockert. How are you?”

You keep it short and simple as you sit. “Fine.”

He hums, taking a seat in his chair across from you. “And why have you come in today?”

You hesitate before you answer. For a brief moment, you consider standing up and leaving. You just need to try and get more rest, you're sure of it…

But the pain simmering behind your eye is the deciding factor.

“I've been a little sick the past couple of weeks.” You clear your throat. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

He reaches to his desk, retrieving a clipboard as he plucks a pen from his coat pocket. “Describe the sickness?”

You sigh. “I've been really tired. Lots of migraines, nausea…a little bloated?”

He raises a brow, though he doesn't look at you. “Have you been using the toilet a lot?”

“Yes?”

He looks at you then. “When was the last time you had your blood?”

You refrain from reacting, you're good at that. The urge to grind your teeth and roll your eyes, the urge to stand and walk out is strong. As calmly as you can, you lick your lips and explain.

“I'm on contraceptives,” you say, your eyes unyielding as you watch him. “I haven't had mine in years.”

You think, for a moment, that spending so much time with Coriolanus has affected more than your confidence. You're a bit colder now, there's a harsher bite in your eyes that you had tried so hard not to recover from him. You think if Lockert can see it, the reflection of the president in your eyes, and that's why he clears his throat as he tears his eyes from your glare.

“Forgive my bluntness,” he mutters, “have your breasts…become sensitive? Perhaps sore or heavy?”

You're about to leave.

Your words are quick and dismissive. You're giving him ten seconds. “Yes, do you know what it is?”

Lockert removes his glasses, rubbing his forehead and sniffing gently. He looks up at you, and he has two seconds left to answer.

“You may be experiencing the early stages of…” he hesitates, “...of a pregnancy.”

You sigh. “No.”

“No?” He had expected that answer.

You sling your work bag over your shoulder and stand. “No.” He stands as well. There's no astonishment or confusion in your voice. You're thinking straight and clearly, and you're more fed up than anything else. “I can't be pregnant. I've never missed a dose once. My line of work…” you slow, ensuring he understands every word, “does not grant leniency for pregnancy.”

He shrugs. “Even so, contraceptives are not always 100% effective.” That's when your ears start to burn with anxiety, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. “All of your symptoms coincide with that of early stage pregnancy.”

You don't know if you should believe him. There are likely a multitude of things that mimic pregnancy symptoms. You're not, and you can't be. You don't know what to say.

“Tell you what,” he says. “If you can give me a urine sample, I can have it tested for you. I should be able to have those results by the end of the day. I'll make it a priority because I know you're busy.”

You nod firmly. “Yes, do that.”

He turns to grab the tools for the sample, making quick work of doing such. You might have been too stern, but you don't have time or patience right now. You're running late enough as it is.

As he turns and hands you the cup, you take it. “Dr. Lockert.”

“Yes?”

“If you tell anyone anything about what happens here…” you lean in close, “I'll ensure your sudden disappearance goes entirely unnoticed.”

He stares wide eyed at you, nodding slowly. You take a step back and nod back at him. “Thank you.”

~

The doctor's words have been weighing on your mind all day. It's been hard to focus with the thought of his diagnosis plaguing you. Around Coryo, you try your best not to show your hesitation but he knows you. He can see it in your eyes, the dread.

When you get that knock at your door later that night, after all your duties, around the house and to your boss, that curling anxiety strikes you again.

You stand and walk toward the door carefully. Charlotta stands on the other side holding a tray at her side.

“Hey,” she says, her voice gentle and hardly above a whisper. “I'm going to point to something in your room. There's an envelope under the tray. It's yours.”

You nod, playing along as you look in the direction she points. You slip the white envelope from its spot in one fluid movement, careful to avoid the cameras in the hall.

When she puts the tray back down, you give her a gentle smile and nod again. You play along.

“A man came to drop this off. He said to be subtle and give it straight to you.”

“Thank you, Charlotta.” You sigh. “You've been really good to me, and it means a lot.”

She smiles, ducking her head a little. “Good night, ma'am.”

You nod. “Good night.”

She leaves you, and you close the door quietly behind her. Turning toward the bed, your heart hammers against your chest as you stare at the letter.

“It's nothing.”

You tear the envelope open in just a few moments. You don't have time to be nervous. When you pull the paper out, you take a breath, and open it.

It's a white hot kind of feeling. It's chilling and stinging all at the same time. You don't know if you need to open a window for the crisp air that lies outside or start your fireplace.

So instead you cry.

You're riddled with gasps as you place a hand over your mouth to silence them. They rack through your chest until you're breaking down onto your bed and fully sobbing. Burying your head in your knees, you let the tears fall with as little control as you can grant them.

It lasts a long time. You don't know if the crying is a result of rejection, a strange sort of acceptance, or plain fear. A little bit of both invades every sense of your being.

You absent-mindedly press a hand to your belly, like you could almost feel the hardly-there being that you hadn't known was growing within you. It aches as it brings forth another round of sobs.

You never really considered the possibility of children, before or after the Games. This world is not suited for children, and after your experience, you never wanted anything so dear to you to ever have to suffer the possibility of facing what you did.

If that wasn't enough, your child was that of Coriolanus Snow's blood. The man was a lot of things, but a father was not among the list. You could not fathom allowing a child to grow under his reign. He was not suited, and you could never allow it to happen. Not without a fight, surely.

Of course, you could get rid of it. You could keep it secret, sneak it right under his nose. Things could go back to normal, like it never happened.

But if he ever found out, he'd probably kill you. A Snow heir? Laid to waste? You cannot hope to take that from him and come off best.

You hadn't many options.

You let a monster raise your baby, or you risk your life by being freed from the burden. Your life had little value to begin with, but you could not imagine the type of creature this child would become.

You don't know what you'll do.

~

PART TWO: The Escape

As the door is pulled open, she is shocked to see you on the other side as she holds tight to her robes.

“Hello, Tigris,” you speak softly, pulling your large hood close to you.

She stumbles on her words as she stares in surprise. “Uh– Hi. Why are you here so late?”

You'd woken her. You can see it in the exhaustion hiding beneath the concern. It makes sense for her to be resting, it's nearly three in the morning. But you had to be sure you were being watched, you had to be sure no one would follow.

“I'm pregnant.” Her breath hitches, and you swallow thickly. “With Coriolanus’ child.”

She struggles to answer at first, blinking quickly as she shakes her head. “What?” After a moment, she seems to remember you're still at the door. She beckons you in. “Come in, come in.”

She stands to the side and sets a hand on your back when you're safely within her home. She closes the door as she brings you into the living room, starting a fire. She asks if you want tea. You decline.

You shed your coat, sitting with your legs pulled close to your person as you stare at the flickering flames she stokes to life When Tigris takes her seat across from you, you silently hand her the letter you'd received from Dr. Lockert. She reads it quickly.

It's a long time before either of you speak, still in shock from all that's happening.

“How do you feel?” She thinks it's a dumb question.

You shrug, wondering that yourself. “Scared. A little excited? Although, I think that may be the nausea. But mostly…” your breath shudders on a sigh, “fucking terrified.”

She sets the paper down on the coffee table and sets a kind hand on your knee. “What are you going to do?”

You don't look at her. It's so hard to look at her when the thoughts in your head are so muddled. There are words piled on words piles on words. So many “this” and “that”s and “wait, but this”. You stare at the fire.

“I don't want my baby…” you sigh, speaking gently, “...growing up with someone like their…their father.” The word honestly stings when you say it, but you say it anyway.

“Back at Seven, the kids who grew up there were hungry and tired… but they smiled and laughed and played, too. They were happy because they had people who loved them, even if they were poor. Here…” you wipe a hand down your face, shaking your head. “Coriolanus isn't capable of real love. I want my child to be happy. I don't want them growing up with all this money and power, but with no heart to know how to use it.”

Tigris sighs silently, looking down at her lap. She lets your words sink in, nodding gently as she whispers. “So you'll run away?”

You finally turn your gaze to see her, speaking slowly. “I have to.”

You don't want to. It's so hard already. And you don't want to leave her behind. She's the only person who's truly cared since the beginning, the only person you've ever been able to confide in.

“You could get caught and worse.”

“I know…”

Tigris unfolds the letter once more, reading the cursive on the page carefully as she thinks to herself. She stands and walks toward the fire, and you watch as she tosses the paper inside. The flames lick at it, catching fire under the strength of its heat as it curls and crumbles.

“Well, you'll need some help.”

You stare up at her, your eyes glistening as she offers her hand. You take it, giving the weakest smile as you pull her into a tight hug.

~

The weeks you spend planning go by far quicker than you thought they would. It's in secret visits with Tigris between errands, subtle meetings with District rogues hiding in the Capitol during parties or public gatherings that were easy to hide in. It was arranging transportation, cover ups, people who can be trusted and people who can't. And to do it all without gathering the suspicions of Coriolanus was a painstaking process.

If he ever found out what you were planning… there would be irreparable damage. For you, for your baby, for anyone involved. The idea is chilling, but not as chilling as staying behind and allowing Coriolanus to raise a tyrant in his stead, if he even accepted the child to begin with…

So when the day comes that you are to flee the Capitol… to leave behind all you've known for the life of a fugitive in the Districts, you swallow your fear and take it.

You take a deep breath as you stand before Coryo’s door. You clutch the tray in your hands and files shoved under your arm, feeling the anxiety pooling in your belly.

If everything goes right, this will be the last time you ever step foot in this office…

“Good morning, sir.”

He doesn't look up from his desk. He's already working—always working. “My flower,” serves as his only greeting as he scribbles away at his work.

You set his tray down, picking up the newspaper and setting it where he likes it: laid out flat at the left of his desk. “I have your breakfast and a few documents that need signing before I go.” You put those in front of his work. “Is there anything you need from me?”

He hums, taking the pages and setting them atop the ones he had been focused on. “Aside from our morning appointments?” He looks up at you with a small grin. “No.”

“Perfect.” Anxiety rolls in your belly. This should be the last time you ever do this…

You know how to feel. The issue is not knowing how you actually feel.

“Where do you want me, Coryo?”

Anyway you want me, baby, that's the way you got me.

You steel your jaw and straighten your spine. As you plaster a smile on your face, you let out a silent breath.

This should be the last time you ever do this… And you feel determined to make that happen.

Coryo’s grin is toxic. You can see that. It spews poison, and you're sick of drowning and letting him sicken you with it.

“Come here,” he bids, turning out of his desk the same way he'd done it that first time: his legs spread, his lips curled, his eyes dark.

You walk toward him, your movements slow and sure as you come to stand between his legs with your hands on his shoulders. His own land on your waist, and it's such a warm feeling. But you can't let him distract you. Or you'll become intoxicated once more.

And it's a slippery slope from there.

He stays silent as he watches you, his hands stroking your sides, pulling you in close. He wraps an arm around you, guiding you to straddle his lap.

Even with his toxicity, you can't deny his beauty. Though that's usually how it goes, isn't it? The prettier the snake, the deadlier the venom.

“You are…absolutely radiant this morning, my darling.”

You almost fall for it. It's hard not to, he knows what honey to pour in your ears.

You're almost sure it's subconscious, the way you lift your hand and brush his pale hair from his face. God, his eyes are so pretty. Baby blue, twinkling with such pretty stars—stars you know are all a farce for the purpose of deceit. He's spent a lot of time crafting them, but you know what they really are.

Snowflakes.

Beauties made of pure perfection…but entirely cold and unfeeling. If you get enough of them, trillions and trillions and trillions on trillions, trillions more than that still…you freeze in the bite of the frost.

And if you stay, you'll turn to ice.

“Thank you, Coryo.” You drop your hand to his chin, tilting his head back just a slight before you lean in to kiss him.

The lust is immediate. There's never been any reason for easing into them. As usual, it's fast, it's biting, it's a game.

Who will break first?

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, grinding your hips into his lap. A light grunt falls from him, but he remains unbeaten. He grabs your hips and moves them himself. He knows your body well, even better than you, and it doesn't surprise you anymore.

His growing erection rubs against your clit, and your breath hitches, though you don't pull away. His hands snake underneath your skirt, pushing it higher and higher up the length of your thighs until he's got you exposed. When he's clawing at your panties, you have to remove them yourself before he does it for you.

By the time his hand is cupping your cunt, you're already wet for him. It's like clockwork. His lips and his fingers and his skin against yours make you so weak, all you can do is comply.

You long for the day where it's not so easy as pressing a button. You long for the day where he can ring a bell, and your mouth won't begin to water…

He slips his fingers past the seam of your lips, and your breath shudders. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in as you nuzzle your face there.

“So wet for me, aren't you?” he purrs. His lips curl, “Such a perfect thing, you are.”

You melt against his praise, so used to the coin toss between his honey sweet words and his hollowing insults.

“All for you,” you whisper into his ear, taking his lobe between your teeth with a gentle tug. You know he likes it. Just as he knows your body, you know his. If he's going to have you melting in his arms, you'll have him melting in yours.

You aren't on the same level, but you can pretend to be.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of you, torturously slow in his movements. Biting down hard on your lips, you fumble with his belt as you make quick work of undoing it all. He's half-hard when you take him in your palm and stroke the length of him, matching his tempo as his breath shudders with yours.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles, clenching his teeth at the way you flick your wrist. His fingers pick up within you, massaging such a deep part within you as you grind against his hand, begging for more. You return the favor, jerking your fist roughly along him, wanting—needing more and more.

When the lust becomes too much, and you can feel the other's release growing nearer and nearer without the escalation of true sex, he pulls his hands from you and you huff needily. “Fuck,” you stutter out, pausing your own hand as his precum sticks to your thumb.

Coryo bids you to look at him as he dips his finger between his lips, sucking your arousal from them with a cocky spark in his eyes as he hums. You do nothing but kiss him back when he pushes his lips against yours, your movements as rough and as fast as his own. The taste of yourself on his tongue is intoxicating. It has you both moaning into each other's mouths, needing so badly to devour the other.

Coryo grabs your wrist, stopping your hand as you gasp at him. His eyes stay locked on you as he uses your hand to guide the head of his cock to your wet lips. Your eyes flutter when you sink down on him, letting out a long breath as your legs tremble.

Through his puffs, he smiles. “Look at you, so beautiful,” he murmurs.

You lock your arms around his neck, holding him close to you. It’s always good with him, this drunken, numbing feeling he gives you whenever he touches you. You crave it so much that you’ve convinced yourself in your entirety that you need it, him, everything he has to offer. It doesn’t matter how cruel he can be, his poison is a chemical in your brain that tells you it’s always worth it for this.

You roll your hips in his lap as his lips graze the skin of your neck. Your quick, fevered movements, so full of a craven kind of lust, make it difficult to set a steady pace. You ride him, and you do it with everything you have. This will be the last time you touch him—the last time he touches you. He’s terrible, he’s a horrible beast of a man that you wish nothing more than to escape, but you will always crave him—his horror, his bloodlust—somewhere deep within you.

His claws dig into your skin, rolling your hips. You’ve rubbed off on him, fueling that lingering primal urge that wants to push you to the ground and take you like an animal. That’s all you are. That’s all you’ll ever be.

“Fuck, you’re so lovely, my flower,” he purrs in your ear, encouraging a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you, Coryo.” You’re breathless, barely holding on by a thread—especially when the pad of his thumb finds your sensitive clit. You’ve been so sensitive lately. He likes it.

His hips cant into you, just as close to tipping over as you are as you grip one another, you searching for his relief and him searching for his own. He circles his thumb faster, he loves to cum with you because you get so tight.

You whimper, feeling tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you try to will them away. “Coryo,” you sigh. “I’m close…”

“Come on, little thing. You can cum for me,” he bids, and you almost snap at that moment.

Rolling your hips in his lap, you hold on tightly to him as a thread in your belly tightens and tightens. He's more insistent, reaching for his own end in the sparks of his nearing release.

He flicks his thumb, and you break apart. Burying your face in his neck, a whimper—which more resembles a sob—shudders from your chest as you dissolve into him. “F-Fuck, Coryo,” you mewl, grinding a little harder into his lap.

You clench down around him, and a rough groan tears from his throat as his other hand sinks into your sides. His heavy breath is fast and deep in your ear, rare praises fall from his lips. It's all heat and rush and flooding pleasure as you're both sent on a high to last the day. For you, a high that will come crashing down for, quote possibly, the rest of your life.

But until then, Coryo feels good, so you feel good.

He spills inside of you, and you soak it all in. You soak it all in because, after all of this is over and you're sent back into this cold and hungry world, this is a part of him that will be all you'll have left.

Your arms tighten around him even more, willing the sparks of your pleasure to shoot just a little longer. You will away the tears threatening to spill. He surely does not deserve them. You do not deserve them.

With a steadying sigh, you pull away from him. Coryo looks at you with lust blown eyes, his breath leveling once again as he stares at you. He doesn't say anything for a while, he just stares.

He raises a hand to a strand of your hair between two fingers. He sighs shortly. “You're beautiful.”

You hold your breath. You don't mean to, but his praises have an effect on you that you hope you'll shed in the time to come. They play over and over and over again in your brain. My flower, my darling, so good and radiant and beautiful. So beautiful.

You swallow thickly. “Thank you,”you whisper, brushing hair from his face to take a long look into his twinkling eyes.

Snowflakes.

It is not time to freeze.

You kiss him, a deep and dark kiss that you hope will sustain you so you no longer need another. It's almost as if he knows, as if he is aware of your plane to flee. With the way he kisses you, so possessive with the intention to conquer, he must know.

But you pull away, catching your breath once more as you hoist yourself from his lap. You clean up in silence. And the silence is sobering.

As you retrieve the stack of documents needing intending to, you make your way to the door. And you linger. You don’t mean to do it, but you do. You stand there and think, over this and that, over everything that’s ever happened or will happen or won’t ever happen.

You don’t want to leave.

Coriolanus’ pull is so strong. It sucks you in, it urges you to stay within the comfort of his cold eyes. You turn, taking in the sight of him. He sits back in his chair, his attention already turned to his work. He is a sight to see, basking in the glory of a deceiving pale light. And then there are the roses. Those damned roses, frosted in flakes of snow.

He glances up at you, raising a curious brow. “Forgetting something?” His voice washes over you like honey. You have to remember it’s a front. His voice is not sweet honey, it’s bitter sap.

You shake your head. “No.”

You stare some more. How could you leave this man? When he is so beautiful…

Your lips part, an unspoken question on the tip of your tongue that you nearly blurt in your haste to find any reason to go…or stay.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

He watches you for a long time, saying nothing. His pale eyes take you in, but they’re so cold. They’ve always been cold. He’s contemplating something. But it isn’t the silence that convinces you.

“Of course,” he admits. And you believe him, in a way. You believe him, and you look into his eyes and see…snowflakes. Billions and billions and billions of snowflakes. They’re so beautiful, just like him—you can already see your breath in the air.

You smile, your hand tightening on the threshold. As you nod his way, accepting him for what he is, you let go of it. “Thank you,” you say. You take a step back, crossing a barrier where the world outside of his office eases the gooseflesh that had risen in the chill of his winter. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Mhm.”

And you stand there, lingering. Already passed the threshold with nothing more to do than turn away. All you have to do is leave.

You never thought you’d find it so difficult to leave.

~

It's not as hard to remain inconspicuous as one might think in the Capitol.

Your dark glasses hide your face, your expensive robes cover your clothes, you're wearing a dark hood over your head that keeps identity more or less sealed.

But the fashion of the Capitol is so obnoxious that you're not the only one on the street dressed like this. You stride down the pavement, passing building after building on your way to the train station. It's heavily monitored by Peacekeeper grunts. Your heart is pounding in your chest at the idea of being caught.

Inside the station, it's freezing cold. You wrap your robes a little tighter around you in the hopes of preserving some heat in the shivering air.

You glance toward the hall past the receptionist desk, taking in a breath as you square your shoulders and begin to walk over.

“Ma'am?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you will it to slow so you can think straight. Without sharing your anxiety, you turn to her with a hum. “Yes?” you ask with a tired sigh.

“You can't go back there without confirmation.” You swear you almost pass out when you see her lift her hand, gesturing to a Peacekeeper grunt to step forward. You hear the heavy thump of his footsteps, and it matches the heavy thump of your panic in your throat.

Steeling your nerves and straightening your spine, you answer, “I have confirmation.”

“Let me see.”

Part of you realizes now that you have, in fact, been too much around Coriolanus. You have to remind yourself that most of this is an act as you sneer at her and her tone, walking straight toward her desk. 

You open the bag slung over your shoulder, tearing out documentation signed with the name Coriolanus Snow in elegant scripture. You watch her eyes widen, the name striking something in her heart as she clears her throat and nods. With a huff, you collect the paper and turn away to continue your venture.

You’d been holding onto that for a while as one of the things you had Coryo sign within his stack of important documents. You’re just glad you’d had the foresight as you strut down the hall, past the receptionist desk, past the offices, past the closets, all the way down to the exit door at the end. There's a large shed in the back, filled with crates and storage units and all the stuff they don't want to put in the station.

As you push open the door, looking around nervously, you feel like maybe this isn't such a good idea (as though that thought hadn't been bouncing around your head for the past few weeks). It’s so dark, weighed down with a heavy gloom that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You grind your teeth, clenching the strap of your bag between your fists as you steady your beating heart.

What if it’s a trap? What if he knew what you were planning all along and now he was here to collect you, punish you, kill you? Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, scared to announce yourself, to give yourself away.

Your focus shifts immediately at the slightest sound of someone’s soft boot against the floor. You feel your hands flex for something, anything you can use to defend yourself. You’re almost disgusted by the second-natured pull it has—the basic instinct that had been torn out of you during the Games.

It takes a moment, but you notice the second figure stepping out after you and release a sigh. Your fingers relax just a bit, feeling the slightest bit of tension as it slips out of you. “Tigris,” you sigh.

She goes to you, wrapping her arms immediately around your neck and pulling you in. There’s a weight there that both eases you and urges you to hold on tighter. This will be the last time you ever see her…

Tigris pulls away, though her hands are still firmly on your arms. “Did you get here safe? No one saw you?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, removing your hood and your glasses to unveil yourself. “Pretty sure I look like any other highborn schmuck in this place.”

The first figure, a woman you have yet to be acquainted to, steps forward for you to see. Her face is stern, it betrays no softness as she scans you. Her eyes are dark, her hair is darker. She's got tanned skin and a muscular build that you'd see on the ones from your home, or perhaps even District Two. She's a little older than you, an inch taller. She’s dressed as one of the workers here, her uniform as standard as the rest of them, her brown hair tied back in a tight bun.

“We have to be quick,” she says. “The train leaves in ten minutes.”

You let go of Tigris, schooling your expression to be just as hard as her own as you look her over. “Who are you?”

“Your only ticket out of here,” she says. “My name is Josephine, and from now on, you answer to me.”

You raise a brow. “I’m getting real tired of answering to people.” Is that not the whole reason you’re here?

She matches your expression with no patience for your reluctance. “Do you want to get out of this alive?”

You look at Tigris, then at Josephine. With a sigh, you glance down and nod, “Yes.”

She hums. “Then you do as I say when I say it. Otherwise, you screw us all. Do you understand?” You nod. “Good.”

She turns and starts walking further into the shed. You follow her, Tigris walking next to you as she leads you to a large crate. “You’re going to get in here, and I’m going to seal it. Don’t worry about suffocating, you’ll be fine. I’m going to wheel you out with the rest of the cargo, and we’re both getting on that train. Until we reach our first District, you stay in the crate. Silent. Do you understand?”

You nod. She smiles. “Say your goodbyes.” She begins to stack two other crates onto a large cart, leaving you to each other.

She’s crying. It’s the first thing you notice when you look at her. When you feel her arms wrap around you again, you let yourself be wrapped in her. She holds you tight, with a lot more strength than you would have thought her to have. You bury your face in her neck, letting out a slow, trembling breath in an attempt to keep yourself level.

“Please be careful,” she says, her grip just as tight as before.

“You, too.” You pull away regretfully, squeezing her arms with all the worry in your chest. “Don’t get hurt because of me.”

She raises a hand to cup your cheek. “I will be fine.” Glancing over at Josephine, waiting patiently by an open crate, cushioned inside only by a seat of hay. To look less suspicious, you imagine. “I think you’re in good hands.”

You nod, resisting the urge to hug her again as you feel your hand absent-mindedly reaching for your belly. You swallow thickly. “Goodbye, Tigris.”

She squeezes your hands twice. “Bye.”

There’s plenty left unsaid, only you don’t know what any of it is, you just know it’s put to rest.

With a sigh, Tigris pulls away from you, turning away and disappearing from the shed and from your life.

You turn toward Josephine and nod. Climbing into the crate isn’t difficult. You throw your leg over the side and hoist the rest of your body in. When you’re safely sat inside, Josephine gives you one last look before she’s sealing you in, trapping you with nothing but the slightest slivers of light from the breaks in the wood and the holes at the top. The banging of nails is loud, unyielding, it sets every nerve on edge as she locks you inside.

“It will be a long ride to Nine,” she says. “Just sit tight and stay silent, alright?”

You nod, feeling as though your breath is too loud and your voice isn’t loud enough. “Okay.”

You’re shrouded in darkness when she throws a large drape over all the crates, and you almost startle when you feel it move underneath you. You hold your knees close to your chest and try not to hold your breath as the loud squeaking of opening doors fills your ears.

When you hear voices surrounding you—people boarding the train, Peacekeepers barking orders to passengers and workers and other grunts—it all feels so surreal. And terrifying. It’s terrifying. This isn’t going to work. It would be too easy—all things considered. You’re going to get found out, and you’re going to be sent back to Coryo, and he’s going to have you killed.

You decide it’s time to stop thinking.

The crates stop, and you think you were right all along. Then you feel yourself being weighed back all the way to one side and realize that you’re just being loaded into the freight car.

And after a long, long while filled with nothing but distant voices and more cargo and more footsteps and slamming doors, a loud horn is sounded into the air.

And the train begins to move.

~

Everything is sore.

The crate rattles and clatters around you. Your back throbs harshly from the uncomfortable position you've held for the better half of the last day, your stomach is growling from the lack of food, your behind is aching, and there's a sweltering heat in the air, worsened by the small space.

It's hard to focus on anything when you hear the sounds of people on the street and birds in the sky and squealing wheels and horse hooves on cobblestone. You brace your hands on the walls enclosing you in the space.

You try to look through the cracks of the crate at what is around you. All you can see are the fleeting sights of people bustling through a busy street. It reminds you of the marketplace back in your home district. You can smell stale bread and animal shit and something else, and it makes you want to vomit.

Your concept of time is a little dull by the time the scene has completely changed. You think it's been about thirty minutes, and you're surrounded by the sounds of the wheels moving on top of dirt and the snorts of horses. You can still smell horse shit, so that hasn't changed, but there's the smell of fresh grass and something else to accompany it.

The wagon comes to a stop.

As though you have much of a choice, you huddle in on yourself as you hear heavy footsteps rounding to the back of the wagon to unload the crates next to you. Your crate is grabbed, and you try to stay quiet as you slap a hand over your mouth.

You hear the slight groaning of people lifting your crate, and you panic in trying to stay still as you're wobbling around. They carry you away from the wagon, and you just hope to whatever’s hearing you that these are the good guys.

After a moment, you're put down unceremoniously. There's a pause, then the sound of something metal, and then the top is being pried open by a crowbar. Your heart hammers in your chest, your breath kicks up to a million, and you feel like your brain is about to explode.

The lid comes off with a loud crack!. The face peering in on you is unfamiliar, but it doesn't seem surprised to see you. You don't move just staring back at him before he's backing away as well.

Then you see Josephine. She gives you a reassuring look that helps to calm some of your stress. A hand instinctively falls to your belly as you feel your heart slow just a pinch. She holds a hand out for you. You reach out and take it.

When you stand, you look around at where you are. The glaring sun isn't beating down anymore, but that doesn't change the fact that you're sweating, and you'll probably continue to sweat.

You're in a barn house. It's a nice size, big enough for a large family. There are corn husks and pieces of stalk and leaves all over the floor. There are tools and more tools and more crates and all the necessary items for a barn house (with more emphasis on the barn part than there is on the house part).

You take in the sight of the people surrounding you. There are quite a few, all with a varying amount of emotions across their faces. You swallow thickly, glancing at Josephine for some support. You don't know her well, but she's the only one you're sure is your friend (in the rather loose meaning of the word).

“Everyone,” she says, coming up to stand next to you as she addresses the people in the room. They watch you as they listen to her. There's a boy with brown hair and freckles younger than you, not quite a child but not yet a man. There's a woman older than Josephine with a few gray hairs on her dirty blonde head. Before you're done examining everyone, Josephine’s talking again. “Meet our newest guest.”

“No fucking way.”

Your head snaps to the voice who'd just spoken. You can see a woman your age, skin dark and hair short. There's a type of resentment in her eyes that you are not new to. She looks extremely upset by the sight of you, and you think ‘Great. More people who hate me.’

There's a guy standing next to her. He looks really similar, a brother, maybe. His hair is short like hers, he's much taller. His face, though, isn't as thoroughly repulsed than hers so you think maybe there's hope.

“What is she doing here?” He addresses Josephine directly. “Is this why you didn't tell us who it was?”

“She's fled the Capitol,” she states firmly, reaffirming her positions as the apparent leader. “Our job is to harbor people in need of shelter. She is one of them.”

“Why should we help her?” the woman asks spitefully, looking away from you like you hadn't even existed a moment ago. “What has she done for us, huh?”

They're speaking around you. You don't like that they're speaking around you, like you aren't even there. Something itches inside of you, something that should have dissolved a long time ago that you still find poking around when people aren't taking you seriously.

“Calm down, Via,” her brother says, turning to with an almost exasperated look. At least now you know this isn't an exclusive reaction, though it may be a specialized one.

Josephine’s eyes stay focused on this “Via” character as she speaks. There's an authority in her voice that is undeniable. “It's fine, Vincent.” She pauses like she's giving her rebellious subordinate a silent warning. “She's one of us. We protect our own.”

It's so strange to hear that. “One of us.” Like you're actually part of something, and not some “other” option that no longer belongs to a people anymore. You're so used to the insults: scum, filth, animal, murderer, something that's so worthless to a person's time and energy. Even from your own master, you are—you were—nothing but a pet. Just an animal.

Now you are, apparently, one of them.

Not everyone feels the same way.

“She's not one of us. Not anymore. She's Capitol now.” She turns to you, disgust curling her otherwise pretty features. “Look how she dresses, look how she stands, listen to how she talks.” She makes this scoffing sound. Your hands turn to clenched fists, and an anger seethe within you at this treatment that you hoped would start to dim with the start of your new life on the run. There's so much disdain for you in the things that she says, and you're sick of hearing it.

“She may have been District once, but now?” She shakes her head, raising a finger to point at you. “That's Capitol trash.”

That makes you snap. You don't mean to do it. After years of biting your tongue just to keep your head, after years of being conditioned to take these insults as you try to scrape your life together into something sufferable, being slapped in the face with them by someone who's supposedly on your side (who's supposedly “one of us”) isn't something you can keep down.

It spills like molten lava from a volcano. There's nothing fast about it, nothing striking. It burns your mouth and your chest and everywhere that it's been festering. It spews, but it moves so slowly and so softly that the lethargy is easily mistaken for a weakness, rather than this corrosive thing that's been eating you up for so much time.

“You don't understand what it was like.” Your throat burns as you try to keep it down.

She looks at you with spiteful amusement, as if to say, “It talks!”

“How what was like?” She raises a brow and pulls her voice slow to cut deep. “Being his little pet? His slut?”

The initial explosion comes in short spurts. Your mouth is hot as it forms around the words, words that are so unhelpful that they just continue to burn your tongue.

“He made me.” Flashes of Coriolanus flit through your mind. His smirk is embedded deep in the fabric of your thinking, his lips melding against your skin and his teeth sinking into the flesh are committed to memory.

She's unconvinced. “But you were happy to do it, weren't you?” She steps closer, and Vincent follows hesitantly, as if to ensure she doesn't do something stupid (or to back her up if you decide on something stupid). “You lived in the lap of luxury while the Districts suffered and funded your little paradise.”

“Volivia.” “Via.” Both Vincent and Josephine speak at the same time in an attempt to rein her in.

“No, it's fine.” You shake your head, taking a moment to choose your words. You lick your bottom lip in thought. “For a time, yes, I did enjoy myself.”

She scoffs and gestures toward you with an I-told-you-so look plastered on her face. “Like I said,” she spits. “She's a Capitol slut.”

Your voice raises a smidgen when you speak again, but you try to refrain. You almost don't realize your tactic, the way you speak, the way you try to establish yourself. It's written like Snow.

“Snow sought me out after the Games.” You take a breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. “I was alone and hungry and a lot of people in my District hated me for what I had to do during the Games. They threw rotted food at my house, they stole the food sent to me from the Capitol that I was going to donate most of anyway. I wasn't even allowed into some places because they hated me so much.”

You push past the bile rising in your throat, remembering the way everyone used to look at you. Friends who'd known you for years, who'd known your parents, who you'd practically grown up with turned on you just for “winning”.

“Some understood but no one wanted to risk being turned on by everyone else, not that I blame them for that. People need to eat… So I was really…alone.”

You sigh sparingly, like you're conserving air like rations. “Snow found me and offered me a contract—a spot in the Capitol where I could have a chance to be happy, as long as I became his assistant.” You swallow thickly. “And I agreed.”

Volivia isn't easily persuaded. “And it was so bad going to all those parties? Getting served fine wine and fancy foods?”

The fatigue gnaws at you. “You know, everyone thinks the Capitol is so sophisticated, but they always forget that I was still District.” Your blood begins to boil in your veins, thick like lava as you think of everything you've been slapped with. “They insulted me, and they laughed at me. Some spat at me on the street if they were so inclined.”

You wince. You hadn't meant to word it like that. Volivia wasn't entirely wrong when she said you were basically Capitol. You don't have Capitol blood in your veins, but you've got some of their nerves in your brain, and that's hard to wash out.

“I wasn't much better until Snow gave enough threats that they were forced to stop. You wanna know why I'm so much like Capitol now? Why does a possum play dead? Why do children in the Games kill other children?” No one speaks. “To survive.” It's always about survival. “I spent six years with them, how could I not conform?”

A softer voice speaks, the freckled boy you'd first seen when you arrived. He seems a little shy, if not curious. He tilts his head, speaking tentatively. “What about Snow?”

You look down at your feet. Images of him flash behind your eyes again, but you pretend they don't. Thinking about him won't summon the man, so you don't understand why it feels like it will.

It takes a while for you to garner the courage to reply. He waits patiently, hoping he hasn't offended you.

“My first month there,” you lick your lip, “I spent just getting used to running his errands. I was still so new, and I didn't want to disappoint him because I was afraid he would do something bad to me.” He glances down at his hands.

“But he called for me one night, and I came…” You screw your eyes shut, keeping them that way as you try to say these next words. “I came and he told me to get on my knees.”

A mixture of emotions runs through everyone. Most avert their eyes and look sort of awkward, offering silent sympathies or simply trying not to impose on your unease.

But Volivia will not be persuaded that easily to your side. “Please–”

“One night, I made the mistake of thinking we were on the same level when he threw me to the ground and told me I was nothing but District scum, whose only job now was to please and serve him.” She doesn't speak. “He called me an animal and a whore and told me that I belonged to him, made sure I wouldn't forget it, too. So your insults aren't really hurting me. They're just pissing me off.”

There's a little less venom when Volivia speaks again, but she still isn't kind. She can't let you know that you've affected her. You don't blame her. You would've done the same.

“That doesn't mean we should help you,” she argues almost weakly. “You signed a contract, you knew what you were getting yourself into. You left the Districts behind to become the enemy.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, guess what?” You throw your hands in the air, frustration at the both of you for prolonging this so much. “I'm a goddamn idiot who didn't read the fine print.” You take a step forward. Everyone reacts, but no one moves.

“Do you know what my contract said?” She raises a brow. “If I disobeyed Snow for any reason, he would drop me back at Seven and put my name back into the raffle a hundred times over so I was sure to go back to the Games.” You shudder at the thought. The very idea of going back to the arena is haunting.

You start to feel physically sick. As you imagine yourself running through that arena, your blood pumps through your veins and it itches so much that you think you’d break skin if you started scratching. Your muscles jerk, urging you to move as you stare into Volivia’s eyes. She’s staring at you, glaring. When you look down at her hands, her fists are clenched.

She’s going to hurt you. Don’t just stand there. Run! You swallow thickly. It’s all in your head. Run or you’ll die! Your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t think you can breathe. Go, now!

You close your eyes shut. You’re hit with an immediate wave of regret. Images of blood and gore, the sounds of screams and raging shouts fill your ears.

“I can’t–” You catch yourself. Swallowing thickly, you open your eyes and see her again. There’s something there, not quite confusion, not quite fear anymore. Your voice wavers as you speak quietly. “I can’t do that a second time. I can’t go through that again. The things we did, I…”

You take a step back. It gives away your power, but you can’t bring yourself to care yet. You keep your back straight, keeping your eyes open and focused. Do not show fear. They’ll smell it off of you. And you will die.

“We were just children.” She had red hair, like fire. It stuck out like a sore thumb. His was like night, but he just wasn’t quiet enough. “My games had the most number of tributes under 14 years old than we’ve ever had.” She was dark, he had freckles, she had two tones, he was sick, so was she.

You’d been able to shove it all down for so long, you almost thought you’d forgotten it all. He was so afraid of the dark. And he was so funny, so they cut out his tongue. And she–

“Do you remember their names?”

You turn toward the freckled boy. He’s really sweet. He reminds you of Willard, who had the kindest smile, even as the light was leaving his eyes.

“I remember…” you lick your lips. “I remember their names. I remember how they died, when they died. And I remember how sweet some of them were before they rang the bell.”

You feel childish, standing there and saying everything that you’re saying. It feels wrong, it feels like a sad attempt at sympathy. But you don’t want sympathy, you just want peace. You want to go to a land far, far away where you can forget everything. Where you can sleep without his eyes, their screams, their scowls.

“I would have done anything not to go back. That includes being a whore.” You focus a hard glare at Volivia, walking toward her again until you’re practically toe to toe. “So, yeah, I fucked Coriolanus Snow, but if you went through what I had to go through, there are a lot of things you would do to avoid that arena.”

She stares silently at you, a hard expression on her face battling her own conflictions.

On one hand, you represent everything a District citizen should not be (in her eyes at least). You were too well-spoken, too well-dressed. You smelled like expensive perfume, you kept a posture stiff as a board. Your hands are rough but your nails are pristine.

On the other, as she sees now…you bleed District blood; thick, dirty, and pumped straight from the heart. Even though you talk like money, you huff and bark and claw like an animal. You show her you’re dangerous by bucking up. You don’t waste your time with threats.

Volivia looks you up and down, licks her bottom lip, and steps away. You release a tiny breath. The tension in the barn house feels a little easier.

Vincent walks forward, gently grabbing Volivia’s arm and pulling her back to his side. “I’m sorry,” he says. He offers a small smile, a peace offering. “You’ve been through a lot.”

You sigh, relaxing enough to ease the pain in your back, your feet, your head. “I just want to lay down.”

Josephine reasserts herself. “You’re welcome here. Make yourself at home,” she says. “Vincent. Can you take care of her?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head to the side, motioning for you to join him. “Come on.” You look between him and his sister and begin to walk forward. Volivia huffs, moving forward and shoving past you with the harsh brush of your shoulders.

She grabs a shovel from its leaning place on a wall, turning back to you and shoving it into your chest. “We’re not freeloaders,” she says. “Wherever we go, we work. Until you get too big to help anyone, you’ll be working, too.”

She turns to storm away, balled fists, scowled face, and all. She pauses as she gets to Josephine. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll use that shovel to dig our graves.” In the next moment, she’s throwing open the doors and leaving you all to gawk.

Josephine gives Vincent a look, and he just sighs and gestures once again for you to follow him. Josephine follows Volivia out of the barn.

You walk next to him as he leads you toward a flight of stairs. “Ignoring Via, we can’t risk letting you out of here so soon. You’ll have to lay low, so you’ll stay in the barn until we’re sure it’s safe.”

He leads you to the open attic. There’s still hay everywhere, still tools and loaded sacks and crates and the like. But there are shabby beds with shabby sheets, enough to fit one more.

“You’ll sleep up here.” He looks around the room, and then scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry for the lack of hospitality.”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect. All I need is a bed.”

He nods, doing a once-over of the room. “There will always be someone here to watch over you and make sure you’re safe. But, on the off-chance that someone we don’t know comes by, you hide in here.” He walks toward the small window. Underneath it is a bench that lines the wall. It’s stacked with crates and sacks and whatever else. He moves some sacks onto the floor and lifts the seat, revealing a small nook big enough for a single person to safely hide. “Just stack some empty sacks on top of yourself. You should be safe—it’s worked before.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m happy to help,” he smiles. There’s a moment of awkwardness. “I’m Vincent. Downstairs was my sister, Volivia. Before you ask—yes, we’re twins. I’m sorry about her hostility. She gets in trouble a lot with Peacekeepers so nothing scares her too much.”

You almost chuckle. You had your fair of arguments with Peacekeeper grunts before you were pulled from the raffle. The ones in your District were glad when you were chosen. It only meant less trouble for them. “It’s okay. I understand.” You look away. “I would have been the same way if someone like me showed up unannounced.”

You see him move out of the corner of your eyes. Though your instincts have dulled a bit during your time in the Capitol, the movement still makes you flinch a little. He’s sure to move extra slow as he sets a hand on your shoulder. “You’re safe here.”

You nod, taking a short breath. “Thank you, Vincent.”

Vincent hums. “Your bed’s right there. I’ll let you rest.”

When he descends the steps, the breath you let out deflates your whole body. You head toward the bed, sitting down slowly to keep it from falling apart underneath you. You lay down to rest your head on the pillows and bid your eyes to close.

There’s a strange feeling in being so far from him. You don’t feel…free. You feel like there’s a string (or a rope) wrapped around your neck, tying you to him still. It’s a loose bond, but it’s ever-present. It feels almost inevitable, this binding holding you to him.

Still, you try to urge yourself that it’s entirely fictional. There is no rope. There’s no chain. You made it up. You made it up to feel safe, controlled, tethered to the ground and not lost somewhere in the depths of absolute insanity.

You made it out. Everything will be okay.

~

PART THREE: Luxury

It’s been two months.

They kept you locked inside for a couple weeks before they felt safe enough to have you participate in chores. Volivia was pleased to have you start working. She was starting to call you a freeloader. Vincent did his best to make you feel welcomed, despite his sister’s hostility.

Josephine has been very accommodating, but she’s firm. It’s more grounding than it should be. There’s someone still in charge of you. Where you would have felt fatigued by the constant inferiority, you welcome it with silent gratitude. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know how you would have done this on your own—you could have managed to survive well enough, but complete freedom isn’t as wonderful as some people make it out to be.

Gylan’s become important to you. You don’t know what it is. Maybe your mind is preparing you for a child by making you feel too protective over this boy, but you don’t care too much.

Which is a lie. You do care. Because if you care too much and you lose him, how are you to cope with that? At any moment, it could all come crashing down. Coriolanus is cunning. He’ll find you. He’ll find you, and he’ll hurt you, and he’ll make sure you can never betray him again.

That said, you haven’t been very optimistic. Gylan helps with that.

Every day has been the same. Wake up, get dressed, do your chores (which range from doing house duties to feeding the horses to shucking corn—it's a corn field—or whatever else there is to do), eat, go to bed. It’s tedious but it’s honest work. Sure, the bed is shitty, the food is some corn recipe with stale bread on the side most days, and your body hurts all the time, and you're constantly tired, but it feels nice to do something other than run around the Capitol just to have people dismiss you with wishes it is not your duty to perform.

At least here, you’re doing something to help. A lot of this food goes to the Capitol, but what isn’t used for that goes to the Districts.

You’ve begun to show a bit. There’s a little bump on your belly that you find yourself massaging sometimes. It’s never conscious. But it’s comforting.

Gylan asked what you thought you wanted to name the baby. You just shrugged and made a joke about naming them after him if you turn out to have a boy. He laughed, a really excited laugh. It’s refreshing, seeing someone so happy, especially all the way out here in District area.

Vincent has been appointed as your bodyguard—though you’re pretty sure he appointed himself your bodyguard to make up for his sister’s attitude. You don’t mind it either way. When he isn’t working, he’s by you ensuring that you’re okay. While you would normally find the constant company draining, he’s very good at avoiding it.

Sometimes it’s unnerving, being around Vincent. He’s very sweet, you don’t wonder about that, but…there’s something about him that confuses you. Gauging his thoughts is hard sometimes.

Volivia is less confusing to you. You’ve tried your best to avoid her. But it’s a small barn. She hasn’t been overly bitter; although she’s no sweetheart. She doesn’t insult you, but there are some backhanded compliments here and there. You appreciate her effort not to target you.

Sometimes you can’t breathe.

Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air, like you’re being buried alive. It’s quiet enough that you usually don’t wake anyone. You don’t know why this happens. Even before, your nightmares were obvious to you. These…they’re much different. It feels like you’re suffocating.

Maybe he drugged you. Or maybe it’s some sort of device planted into your brain. He put it there so that you wouldn’t get a moment of peace when you’re not with him.

But then you realize that’s paranoid and insane.

“Get upstairs now.”

You’re startled by his tone. You wince when you stick your finger with the needle you’d been sticking through the fabric in your hands. Gylan had a tear in one of his shirts from when one of the horses gnawed on it that you were fixing.

“What’s happening?” you ask, putting your stuff down to stand. There’s a hint of fear in your voice that you try to keep away.

Vincent grabs your arm, though he’s gentler than you expected as he pulls you up the stairs with him. Volivia is picking up your tools, throwing them into some crate to discard. There can’t be any evidence of your presence. She’s less patient than her brother, but you’re not upset by that. “There’s no time. Just go.”

You both move quickly up the stairs. He opens the cupboard for you, taking out all the sacks for you to get inside. When you’re inside, he sets them over you and ensures you aren’t seen. “Don’t make a sound.”

You hold your breath.

Loud footsteps are heard downstairs after the door opens with a force that could only come from a Peacekeeper. You would be shaking if the adrenaline coursing through you wasn’t so familiar. You treat it like the Games because it is. He’s hunting you. You have to be silent.

There’s talking downstairs that you don’t understand. It sounds like mumbling, and you can’t even try to focus on it over the loud beating of your heart. You take in a slow, silent breath, hold it, and let it out just as quietly as you took it. You feel a little less like you’re dying.

The heavy footfalls of soldiers come up the stairs. You close your eyes and remain as calm as you can, listening to all the different sets of feet as they come.

“You got anything up here?”

Volivia’s is the voice who answers. She sounds pissed, more than usual. “We’re farmers. What the hell do we have to hide?”

A set of boots scuff on the floor when someone stops. It sounds so close to you. You think you’d be mistaken for a statue if you were discovered, you’re so still. “Just answer the question.”

“No.” That’s Gylan. You almost lose all your calm worrying about him. But he’ll be fine. He’s supposed to be here.

You hear the Peacekeepers start to throw things around. You hear mattresses lift off of weak wooden bed frames and fall to the floor. You hear heavy sacks of tools hit the floor with a loud clatter, anticipating the harsh bruising that’s to come from it. Someone beats on the nook next to you. You’re so startled, you jump with the slightest movement. It’s just small enough that you don’t draw any attention to yourself.

They keep kicking them, not hard, just enough to see if they can hear anything. Your heart is running wild. You can hear it pulsing in your brain.

Everything is still. Silent. You could hear a pin drop (or, perhaps, even your heart hammering in your chest).

“We hear anything about this again…” there’s the sound of a heavy boot, “and we’ll burn this place to the ground.”

You don’t know what happened. All you hear is Vincent saying Volivia’s nickname like he’s warning her. You’re supposing she bites her tongue, because nothing else is said.

After a moment, the heavy boots retreat. But you’re not immediately retrieved. You think you’re hiding in that cupboard for another five or ten minutes before someone finally comes to get you. It’s Gylan. He looks extremely worried, but he’s putting on a brave face for you. It’s sweet, but you don’t want him to have to do it.

“Josephine is on her way,” he says, helping you out.

Vincent is gathering things. “Pack your stuff, only light essentials. We have to get out today.” He comes up to you, passing over an empty sack. (You’re getting tired of seeing sacks.) You grab it, but he doesn’t let go yet. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle and his eyes just as much. You nod. He lingers there for a moment, making sure, and then turns away to continue packing.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you start to pack some clothes.

“I don’t know,” Vincent replies. “It’s better not to say until we get there anyway.”

Josephine returns half an hour later. She’s carrying a bag over her shoulders that she hands off to Vincent. He passes his own back to her, looking up the stairs where you wait with Gylan. He’s telling you about which Districts he’d been to since he joined Josephine when Volivia’s calling you both down. You both grab your things and follow.

“We won’t take the train this time,” Josephine says. “It’s too risky.”

“We’ll travel by foot?” Volivia wonders. Wouldn’t that be risky, too? You’re easier to catch on foot. But she has a point, you’re easy to track by train…

“Until we reach the old farm at the edge of the District borders. There should be an emergency wagon there for us to use.” She turns to Gylan. “Are there any horses already there? Do you know?”

“There should be,” he says. “Penny said she checked up on them yesterday.”

“Good. Make sure you have everything. We leave in five minutes.”

~

It feels better, not walking so much.

The farm on the outskirts of Nine is even smaller than the one you’d been at for the past two months. It’s old and pretty run down. All the crops are bad from poor keeping. You don’t think anyone actually lives there. But they have an operational wagon and two horses that usually roam the area, so that’s all that matters.

It’s dark as the wagon takes you through the woods. You'd been traveling for over a day now. It’d been comforting to reach some trees. Being out in the open like you were felt so dangerous.

You peek through the tent, looking up at how dark the sky was. It isn't this dark in the Capitol. Too many lights. The stars are so bright here…

“How are you feeling?”

You look at Vincent, who’s holding the reins to guide the horses through a path in the trees. You shrug gently. Your body is sore—it’s always sore—your stomach is uneasy and you have a mild headache. They’re things you can ignore well enough until the wagon dips and makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

“I’m okay, but this sickness is wearing me out,” you answer.

He chuckles lightly. “Do you wanna walk a bit? Via knows how to drive.”

The wagon is moving slowly enough that you could manage to trail behind it. It would be nice to break away from the uneven motion it’s putting you through, but the thought of walking isn’t giving you much relief with the way the bottoms of your feet ache.

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay. My feet still hurt from yesterday.”

He hums. Glancing away from the path, he gives you a gentle smile and pats the spot next to him. “Come sit next to me.”

Your stomach flips for another reason. You don’t want to get out and be seen… You don’t know who would see you, but the nerves eat away at you every time you think of the chance that you could be caught and condemned.

“You sure we won’t get caught?” you ask anxiously.

A light chuckle comes out of him as he nods. “Yeah. We’re basically in the middle of nowhere.” He scoots over a little. “Come on.”

You swallow thickly, thinking about it for another moment and assuring yourself that’s he right. There’s likely no one for miles. “Okay,” you mutter, hoisting yourself out of the wagon so you can pull yourself into the seat next to him. It takes some maneuvering, but you get there.

You sit next to him for a while. It’s so dark out and the ambiance of the horses and crickets and everything else around you is nice. You can feel yourself relaxing as the night air kisses your skin. You could fall asleep right then and there, but you refuse to. You’re too vulnerable right now. If you fall asleep and something happens… who are you to believe that you’re safe here? You know better than that.

You know it's foolish, but there's a bigger part of you, a wiser part of you that knows that you should always anticipate danger before you consider being safe.

So you don't sleep. The rest of the ride is silent, and you enjoy it as you try not to let your heavy head fall onto his shoulder.

~

District Eleven is beautiful.

Even in the dark, the vast orchard of trees to one side and field of strawberries to the other are breathtaking. The air smells sweet, the perfumes of the fruits in the late summer night waft into the air lovingly. You haven't been around such lavish fruits since you left—and even before that, they were never grand orchards of them.

You help the group unpack the essentials from the wagon, taking them inside with tired but dutiful movements in order to get in a bed faster. The owners of the orchard are kind, and they have a separate house from the large shed that is actually big enough to house all of their newcomers. It's nothing like the lavish mansions of the Capitol but it's spacious and comfortable and you don't share a room with five people. It's just you and Gylan.

Gylan is an easy sleeper. As soon as he plops into his bed for the rest of the night, he's out like a light. You don't have such luck. While he enjoys his slumber, you sit by the small window with your arms around your legs and stare out at all the greenery.

You don't know what time it is when a soft knock comes to the door. You quietly bid the person to come in. Gylan doesn't hear, he's a really deep sleeper.

“You're still up?” Vincent asks as he steps inside, looking between the two of you as he whispers to avoid disturbing your roommate.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry, not easy to sleep in new places.”

He shrugs, walking over to you and standing by your bed. “I get it.” He gestures to the edge of it, “you want some company?” He raises his brows, “I can help you sleep.”

You swallow thickly, your arms tightening around your legs. “How?”

He shrugs again. “I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

You try not to let your face drop into something more upset. You look down at your lap and clear your throat, letting your legs go and rubbing at your palms.

“I…” you clear your throat, not looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I'm really not… I…” You struggle to find the words. Rejecting him feels wrong.

You're not a whore, but you owe him and you owe the rest of his family for helping you. You're not a whore, but he could choose to throw you out and expose you to the Capitol again.

And what about Coryo? What if all of this was for naught, and he'd find you anyway? What if he found you and then found out that you'd betrayed him even further by fucking someone who wasn't him? It's the fight between two very difficult choices.

Vincent's face widens instantly as he realizes what you're saying. His eyes are big as dimes, his hands reach up in surrender. He shakes his head quickly.

“Oh,” he says, his voice hushed. “Oh! Fuck, uh– No, that's not what I meant. I meant like…like a back rub or something…” He wipes a hand down his face in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, and you find it reassuring—endearing, even.

“I see how bad that sounds. Um…” he shakes his head, as if to figure out what to say, “breathing exercises, y'know?”

“Oh.” You clear your throat, your own embarrassment creeping up your neck at the realization that you'd misunderstood him. “Okay, well. Yeah, um, that's fine.”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sorry, that was–”

“No, it was my fault.” You can't believe you misinterpreted him in that way. He hasn't come off in such a way thus far, and he's going to start now? How stupid could you have been…?

“No, it's not,” he breaks you from your thoughts.”You did nothing wrong.”

You don't believe him, but it's…nice to hear that you're not to blame. Even if you don't believe him. You should have known better.

“Okay…”

It gets quiet. And awkward. You sort of just sit there, and he sort of just stands there. It's silent and strange, and you don't know what to do with yourself.

“So…” you clear your throat.

He nods, “Yeah.” Vincent rubs his hands together, glancing around and rocking on his feet. “Did you want some…breathing stuff?”

You lick your bottom lip. “I'm actually…really sore in my shoulders, if you don't mind?” You feel like you sound stupid. You're not used to expressing your needs. You're used to standing straight and doing as you're told and pretending you've got everything together. Here, you don't have much of anything to keep together. You're exposed, and dealing with that is hard. “If that's okay with you, of course,” you add on, straightening your back to try to regain some composure, any professionalism you can hold onto.

“Yeah,” he says easily. “No problem.”

Vincent moves to sit on the edge of the bed. You stand, and he pulls your chair in front of him. You sit and feel his hands on your shoulders.

He's got strong hands. You assume it's from all the work he does, especially between moving around the Districts so often. His hands squeeze your shoulders, his thumbs moving between your shoulder blades to work out the knots he can feel. You're very tense.

Your eyelids are heavy. It feels really nice. Waves of relief and—almost embarrassingly—pleasure flower through you. You sigh longingly, trying to keep from making any sounds that would make this exceedingly more awkward for the both of you.

It's quiet and comfortable, as he works out the kinks in your back. You enjoy the peace and relief, he seems to enjoy granting it. When he speaks, it's very quiet and very assuring. You lean into every word and every pause between them, processing the weird curling in your chest.

“I just want to let you know that…” he takes a quiet breath, “I wouldn't do that to you—taking advantage of you like that.” One of his hands moves down to your arm, squeezing gently and smoothing his palm over the skin. “Especially not after everything you've been through.”

You're good at reading lies. You used to hear them every day, spewing from Coriolanus’ mouth like lava. But Vincent's words don't spew. They're soft and sweet, they're sincere and they're kind and you believe him.

You swallow thickly. “Thanks.”

“If you ever need anything, I'm here.” His voice is even softer now, dropped down a few pitches just to really make sure you understand what he's telling you. “All things considered,” he chuckles lightly, “you're safe here.”

That isn't a concept that was easy to understand for you. It never has been, and you're not sure if it truly will. But you want to believe him, and you want to trust him. He isn't lying, you know he isn't, you can hear it in his voice and feel it in the way he works his fingers into your back.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting them stick together like they're glued with sap. You take in a deep breath, let it out, and allow yourself to smile. Even if you don't believe it yet, you nod and think to yourself, ‘We're safe.’

Coriolanus Snow taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess @secretsicanthideanymore @tvparty18 @nowitsmissing @vi0lentb3rry @hiireadstuff @feyresqueen Tag yourself here...

[percyluvr]

hiii !! could you please do percy x apollo reader where she's like this super sunny girl and everyone thought that her and her ex were perfect together but her ex ends up breaking up with her after losing interest. and maybe the breakup kind of splits everyone into sides because it was healthy but also heartbreaking (and percy, without even knowing, is somehow is her #1 advocate to everyone even if they don't know each other / barely ever talked before) and everyone watches as she slowly loses her spark and stops showing up for things, stays in bed all day, stuff like that and percy suddenly feels her absence and has enough of it and helps her pick up the pieces of her heart. he doesn't really pressure her to date or anything he just tries to be there for her by brightening her mood and teasing her and stuff and eventually he helps her move on from her ex. and like maybe a couple months pass of them being friends but also lowkey more than that and she confesses to him after annabeth or her friend makes her realize that she actually like LIKES percy when she loses it in a mad or a sad way at the sight of him with another girl (and she usually has her emotions in control) but yeah thats basically it !! thank u for reading this :)) hope ur having a good dayy

percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader summary: your boyfriend breaks up with you and percy becomes your #1 defender, falling in love with you in the process wc: 4286

You, along with pretty much everyone else at camp, thought that your relationship was perfect. Being with your boyfriend was like a fairytale to you, but apparently it wasn't for him.

"Hey, so um, thanks for meeting me. I hope this isn't too random, but I just don't think our relationship is working anymore, and I think you feel it too," he says, looking into your eyes. If you weren't so in love with him, you probably would've smacked the crap out of him for this. You'd never been happier in your relationship, and he thought it wasn't working? You weren't quite sure if you were mad or sad in this moment.

"Oh. If that's what you think, then I agree," you reply, sadly smiling at him, trying to pretend that your heart wasn't breaking into a million little pieces.

"Alright, I still really like you and I hope we can be friends still," he says, and you know that he's saying it without malicious intent because he really is a good guy, which makes you even more frustrated.

"Sure, of course we can."

He gives you a hug and tells you to have a good day.

How are you supposed to have a good day when you just got dumped by the love of your life? You genuinely wished you could be mad at him, but he was just such a genuine and nice guy that you couldn't. You know that he only said it out of the good of his heart and because he didn't want the relationship to actually go downhill, but you were still frustrated and sad.

As if your day wasn't bad enough already, news of your breakup had already spread throughout camp, and everyone was looking at you with sympathetic looks. You had hoped to the gods that you could go at least a day before this happened, but of course not.

You got your food and sat down at your table, your siblings immediately crowding around you and asking you questions and trying to comfort you. You could hear people at the other tables talking about the breakup, and from what you could hear, people were taking "sides" in your breakup, even when they thought it was mutual.

"Hey, I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry, but we're all here for you, okay?" You hear one of your sisters say, but it doesn't really register. At this point, you feel numb, and you aren't really hearing anything people are saying anymore.

Later that day, you're sitting by the river, small sniffles being all you can manage to muster up after crying your heart out for the last 45 minutes. You're looking out at the water, thinking about what went wrong, when you hear footsteps approaching.

"Are you okay?" You hear an unfamiliar voice ask.

You don't even bother looking up. It's probably just another person here to tell you how they're on your side.

"No, but it's fine," you reply.

The person sits down next to you, and you finally look over, finding Percy Jackson sitting to your right.

He looks back at you, "hey, I'm Percy. Sorry if I'm interrupting, but I was just coming over to swim and I heard you crying."

"No, it's fine. I don't own the beach," you weakly laugh. "My boyfriend broke up with me today, if you're wondering why I'm crying."

"Yeah, I heard about that. I'm really sorry that happened to you, you seem really sweet."

"Thanks, but it's okay. He wasn't rude about it or anything, just said that he didn't think our relationship was working and that he hoped he could still be friends," you muttered.

He makes a sympathetic sound then says, "that's almost worse. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that, especially if the person is genuine."

"Yeah, it really broke my heart. He was so genuine about it, and that's what really hurt. He still cares about me but he just doesn't love me anymore," your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, and you look back at the water.

"Jeez, that seriously sucks. But hey, I'm sure it's not you that was the problem, maybe what he wanted in a relationship just changed?" It sounded like he was going to say more, but you made a sob-like sound and he immediately shut his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm really not good at this," he says awkwardly after a moment of silence.

"It's okay. If it helps, I do feel a bit better at least. You're not as bad as you think you are," you look over at him and he's already looking at you.

The two of you talk a bit more, before you excuse yourself to your cabin, not telling him why, but he suspected that you were going to cry more, and it made him sad to see you like this.

The two of you weren't friends, you were barely even acquaintances, but Percy now felt responsible for defending you. Every time he overheard a conversation where people were taking your ex-boyfriend's side, he would walk over there and set them straight, telling them how great you were and how the breakup wasn't your fault at all, and he should've been grateful to have you, even though the breakup wasn't messy at all.

People started to joke that he was the leader of your fan club, which secretly made him feel all weird inside. At the time he didn't know what he was feeling, but when he looked back at it, he knew that this was when he started to fall in love with you.

If, even a month ago, someone would've told Percy that the girl he'd always had a tiny crush on would've been single, and he was now openly defending you like his life depended on it, he would've first told them there's no way you did anything wrong, so what was he even defending you from? And second, he absolutely does not have a crush on you. Lastly, he would ask if you were really single, but not that he was asking for himself, he was definitely asking for a friend.

"Dude, you need to calm down defending her. She's not gonna let you hit just because you're taking her side," some camper makes the mistake of saying to his face.

"What the hell is your problem? Not everyone is trying to get a girl to 'let him hit.' Some of us are just decent human beings defending our friends," Percy says, before promptly soaking the guy in water and walking away.

This incident was just one of many where a camper makes the mistake of talking bad about you. At this point, he was one of the two people at camp that didn't know he was falling for you. You were the other, obviously, because how could you know someone else was in love with you when you were busy wallowing in your sorrows in your cabin?

About a week after you were broken up with, you began to distance yourself from all of the activities at camp, including the ones that once brought you so much joy. You'd never thought of yourself to be someone that would drown in their own sorrows, but then again, you'd never really experienced anything that would've proved yourself otherwise.

So, here you were, cuddled up in bed under about 5 blankets, mascara stains under your eyes, a box of tissues next to you, and another romcom on the TV, when you could've been outside doing archery or in the infirmary gossiping with your siblings like you would've done before the breakup. Your heart was aching so badly that you could barely even wake up in the morning. After your talk with Percy, you thought that it was easing up, even though that was only hours after the breakup actually happened, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

After a few days of this behavior from you, Percy was sick of it. He was sick of not being able to see you, and he was sick of you being sad. He went to the Stoll brothers and asked them to smuggle some ice cream in for him, as well as a stuffed animal and paid them extra to do it as fast as they could.

Every few hours, your siblings and friends would come into the cabin and check up on you, sometimes staying to watch a movie or two with you before leaving again and telling you to come get them if you needed anything. You heard the door to the cabin open again. Thinking it was just another one of your siblings, you ignored it and continued watching your movie. What you didn't expect was for Percy Jackson to be standing in front of you mere seconds later.

"Hey, I'm sorry it took me so long to stop by. I brought some ice cream, I don't know if it'll help or if you even like this flavor, but I thought it might help," he says, an awkward smile on his face, awaiting a response.

"Oh, well, thank you," you say, wiping your face, now slightly embarrassed about the mascara that was staining it.

"Hey, don't worry about the mascara, I get it. Well, I don't get it get it, but y'know what I mean, right?"

You let out a small laugh. "Yes, Percy, I get what you mean."

"Oh! I also brought this teddy-bear. It's the sunshine care bear, 'cause you're an Apollo kid," he smiles.

"Aww, thank you so much, Percy. It means a lot to me. Do you want to stay and watch movies with me?" You ask, desperately hoping he'll say yes.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'd love to," he replies.

You scoot over in the bed, patting the spot next to you, signaling Percy to sit down, and he obliges.

"So, what are we watching?" He asks.

"Well, I'm starting to run out of romcoms, so I've started to rewatch some. We're about to watch 10 Things I Hate About You," you say with a smile.

"What's it about?"

You explain the plot, and he listens with genuine interest.

This situation happens a few more times, before he finally asks you if you're ready to come back to camp activities. He doesn't add that he misses you when he's out there, but he desperately wants to. He refrains from any flirting because he doesn't want to pressure you, but it kills him to not be able to tell you how much he already likes you, even after just a few days of hanging out with you.

You tell him yes, and you'll be back to doing your activities tomorrow, to which he's overjoyed. He's never been happier in his life, and the two of you aren't even dating. Even when you are ready to date, if you still don't like him, he realizes that he would be happy just to be your friend.

When you're back to your regular responsibilities at camp, you realize just how much you've missed it. It takes a bit before you get back into the ropes of archery, but one wouldn't say you were bad. As an Apollo kid, you could never really be bad at archery, which you appreciated. Once you'd gotten the hang of it again, you realized how much you missed it. Archery had always been relaxing to you, not just because you were a daughter of Apollo. Even before you'd come to camp, your mother had you in archery lessons, and you'd enjoyed it even then. You were fully concentrating until you heard a familiar voice calling to you.

"Hey, I'm glad you're back out here. It's so good to have you back," Percy says, pulling you into a hug, the very first hug the two of you had ever shared. It was surprising at first, but you quickly melted into it.

"Yeah, I'm so glad to be back out here. I missed it so much. I owe you so much for getting me out of that bed, I was miserable."

He blushes. "Nah, it's fine. I knew you would feel better being out here, you love it too much to stay holed up in there, even if those romcoms were good," he jokes.

"Right? I knew you liked them," you say with a smile. "But yeah, you're right. I love being out here with everyone, and I love archery too much to give it up to cry over a boy."

He solemnly nods. "Yeah, I just can't tell you enough how good it is to see you out here. You look so much better, y'know? Your skin is like, glowing again."

You smile. "Thank you," you're about to say more when you hear a voice, specifically a voice belonging to the last person you wanted to see right now.

"Hey! It's good to see you out here," your ex-boyfriend says casually, as if he didn't rip your heart in two and cause you to become a hermit for 2 weeks straight. Percy gives him the nastiest look you've ever seen in your life, and try your best to contain your laughter, but you end up letting out a weird choked sound which earns you a smile from Percy and a weird look from your ex-boyfriend.

"Sorry, swallowed wrong," you say to him.

"Oh, alright?" He says confusedly, before trying to give you a hug, to which you not-so-accidentally swerve. He raises his eyebrow and you shrug.

"Uh, anyways. Yeah, good to see you too," you say before walking away with Percy, leaving your ex-boyfriend standing there confused. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you really couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him right now.

The next day, you're in the infirmary, gossiping and laughing with one of your sisters, when Percy walks in, clutching his arm. You immediately get up, speed-walking over to where Percy is now standing.

"Hey, what happened?" You asked him, ushering him over to one of the beds.

"Was just doing some practice sword-fighting with your ex-boyfriend and he stabbed me right in the arm. I would've just gone to the ocean and healed it with the water, but I wasn't sure if it would heal this," he says before moving his hand from the deep gash on his bicep.

"Oh sweet Apollo, that was not an accidental stab. Sit here, put your hand back over it, I'll be back in a second," you say before rushing off to collect some supplies.

When you come back, you see Percy sitting with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering some unsavory things under his breath.

"Here, give me your arm," you request, to which he obliges.

You gently wrap his arm with gauze, noticing how intimate your position was and feeling awkward. You didn't want to mention it, not knowing if Percy felt the tension too. You tried to finish up as quickly as possible, hoping the awkward atmosphere would vanish. Unfortunately, it did not. When you finished, you noticed that Percy was staring at you with a weird look in his eyes.

"Um, I'm done, if it still hurts, I can get you some painkillers," you say, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

Apparently, this breaks him out of his strange trance, and he nods.

"Yeah, uh, painkillers would be good," he replies, still in a slightly dazed state.

You rush out of the room as quick as you can, trying to avoid his gaze. When you were browsing the painkillers trying to find the best for his situation, you kept replaying the scene in your mind. You were trying not to be delusional, but you swore that when you caught Percy staring at you, he started to blush. You pushed it out of your thoughts and brought the medicine to him.

"Take two to four of these every six hours, and the pain should be gone in about two to three days," you said, handing him the container.

He nodded. "Okay, thank you. Maybe you can prescribe some pills to calm your ex down or something," he joked.

You laughed softly. "I wish we had any that would help. Just try to stay away from him. The breakup was his idea so I really don't get what his problem is," you say.

Percy shrugs, and the conversation ends.

Over the next few weeks, you see Percy in the infirmary more than you've seen him there in the past 4 years combined, which is odd, but you don't really think much of it. The injuries are all very small, and he could definitely heal most, if not all with water, but you don't comment on this, as you've really been enjoying having Percy's company during the day.

A few months pass on, and it's another slow day at the infirmary. You're talking with your sister and drinking lemonade, when something outside catches her attention.

"Hey, do you mind if I leave for today? I saw my man walk past just now. I'm thinking today is the day I confess!" Your sister tells you.

"Yeah, sure. I doubt anyone else will come in today anyway. Go get him, girl!" You encourage.

She basically runs out of the infirmary, making you laugh.

A few minutes later, Percy is back. You weren't expecting him back today, as he'd already been here this morning, but he was always welcome.

"Hey, Percy. What happened now?" You ask.

"Oh, I'm fine. A bunch of other people are going to the beach later, and I was just wondering if you were going to be there," he says shyly.

"Hm, I guess it really wouldn't hurt. When did they say they'd be there?"

"Uh, they said they were planning to go in around 30 minutes, I think," he replies.

"I mean, there's no one else scheduled to be at the infirmary today, but it's pretty slow today, so I guess it'd be fine," you conclude.

"Alright, awesome, cool. I'll see you there then," he said before rushing out. You looked out the window and the sight of him jumping up and down and cheering made you laugh harder than you'd laughed in a long time. He looked back through the window and saw you already looking at him. He gave you a pained look and ran off.

"Wow, I sure choose normal people to be friends with," you mutter to yourself before writing a note and putting it on the infirmary door saying that it'd be empty for the rest of the day. You went to your cabin and began changing into your swimsuit. You put a pair of jean shorts and a yellow tank top on over your swimsuit and grabbed a towel.

You talked to your siblings that were in the cabin for a bit before heading down to the beach. You spotted Percy sitting on his towel, looking at everyone else that was swimming. You put your towel down next to his and sat down.

"Hey waterboy, whatcha lookin' at?" You asked.

"Nothing really, was just waiting for you so we can swim," he says, smiling over at you.

"Alright, let's go then," you say, taking off your shorts and tank top as Percy watches, not noticing how intensely he was staring until you cleared your throat.

"Are you going to just sit there and stare at me, or are you gonna come with me to the water?" You teased, causing him to blush a deep red.

He immediately takes off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen, which you should've expected, he was a swimmer after all. You were in awe, but he spoke up, "now look who's staring."

He grins at you before grabbing your hand and running to the water. Your shorter legs had a hard time keeping up with him, but you somehow managed.

The two of you splashed and swam until the water began to get cold. You both raced back to the towels, bundling up and sitting on the beach.

"Hey, we're going to have a bonfire, if you guys want to come," Connor Stoll says to you and Percy.

"Yeah, sounds cool," Percy replies for the both of you.

"Alright man, awesome. We're going now, so."

You and Percy grab your stuff and follow Connor to the campfire.

As the sun sets, you're all chatting and roasting marshmallows.

"Hey, Perce. Thanks for inviting me, and thank you for helping me get over my break up. We weren't even really friends before and you still helped me. I don't know what I would've done without you," you confess.

"Yeah, yeah. It's no problem. I mean, you're really sweet, and I'm glad to call you my friend now, too."

You smile, and spend the rest of the night quietly talking to Percy, which catches Annabeth's eye.

The next day, you hear a knock on your cabin door. You open the door to probably the last person you would expect to be there, Annabeth Chase.

"Hey, what's up? Who're you here for?" You ask.

"You," she says, causing your eyebrow to raise.

"It's nothing bad, at least, not for me."

"Uh, okay," you say, stepping out of your cabin and closing the door behind you.

Annabeth sits down on the steps, and you follow.

"So, I noticed you and Percy last night at the bonfire," she says with a small smirk on her face.

She must've seen the confused look that flashed across your face, because she laughs. "You two were all over each other, I swear. You two are so in love it makes me sick. There's no way neither of you have noticed this. I'm not even going to bother bringing it up to Percy because he has seaweed for brains, I swear. But you're smart, so I'm saying this to you. You two like each other, and it's physically paining everyone else at camp to see you two pining over each other like idiots. Please, for the love of the Gods, tell him how you feel, because I guarantee he feels exactly the same. That's all."

If there was any time to take a bow, it would've been after that speech, you think.

"Well, after that I guess I have no other choice," you joke.

This seems to satisfy her, because she gets up and pats you on the shoulder before walking away and wishing you luck.

Later that day, you decide that you're going to tell Percy how you feel, consequences be damned. I mean, if Annabeth Chase is telling you to do something, you better do it.

That night, you're standing in front of the Poseidon Cabin, mustering up all your courage to go inside and confess your feelings to Percy. You open the door, and all your confidence that you had conjured up fizzles right out when you see Percy sat on the floor talking to some girl that you didn't know the name of. His eyes catch yours, and you feel the tears forming. You turn around and run out as fast as you can, not caring how crazy you look running through the camp and crying. When you finally reach the beach, you sit down. You didn't expect Percy to follow you, so when you heard footsteps and heavy breathing, you jump up and scream.

"Hey, woah, you're very fast," Percy says in between heavy breaths.

"What do you want?" You ask, tearing streaming down your face.

"Wait, what's wrong?" He asks, clueless.

The question only makes you cry harder.

"Hey, c'mon, don't leave me in the dark, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah, and I guess that's all we'll ever be," you snap.

"What are you talking about?"

"Percy, please," you say, exasperated.

"I don't know what you're talking about, okay. Please just explain."

"Okay, fine," you say, trying to control your crying. "I was going into your cabin to tell you that I like you. No, I don't just like you, I love you, Percy. That's what I was going to tell you. But then I saw you in there with that girl, and it upset me, but at least now I know you don't like me back, so that's awesome."

"Hey, hey, slow down now. Who ever said that I don't like you back?"

"What?"

"You just said that I don't like you back, but I never said that, okay?"

"But what about that girl?" You ask.

"She's from the Aphrodite Cabin, she was helping me figure out how to tell you that I like you. No, I love you," he says your name, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

"Oh," you say, now feeling extremely stupid.

"Yeah."

"Well, um. I'm sorry for freaking out on you," you manage to squeak out.

"Hey, it's fine, okay? I probably would've done the same thing if I was you, don't worry about it," he says, grabbing your hand in between his two larger ones.

"So, um, what now?" You ask.

"Well, we could always kiss," he jokes, not expecting you to actually say yes.

When he feels your full lips on his, he feels like crying, and he thinks he actually does, if the salty taste in his mouth is any sign.

You kiss for what feels like hours, breaking apart for air.

"So, uh, what would you rate that kiss out of 10?" He jokingly asks, breaking the silence.

"Um, probably a 9. But I could rate more accurately if I got to experience it again," you say, and he immediately takes you up on this, crashing your lips together in a somehow more passionate kiss than before.

a/n: okay so i DEFINITELY went crazy with this, but it was just such a good request so thank you saur much and i hope you like this !! i tried to follow it as closely as possible but i got kinda carried away on some parts,, this is also the longest fic i've ever written on this app so do with that what u will

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

"You're going, Jason, and you don't even want to. I don't see the problem with me tagging along."

"It's a problem when you look like that."

You smiled, proud at your efforts of making yourself look presentable for another one of Bruce's grand galas. It would be your first time attending one of his events, thinking it would be a good time to officially introduce yourself as Jason's lover.

You pulled a strand of your hair away from your face and admired yourself in the mirror. Usually, you don't spend so much time dressing up, but you decided that you wanted to make a good first impression when meeting Jason's family.

You assumed Jason knew you were coming with after he told you that he'd be going to the gala, and you thought it was an unsaid invitation, like usual. Every time Jason said he'd be going somewhere or to some sort of event, he'd expect you to come with.

So it surprised you when he asked why you were all dressed up, even when he was all fancied up too.

"You look nice... But why?"

"What do you mean, Jay? I'm going to Bruce's gala with you, no?" You asked, confused as to why he was asking.

His eyes widened. "What? No, no. I know you usually come, but not tonight. Maybe another night, sweetheart," he says.

Your head tilts to the side. "Why not tonight? It's a good time to meet the rest of your family, Jay! Well, I mean, I already know Dick, but I wanna meet everyone else!" You say excitingly.

Jason sighs and sits down on the bed. "I promise you, darling, you can meet them another time, just not tonight. A lot of people are gonna be there, so I doubt you'd get the chance to talk to them anyway."

"You sound like you'd be embarrassed if I showed up," you scoffed.

"I wouldn't! I just don't want you to come!" He argues back. You paused for a moment. He didn't want you to go with him? Was he actually embarrassed to be seen with you? Your insecurities start to bubble inside you. Sure, you weren't rich or owned a lot of fancy clothes. Hell, it was Jason who bought you the outfit you were wearing! And yeah, there would be a lot of prettier, more good-looking, fit people out there... that Jason could find mire attractive...

"You're going, Jason, and you don't even want to. I don't see the problem with me tagging along."

"It's a problem when you look like that."

Sorry, what? What did he just say? Why did he say that? How could he have said that so casually? Why is he looking at you like he didn't say anything wrong? Why does it look like he's.. proud of what he said?

You look back at the full-length mirror. Insecure thought starts to fill your head.

So he is embarrassed to be seen with me? I guess the outfit is a little too tight. I think I did go overboard with the foundation. I wouldn't wanna be seen with me either.

"Oh," was all you replied with as you slowly made your way into the bathroom that was in his room.

Jason's gaze followed you. Panic began to run his system. Wait, what did he just say again? "It's a problem when you look like that." What was wrong with that? He thought you would've been happy to hear that from him.

Oh shit.

Realisation punched Jason harder in the face than any blow that he got from Bruce, Dick or any other villain he was fighting.

Jason quickly stood up from the bed and strode to the bathroom door that you quickly shut close.

"Y/n! Wa-wait, love, I didn't mean that! I meant like-"

"It's fine, Jay, just go ahead, I'll stay here," he heard your little voice crack, and his heart broke into a million pieces.

He tried turning the knob to open the door, but to no avail as you've already locked it.

Jason leaned his head against the door, trying to get you to open it. "Darling, c'mon, please open the door. Please, let me talk to you, I- I didn't mean what I said," he begged.

When you opened the door, you were already out of your outfit, wearing your pyjama pants and one of Jason's shirts.

Your eyes were red, but you were smiling. "I said, it's fine, Jason. Just go, please. I'll meet your family another night."

Jason's eyes widened, and his head started shaking. "No. No, no, no. It's Jay! Not- not Jason. You never call me Jason. Sweetheart, please, listen," he pleaded as you tried nudging him out the door.

Jason turned around and grabbed your wrists, leading you towards the bed. He sat you down as he sat beside you, gently holding your face in his hands as he softly caressed your tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs.

"Y/n, my love, listen to me. I didn't mean that. When I said it was a problem that you look like that, I meant-" He sighed. "I meant that you looked drop dead gorgeous. Stunning. Amazing. Breath taking. Do you know how many people would be there tonight? Trying to steal you away from me?"

"Jason, why-"

"Jay."

You rolled your eyes playfully at his interruption. "Jay, why the hell would I let them 'steal me away' when I have a perfect man right here with me?"

"Because I'm not perfect! And there's someone who is perfect out there that you might find and leave me for, because you're perfect too!"

You scoffed. "Honestly, Jay. Do you know how many times I've dreaded you going to those galas because I might believe the same thing? That you're going to find someone better than me?"

"There's no one better than yo-"

You quickly cut him off. "Jason Tood, I swear to god, shut up." And he did, and you continued. "When... When you said that, I finally accepted that you didn't want me anymore. That you found someome perfect, and that was why you didn't want me to go. Because I don't fit in with everyone else. With all those rich, fancy people. Because let's face it, I don't, I really don't. So, yeah, I know you meant something different when you said that, but... I can't imagine any other interpretation of it. Even if you explain what you actually meant by it," your voice quiets down as you look down at your fingers intertwining each other while you pick on your nails and skin.

Jason's shoulder sag as he brought you in close. His lips leaned against your forhed as he muttered apologies loud enough for you to hear.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," He kissed your forhead. "It really wasn't what I meant," he kissed it again. "We can go together to the gala if you want," he kissed it a last time.

You sniffled, the sound making his heart ache, you looked up at him, shaking your head. "No, I don't really feel like going anymore," you say quietly, your voice hoarse. "I'll be okay, Jay," you whispered, "I promise, you go."

Jason sighed, letting go of you and getting up from the bed. When you think he's about to leave the room, he walks around the bed to the bedside table where his phone lies. He makes a call, the person picking up on the other end after three rings.

"Yeah. Yeah, Dick, uhh, I won't be coming tonight. Ye-Yeah, I know, I couldn't care less about what Bruce says, I'll see you tomorrow, bye," and he put his phone back on the table, removing his jacket, tie and dress shirt, leaving him in just his trousers after removing his belt.

Your head tilts in confusion, and Jason swears it was the cutest thing he's ever seen.

He lies down on the bed, grabbing you by the waist, pulling you down as he wrapped you in a warm, tight embrace, leaving light kisses all over your face as you giggled from the affection.

"Next gala or event or family meetup or whatever, you're coming with me, and I'll introduce you to my family," Jason mutters, his face buried in your hair.

Your eyes glow, "Really?" you asked, already excited.

"Really," he lowly replied, kissing the crown of your head.

[kazvha]

Okay but blue lock character(s) after seeing that their name in your phone is just “name surname” after you send them a ss of something and they are like “Excuse me??????” (Bachira totally wouldn’t go all pouty and mad because he has you as some cheesy as shit with million emojis)

Summary: Isagi's & Bachira's (separate) reaction when they see that you saved them as their surname

Notes: This was long due, I'm so sorry for taking so long!!!🥲

Isagi

• You showed him the picture you set as the background for your chats

• It was a pic of you and Isagi being all lovey-dovey on one of your dates

• He loved it, his background is also a picture of you two

• But he was surprised when he saw your contact name for him

• 'Isagi'????

• He wasn't sure if he should ask you about it or not

• He pondered about it the entire time you spend together

• Before you could say goodbye though, he finally asked you. It just took him a few hours🥲

• "Earlier when you showed me your phone, I saw that you saved me as my surname? Can't it be something... more intimate?" He sheepishly looked to the side

• You thought it was really cute of him

• "You're saved as 'Yoichi<333' now! Happy?" You gave him a side hug.

• He smiled. "Yeah."

Bachira

• You noticed that Bachira chose a new ridiculous profile pic like he always does

• Intrigued, you took a screenshot of it and texted your boyfriend about it

• "Megu, what in the world is wrong with your new profile pic?"

• "Oh this is? This is just me running away from some aggressive ducks after I noticed I don't have any breadcrumbs anymore. Doesn't it look funny?"

• After cracking up for some minutes about this memory, he noticed the contact name he had in the screenshot you sent him

• 'Bachira Meguru'??? Seriously??

• No nickname, no hearts, no nothing!?

• Did you want to break him?

• "Babe what is this :("

• "What?"

• He sent you the screenshot you took again, but this time his name was boldly underlined with a red color

• "THIS!😤" "Don't you love me anymore?? Is that it???😭😭😭

• This guy... Being dramatic as always in your relationship

• You quickly replied before it escalated more

• "Noooo😭 That's what I saved you as when I got your number, I forgot to change it lol"

"Change it now before my heart breaks completely🥺😔"

• You really didn't have the energy to deal with a sulking boyfriend. It was already tiring to deal with him in his 'normal state'...

• So you changed his name to 'Honeybun🍯💛' and sent him a screenshot as a proof

• "Much better😍 I guess I won't have to break out of the Blue Lock facility anymore😃"

[yinyuedijun]

sooooo is Dan Heng seeing his dream self rail you, you think? or is he watching you solo and you see him, thinking he’s part of the dream and needs him to come touch you? 👁️

(reference to this post!! also it was not my plan to write a drabble but it happened 😔 cw voyeurism, breeding, dragon fucking, gn afab reader)

hi beloved 🫶 forgive me if these are mild spoilers for the dreampeek calls, but they're actually audio-only! I'm not sure if you've done them but it's a literal phone booth that will allow you to listen to randomly chosen acquaintances' dreams if they happen to be asleep. so dan heng is calling, not sure who he'll hear—maybe pompom dreaming about penacony dishes, or jing yuan dreaming about matters on the luofu, etc. but instead the call connects and he hears... a very familiar moan.

he doesn't entirely register what he's listening to at first. the rhythmic creak of a bedframe, the slap of skin against skin, your voice calling for him—gege, please, please—all overlaid with the distinctive and obscene noise your pussy makes when it's dripping all over his cock. I missed you so much, you keep panting, I tried using my fingers while you were gone, gege—but it just—it just didn't feel—ah...

your voice clips off into a whine. dan heng recognizes it: the one you make when he presses a hand against your abdomen while seated deep inside you, forcing your g-spot against his cock. he can practically hear your tears in your overwhelmed voice. wait, wait, you whimper, if you do that, if you keep going—

your voice cuts off into a gasp this time. a million scenes fill dan heng's head: is he grinding his hips against yours, pressing himself tight against your walls? is he playing with your swollen clit? did he throw your legs over his shoulders, put his cock so deep inside you that you can hardly breathe? you love all of those things—you've said it yourself, clawing at his back and begging for him—so he isn't sure what you'd be dreaming about.

you'll what? his dream self asks. in reality, dan heng almost jolts, hearing himself over the phone.

I—I'll cum, you reply, voice small.

he hums. already? he asks, and he's more surprised than he is mocking, but the noise you make in reply still sounds a little embarrassed. go ahead, then, he says. you'll need to be relaxed anyway, if you want both of them inside you for the rest of the night.

th-the rest of the night? you whimper, sounding overwhelmed, but not displeased.

of course, he says. how else am I going to breed you?

dan heng's mind goes blank at the exact moment the call drops off. he's never said that to you before—never known that you wanted him to say that, let alone do that to you—and the way this new information is making his cock throb is distracting him from the cheerful voice of the dreampeek platform.

"your acquaintance's dream has now ended," the program announces. "we hope you enjoyed your experience today. would you like to make another call?"

"no thank you," dan heng replies immediately. "I have somewhere else to be."