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theglassofmiddleearth · 4 months ago

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Evenfall

Imagine you wake up in Twilight as a random side character. (Part 3)

Nullification!reader Human reader! SideCharacter Bella! Isekai au! Edward Cullen X reader. Eventually Jacob Black x reader. (2 endings.) (All characters will be written less creepy and one dimensional than the ones in the books.)

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That night, Y/N remembered to close her windows.

Just finishing her night routine, she headed over to her bedside window and began to pull it down shut. As soon as she reached the curtains of the open window, a small rock sailed past her head.

Y/N’s eyes followed the projectile, her face in almost as much shock as it was earlier this afternoon.

‘What in the flying f-’ Y/N snapped her head to look outside of her window and lo' and behold it was a certain pale boy who looked guilty. ‘What the hell was that?!’ Y/N whisper yelled, not wanting to alert Charlie who was only a couple rooms away.

‘Sorry… I uh, can I come up?’ Edward mouthed, the security lights lit his face just enough for Y/N to read. The moon, illuminating his striking features.

‘Okay?’ Y/N hesitantly nodded, knowing that he could very well choose to just come back when she was asleep. She stepped back from the window and waited on her bed. A small, easy to miss thwump sounded outside her window as two familiar hands appeared, gripping her windowsill.

As Edward pulled himself up easily, Y/N made herself busy, tucking herself into bed, covering her legs with her blanket.

‘Can you close the window? I turned on the heater, it’s kinda cold. Make sure to close it when you leave too.’ Y/N pulled out her copy of the book they would be studying this year and waited for Edward to speak.

‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ The boy stood, somewhat uncomfortably. ‘Y’know with your head and all.’ He gestured to Y/N with his hand, looking extremely nervous. His face was taut, full lips pulled back in a thin line.

‘I’m fine Edward, but thanks for checking up on me. I appreciate it. And thank you again for saving me.’ Y/N nodded, giving him a relaxed smile ‘Um, feel free to sit?’ She gestured to the end of her bed.

‘Right,’ He relaxed a bit, settling himself down on the edge of her bed. ‘I was thinking. How about we decide on a day for you to come see Rosalie and the rest of the family?’ He gave her a wavering grin. Knowing Edward, he was probably thinking something morbid about eternal damnation and what not. He was quite the moody character.

‘I mean sure, but couldn’t we talk about this at school tomorrow?’ Y/N raised her eyebrows, slightly confused as to why he needed to talk to her tonight.

‘Um, tomorrow is Saturday.’ Edward began slowly, now looking at her with concern again. ‘Are you sure your head is okay?’ He leaned forward, reaching out his hand to place on her forehead.

‘Man that's cold.’ Y/N wrinkled her nose at the contact. ‘How have people not figured you guys out yet? You guys are pale as heck, super conventionally attractive and feel freezing to the touch.’ Y/N let out a chuckle, batting Edwards hand away from her forehead. She set down her book, abandoning her idea of reading before bed.

‘Well, we make it a habit to stay away from other people.’

‘I see. Okay well, when do you think is a good day to meet your family?’ Y/N grabbed a pillow, squishing it against herself.

‘I’ll be away tomorrow hu- I mean, eating.’ Edward grimaced.

‘Hunting? Bears and stuff right?’ Y/N nodded along, resting her chin atop her pillow. ‘Y’know you should practice talking to humans more often. It’s no wonder you’re slipping up.’ She smirked. ‘ “I’ll be away the whole day eating.” Is not a sentence one commonly uses in human conversation.’ She snickered, throwing her pillow at Edward to which he caught easily.

‘Right, sorry.’ He gave her a sheepish grin, settling the pillow down on his lap.

‘So, a vampire huh?’ Y/N looked at him with a blank stare. ‘What do I smell like?’

Edward’s eyebrow twitched slightly at her question, ‘Vampire? You came to a conclusion quickly. It’s only been a day.’ Narrowly avoiding her question.

‘Well I know for a fact you aren’t spiderman. He’s at least nice.’ Y/N shrugged. ‘And don't you avoid my questions. It doesn’t work on me.’ She kicked him slightly, under her blanket. Edward let out a surprised chuckle, not flinching at her sudden attack.

‘Okay well, you’re right. We would be considered vampires. I was thinking Sunday? You can come over if you’d like and we can explain all the details there?’ He gave her a hopeful smile, handing Y/N’s pillow back to her.

‘Yeah sure! What time were you thinking? Charlie will be away in the morning to go pick up his daughter, her plane got delayed by the snow.’ Y/N hummed, not wanting to push her questions on him.

‘I can come pick you up too just as he’s leaving. I think it’d make him feel better. He’s not too uh, fond of me?’ He gave her a cheeky grin. Edward remembered the emotions he heard in Charlie's mind when he placed his hand on Y/N's shoulder in front of the Chief.

‘Duh, boy and girl together? Charlie is a father. I can’t blame him for his instincts. He doesn't know that you have no interest in me.’ Y/N shrugged, leaning back against her headboard head in her arms. This was nice, Edward wasn’t in a perpetually sombre demeanour. It was a welcome change from what she knew in the books. Y/N gave a small smile, peeking up at him through her arms. Edwards black eyes were glinting. His lips were carved into a smile, one with an emotion she couldn’t place.

‘Okay well, I’ll see you on Sunday then!’ Y/N nodded, sliding into bed, raising the covers to her shoulders.

‘What, are you gonna stay and watch me sleep?’ She teased, nosing her face into her pillow with a cheeky grin. Edward was stunlocked, eyes bug wide and jaw slack.

‘I uh, I wasn’t going to. That’s not what I was thinking!-’ If the seventeen year old boy could still blush, his cheeks would be blazing cherry red.

‘I’m just teasing you. Go home Edward, go do your thing. I'll still be here come Sunday. Don’t miss me too much, yeah?’ Y/N rolled her eyes, clicking off her bedside lamp. ‘Turn off the lights for me? And close the window when you go okay?’

‘Um, if i-’

‘You’re cute, but not cute enough to be watching me sleep. Go home.’

‘I was going to ask if you wanted me to bring you back something.’ His tone was embarrassed and indignant, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

‘Edward, what could you bring back from a hunting trip?’ Y/N looked at him quizzically, options flashing by in her mind.

‘Flowers?’

‘Y’know what Ed? If you find a pretty rock in a river, bring that back. Then maybe I’ll let you watch me sleep.’ She snickered, closing her eyes. ‘Good night!’

‘I WASN’T GOING TO!’ He let out in a hushed cry, his small, boyish grin, giving away his amusement.

As Edward turned to leave, Y/N, blinked her eyes open and called out his name once more.

'Hey Edward?'

'Yes?'

"I'm not afraid of you or what you are. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have saved me.' She looked at him with a firm expression, sending a pang into Edwards unbeating heart.

'That being said, if you watch me sleep without my permission I will find a wooden stake.' Y/N grinned, breaking the tension easily.

'So that means at some point I will have permission?' Edward cheeked, already half way through the window.

‘Night!~’ Y/N sing-songed, rolling over to face the other side of her bed. She heard her window give a soft thump as it closed. That night, Y/N dreamt of red cloaks, black smoke, Wolves and the Cullen's.

The morning could not come faster.

And yet somehow, the dawn came and Saturday began in a cold sweat.

Saturday morning was spent reassuring Charlie that,

Y/N was safe, no repercussions of the incident had severely injured her other than her shoulder being slightly bruised.

Bella’s plane delay wasn’t too big a deal and that the car coming from Billy Black today would still be in the same shape as it would be tomorrow.

‘Okay but if it hurts you'll let me know.’ He insisted.

‘Yes!’

‘And do you think Bella will like the truck?’ His doe-eyes were soft and begging. From what Y/N remembered, Bella probably got her eyes from him. If Y/N was a bit older…

‘I haven't seen the truck yet, show me!’ She smiled, ending her train of thought quickly. Nearing the front door, she heard the growling of a truck engine, spluttering its way to sleep.

The pair stepped outside, spotting the old 1953 Red Chevy. Y/N had assumed that the truck was in the garage since Charlie parked his cruiser on the street. Huh, this was a little different. Though it made sense, there had been a few inconsistencies in Fork since Y/N had arrived.

‘Hey! You must be Y/N. Besides Bella’s imminent arrival, Charlie hasn’t shut up about you either!’ Billy gave a fatherly smile, reaching out his hand to shake. Y/N shook his hand, grinning somewhat proudly.

‘I hope I met your expectations sir.’

‘No need for that, call me Billy. This is my son Jacob.’ Billy jerked his thumb to point at his son who was still looking at the truck. Billy once again gave her a reassuring grin, and ushered Y/N over to Jacob's direction.

‘Hey!’ Y/N walked over to Jacob, who had waved at her somewhat awkwardly. She let Charlie and Billy catch up with each other.

‘Uh, hey. I’m Jacob.’ He smiled nervously, wringing his hands together. His deep-set twinkling eyes were darting around her form. He really did have the most lovely raven black hair and russet skin. Y/N could understand why Bella had trouble deciding between the two. Besides, she was what, seventeen at the time? Could you really blame her.

‘I’m Y/N. Bet you were disappointed to see me huh? Bella’s coming tomorrow, her plane got delayed.’ She explained, giving him a rueful grin. Jacob however, shook his head, hands waving rapidly in protest.

‘Oh, no! Not at all! I’m thrilled to meet you! You look great!’

Y/N raised her eyebrows with mirth.

‘No! I don’t think you look- I mean, you seem great?’ He supplied, looking more nervous now than ever. His tone was now flighty with panic. He was cute. Beautiful even.

Y/N chuckled, punching his arm gently, ‘You sure about that? Sounded more like a question to me.’

‘I just meant that, I’m not disappointed to meet you instead of Bella.’ He sighed, looking sheepish. Damn, a lot of men were looking sheepish lately, Y/N made a mental note. Deciding to cut him some slack, she relented.

‘I know, just messing with ya.’ She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. ‘Come on, tell me about the car. It looks pretty munted but Charlie said it runs pretty well?’ Y/N gave him a go ahead gesture, to which Jacob launched into a full scaled detail of how he rebuilt the car engine. His long black hair bobbed along with him as enthusiastically gestured to the engine.

‘Alright, kids, Billy has more chores to do in town and I want to show Y/N around town before Bella comes. I wanted to do it yesterday but.’ He trailed off looking guilty.

‘It wasn’t your fault Charlie. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were there or not.’ Y/N said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder shaking her head.

‘Wait, she was the one in the car crash yesterday?’ Jacob looked upset, stepping forward from leaning against the truck. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, some guy. He skidded into me. It was a whole thing. Look guys, the point is I’m fine now.’ She pouted, arms crossing. ‘Now let’s hit the road, I want some breakfast.’

Jacob and Billy had joined them for breakfast at The Lodge. It seemed that Charlie had wanted to take Y/N there after school that day but the incident had happened. The waitress had been surprised that it was she and not Bella who had arrive with the group but Y/N quickly reassured her that Bella would be arriving the next day. And with that, breakfast came and went. It was satisfying and Y/N had been given the peach cobbler to try. It was in fact, absolutely delicious. By all means, Y/N called it a successful day.

With Charlie gone back to the police station in the afternoon after dropping Y/N back at the house (to her insistence). Y/N could finally mentally debrief herself. It seemed as though she had take on the role of the main character instead of Bella. This indeed was quite concerning for many reasons. The main thing Y/N was currently frazzled over was the self declared fact that Edward and Jacob held pretty much no attraction to her.

Adding to that matter, Edward didn't answer Y/N's question of how her blood smelt. What if he found her revolting. It would explain why he looked like he had been punched the first time he saw her. Could humans smell revolting to vampires?

As Y/N continued to spiral down a pit of what-ifs and what-nots. The sun had begun to set. She had wasted an entire day worrying over things she couldn't control and it had not at all made her feel better. Trudging upstairs to her room she nudged open her door and slumped into her desk chair, groaning.

'What seems to be the issue?' The musical voice of Edward came from her window.

'How in the-' Y/N sat pin straight. 'When did you get back?' She turned around, standing up to greet him, half confused and half surprised.

'Well we left as soon as I got home from your house so we've had more than enough time to uh, eat.' He chuckled, still supporting his upper body with his arms, crossed on her windowsill.

'Um, do you want to come in? I mean honestly, you could have just rung the door bell.' Y/N deadpanned, still happy that he at least waited for her inviation. Y/N stood back as Edward hoisted himself up.

'I brought this back for you?' He smiled, revealing his perfect teeth. 'I went fishing around for it.' Edward pulled out a rough edged, pastel pinkish stone from his pocket with a proud grin.

'Oh my goodness!' Y/N laughed, looking at him with complete astonishment. 'It's gorgeous! Did you really find it from a riverbed?'

'Here, Edward gently grasped Y/N's wrist and placed the rock on her flat palm. 'It's rose quartz and yes I really did find it in the riverbed. You said you wanted a rock.' He looked eager, as if waiting for praise. Not dislike a puppy asking for treats.

'It's lovely Edward, you really didn't have to. Thank you so much.' She placed her newfound gemstone onto her nightstand gently. 'Wow, we're quite early on in our friendship for gift giving.' She laughed, sitting down on her bed, gesturing for him to sit as well.

'I really was joking though, I'm not the kind of person who really enjoys gifts. Don't go out of your way for me. I don't want to be an inconvenience.' She gave him a rather sad smile. 'I wasn't even able to give you anything back. I'm sorry.'

Edward in turn, shifted closer to her, poking at her forehead. 'I didn't do it because I wanted anything in return. I just thought it would be nice.' He sighed, sitting back into his place.

‘I wanted to thank you for.. Well for telling me you weren’t afraid of me.’ His eyes were trained on Y/n’s but it looked as if he was far away. Deep in a bygone era that Y/N would have never seen.

‘Wow, you really are an emo huh?’ Y/N gave him a little grin, handing him one of her pillows.

‘Y’know you’re so pretty that most people wouldn’t think someone like you would have such…’ She paused, looking to the side for an answer. ‘Such self deprecating thoughts. I mean, you cringed when you saved me.’ She squinted, looking at him in reflection.

‘Did you regret saving me?’ Y/N rested her chin on her open palm, looking at Edward with confusion.

‘No. I didn’t. I do not.’ The boy answered immediately, looking affronted. Placing the pillow in his lap, smoothing it over with his hands.

‘Then why did you look like you were in pain?’ She asked him in a docile tone. Y/N knew she was pushing his boundaries. Bella had always asked questions upfront and Edward had always avoided them.

‘I can’t.’ Edward growled out, one hand gripping the cotton sheets on Y/N’s bed, eyes cast downwards.

‘Hey, you can choose not to answer.’ She quickly placed a cautiously gentle hand on his enclosed fist. ‘Just, don’t mess up my bed sheets okay? I can’t ask Charlie for new ones so soon.’ She tried to joke.

‘I will tell you Y/N. But I just can’t tell you right now. I’m…’ He gritted out, looking at her with an emotion that Y/N could only describe as desperation. His hand was shaking with restraint. Y/N remained oblivious to this.

‘Hey, okay. We can talk again tomorrow. If talking to me is too much, I understand.’ She nodded understandingly. ‘Opening up to someone is difficult. Furthermore, I’d say opening up to someone so quickly is kind of.. Well… scary.’ Y/N remarked, sitting back on her headboard.

‘Thanks for listening. I don’t think… You just kind of make it hard to not tell you.’ Edward muttered, with a tone of reluctance.

‘Hey, I’ve been told I’m a good listener. It is one of my many redeeming qualities.’ She quipped, shrugging her shoulders.

‘I'm sure that there are quite a few of those.’ Edward replied smoothly. ‘How is your shoulder by the way? And your head?’ He asked hopefully.

‘One? Flattery will get you nowhere with me. Pretty faces do not sway me easily. Two? I’m okay! My shoulder still feels a bit funny when I lift things but I can just shift onto another arm. I've got two of ‘em.’ She splayed out her arms in a show of attempted dexterity which failed when she winced slightly.

‘I see.’ Edward’s eyes looked stormy, staring at her injured shoulder.

‘Hey, if you hadn’t knocked me over. It would have been the car that knocked me over. I prefer being pinned under a boy than a van, okay?’ She nudged him with her fist. Attempting to bring him out of his potential self loathing spiral.

‘Maybe if i hadn’t said what i said to you. You wouldn’t have been in such a rush to lea-’

‘Would have, should have, could have. If my father had two wheels he’d be a bike. There’s no use in lingering in the past. Unless you have a special talent where you can turn back the time.’ Y/N raised her eyebrow.

‘No thats not what I can do.’ He sighed, shaking his head.

‘What can you do?’ She probed, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if Edward would be willing to divulge his secret.

‘Well, I.. I can hear thoughts. I can read minds.’ He began, looking up at her. ‘But, you? I can’t hear a thing. Not only that, when you…’ He paused, eyes flickering as he recollected his memories.

‘Yesterday when you looked at me and frowned, you completely drowned out my ability to hear everyone.’ Edward looked incredulous. ‘It was only for a second but it was when you looked extremely panicked.’

‘Huh?’ Y/N’s jaw dropped at his revelation. ‘So you can read minds but not mine?’

‘Yes. It’s not altogether unnatural. I mean, Chief Swan’s mind is somewhat blurry to me. But to completely block me out and block out others from me?’ I haven’t ever experienced it before.’ He finished.

‘Huh, so vampires have special abilities. I was only guessing but I guess thats the gist of it?’ She asked, somewhat intrigued as if it were new information.

‘Yes. There are many gifts and talents, we’ll explain more to you tomorrow but-’ Edward sat up straighter (if that were possible), cutting himself off.

‘What?’ Y/N blinked, looking at her door.

‘Chief Swan is coming home. He’ll be here in a few minutes.’ He said, grinning at her guiltily. 'He probably won't be happy to find me here without permission huh?’ Edward gave her a look.

‘Hm, I’d say you’re right.’ She attempted to push him off her bed. ‘Time for you to go Mr Cullen.’ She teased, looking up at Edward. The boy, in turn, looked down at her with a fond smile that she did not understand.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.’ I’ll pick you up at nine?’ He made his way to Y/N’s bedroom window, foot on the windowsill.

‘Yeah, go! Before He catches you! I’m pretty sure he has a gun.’ Y/N mumbled, attempting to push Edward uselessly out the window.

‘Until tomorrow my lady!’ He jested, letting the girl move him into the opening.

‘Yes sir, I bid thee adieu.’ Y/N grunted, with a final shove, Edward was out the window and landing softly on the ground. Just in time too. Charlie’s car was scratchily rolling through the gravel of the front driveway.

‘Go!’ She whisper-yelled, knowing he could hear her. To which Edward just gave a silent laugh and waved, before disappearing off into the night. Had they been talking that much that the sun had long since said its goodbyes to the horizon?

#twilight x reader #twilight saga x reader #edward cullen x reader #jacob black x reader #charlie swan

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kunareads · 10 days ago

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mamma mia | dancing queen episode two: strangers and small braveries

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 1.2k a/n: decided that i will not be overthinking these chapters so here we go content: nanami (hot), flirting :D, alcohol use 18+ please <3

the door to the hostel room doesn’t quite close right. you have to yank it hard for the latch to click. even then, you’re not sure it would hold if someone really wanted to get in.

it doesn’t bother you.

your bags land in a corner with a dull little thud. the room is barely bigger than a closet—just a bed, a chipped nightstand, a window that faces a brick wall—but it’s yours for the next few days. no one here knows your name. no one expects anything from you.

you feel like you can breathe.

you slept on the plane just enough that you don’t feel exhausted, just a little disoriented. a little too aware of your own heartbeat. there’s no point unpacking. you grab your purse, lock the door behind you, and step back out into the street.

paris smells like butter and rain. the sidewalks gleam from an earlier drizzle, gutters bright with neon reflections.

you turn a corner and nearly get clipped by a scooter, the driver shouting something you can’t quite catch. you call out an apology even though you’re not sure it’s the right word, then you giggle to yourself—because it feels good to be here, even if you’ve already made an idiot of yourself.

everywhere you look, there’s something to take in: a bakery window fogged with warmth, golden pastries lined up in neat rows. a man in a suit smoking beneath a blue awning, watching you with mild curiosity. a little kiosk crowded with cheap souvenirs.

you buy an enamel pin shaped like the eiffel tower. the vendor says something in careful english, you reply in even more careful french, and you both laugh softly before she hands you your change.

you feel small here, in the best possible way. like the world is too big to ever run out of things to want.

your feet carry you until they start to ache. by the time the sky bruises into twilight and all the shop signs flicker on, you’re approaching a narrow bar with warm light spilling from the windows, the soft tangle of music drifting out into the dark.

the air is cool inside. it’s quieter than you expected—just the low murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the soft undercurrent of some old jazz record. the walls are dark, lined with shelves and little framed photographs.

you choose a stool at the far end, where you can watch everything without feeling watched yourself.

that’s when you notice him.

alone at a corner table, a half-full glass of something amber in front of him and a book held open in one hand. he looks serious, thoughtful in a way that feels almost private. strong, too.

it takes you a while to decide whether he’s the kind of man who’d welcome interruption. maybe he’d be annoyed, maybe he’d pretend not to hear you.

you order a glass of a wine you don’t recognize. it’s red and dry, warming your chest in a way that makes you brave. what’s the worst that could happen?

so you pick up your glass and cross the room.

“is it a good one?” you ask, tilting your chin toward the book.

he looks up, caught off guard. “it’s… dense,” he says after a beat. his voice is warm but a little reserved, like he’s not sure if you’re teasing him.

you pretend to consider that. “dense,” you echo. “sounds perfect for a saturday night alone in paris.”

that gets you the smallest smile. a crack in all that composure.

he closes the book slowly and sets it aside. “i could ask you the same question.”

“what question?”

“why someone like you would be spending their saturday night alone in paris.”

the words catch you a little off balance. your own smile starts to spread. “i’m not alone,” you say, gesturing between you. “i’m talking to you.”

he actually laughs at that. it’s just a soft huff of air, but it feels like something important. you want to hear it again.

when you sit, you catch the faintest hint of pink in his cheeks. he’s flustered, you think, but not enough to send you away. up close, he looks a little younger than you first guessed—late twenties, maybe. clean-shaven. there’s something about his eyes: thoughtful, a little tired, but kind.

introductions come easily. kento, he says, in that clear, careful way that makes you think he’s used to repeating it for strangers.

the conversation starts polite. where you’re from, how long he’s here, what you both think of the city so far. you learn he’s here on business, he learns you graduated yesterday.

he listens to you intently, holding your gaze without flinching, tracing the rim of his glass when he’s thinking.

when you admit you came here alone, that you haven’t planned more than a few days ahead, he doesn’t look surprised. just intrigued.

“you’re braver than most,” he says quietly.

you shrug, your pulse flickering under your skin. “some would say reckless.”

he considers that, then nods once. “maybe both.”

he glances at your glass before you can think of something clever to say, and lifts a hand to get the bartender’s attention.

“can we have the bottle?” he asks.

and by the time you’ve finished it—taking turns pouring, trading thoughts and stories in hushed voices—you feel like you’ve stumbled into a pocket of the night that doesn’t belong to anyone else.

you like his composure, and how he seems a little charmed. you like that he looks a little more undone now—blond hair rumpled, sleeves pushed to his elbows, eyes crinkling when he smiles. you like that he thinks before he speaks, and that he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.

when you finally stand, the room tilts pleasantly around you. he rises too, collecting his book and tucking it under one arm.

he asks if you’d like him to walk you back.

you almost say yes, because it feels easy to trust him. because it feels like the night doesn’t need to end yet.

but you shake your head instead, feeling reckless in the best way.

“i’m fine,” you tell him, smiling. “but… maybe we could meet again tomorrow?”

there’s a beat where you’re afraid he’ll turn you down.

but he just nods with a soft grin. “i’d like that.”

you step forward and press a kiss to his cheek. his skin is warm, and you feel his relieved exhale.

you leave before you can overthink it, the door swinging closed behind you.

outside, the city feels different, like it’s shifted an inch to make room for whatever this is. the air tastes sweeter. your hands feel too empty.

you make the short walk back to the hostel with your heart humming under your ribs, already counting down the hours until tomorrow.

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scarluna · 7 months ago

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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 3 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter ;) Wink wonk.

ACT III.

The office buzzed with energy as the team gathered for an impromptu meeting. At this point, I had gotten used to the sudden meetings with absolutely no head start. Jungkook was not only controlling but impulsive as hell. No one knew what he was thinking, and for some, it was damn scary.

He stood at the head of the long conference table as me, Hoseok and Rya walked in. His expression sharp and focused over the scattered papers on the table. He wore a plain white button up shirt, dark grey jeans and his sleeves as usual were rolled up his sleeves showing off his tattoos. On one of his wrist there was an expensive Graff watch. Damn. Him and his expensiveness.

Next to him was Tina, practically glowing as she leaned just a little too close to him. Ever since I told her my piece of mind, she had been way too careful not to make it obvious because obviously people were whispering and spreading rumors. I guess she hasn't given up and had some hopes that she'd be noticed. As much as I despised her for how she treated me, I was feeling sorry for her at the same time. Her choice of clothing screamed attention too. Well, who was I to judge? I had no right to do that. Maybe someday the luck would be on her side, who knew?

“Listen up,” Jungkook began once everyone had taken their seats, his voice commanding the room. “MNT Media, one of our main competitors, is hosting a masquerade ball next Saturday. It’s more than just a social event—they’re using it as a chance to attract high-profile clients. Our goal is to ensure they don’t take our edge in the market.”

Tina raised her hand with a smug smile. “And how exactly are we supposed to ‘outshine’ them? Is there, like, a plan for that?”

Jungkook barely glanced her way. “Do your job, Tina. That’s the plan.”

The smirk I tried to suppress threatened to break through. Tina’s face faltered, but she quickly covered it with another fake smile, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her slim pointer finger. Gosh, she was such a cheerleader.

The room hummed with murmurs of curiosity.

“What does this mean for us?” Rya asked from her seat, her brows knit together. I took a glance at her. Unlike Tina, Rya was not showing her "admiration" too obviously and besides, she was way too mature and work-oriented to choose a good session of sex with her boss. I admired her for that.

Jungkook gestured to a slide on the projector, outlining a strategic approach. “It means we’ll attend the ball. Every single one of you is expected to be there.We’re not going to outright sabotage, but we will make sure our clients and prospects see us as the better option. Keep it subtle—this isn’t a smear campaign. It’s about relationships and presence.”And yes,” Jungkook added, his gaze cutting through the room like a knife, “graphic designers too.” His voice held a sharp edge of authority, daring anyone to challenge him.

I blinked, caught off guard by the specificity of his statement. “Graphic designers too? I thought only management should be present there,” I murmured, trying to keep my tone casual. I had never been to a ball. A masquerade ball for that matter.

He turned his head sharply to me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You think your job is just fonts and colors, don’t you?”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as his eyes pinned me down, but I refused to back down. “Not exactly, but—”

“But nothing,” he interrupted smoothly, leaning against the table, his tattoos flexing as his forearms rested on the edge. “Visuals sell. A well-designed presentation, a strategically placed logo, or even the subtleties in our event materials can make or break a client’s first impression. We need all hands on deck for this. Even,” he paused, locking eyes with me, “the ones who think they’re just here to doodle.”

The room shifted uncomfortably, a few stifled chuckles breaking the tension. I narrowed my eyes, but there was no mistaking the magnetic pull in the air between us. I hated how his cockiness somehow made my pulse race.

Hoseok, sensing the awkwardness, cleared his throat. “So... we’re all just attending or actively involved?”

“Actively,” Jungkook replied without missing a beat, his attention still on me. “You’ll each have tasks to ensure our brand presence is felt. It’s an opportunity to network, observe, and make sure MNT Media knows we’re not going anywhere.”

Just as I thought he might say something else to push me over the edge, he sighed dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Where the hell is Yoongi?” He raked a hand through his dark hair, his tone shifting to one of pure annoyance. “That idiot is late again.”

The room immediately relaxed but remained silent as everyone looked at each other. It was odd, since we were all caught up in that ball that we didn't notice Yoongi missing. Jungkook might have been a force to be reckoned with, but his annoyance with Yoongi being careless and late was an ongoing office joke.

“Probably got distracted by his latest overpriced gadget,” Hoseok quipped, earning a round of muffled laughs.

Jungkook let out a low groan, shaking his head like he was carrying the weight of the world—and Yoongi’s constant stumbles at work—on his shoulders. “If he weren’t my best friend, I’d have fired him five times by now.”

The mention of Yoongi and the Boss brought a flicker of thought to my mind, one that I quickly buried. But it lingered, uninvited. The rumors about Yoongi being more than just another employee—they never truly left me. Supposedly, he was the son of a conglomerate empire, someone who didn’t have to work here but chose to for reasons no one could quite figure out.

Me? I wasn’t deluded enough to think it was because of me, even though the timing was uncanny. Yoongi had started here just a few days after I did, but the whispers always suggested something else. His arrival was tied to some long-forgotten scandal, one no one had the full details on, and I had long given up trying to separate fact from fiction.

Still, the idea that Yoongi might be playing a role that went far deeper than just my “supervisor” always made me a little uneasy. Not that he ever actually supervised me. His attitude made sure of that.

“Yoongi always shows up just in time to avoid the worst of your wrath.” Tina spoke out in a sweet voice. I almost gagged.

“Lucky for him,” Jungkook muttered, leaning against the table with a long, deep sigh.

His broad shoulders slumped slightly, a rare crack in his polished, sharp-edged demeanor. For a moment, he looked... defeated. Vulnerable. It was enough to stir something deep in my chest, something I wasn’t ready to admit aloud.

But the moment passed quickly. Jungkook straightened, his sharp gaze slicing through the room once again, as if daring Yoongi to make him wait a second longer.

As the meeting finally wrapped up, my mind drifted to a new problem. A masquerade ball meant dressing up. And dressing up meant facing my wardrobe—or lack of one. How was I supposed to show up when all I owned were dark jeans, oversized t-shirts, some cardigans and that was it. Most of my clothes were black too.

After everyone returned to their desks, I cornered Rya and Hoseok by the water cooler.

“So,” I began hesitantly, “about this masquerade ball…”

Rya instantly perked up, her excitement palpable. “Isn’t it exciting? An actual masquerade ball! It’s like something out of a movie!”

“Yeah, except I have nothing to wear,” I admitted, biting my lip. “I don’t even know where to start. The last time I dressed up for anything was... well, never.”

Hoseok grinned, his easy charm shining through. “Relax, Y/N. It’s not about having the most expensive dress. It’s about confidence.”

Rya nodded enthusiastically. “I can help you find something to wear. There are plenty of places to rent gowns, and I bet you’ll look amazing once we get you sorted.”

Their support made my chest feel lighter, though a small part of me still hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass myself. Or you.”

“Y/N,” Hoseok said firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. He was taller than Rya and me, and if we didn't know him, we'd be intimidated as hell. He definitely had this cool aura and a resting bitch face people felt threatened by. He was smiling tho, like a sun that shined brightly. “You’re not embarrassing anyone. Especially not us. You’re going to show up, have fun, and remind people why you’re a badass.”

I managed a small smile. “Thanks, guys. I mean it.”

As we headed back to our desks, Tina’s shrill laughter cut through the air. She was perched on the edge of Jungkook’s desk, her hand resting just a little too close to his arm.

“Are you sure you don’t need a date for the ball?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.

I couldn’t resist the temptation to make a snarky comment. “Careful, Tina. You’re about one giggle away from falling off his desk.”

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing. “Stay out of it, Y/N. Didn't know fat people had opinions?”

“On the contrary,” I said, folding my arms as I leaned against my chair. “Watching you attempt to flirt is everyone’s business. But it's kinda amusing how pathetic you look. Keep it up, I will be rooting for you.” I gave her a bitter smile as she stared at me with a deep scowl on her face.

I noticed Jungkook’s lips twitch, but he quickly schooled his expression. “Enough, both of you. You are at a corporate setting.” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Oh, come on, Boss” I teased, unable to resist. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this little performance.”

His eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. “You should focus on your own preparations, Y/N,” he said smoothly. “Wouldn’t want you to show up unprepared.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I shot back, ignoring the slight tremor in my voice. “I’ll be ready. The real question is whether you’ll survive Tina’s advances without filing a harassment complaint.”

I heard Rya and Hoseok chuckle by my side.

Jungkook shot a glare at both of my co-workers and they immediately got silent. I narrowed my eyes, arms crossed against my chest. "Y/N, if I hear one more word coming out of your mouth, I will expect your resignation letter on my desk." he spoke coldly at me. By his expression I could see that he was done with my feistiness. Oh, but I wasn't done. "If you think silencing me will solve the problem, you're underestimating me." I mumbled lowly as I stared at his eyes. He did the same and somehow I felt a tension raise in the air. Before I could continue, Rya tugged my arm toward the office, making our conversation to come to an end. Tina was staring at me in full blown surprise that I was talking to Jungkook like that. "Why don't you fire her?" I heard her ask. And then no answer from my Boss.

As I turned back to my desk, I couldn’t shake the way Jungkook’s eyes lingered on me, or the strange twist in my stomach that followed. This masquerade ball was shaping up to be more complicated than I’d anticipated.

"Girl," Rya whispered, "you are getting bolder and bolder. I fucking love that." she managed to whisper in my ear and that comment alone made me and Hoseok giggle.

The cafeteria was bustling with its usual noise—people chatting over their lunches, trays clattering as they moved through the line. The smell of fresh coffee mixed with the faint scent of freshly baked goods hit my nostrils, yet the familiar knot in my stomach twisting made all the apetite I had disappear. This time, it wasn’t because of my body or my insecurities. It was the looming threat of the masquerade ball.

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but the thought of being surrounded by coworkers in an extravagant setting, feeling out of place in a sea of confident, stylish people... well, it didn’t sit well with me.

I sat with Hoseok, Rya, and a few others, trying to keep the conversation light. It was hard to focus on anything when I could already feel the weight of the ball hanging over me. I was always an anxious person and it took me months to get used to the pace of my work, despite the bullying.

“So, Hoseok,” Regina, one of the other graphic designers, piped up from across the table. She flipped her perfectly styled red hair over her shoulder, a flirty grin spreading across her face. “I was thinking… maybe you could be my date for the masquerade? You know, just the two of us. We’d make a great pair, don’t you think?”

My eyes flicked to Hoseok, and I saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He hesitated for a split second before speaking.

“I... I actually promised Rya I’d go with her,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, I noticed.

Regina’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, pretending to be completely unfazed. “Oh, really? Well, I guess that’s fine. Rya’s a great choice too.” She gave Rya a bright, fake smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Rya smiled back, but her expression was a bit surprised. “Oh, um, sure, yeah. Thanks for thinking of me, Hoseok.” She looked at him, and for a moment, there was a flicker of confusion in her eyes, but she said nothing more.

Regina’s attention had already moved on, her focus turning elsewhere, but I couldn’t help but notice how Hoseok’s gaze lingered on Rya for a second longer than usual. I wondered if there was something more there—something unspoken.

But before I could process the thought, my mind wandered again. It had only been a few days since I’d overheard that conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, and I couldn’t shake the way Jungkook’s words had echoed in my mind. The teasing. The lingering tension.

I pulled my thoughts back to the conversation at hand, though I could barely focus.

Regina, in her usual confident manner, turned to the group with a loud dramatic sigh as she took a sip from her pepsi cola.

“You know,” she began, her voice dripping with fake innocence, “it’s just so tragic when some people can’t even hope for a date. Like, what do you even do in that situation? Just... stay home and stuff yourself with food?”

Her gaze landed on me, lingering just long enough to make her target obvious. My chest tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Not everyone’s obsessed with finding a date,” I shot back, forcing a calm tone I didn’t entirely feel. I mean, I lied, I was obsessed to find a date and also obsessed in looking good enough so people would take me seriously and not embarrass the company I worked for. Wasn't I pathetic too? Regina didn't have to know that.

Regina’s eyes widened in mock surprise, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh, of course! Why would you worry about that, right? It’s not like anyone’s lining up to take you out. I mean,” she added, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “you’d probably have better luck on one of those makeover shows first. You know, before they film the big reveal.”

Her words hit like a slap, sharp and humiliating, but I refused to let her see it.

“You done?” I asked, standing abruptly. My chair scraped against the floor with an echoing screech, silencing the room for a moment.

Regina blinked at me, her smile faltering for a split second before returning even sharper. “Oh, sure, sure. Don’t let me keep you from... whatever it is you do.”

I walked away before she could twist the knife any further, my head held high despite the storm raging inside me.

My stomach churned at the underlying judgment. Of course, Regina thought I wasn’t worthy of a "real" date. She probably thought someone like me didn’t belong in that kind of environment to begin with.

Everyone seemed to have someone to go with. Hoseok had Rya. Regina had probably already found someone else from the other teams. And me? I’d be the one standing alone, a face in the crowd with no one to share the night with.

I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to go to the ball at all. What would I even wear? How could I stand in a sea of perfectly put-together people when I didn’t even feel like I belonged in the same room as them?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. It was a text from Rya:

“Hey, don’t worry about anything. We’re going together. I’ll help you with the outfit too!”

Her message brought a small smile to my face, but the unease still lingered. I typed a quick response as I was walking down the empty long hallway of the offices.

“Thanks, Rya. I just… don’t know if I should go. I feel like I’ll be the odd one out.”

Her reply came almost immediately:

“Don’t even think that way! You’re going to have a blast, I promise. And we’re all going to be together, so who cares what anyone else thinks?”

I stared at the message, the reassurance in her words offering some comfort, but I still wasn’t convinced.

Still, I couldn’t let my fears stop me. I had to at least try. I wouldn’t let them see how insecure I was.

Lost in thought as I walked down the hallway, I didn’t notice someone coming around the corner until we collided. A sharp thud was followed by a cascade of papers and folders scattering to the ground. I stumbled back, startled, as the other person muttered a low curse.

“Watch where you’re going,” came a smooth, slightly annoyed voice.

Looking up, I realized it was Min Yoongi, arms now empty as he surveyed the mess with a raised eyebrow. He crouched down to gather the papers, his expression unreadable but somehow laced with that signature playful smugness he was known for. I noticed his brown locks of hair were a mess, it was almost as if he had just gotten up and rushed here. Well, probably after a call by Jungkook he had to rush here. He was late after all.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, immediately dropping to my knees to help collect the documents.

“You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he remarked casually, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as he snatched up a folder near my hand. “Big plans? Or is brooding your thing now?”

I pressed my lips together, biting back a retort. His tone was teasing, but I couldn’t shake the lingering sting from Regina’s earlier comments.

“Just distracted,” I replied shortly, stacking the papers I’d gathered into a neat pile.

Yoongi’s lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Right. Distracted. Let me guess—you’re working on your master plan to snag a date for the ball? I am guessing you don't have one.” He leaned back on his heels, still crouched, and fixed me with a playful, knowing look.

I froze, his words cutting deeper than I expected, though his tone remained light.

When I didn’t respond, he tilted his head. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not going. Everyone’s talking about it. Even Tina’s got her claws in Jungkook.” His gaze flicked over me, his smirk sharpening. “Or is it that no one’s brave enough to take you?”

The heat rushed to my face, but I forced myself to look him in the eye. “Not everyone’s obsessed with finding a date, Yoongi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“True,” he replied with a shrug, standing up and brushing off his hands. “But it’s a shame, you know? All dressed up, standing by yourself in the corner. It’s a picture-perfect Cinderella moment, minus the Prince Charming.”

I glared up at him, my hands gripping the stack of papers a little too tightly. “Thanks for the advice,” I said flatly, shoving the papers into his chest as I stood up and headed down the hall without waiting for him to say anything else.

The hum of the office felt louder than usual as I sat at my desk, trying to get through the endless list of tasks I had to finish before the end of the day. The masquerade ball loomed over me, but today, something about the atmosphere felt different. Maybe it was because I couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Rya and Hoseok in my head. Maybe it was because deep down, I still wasn’t sure I belonged in that world? But in that moment, the phone in my hand buzzed, pulling me out of my spiral.

I glanced at the screen: Tae <3

I smiled to myself, swiping on the screen and gluing the phone to my ear. "Hey, Tae," I greeted, my voice a little lighter than it had been all day. Hearing his voice always made all the tiredness, worry and anxiety disappear.

"Hey, Y/N! I was just thinking about you," Taehyung’s warm, melodic voice greeted me through the phone. It was a comfort, like a hug I couldn’t see. "How are you doing?"

"Surviving, as always. Work’s a nightmare right now, and now there’s this whole masquerade ball thing. Honestly, I’m kind of dreading it."

He chuckled softly on the other end. "Yeah, I heard. It’s all anyone’s talking about. Are you going?"

I hesitated, fiddling with a pen on my desk. "Yeah. But I’m not exactly excited about it. Everyone’s got their dates… I don’t know, it feels like I’ll just end up standing awkwardly in the corner all night."

"Y/N," Taehyung said, his voice warm and reassuring, "you could show up wearing a potato sack, and you’d still outshine everyone. Don’t let those kinds of thoughts ruin it for you."

I smiled, the genuine kindness in his words making me feel lighter. "Thanks, Tae. You’re always so good at making me feel better."

There was a pause, and then his tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Actually, that’s kind of why I called. I was wondering if… well, if you’d want to go with me to the ball. As my date."

His words made my heart skip a beat, and I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. "You’re serious?"

"Of course I am," he said, laughing softly. "I think it could be fun. We’d stick together, and I’ll make sure you have a great time. No pressure, though."

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over my desk, and I looked up to see Jungkook standing there. His arms were crossed, and his expression was calm—too calm.

"Work call?" he asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I replied, keeping my tone even, though I could feel the tension radiating off him. "It’s personal."

"You’re busy, then," he said, his voice almost teasing but carrying a hint of something sharper. "Too bad—I was going to tell you there’s something urgent you need to handle. Guess it can wait."

I narrowed my eyes at him, my grip on the phone tightening. "If it’s so urgent, why don’t you handle it?"

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, but before he could respond, Taehyung’s voice came through the phone, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. "Y/N? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it’s fine," I said quickly, brushing off Jungkook’s attempt to derail the conversation. "Sorry about that. So, you were saying…?"

"I was asking if you’d go to the ball with me," Taehyung said again, his voice warm but clearer now.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening as he took in Taehyung’s words. His gaze darted to my phone, then back to me, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"That sounds great, Tae," I said, my voice bright despite the tension. "I’d love to go with you."

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate—his shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darkened, though he forced a sharp, insincere smile. "Perfect," he said, his tone icy. "I’m sure you and your friend will have a great time."

Before I could respond, he turned on his heel and stormed off, his steps echoing down the hallway.

"Y/N?" Taehyung’s voice broke through the silence, pulling my attention back to the phone. "Are you sure everything’s okay?"

"Yeah," I said, though my heart was racing. "It’s nothing. I'll talk to you later."

As I ended the call, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jungkook’s reaction lingering in the air, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. I was weirded out from the way he acted. Why was he so stingy for?

It was Friday afternoon, a two days after our meeting about that ball was held and the tension in the office seemed to be building, as if everyone was bracing themselves for the masquerade ball that was looming just days away. It was all anyone could talk about. Some of my coworkers were still obsessing over their outfits, while others were already talking about their plans.

I was organizing some documents at my desk, trying to stay focused despite the whirlwind of thoughts running through my mind about the masquerade ball. The idea of going felt daunting, especially when it seemed like everyone already had their perfect plans sorted out.

"Y/N," a low, familiar voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Yoongi leaning casually against the edge of my desk, his signature smirk playing on his lips. I frowned. He did not approach me unless it was work related. I wondered what was it this time.

"Hey," I said, surprised yet skeptical of his approach. "What’s up?"

He shrugged, glancing down at the papers I was shuffling. "Not much. Just… figured I’d check in."

I arched an eyebrow. "Check in? What for?"

Yoongi’s smirk grew, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation? Nerves? It was so subtle I almost missed it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his tone suddenly more casual. "You know, about the ball—"

"Y/N!" Rya’s voice rang out, cutting through Yoongi’s words like a sharp knife. I turned to see her bounding toward us, her excitement practically radiating off her.

Yoongi straightened, his smirk fading slightly as he stepped back, giving Rya room to invade the space.

"Hey, Rya," I said, trying not to sound annoyed at the interruption.

"I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Rya said, ignoring Yoongi entirely. "So, I had this amazing idea! We should totally go dress shopping together for the ball tomorrow. I know this great place, and we can make a whole day of it and then me, Hoseok and you can go out clubbing after? I am in a mood for some drinks!" Clubbing? Oh god. It has been what- years since I went there? Too much people, loud music and bodies bodies pressing against each other.

I glanced at Yoongi, who was watching the interaction with a blank expression, though his eyes betrayed his irritation.

"That sounds fun," I said, offering Rya a small smile. "I will think about the clubbing part tho."

Rya grinned, nodding her head, yet she finally noticed Yoongi standing there. "Oh, hey. Didn’t see you. What are you doing here?"

"Just talking to Y/N," he said, his tone clipped. "But I’ll let you two get back to your plans."

With that, he turned and walked away, his usual calm demeanor masking whatever frustration he might have felt.

I watched him leave, a strange pang of guilt tugging at me. Had he been about to ask something important?

"Isn’t it great?" Rya said, pulling me back into the moment. "We’ll find the perfect dress for you. You’re going to look amazing."

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile, though my mind was still on Yoongi and the words he hadn’t gotten a chance to say.

The soft hum of the mall's ambient music barely registered as Rya and I made our way through the racks of dresses. The neon lights overhead cast a warm glow over everything, but my mind was far from the sparkly fabrics hanging in front of me. We’d been at it for what felt like hours, and I was still having trouble settling on anything that felt like me. The ball was a week away and I was a ball of anxiety.

"How about this one?" Rya asked, holding up a shimmering emerald green dress, the fabric catching the light. She seemed determined to find something that would make me stand out—something that would make me feel like I belonged.

I shook my head, glancing over the dress with a hesitant frown. "It’s pretty, but I don't know... I think it’s a bit too much." I sighed, tugging at my sleeve. "I'm just not sure I want to be noticed that much, you know?"

Rya raised an eyebrow, her fingers still gripping the hanger. "You're seriously telling me you're going to let some people in the office make you feel like you don't deserve to be seen?" She shook her head, pushing the dress aside. "No way. You deserve to wear something that makes you feel confident, strong and sexy."

I smiled weakly, appreciating her effort to boost me, but inside, I felt like I was just pretending. None of it mattered when the people at work—especially Jungkook and Yoongi—were still constantly tearing me down.

As I stared at the dresses in the store, Rya’s voice cut through the silence, a casual comment that made my head snap up.

“You know, I have noticed that the Boss and Yoongi act weird lately,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something else—curiosity?

I turned to face her, my brow furrowing in confusion. "Weird? What do you mean?"

Rya set down a dress she had been holding, turning toward me with a knowing look. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen the way they’ve been acting around you. They’ve both tried to approach you, Y/N, and it seemed like they were going to invite you to the ball.”

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What? Yoongi and Jungkook? Invite me?" I laughed, the sound more disbelieving than amused. "That’s ridiculous. Why would they even do that?"

Rya’s expression didn’t falter, but there was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “I don’t know, but it’s not like them. They’ve never been this... friendly with you before. And it’s not just me—other people have noticed it too. It’s like they’re genuinely interested in you.”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. The thought of Yoongi and Jungkook—two people who had made a habit of mocking me—suddenly being “interested” in me was too much to process.

“No, Rya. I don’t buy it,” I said, shaking my head. "They’ve always treated me like crap. They’ve made fun of me for months, and now suddenly they want to take me to the ball? No way."

Rya didn’t seem convinced. “But why would they bother trying to invite you if they didn’t care at all? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe they’re actually—"

I cut her off, frustration creeping into my voice. "Rya, this isn’t about attraction. It’s probably some stupid game to them, a way to mess with me. They’re probably seeing who can get the ‘fat girl’ first and have a good laugh at my expense."

Rya looked at me seriously, like she wanted to argue, but she seemed to understand that I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. "I get it. I just wanted to point out that something feels different this time."

I let out a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, if it is different, I don’t want to be part of it. They’ve always been cruel. That’s not going to change just because they want a date for the ball."

Rya sighed, clearly frustrated but still patient. “I understand, Y/N. I just want you to know that you’re worth more than their games, okay?” She gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m here for you. And this dress? It’s perfect for you.”

I took the dress she offered me, holding it against my body as I studied myself in the mirror.The royal blue dress shimmered softly under the light, its rich color catching my eye right away. The off-shoulder neckline framed my shoulders perfectly, while the fabric crossed gently over the bodice, and I knew that it was going to hug the shape of my body in just the right way. The sleeves were long and smooth, giving it an elegant feel, and the skirt flowed down from the waist, simple but beautiful as it brushed the floor. The material was soft and comfortable in my hands, with just enough weight to feel secure but not heavy. As I turned, the dress moved with me, flowing naturally and making me feel like I could wear it anywhere and still feel amazing. It wasn’t just a dress—it felt like it belonged to me.

Rya leaned against the doorframe, watching as I studied myself in the mirror. Her knowing smile made me feel both self-conscious and reassured. “You'd look incredible wearing it,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the haze of doubt clouding my mind. “You’d turn every head at the ball in that.”

I placed the dress down gently, avoiding her gaze. “I am not used to all the attention...”

She straightened, folding her arms as her tone shifted into something more persuasive. “Y/N, when are you going to stop letting their crap define what you do? You’ve always been better than that, and now? You’ve got the chance to show it.”

I sighed, running my hand over the fabric of the dress again. “It’s not that easy, Rya.”

“What is?” she shot back. “Look, if the ball feels too messy, fine. But tonight? Come out with me and Hoseok. No pressure, no expectations. Just a night to breathe, dance, and remind yourself that you’re allowed to take up space without caring what anyone else thinks.”

I hesitated, biting my lip as I looked at her. “I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for clubbing.”

She tilted her head, her smile turning sly. “Oh, please. We both know you need this. Hoseok’s got the energy of ten people, and he already said he’d buy the first round. Plus,” she added, leaning in conspiratorially, “you know you’ve been dying to see what he’s like on the dance floor.” Hoseok had mentioned that before he became a Social Media Specialist, he was owning a dance studio downtown and he was the best of them all. However, he had to shut the studio down due to lack of money. Which was unfortunate. Everyone deserved to follow their dreams.

I laughed despite myself. “Fine, maybe that’s true. But I don’t even know what I’d wear.”

Rya’s eyes lit up, sensing victory. “I’ll help you pick something out. Something killer. And trust me, when you’re out there, laughing with us, and feeling like the badass you are, you’ll be glad you said yes.”

I let out a long breath, shaking my head. “Okay, okay. I’ll come. But if Hoseok tries to drag me into one of his ridiculous dance battles, I’m blaming you.”

Her grin widened as she clapped her hands together. “Deal. Now after we chose a dress for you, let’s get you ready to turn some heads for tonight.”

The evening had settled in, and it was finally Saturday night—an evening I had been both anticipating and dreading. A few hours ago, Rya and I had spent what felt like an eternity picking out dresses. After much back-and-forth, I had found the perfect one: the royal blue dress that fit me like a glove. It shimmered softly under the light and made me feel like I was someone else—someone confident and powerful. It was a far cry from the usual clothes I’d wear, but something about it felt right and elegant.

I’d also grabbed a few other things for tonight—something a bit more casual for the club, but still fitting the vibe. Rya had promised me a good time, and I figured I might as well go with it. I hadn’t really done anything fun for myself in a long time, and the club seemed like the perfect way to break out of the monotony.

Sitting in my apartment now, I relaxed into the couch with Hades curled up beside me. I had a few hours before Rya and Hoseok would pick me up—around eleven—but the anticipation of what the night might bring was already starting to settle in my stomach. The drinks were free, the entrance was covered until midnight, and they were headed to one of the most famous clubs called "Devil's Dreads", known for its great music and even better drinks. Hoseok had practically been vibrating with excitement as soon as he heard that I was coming clubbing with him and Rya tonight, and it was hard not to get caught up in his energy.

I was just about to reach for my phone when it buzzed on the coffee table. The caller ID showed “Mom & Dad” and I smiled despite myself. I hadn’t spoken to them in a few days, and I figured it was the right time to check in.

“Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad!” I answered, sitting up and adjusting my position on the couch. Hades stirred but didn’t get up, just snuggling closer to my side.

“Y/N, my love! How are you?” my mom’s familiar voice came through the phone, warm and comforting. “You’ve been so busy lately. Have you been eating enough?”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry. Just work, you know? It’s been a little hectic.”

“You always say that,” my dad’s voice chimed in, his deep tone carrying an affectionate teasing. “Tell us something fun. What’s been going on with you?”

I smiled, glancing around my small apartment. “Well, actually, there’s a company masquerade a week from now. It’s for work. We’ve been working on a big project, and uh Taehyung called me and invited me to be his date since he is going as well.”

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, followed by the sound of my mom speaking quietly with my dad in their native language.

My dad’s voice came as an answer a few moments later, a little more serious now. “Y/N, we’ve known Taehyung since you were little. He’s a good man. And we’ve seen how much he cares for you.”

The weight of his words hit me unexpectedly. “I—Dad, I don’t think…” I trailed off, not knowing how to respond. I had never thought about Taehyung in that way. He was just my friend, someone who had been there for me when no one else was.

My mom’s voice softened, a tone I knew well from years of gentle guidance. “Sweetheart, sometimes the person who cares for you most is the one who’s been there for you all along. Not the ones who just chase after you when you look good in a dress.”

I let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the couch, unsure how to take their words. “Mom, I don’t know. I’m not ready for that kind of thing, especially not with Taehyung. We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to mess that up.”

There was a moment of silence, and I could almost picture my mom’s thoughtful expression. “We’re not trying to push you, darling. We just want you to be happy. But don’t close yourself off to the possibility just because you’re scared of what might happen.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat. “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly. “But for now, I’m just focused on work.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” my dad said, his voice reassuring as always. “Just remember to enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

“I’ll talk to you both soon, okay?”

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” my mom said. “And have fun at the ball. We’ll be waiting to hear all about it!”

“I love you guys, bye.” I said, hanging up the phone, feeling a mix of warmth and confusion. The conversation had been more than I expected, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had said.

As I sat there in the quiet of my apartment, Hades curled up beside me once again, I found myself lost in thought. Taehyung? Could he really have feelings for me? I’d always seen him as a friend, but my parents seemed so sure. It felt like the idea came out of nowhere, and yet... maybe there was something to it.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I didn’t know if I was ready to confront that possibility, but for tonight, I had a night out with Rya and Hoseok to look forward to. Maybe I just needed to focus on that for now—enjoy myself, let loose, and stop overthinking everything.

Rya and Hoseok were picking me up in just a few hours. The drinks were free, the club was waiting, and I wasn’t going to let any of my doubts ruin the night. For once, I was going to let go and enjoy the ride.

It had been ages since I’d stepped foot into a club. The pulsating bass, the kaleidoscope of lights, the hum of people enjoying the night—it all felt foreign yet oddly thrilling. Devil’s Dreads was a sight to behold, unlike any club I’d ever been to. The VIP section on the second floor, where we were seated, offered the perfect balance of exclusivity and immersion. From here, we had a clear view of the stage bathed in fiery orange and violet hues, with sleek, futuristic lighting patterns that pulsed in time with the music. The plush, deep purple couches I sank into were ridiculously comfortable, making it feel less like a club and more like some hidden lounge in a sci-fi movie.

Looking down at the main floor, I could see the crowd moving like waves to the hypnotic beats. But up here, it was quiet enough to hold a conversation without shouting, which was a luxury I didn’t know I needed until now.

Rya was the first to order. She went all out with something bold—a sparkling martini topped with edible glitter. It matched her red short dress perfectly, shimmering under the soft light like it was made just for her. I laughed when she held it up for a dramatic toast, the red matching sequins of her dress making her look like she belonged on the stage herself. Her dirty blonde hair was curled just perfectly, lifted in a messy bun style — Pamela Anderson. And her make up did not disappoint, dark, smoky and sexy, fitting her dark blue eyes perfectly.

Hoseok, being Hoseok, opted for a vodka on ice and an old-fashioned style of outfit. It was simple, strong, and sophisticated, just like him. His black button-down shirt with those subtle gold accents caught the light in just the right way, making him look like he belonged in a magazine ad for luxury watches or cologne. He wore black ripped jeans and his hair was messily styled. He looked like an model.

And then there was me. I scanned the menu nervously, feeling the weight of their expectations. It had been so long since I’d ordered a drink at a club, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. My eyes landed on something fruity and innocent-sounding—a cocktail called Strawberry Dream. The description promised a blend of strawberries, peach, and a “whisper” of vodka. Perfect. I didn’t want to get hammered on the first drink.

But, boy, was it deceiving. Rya had managed to pick the perfect dress for me. Firstly, I never wore something so short, and secondly, I almost never was opting for dresses. Jeans were more comfortable for me, but in this case, I loved how this dress fitted me.

I felt bold and my dress definitely matched the vibe. The black mini-dress I chose hugged my curves perfectly, the structured bodice giving it a corset-like edge that made me feel powerful. The neckline was the real star, though—crisscross straps framing my shoulders and collarbones in a way that was sultry but still sophisticated. The long sleeves balanced the look, keeping it sleek and elegant, while the fabric clung just right, making me feel like the main character.

I paired it with gold hoop earrings for a touch of glam, a natural make up made by myself and my hair was curled in beautiful long curls that framed my features, which gave me this effortless, confident vibe. As I glanced at myself in the reflection of my drink, I couldn’t help but smile—I looked like I belonged in a place like this.

We didn’t waste much time lounging. Once our drinks arrived, the music pulled us in. Rya was already dragging me up to dance, and Hoseok followed close behind. It felt freeing to let go for a while, to sway to the music and laugh until my sides hurt. I sipped my cocktail in between songs, the sweetness of the drink making it go down far too easily. Before I knew it, I was on my third glass, and the room was beginning to tilt—not in a bad way, but in that warm, buzzy, I’m-gonna-regret-this-tomorrow way. -

The music was pounding through my body, the bass so heavy it felt like it was syncing with my heartbeat. Hoseok and Rya were right there with me, the three of us lost in the rhythm, moving to the beat like we didn’t have a care in the world. The alcohol buzzing through me made everything feel lighter, almost dreamlike. The edges of the room seemed to blur as I twirled under the neon lights, laughing at something Hoseok said, though I couldn’t hear a word over the music.

That’s when I felt it—a hand on my waist, warm and unfamiliar.

I turned, a little dazed, to find a man I didn’t recognize standing close. Too close. His smile was charming enough, but the way his hand lingered made my stomach twist uncomfortably. Still, the cocktails had softened my edges, and my better judgment was slow to catch up. He leaned in, his lips moving as he said something I couldn’t hear over the music. Before I knew it, I was swaying with him, letting him guide my movements.

It was harmless, right? Just a little dancing. At least, that’s what my tipsy brain told me as I let myself follow his lead. But then his hand moved lower, settling on my hip, and a quiet alarm bell rang in the back of my mind. I froze for a second, unsure what to do, but before I could even process the situation, Rya and Hoseok were already on it.

“Hey!” Rya’s voice was sharp, cutting through the music like a knife. She stepped forward, placing herself squarely between me and the guy. Her sequin-covered arm reached out, pushing his hand away from me with more force than I expected.

Hoseok wasn’t far behind, his easygoing smile replaced with something steely and firm. “She’s with us,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made it clear he wasn’t asking. “Back off.”

The man raised his hands in mock surrender, a lazy smirk on his face. “Alright, alright,” he said, backing up, but his eyes lingered on me for a second too long before he disappeared into the crowd.

I blinked, feeling the haze of alcohol and adrenaline mix into a confusing swirl. “What just happened?” I muttered, my words slurring slightly.

Rya looped an arm around my shoulders, her expression softening as she guided me back toward our booth. “You were letting some random creep get a little too close,” she said gently but firmly.

“Yeah,” Hoseok added, his tone lighter now that the guy was gone. “You’re lucky you have us to keep an eye on you.”

I let out a weak laugh, grateful but also embarrassed. “I didn’t even realize…”

“It’s the cocktails,” Rya said knowingly, giving me a reassuring smile. “That’s why we’re here, though. To make sure you’re good.”

As we made our way back to the VIP booth, I could still feel the ghost of the guy’s hand on my waist, but it was fading now, replaced by a warm sense of gratitude. Rya and Hoseok weren’t just my friends—they were my safety net. And right now, I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

I leaned back against the balcony railing, catching my breath, when the familiar face in the crowd below stopped me cold. At first, I thought it was just my tipsy brain playing tricks on me. But no. It was him.

Yoongi.

My stomach did a weird flip as I watched him stride through the main entrance like he owned the place. His tailored black blazer and crisp shirt beneath screamed confidence, and his sharp gaze scanned the crowd with ease.

His eyes landed on me—on us—and widened slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or amusement that crossed his face first, but by the time he started walking toward our booth, his signature smirk had taken over.

“What brings you all here?” he asked casually as he reached us, his voice low enough to compete with the music but still clear. He looked between the three of us, his expression unreadable.

Hoseok, ever the social butterfly, clapped him on the shoulder. “What, are we not allowed to hang out at the best place in town?”

Yoongi raised a brow, clearly entertained. “You have good taste. But from the looks of it…” He motioned toward the now-empty cocktail glasses on our table. “...you’re drinking like tourists.”

I flushed under his gaze. “Excuse me,” I said, my words slightly slurred, “but I’ll have you know this drink was amazing.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched, and he leaned in just enough to make my breath hitch. “Amazing, huh? You might want to pace yourself. Those are just the appetizers.”

It was then that it hit me. The way he carried himself, the way the staff seemed to acknowledge him without a word, the way he spoke like he owned the place…

“Wait,” I blurted out, blinking through the haze of tipsiness. “Do you… own this place?”

The smirk deepened, and he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Figured it out, did you?” He looked entirely too smug. “Welcome to Devil’s Dreads. My little slice of chaos.”

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kangshxrtie · 1 month ago

Text

51 . too much spinny (written)

it was around 3 p.m. when daniela pulled up in front of your house, sunglasses on and music playing softly through the car speakers. luckily, she’d told you where you were going this time, so you actually had the chance to dress for it.

she found parking in a lot just a short walk from the fairgrounds, paid for it quickly, and the two of you strolled toward the entrance. the air smelled like sugar and fried everything.

at the ticket booth, daniela handed the worker her card before you could even reach for your wallet. she turned to you with a smug little smile. “entrance fee and wristbands are on me. actually, everything’s on me. you’re not allowed to argue.” “so this is a real date then?” you raised an eyebrow, amused. “obviously. i’m even gonna win you a stuffed animal,” she said, bumping your shoulder as you walked through the gates together. “oh? are you that confident in your carnival game skills?” you laughed.

“yeah. wait ‘til you see me at the ring toss.”

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you both wandered through the fair, pointing out rides and checking out the booths. there was a buzzing kind of energy in the air—families, groups of friends, bright lights flickering in the daylight.

“you wanna eat first or hit the rides?” daniela asked.

“can we eat something light? i haven’t had anything today.”

“corndogs it is,” she grinned.

you grabbed food from the nearest stand and walked as you ate, eventually stumbling upon a funhouse. half of it looked out of order, but that somehow made it more entertaining. you ducked through spinning tunnels and crooked mirrors, laughing the whole time.

as you exited, daniela turned to you. “okay, important question. are you the type to ride everything or hold everybody’s bags?”

“i’m like… fifty-fifty,” you shrugged. “depends on the ride.”

“how do you feel about the pirate ship for our first ride?” she smirked. “i’m down for whatever you wanna do.”

“oh, big mistake,” daniela said immediately, making a beeline toward the ride. “i already have regrets,” you muttered, trailing after her. “you’ll be fine. i won’t make you ride anything too wild.” “i hope you know i know how to say no.”

“mhm, we’ll see about that.”

the line was long, expected on a saturday afternoon, but the wait didn’t feel too bad with the way you two kept falling into random conversation.

“okay, so,” daniela said, narrowing her eyes as you got closer, “after observing… i don’t think the bar in the back goes down all the way, and those kids looked like they were about to fly out. i vote we sit one row before the back.”

“sounds good, dani.” you snorted.

“just trying to keep us alive.”

once you reached the front, you had your wristbands scanned and lucked out with early boarding, which meant you actually got to choose your seats. you settled into the second-to-last row and pulled the bar down.

“yeah… we’re cooked,” you said, tugging at it when it clicked into place, way too far from your lap to be comforting.

“just hold on when we’re up there,” daniela said.

“trust. i will be.” you already had a death grip on the bar.

the operator went down the line, double-checking each seat before starting the ride. it started slow, rocking back and forth like it was trying to lull you into a false sense of security. then it picked up, higher and faster, until your stomach was dropping and your soul was leaving your body every time you swung backward.

it might’ve been fun if you weren’t convinced you were about to get launched into orbit.

you two walked around some more until you came across a ride that didn’t look too bad. after waiting in line, you got on. it spun around at a tilt while the track looped you in wide circles.

you took the inside seat, and daniela slid in next to you, taking the outer one.

“i was being crushed the whole time,” you complained, grabbing your bag off the floor afterward.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t know it would do that,” daniela said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“it was kind of funny though,” you admitted, shaking your head with a grin.

next was the dropper. it climbed way too high for comfort, but at least the view of the fairgrounds was nice… until it dropped and your stomach stayed behind somewhere in the sky.

then came the ride that spun around like a giant ticking clock. after that, the swings—where daniela kept reaching out to grab your swing mid-air. you nearly smacked her for playing too much when you were literally floating forty feet above the ground.

the zero-gravity spaceship came after, and for a moment, it was just the two of you holding hands like a couple in a movie—not that either of you mentioned it.

you cooled down with the carousel. it felt like a nice breath after all the chaos, and you took cute videos of each other riding the painted horses.

then came the zipper—the ride you swore was plotting your death. daniela, of course, was having the time of her life. meanwhile, you were screaming like your soul was trying to escape.

“never again, dani,” you muttered once you stumbled off.

“it was so fun though,” she said, still catching her breath from laughing.

“i bet you thought it was,” you replied.

“you okay?” daniela asked as you dropped your things dramatically on the grass to make a makeshift bed.

“too much spinny,” you groaned, flopping down.

“you wanna stop here and just play games now?” daniela offered, crouching beside you.

“aww… but the joker ride,” you sighed, sounding way more disappointed than you actually were.

“there’s always next time,” she said with a shrug.

“already planning a next time?” you asked, smirking up at her.

“i’m always thinking of our future,” daniela said with zero shame.

“you’re being so cheesy while i’m literally dying,” you said, flopping an arm over your forehead.

“that part wasn’t in the future plans,” she teased.

“this is like being drunk, but i’m painfully aware of every decision that led me here,” you said, still staring at the sky.

“just don’t throw up, that would be embarrassing,” she said.

“you’re right. if i do, you have to cover me,” you told her.

“you won’t. just stay here ‘til you feel better,” she said softly.

“that was the plan.”

and she stayed right there with you, sitting in the grass until your stomach stopped doing flips. eventually, you sat up, brushing grass off your arms.

“okay. food now,” you declared. you didn’t even know how long you’d been lying there, but it felt like a small lifetime.

“what do you want?” daniela asked, helping you up. she kept an arm around your waist even though you swore you were fine now.

“i just want a lemonade,” you mumbled.

“you need more than that. let’s see what they have.”

you wandered over to the nearest food stand, which was selling popcorn, cotton candy, funnel cakes, and corn dogs.

“ooh, wanna share a funnel cake?” daniela asked, scanning the menu.

“yes please.”

she bought you both lemonades and one funnel cake to share. you found a nearby table and sat down to eat.

“i’ve had so much fun today,” daniela said as she dusted powdered sugar off her fingers.

“me too. even if i thought you were trying to take me out on that zipper.”

“i really didn’t think it would be that bad,” she said.

“you said you’d ridden it before!” you said, eyes wide in betrayal.

“oh yeah… i lied.”

“only our third date and you’re already lying to me?” you gasped dramatically.

“in my defense, it was the only way to convince you.”

“this is why people say not to trust anyone,” you said, shaking your head with a grin.

“at least you’re the first person i’ve ever ridden it with,” she said.

“and probably the last for me.”

“just like you are for me,” daniela said casually.

“you can’t just say things like that.”

“but it’s true.”

“is it really though?” you raised an eyebrow.

“that part? i’d never lie about,” she said, looking at you seriously for a second.

“mmmhm,” you hummed.

you finished the funnel cake together, casually talking and laughing like there was nowhere else either of you needed to be. eventually, you stood up to toss your cups and the funnel cake tray away, stomach finally calm again.

“can we kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?” daniela asked, her voice soft but certain.

this is the moment, you thought. she’s totally going to ask me to be her girlfriend.

“yeah, let’s go,” you said, trying to sound casual even though your heart had already started racing.

you walked side by side toward the glowing ferris wheel. it was even more beautiful at night, but it also meant the ride was busier now, so the line was way longer then it had been all day.

you both got in line, standing close enough that your arms brushed every now and then.

“i really like the fairgrounds here,” daniela said as you both inched forward in line. the lights from the rides reflected in her eyes and made her smile look even softer.

“yeah?” you asked, bumping your shoulder lightly against hers.

“yeah,” she nodded. “it just feels... nice. not too loud, not too many people, and the food’s decent. plus i’m here with you, so.”

you felt your face heat up at that, even though you tried to play it off by looking around like you hadn’t just gotten butterflies from a simple sentence.

it took a while, but eventually, you made it to the front. the worker helped you into your seat and locked the little door before giving the cart a push. the metal creaked a little as the ride started up, and you could already hear daniela laughing beside you.

“why does it lowkey sound like it’s falling apart?” she joked, gripping the side of the cart.

you laughed too, grabbing onto the bar in front of you. “if this thing breaks and we go flying, i want it on the record that i blame you for choosing it.”

“you agreed though,” she smirked.

“because you wanted to kiss at the top,” you reminded her, giving her a look.

“oh right,” she said, mockingly serious. “that was totally just for the kiss. not because i’m secretly obsessed with cheesy romantic dates or anything.”

“you’re so soft,” you teased.

“only for you.”

that shut you up for a second.

the ride paused a few times as people were loaded into the carts behind you. the lights of the fair twinkled below like scattered glitter, and the night breeze made you pull your jacket tighter around you. daniela glanced over, then tugged the edge of your jacket and scooted closer without saying anything.

when your cart finally reached the very top, it rocked gently in the wind. you could see everything—the games, the food trucks, the stage where someone was singing off-key.

“this view is kind of crazy,” you said, your voice low without meaning to be.

“i know,” daniela said, but she was looking at you, not the view.

you turned toward her slowly making direct eye contact.

“i’m gonna kiss you now,” she whispered.

“okay,” you whispered back.

and then she leaned in and kissed you like it was the only thing she’d wanted to do all day. her hand found yours somewhere between your jackets. it was just the two of you, suspended in the sky like the moment could stay there forever.

when she pulled back, she smiled at you—soft and a little breathless.

“totally worth risking my life on this creaky ride.”

you laughed, but you didn’t let go of her hand.

the ride continued its slow circle, and you both sat in comfortable silence, fingers still laced together. the lights from the fair twinkled below, and you could hear music and people laughing in the background like it was part of the moment. when your cart finally reached the ground again and the ride came to a stop, neither of you moved right away.

but eventually, you stood, stepping out of the cart with daniela right beside you.

as you started walking again, a game booth off to the side caught your eye.

“can we get a goldfish?” you asked daniela, pointing at the fair game booth.

“fair fish have a lifespan of like three days,” she replied.

“that’s exactly why we need to take one and give it a better life,” you said. “we’re guaranteed at least one fish if we play.”

daniela sighed dramatically but smiled, “i guess we can.”

she swiped her card at the conveniently placed ticket stand and walked over to the booth. the game host handed over a bucket of balls, which she placed between the two of you.

“oh, this is sad,” you muttered, watching yet another ball bounce off the rim.

“i’m glad we both suck at this,” daniela laughed.

even though neither of you made a single ball in, the game runner still handed over a tiny tank with a goldfish inside.

“what are we naming our child?” daniela asked as you both walked away with the little plastic tank in hand.

“our child?” you questioned.

“well, yeah. i paid for the ticket, and i also threw some balls,” she said.

“all valid points,” you admitted.

“i’m ready to be a parent,” she said with a proud nod.

“is this considered baby trapping?” you teased.

“am i trapping you, or are you trapping me?” she shot back.

“you. i was ready to raise this child on my own.”

“but we got her together.”

“and how do you know it’s a she?”

“because of the way she looks,” daniela said, pointing into the tank.

“well then, dani jr., we’ve gotta get you out of this janky little tank and into something nice before you lose your mind.”

“oh my god, you’re naming her after me?” daniela grinned.

“yep. so remember that when our daughter needs feeding.”

“dani jr. will be spoiled,” she said proudly.

“are you ready to go? we gotta give our girl a proper home.”

“let’s do it,” daniela nodded.

you both headed toward the exit and made it back to the car. luckily, the parking lot had cleared out, so finding it was easy.

daniela drove to the nearest walmart, since the pet stores were closed, and you both walked straight to the pet aisle. you browsed tanks, filters, food, and accessories.

“what about that one?” you asked, pointing at a giant 55-gallon tank.

“that might be a little much for her,” daniela said.

“our child deserves the best,” you insisted.

“do you even have space for that?” she asked, raising a brow.

“i’ll make space,” you said.

“let’s just get the ten-gallon one and some cute decorations,” daniela suggested.

“…okay, yeah, maybe that’s smarter,” you agreed.

you picked out a tank, some fake plants, gravel, and food, then checked out and headed to your house. daniela parked in the driveway for once, and you led her inside.

“hi, dani,” julie greeted as soon as she saw her walk in.

“hey, julie,” daniela replied.

“you wanna meet dani jr.?” you asked.

“who?”

“our child.”

“…hello?” julie blinked at you in confusion.

you held up the tiny tank. “meet dani jr.”

“you got a fish?”

“yes. and now we need to set up her tank so she doesn’t die,” you said as you led daniela into your room.

“leave the door open!” julie called out with a teasing grin—not that you listened.

you and daniela got to work, carefully transferring the fish to the new tank, setting up the filter, adding water conditioner, and decorating it with some plants and pebbles. once everything looked good, you even fed her for the first time.

when it was all done, you sat down at your desk while daniela lingered by the door.

“i think today kind of drained me,” you admitted.

“yeah, same. i should probably head home.”

“i’ll walk you to your car.”

daniela smiled as you stood up. she reached for the doorknob, but before she could open it, you grabbed her arm, turning her around and pulling her into a deep kiss.

“because the cameras would’ve caught us at the front door,” you explained afterward.

“wait—so your roommates saw us last time?” daniela asked, covering her mouth in shock.

“yes. and i’m not getting teased like that again.”

you both laughed and finally walked out. thankfully, the living room was empty, so you didn’t have to run into anyone. you walked her out to her car and settled for a hug this time. once she got in, you waved her off and didn’t turn around until she had actually pulled away—just like she always waited to see you get back inside safely.

“how’d it go?” belle asked the moment you stepped back into the living room, flopping down on the couch beside her. apparently, everybody decided to spawn back in when daniela left.

“she didn’t ask me to be her girlfriend,” you let out a dramatic sigh, sinking into the cushions.

“did you ever think about asking her yourself?” julie glanced up from her phone, eyebrows raised.

you groaned. “we established a long time ago that she’s the asker in this relationship. she’s the one who makes the first move—she asked me out the first time, she plans the dates, she pays, she drives. i just… follow her lead.”

“and maybe it’s time you switch it up.” julie tilted her head.

“but i’m scared,” you admitted quietly, curling your legs up onto the couch.

“she probably is too,” belle said gently. “that girl always looks like a happy puppy when she’s with you.”

you were quiet for a moment, chewing on your lip as the weight of your own hesitation settled in. the idea of asking first, of making it official, made your stomach flip.

“i’ll give it a week,” you said finally, more to yourself than them. “and if she doesn’t bring it up… i’ll ask.”

“look at you being bold for once,” julie said.

“we’re rooting for you,” belle grinned and bumped her shoulder into yours.

you smiled back; maybe it was time to stop waiting and make the first move for once.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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The specific process by which Google enshittified its search

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

All digital businesses have the technical capacity to enshittify: the ability to change the underlying functions of the business from moment to moment and user to user, allowing for the rapid transfer of value between business customers, end users and shareholders:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Which raises an important question: why do companies enshittify at a specific moment, after refraining from enshittifying before? After all, a company always has the potential to benefit by treating its business customers and end users worse, by giving them a worse deal. If you charge more for your product and pay your suppliers less, that leaves more money on the table for your investors.

Of course, it's not that simple. While cheating, price-gouging, and degrading your product can produce gains, these tactics also threaten losses. You might lose customers to a rival, or get punished by a regulator, or face mass resignations from your employees who really believe in your product.

Companies choose not to enshittify their products…until they choose to do so. One theory to explain this is that companies are engaged in a process of continuous assessment, gathering data about their competitive risks, their regulators' mettle, their employees' boldness. When these assessments indicate that the conditions are favorable to enshittification, the CEO walks over to the big "enshittification" lever on the wall and yanks it all the way to MAX.

Some companies have certainly done this – and paid the price. Think of Myspace or Yahoo: companies that made themselves worse by reducing quality and gouging on price (be it measured in dollars or attention – that is, ads) before sinking into obscure senescence. These companies made a bet that they could get richer while getting worse, and they were wrong, and they lost out.

But this model doesn't explain the Great Enshittening, in which all the tech companies are enshittifying at the same time. Maybe all these companies are subscribing to the same business newsletter (or, more likely, buying advice from the same management consultancy) (cough McKinsey cough) that is a kind of industry-wide starter pistol for enshittification.

I think it's something else. I think the main job of a CEO is to show up for work every morning and yank on the enshittification lever as hard as you can, in hopes that you can eke out some incremental gains in your company's cost-basis and/or income by shifting value away from your suppliers and customers to yourself.

We get good digital services when the enshittification lever doesn't budge – when it is constrained: by competition, by regulation, by interoperable mods and hacks that undo enshittification (like alternative clients and ad-blockers) and by workers who have bargaining power thanks to a tight labor market or a powerful union:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

When Google ordered its staff to build a secret Chinese search engine that would censor search results and rat out dissidents to the Chinese secret police, googlers revolted and refused, and the project died:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragonfly_(search_engine)

When Google tried to win a US government contract to build AI for drones used to target and murder civilians far from the battlefield, googlers revolted and refused, and the project died:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/01/technology/google-pentagon-project-maven.html

What's happened since – what's behind all the tech companies enshittifying all at once – is that tech worker power has been smashed, especially at Google, where 12,000 workers were fired just months after a $80b stock buyback that would have paid their wages for the next 27 years. Likewise, competition has receded from tech bosses' worries, thanks to lax antitrust enforcement that saw most credible competitors merged into behemoths, or neutralized with predatory pricing schemes. Lax enforcement of other policies – privacy, labor and consumer protection – loosened up the enshittification lever even more. And the expansion of IP rights, which criminalize most kinds of reverse engineering and aftermarket modification, means that interoperability no longer applies friction to the enshittification lever.

Now that every tech boss has an enshittification lever that moves very freely, they can show up for work, yank the enshittification lever, and it goes all the way to MAX. When googlers protested the company's complicity in the genocide in Gaza, Google didn't kill the project – it mass-fired the workers:

https://medium.com/@notechforapartheid/statement-from-google-workers-with-the-no-tech-for-apartheid-campaign-on-googles-indiscriminate-28ba4c9b7ce8

Enshittification is a macroeconomic phenomenon, determined by the regulatory environment for competition, privacy, labor, consumer protection and IP. But enshittification is also a microeconomic phenomenon, the result of innumerable boardroom and product-planning fights within companies in which would-be enshittifiers try to do things that make the company's products and services shittier wrestle with rivals who want to keep things as they are, or make them better, whether out of principle or fear of the consequences.

Those microeconomic wrestling-matches are where we find enshittification's heroes and villains – the people who fight for the user or stand up for a fair deal, versus the people who want to cheat and wreck to make things better for the company and win bonuses and promotions for themselves:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

These microeconomic struggles are usually obscure, because companies are secretive institutions and our glimpses into their deliberations are normally limited to the odd leaked memo, whistleblower tell-all, or spectacular worker revolt. But when a company gets dragged into court, a new window opens into the company's internal operations. That's especially true when the plaintiff is the US government.

Which brings me back to Google, the poster-child for enshittification, a company that revolutionized the internet a quarter of a century ago with a search-engine that was so good that it felt like magic, which has decayed so badly and so rapidly that whole sections of the internet are disappearing from view for the 90% of users who rely on the search engine as their gateway to the internet.

Google is being sued by the DOJ's Antitrust Division, and that means we are getting a very deep look into the company, as its internal emails and memos come to light:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Google is a tech company, and tech companies have literary cultures – they run on email and other forms of written communication, even for casual speech, which is more likely to take place in a chat program than at a water-cooler. This means that tech companies have giant databases full of confessions to every crime they've ever committed:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Large pieces of Google's database-of-crimes are now on display – so much, in fact, that it's hard for anyone to parse through it all and understand what it means. But some people are trying, and coming up with gold. One of those successful prospectors is Ed Zitron, who has produced a staggering account of the precise moment at which Google search tipped over into enshittification, which names the executives at the very heart of the rot:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/the-men-who-killed-google/

Zitron tells the story of a boardroom struggle over search quality, in which Ben Gomes – a long-tenured googler who helped define the company during its best years – lost a fight with Prabhakar Raghavan, a computer scientist turned manager whose tactic for increasing the number of search queries (and thus the number of ads the company could show to searchers) was to decrease the quality of search. That way, searchers would have to spend more time on Google before they found what they were looking for.

Zitron contrasts the background of these two figures. Gomes, the hero, worked at Google for 19 years, solving fantastically hard technical scaling problems and eventually becoming the company's "search czar." Raghavan, the villain, "failed upwards" through his career, including a stint as Yahoo's head of search from 2005-12, a presiding over the collapse of Yahoo's search business. Under Raghavan's leadership, Yahoo's search market-share fell from 30.4% to 14%, and in the end, Yahoo jettisoned its search altogether and replaced it with Bing.

For Zitron, the memos show how Raghavan engineered the ouster of Gomes, with help from the company CEO, the ex-McKinseyite Sundar Pichai. It was a triumph for enshittification, a deliberate decision to make the product worse in order to make it more profitable, under the (correct) belief that the company's exclusivity deals to provide search everywhere from Iphones and Samsungs to Mozilla would mean that the business would face no consequences for doing so.

It a picture of a company that isn't just too big to fail – it's (as FTC Chair Lina Khan put it on The Daily Show) too big to care:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

Zitron's done excellent sleuthing through the court exhibits here, and his writeup is incandescently brilliant. But there's one point I quibble with him on. Zitron writes that "It’s because the people running the tech industry are no longer those that built it."

I think that gets it backwards. I think that there were always enshittifiers in the C-suites of these companies. When Page and Brin brought in the war criminal Eric Schmidt to run the company, he surely started every day with a ritual, ferocious tug at that enshittification lever. The difference wasn't who was in the C-suite – the difference was how freely the lever moved.

On Saturday, I wrote:

The platforms used to treat us well and now treat us badly. That's not because they were setting a patient trap, luring us in with good treatment in the expectation of locking us in and turning on us. Tech bosses do not have the executive function to lie in wait for years and years.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/22/kargo-kult-kaptialism/#dont-buy-it

Someone on Hacker News called that "silly," adding that "tech bosses do in fact have the executive function to lie in wait for years and years. That's literally the business model of most startups":

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=40114339

That's not quite right, though. The business-model of the startup is to yank on the enshittification lever every day. Tech bosses don't lie in wait for the perfect moment to claw away all the value from their employees, users, business customers, and suppliers – they're always trying to get that value. It's only when they become too big to care that they succeed. That's the definition of being too big to care.

In antitrust circles, they sometimes say that "the process is the punishment." No matter what happens to the DOJ's case against Google, its internal workers have been made visible to the public. The secrecy surrounding the Google trial when it was underway meant that a lot of this stuff flew under the radar when it first appeared. But as Zitron's work shows, there is plenty of treasure to be found in that trove of documents that is now permanently in the public domain.

When future scholars study the enshittocene, they will look to accounts like Zitron's to mark the turning points from the old, good internet to the enshitternet. Let's hope those future scholars have a new, good internet on which to publish their findings.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

#pluralistic #ed zitron #google #microincentives #constraints #enshittification #rot economy #platform decay #search #ben gomes #code yellow #mckinsey #hacking engagement #Prabhakar Raghavan #yahoo #doj #antitrust #trustbusting

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luckyroll3 · 5 months ago

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Unexpected Masterlist

Summary: In the vibrant city of Miami, two worlds collide in the most unexpected of ways. Mia Sharpe, a successful 42-year-old marketing executive, finds herself at a crossroads in her life. Despite her professional success, Mia feels an inexplicable void that her career and single life have not filled. Her life takes an unexpected turn when she gifts her niece VIP tickets to a Stray Kids concert. Although she knows nothing about the group, she accompanies her niece and is captivated by Stray Kids' charismatic leader, Bang Chan.

Chan, a self-professed fuck boy at the peak of his career, is looking for his next fling. After spotting Mia at the concert, followed by an unexpected chance encounter, he falls hard. The two kick off a whirlwind romance, despite the age difference and the distaste they both have for serious relationships and their lack faith in ‘love’. As their bond deepens, Mia and Chan navigate the complexities of their vastly different realities and whether they are right for each other.

Fuck Boy Bang Chan x original character (f); Fling, Smut

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, rough sex, graphic language, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Updates posted weekly on Saturdays and Sundays.

Chapter 1: God's Menu

Chapter 2: I Saw Sparks

Chapter 3: Nothing But a Number

Chapter 4: Come Back to Earth

Chapter 5: Hate to Admit It

Chapter 6: Curious

Chapter 7: A Miseducation

Chapter 8: Just Running Across My Mind

Chapter 9: Tell Me What You Want

Chapter 10: Questioning, Wavering, Weakening

Chapter 11: Just Can't Control It

Chapter 12: Next to You

Chapter 13: Can't Leave You Alone

Chapter 14: Want You So Bad

Chapter 15: Making Love Until We Drown

Chapter 16: Magnetic

Chapter 17: Face Down, Ass Up

Chapter 18: A Little Less Conversation

Chapter 19: You're Everything

Chapter 20: Don't it Feel Good

Chapter 21: Trouble, Trouble, Trouble

Chapter 22: Fallin' to Pieces

Chapter 23: What it Takes

Chapter 24: Yeah... We Crash

Chapter 25: I Can't Control the Feeling

Chapter 26: Something That We're Not

Chapter 27: No Turning Back Once We're Connected

Chapter 28: Bad Girls Do It Well

Chapter 29: Girl Fight

Chapter 30:

Chapter 31:

Chapter 32:

Chapter 33:

Chapter 34:

Chapter 35:

My Masterlist

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #skz fanfic #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bangchan imagines #bang chan imagines #skz smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #bangchan #skz #skz fanfiction #fuckboy chan #fuckboy bang chan

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 year ago

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Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath.

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year ago

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𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

☆☆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ☆☆

hi again :) i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine. i'm proud to be banding together with the community on tumblr to help palestinians during this horrible time.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money lol) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your [INSERT FIC] fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

★ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ★ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ★ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics when i can. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause ;)

☆☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ☆☆

★ pink pony club

on saturday nights, the lights at the fall dim as a performer takes stage. beauty, grace, taking the stage as music begins to trickle from the speakers for their performance. you're born naked, the rest is drag. how do the characters of obey me interact with this art form? are they a performer? an amateur? do they yearn for the spotlight or admire their own outfit from the shadows?

drag!au. bulleted fic/headcanons. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ human!au x farming!au

a breeze travels through a small valley town. the spring is warm-- a perfect time for new beginnings. the moving truck pulls away from the small farm where you've been dropped off. this is your land now. to see it thrive, you must love and care for each inch. but first, you should probably introduce yourself to the local townspeople.

human!au and farming!au. heavily inspired by both harvest moon/stardew valley games and my mutual @misc-obeyme and their human!au. small paragraphs for each character. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.

★ obey me characters with earrings

accessories are a wonderful addition to any outfit. if the characters of obey me had their ears pierced, what sorts of earrings would they wear?

bulleted headcanons/fic. themes of x reader. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ obey me demon brothers presenting you with a friendship bracelet in return

you presented the avatars of sin with a custom friendship bracelet to commemorate your growing bond. now, they're here to return the favor.

demon brothers x reader (platonic OR romantic, up to reader interpretation). revival of a long-dead series. bulleted fic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ the fall's private rooms (nsfw warning)

being a human in the devildom has left you with a certain... interest in demonkind and other fantastical creatures. but you're far too embarrassed to explore this fascination with anyone you know. the solution? an anonymous station set up in one of the fall's private rooms allowing you to fuck someone without knowing who they are, no strings attached. this set-up grows a bit more complicated, though, when word travels through the grapevine about the dirty things you're doing. the door closes to the room you're tucked away in, indicating someone is here to indulge you... but is that a familiar voice you hear on the other side of the wall?

nsfw. minors dni. obey me characters x reader smut. gloryhole dynamic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/5000.

★ oc spotlight: introductions

the rules of the exchange program are simple: the celestial realm and the human realm both send three of their residents to the the devildom to experience hell's culture for an entire year. among the usual residents of purgatory hall, two new faces are seen wandering about. one, a straight-laced, fledgling sorcerer trying her best to explore the depths of the devildom's history and gain a grasp on her budding powers. the other, an angel born hard-of-hearing and further deafened by the celestial war with a penchant for beautiful artistic creations.

canon-divergent!au. x reader. introduction of two original characters. character profiles. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

★ oc spotlight: vampire!au

vampirism is a strange affliction. it creates a recluse of the most social creature, driven from the sunlight and modern society into the shadows by bloodlust and misery. you are a human being who has recently become the source of blood for each of these two ancient vampires. how does your relationship with the evolve? do they grow to see you as more than a pet, or are you slaughtered for your insolence long before they remember your name?

vampire!au. ocs x reader (separate). full-length standalone fics. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

☆☆ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☆☆

i'll be accepting drabble requests for the seven demon brothers and the dateables. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).

since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.

do you want to support gaza and request fics for twisted wonderland? check out my other blog here

#fics for gaza #sponsor a wip #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me smut

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dragonfly0808 · 1 month ago

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Katniss as an Almost Covey (Part 2)

The second part of this little story, I will post it on AO3 once two things happen 1. I have 3 chapters, I’m planning for chapter 3 to be a Seam wedding and 2. I finish Sunrise on the Reaping, I’m about 2 thirds through it and I’m pretty sure I’ll finish it today or tmrrow.

Especially cause i do have a chapter half planned about her talking to Haymitch but I want to have all the context before I chose his dialouge

One detail will change about part 1; Prim needs a coat instead of shoes, you’ll see why

hope you like it!

Katniss stood with her arms crossed as she waited for Prim.

School had just ended. It’d been a week since the Mayor’s party and Katniss felt almost proud as she watched Prim skipping her way towards her with her new coat on, the last of the snow was still clearing out and the coat was big enough to hopefully last her the next two winters.

“You ready to go?” She questioned, reaching for her little sister’s hand.

“Yeah, I’ll probably spend the whole day making cheese, Lady is really working hard lately.”

“That’s good, maybe you’ll have enough to-”

“Hey Katniss wait up!”

Katniss turned to find Delly Cartwright of all people running towards her with a big smile on her face, waving as though they were in the middle of a crowd.

She frowned, “Delly, is something wrong?”

“Oh no, not at all I just wanted to catch you before the end of the day-” Delly had been running, stopping before her to catch her breath, “I wanted to know if you might be willing to sing at my birthday party?”

“…what?”

Delly continued as she tried to get her curls in order, still smiling big, “Well I heard that you played the guitar and sung at the Mayor’s party and- I asked Peeta and Madge and they both said you were wonderful and I would love to have some actual music at my party- it’s a small reunion but- would you be willing to sing again?”

“Well-”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you much to be honest but- I could trade you a pair of shoes and maybe a pair of soles instead?” Delly looked a bit embarrassed, clearly unsure of how to make a good deal as a merchant’s daughter who had never set foot in the Hob.

The cobbler’s daughter.

Prim perked up, “Could it be a pair of boots?”

Delly gleamed down at her, “Yeah, I’m sure you can find something just right for you in the store.” She turned to Katniss, “Does that sound good? Shoes and soles for an hour of singing?”

A full hour. She’d barely managed half an hour.

Besides…

“Shoes and soles feels a bit excessive… shoes would do.” Katniss said, since it felt a lot different to take advantage of Delly’s innocence than the Mayor’s ignorance.

Besides she’d always liked Delly well enough, she was probably the friendliest person she knew.

She nodded along, “Alright then! Umm… the party will be this Sunday at my place and you can go there Saturday if you’d like to choose the shoes you want.”

“Actually… could I tell you for sure tomorrow? I just need to check some stuff. Make sure I have enough songs for an hour and all that.”

“Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow then!” Delly all but skipped away, clearly giddy about the mere possibility of having live music at her party.

Prim frowned as they began their walk home, “Why did you say you’d think about it? You have more than enough songs for an hour-long show.”

Katniss sighed, “I’m not even sure we need new shoes.”

“You need new boots.”

“No I don’t.” Her hunting boots still held up well enough, “I might need to change the soles soon but I can get those at the Hob.”

“Or, you could get a new pair of prettier boots to double as your hunting and show shoes. Or you could get pretty boots with a little heel for your shows!” Prim said excitedly.

Katniss couldn’t help but laugh, wrapping an arm around Prim’s shoulders to pull her against her side, “I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there. I’ve had one show, that doesn’t justify a new pair of shoes specifically for performing.”

“I think you’re underestimating how in demand you’ll be.” She countered, “And- even if you don’t want to get boots with a heel- you should still get some. I know yours can survive with some soles but you spend so much time in the woods… you deserve them. Why do I get a new coat but you can’t get new boots if you can get them without trading most of your game?”

Katniss watched her for a long moment before going to ruffle her hair, “When did you get so argumentative?”

The sisters laughed as they continued their way home.

After mulling it over some more and a trip to the woods during which, a tiny part of her had to admit that her boots had probably lasted two years longer than they should have… she decided she’d give another show.

Delly seemed to be far too delighted the next day as she confirmed that she’d sing at her birthday party.

While Katniss wasn’t too comfortable with getting paid before her performance, Delly insisted she pick a pair of boots the day before so she had the option of wearing them for the show.

Prim insisted on coming along to prevent her from choosing the most basic pair of boots she could find, though Katniss didn’t see the point in getting a pretty pair of boots, not like it made them any more functional.

A small bell rang as she pushed her way into the shoe store behind Prim, Delly quickly leaving the front counter to show her the boots.

There were a few options, Prim smacking her hand when she went to check the plainest pair, Katniss quietly rolling her eyes before going to indulge her sister as she carefully inspected the other pairs of boots.

To Prim’s credit, she instantly dismissed the one pair of boots with a proper heel, already knowing that a heel would be of no use in the woods and she refused to make even more of a spectacle of herself.

Prim smiled as she held out a pair made of soft brown leather with paler brown thread sewn through to form a single simple flower on the outside side and black laces at the front, as well as, not a heel but a chunkier bottom part.

The flowers almost looked like dandelions.

Katniss took too long to reject, Prim quickly picking up on the fact that she liked them and insisting she try them on, Delly right with her.

Katniss pulled the boots on, half expecting for them to be too uncomfortable to take into the woods but being pleasantly surprised, they needed to be broken in but they might just work. And the laces up to her calfs ensured the boots molded perfectly to her leg.

Prim looked far too pleased with herself as Katniss tested the boots, walking back and forth in the store a few times.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten new shoes.

It seemed like an indulgence, especially since…

They felt a little too nice to be worth a mere hour of singing and playing.

Delly sensed her hesitation, “Still not convinced?”

Katniss turned to her, “They’re beautiful… you sure your parents are good with letting these go just for a show?”

“I’m sure!”

In the end, Katniss relented, feeling like her backbone was becoming no stronger than rubber as she walked back home with a shoebox carefully tucked against her hip.

Once they reached the Meadow, she handed the box to Prim to be taken home, where she would finish preparing Lady’s cheese and help their mom with some concoctions.

Katniss had wanted to go to Delly’s as early as possible to get it out of the way before heading to the woods and not have it nagging at the back of her mind as she hunted.

She checked the snares first and re-set them, finding nothing but shooting two rabbits hidden in the bushes. She searched the trees carefully, looking for any other animals since many of them were still hiding out due to the snow.

She also shoot three squirrels before running into Gale, who’d probably been in the woods since earlier, “Late start Catnip?” He questioned with a small smirk, a turkey hanging from his belt.

“Had to pass by the cobbler’s.”

Gale frowned, glancing down at her feet, “Are your hunting boots that bad? We could’ve gotten new soles in the Hob.”

“Yeah I know. I didn’t get soles.” She didn’t elaborate as she helped him get down one of his newer traps, one meant for grooslings, it seemed to have been successful, managing to snag two of them.

“You got new shoes? I thought you were trying to not trade too much of your meat.”

“I didn’t trade meat for them.” Katniss handed the grooslings to Gale before going to check one of the bushes to see if any blackberries were growing.

“…then what did you trade?”

Katniss sighed to herself as she went to stand up, already knowing Gale wouldn’t stop nagging until she elaborated, “Delly’s birthday party is tomorrow.”

That was all she needed to say for him to get it, he shook his head as he looked down, “I thought it was a one time thing?”

“So did I.” She replied honestly, “But it was a good deal… and if more people are willing to pay me for songs… then I’ll probably do it.”

Gale watched her for a long moment, considering something.

Then, he shrugged, clearly trying to play it off, “Alright then.”

He turned away, going deeper into the woods. Katniss decided to not pursue the conversation, if he really did have a problem with her singing, she wouldn’t go out of her way to uncover said issue.

They went through the rest of their usual routine before returning to town, first stopping by the Peacekeeper base to sell the wild turkeys, then heading to the Hob to trade off the grooslings for thread and fabric since Gale’s siblings needed some repairs to their clothes as well as bandages for her mother’s patients.

Since there still wasn’t as much game as usual they each kept a rabbit and a squirrel but for the third one they stopped by the bakery.

Katniss knocked on the back door and adjusted her braid over her shoulder right as the door swung open, revealing the baker.

As per usual, nothing was said, Katniss simply raising up the squirrel, the baker nodding and turning to get something to give in exchange.

She saw Peeta deeper in the bakery, focused as he used some long wooden paddle to place a tray with dollops of raw batter into the oven. Maybe cookies or buns.

He caught sight of her as he shut the oven, in the past, if they caught sight of each other while she traded with his dad, she’d quickly look away before she could see how he reacted, this time, she didn’t look away, Peeta blinked once in surprise before giving her a small smile and a two-finger wave.

She returned the tiny wave, realizing that she’d likely be seeing him at Delly’s party since the two seemed to be friends.

Peeta stepped out of view as the baker returned, handing over a paper bag with two small buns inside.

“Since when are you friends with Mellark?” Gale asked casually as they started making their way back to the Seam, splitting up their goods.

“I don’t know if I’d call us friends. He was just being nice.”

Gale frowned but didn’t ask anymore, they split up and Katniss was relieved to be back home, her mom quickly going to preserve the squirrel and start skinning the rabbit for a stew.

Prim had five small blocks of cheese carefully wrapped up in basil leaves under a bowl, ready to be traded the following day before Katniss put on her show.

While the stew brewed, Prim excitedly insisted they start figuring out which dress she should wear the following day, some rouge still remained from the previous show and Prim had apparently ground up a few petals to make a tentative eyeshadow that Katniss was very much hesitant about trying out.

She chose other simple pieces, another purple skirt, this one a lighter tone, lavender with darker purple making a pattern of small lines and outlines of squares all down the length of it, a loose white blouse with purple and pink flowers down the sleeves and in two lines down her front. Prim picked out a thick brown belt with light brown detailing and two metal snakes at the front serving as a buckle that would almost work as a corset, giving the outfit a more interesting ‘silhouette’ her mom said, whatever that meant.

As they sat to have dinner, Katniss explained her plan for the following day, but when Prim asked if she’d prepared a personalized message since this was a birthday show, Katniss realized something she already knew.

While she might be categorized as a singer, she wasn’t really a performer. At the Mayor’s party she hadn’t spoken a word in between songs, not bothering to introduce any of them in a special manner and hadn’t said anything either at the beginning or at the end of her performance.

Realizing this, she added a quick opening with a traditional birthday song and added a closing song that she thought Delly would particularly enjoy. Prim suggested she at least add some flare to her entrance, perhaps twirling on stage to open up, but that felt a bit dumb, especially since she was almost sure her ‘stage’ would be a bunch of crates pushed together.

The following day, she used the morning to go out hunting again, managing to forage a few herbs her mother was running low on and trading a rabbit for some other herbs that still weren’t growing but one of the women at the Hob had preserved to last through the winter.

Back at home she hurriedly ate before rehearsing what would be her closing song on the guitar, she had a feeling that quite a few of her songs would’ve needed a full band to have the full effect and impact of them, but since it was the guitar or just her voice, she’d have to make do.

After eating, she took a bath, her mom managing to coax the bottom half of her hair into curling a bit and pinning a few pieces back to keep it out of her face.

Prim applied rouge to her cheeks and lips and managed to talk her into letting her use the pale pink powder she’d prepared, using a tiny bit on her eyelids.

She pulled on her clothes and laced up her new boots, Prim holding up the small mirror so Katniss could get a full view once she took several steps back.

She gave a slow spin, inspecting herself.

She felt… pretty.

Katniss shook her head, trying to center herself.

She had a job to do, she didn’t have time to waste admiring herself in the mirror.

She swung her guitar over her shoulder and left.

She noticed there were once again, looks shot her way, she was even more colorful than the last time, so she supposed it made sense. She felt like she actually looked the part of a performer this time around.

She entered the merchant square and, just her luck-

“Katniss!” She looked to her right, seeing Peeta leaving the bakery, a package in his hands, smiling bright as he went to join her, “You headed down to Delly’s?”

“Yeah… I would’ve thought you’d already be there.” Katniss herself was supposed to arrive an hour after the party started to give her show midway through the party that was supposedly meant to end just after dark.

Peeta shrugged, carefully adjusting the box to have a more secure hold on it, “I went earlier to help her set up a bit, but they needed me for the afternoon rush.”

Katniss nodded along, hesitating for a moment before speaking again, “Why did you talk about me to Delly?”

Peeta faltered for a moment, “What?”

“Delly she mentioned that- you talked to her about my show?”

“Oh, well I just said you were great just like I knew you’d be. That’s all.”

“Like you knew I’d be? We don’t even know each other.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to point that out, maybe a bit defensive at the idea of anyone talking about her, especially her singing when she still wasn’t quite sure she hadn’t indeed made a fool of herself.

Peeta didn’t seem insulted though, instead nodding along, “It’s weird right? How you can know about someone without knowing them at all… but if you keep doing shows and I keep delivering cakes then it’s pretty likely we’ll be running into each other a few times so… how about we get to know each other a bit? You could ask me anything.”

“Like what?” Katniss questioned.

“I don’t know like… what’s your favorite color?”

“Well now you’re just crossing a line, that’s too personal.” She joked with a deadpanned expression, earning a chuckle from him before she looked down at her new shoes and obliged, “It’s green. Yours?”

“Orange.”

“Really?”

“Not strong orange, orange like… like the sunset.” He told her, glancing up at the clear example of said orange in the horizon as the sun started to go down.

“Mmm…” Katniss glanced at the box in his hands, no doubt containing a cake for the party, “Do you really frost all the cakes? And the cookies?”

He gave her a bashful smile, “Why do you sound so surprised? It’s not like it’s anything impressive.”

“I’ve seen some of those tiny flowers you make when Prim wants to stop by to look, no idea how you make those they look so fragile.”

“If we’re talking truly impressive things, I can’t understand how you manage to shoot squirrels right in the eye every single time. That’s impressive.”

Katniss frowned at that.

Peeta slowed down for a moment, clearly thinking he might’ve said something wrong, “What?”

“Nothing just… for some reason I never considered you might be eating those squirrels as well. I guess I just thought your dad kept them to himself or something.”

Peeta smirked, “I’ve got no doubt he has on occasion. But for the most part he shares with me or one of my brothers- whoever is in the kitchen at the time.”

Katniss nodded along, “Well you might think the shooting is impressive but it’s just part of the job, no one wants a squirrel that has had half the meat on it shot off.”

“And the frosting is just part of the job as well,” Peeta played right along, “people are more likely to buy cakes and cookies if they look pretty.”

“I guess you’re right.” Katniss thought back to her last trip to the bakery and the buns that’d held a surprise, “Hey, what kind of bread was it that your dad gave us yesterday?”

“Cheese buns, it was the only thing we had ready to go. Why? Did you not like it?” Peeta was watching her now, eyes searching her face for something she couldn’t fathom.

Katniss took a deep breath, “It was delightful,” she confessed begrudgingly, upset at the new weakness that was attempting to develop, “I was almost tempted to just eat the whole thing by myself.”

Peeta pressed his lips together in an attempt to subdue his smile at Katniss’s borderline anger at the audacity the bread had to be that good, “Really?”

“Really.”

They reached Delly’s shop at that moment, going around and through an alley to reach the small garden at the back, Peeta hurrying forwards to open the back gate for her, Katniss surprised at the gesture but saying nothing about it, stepping in.

It was a simple party, about ten or fifteen people, Katniss recognizing most as merchant kids, a small table with a bowl of milk and a plate of turkey, just enough for everyone to have a decent sized piece. Even a tiny bowl of blackberries.

Delly all but ran over to them, giving Peeta a quick hug and telling him he could set the cake down at the table before turning to Katniss with a bright smile and pointing out the crates they’d set up for her show, “You can start as soon as you’d like, thanks for coming again.”

“Of course, I’ll just check my guitar is tuned and go on up.”

In truth, Katniss needed a minute to brace herself.

She’d obviously known that agreeing to perform for Delly’s party meant performing for her classmates, but actually seeing them was different.

She caught sight of Madge, who offered her a reassuring smile from her spot near the blackberries, also seemingly not entirely comfortable in the small crowd.

Katniss gave her guitar a quick check since she’d done all the proper tuning at home before approaching the crates, there was no microphone here which was to be expected.

She hoped on up and turned around, finding Madge for some comfort before knocking on her guitar twice to get everyone’s full attention even though most had been watching her as soon as she’d arrived.

“Good evening,” she spoke in a loud tone, she remembered what her mom had gently told her, that she didn’t have to say anything special or meaningful, just a quick something to open her show, “I won’t waste anyone’s time, we all know why we’re here,” she turned towards Delly, gesturing to her, “Happy Birthday Delly!”

Delly blushed as everyone whooped and clapped for her before Katniss began her show with a short and sweet birthday song.

Like the previous time, with every minute and chord that passed by she gained more confidence, singing loudly and proudly, strumming and occasionally tapping her guitar felt like second nature as she played mostly up-beat and happier songs, most of the merchant kids dancing along or watching as they took a moment to drink milk or eat.

As she sang, Peeta carefully unboxed the cake, giving Delly the first slice before hanging back with a few friends, during Sam McGee, a song about some man thought to have frozen to death before a cremation thawed him out just fine (some of her dad’s songs were very strange when she thought about them too hard) he dragged Delly for a sporadic dance, hopping and spinning around in a way that reminded Katniss of her own silly dances with Prim.

She thought she might’ve heard Delly say once Peeta might as well have been her brother.

She hadn’t known whether she believed that back then, but now she did.

The hour slipped through her fingers like water as she sang about mountain winds and lost loves and daring challenges and mysterious folks.

As she ended a song that had everyone up and dancing, the merchant kids catching their breaths as she cleared her throat, “Alright now, for my last song-”

Many of the kids whipped around, starting to boo and pouting at the thought of her leaving the stage.

Katniss froze, unsure of how to respond to that, deciding to wait until the moment passed and clearing her throat again, hoping her stance hadn’t become too awkward.

“For my last song, I thought I’d dedicate something to the birthday girl,” Peeta and many others whooped, nudging Delly, whose smile could’ve powered the electric fence around the District, “this isn’t a song I’ve practiced a lot, but it’s one that reminds me of you and I really hope you like it Delly. This last one, is Keep on the Sunny Side.”

It wasn’t a song Katniss was particularly fond of, mostly because she couldn’t quite take seriously the lyrics of the song, asking the listener to look on the bright side of life.

But Delly seemed delighted by it, dancing the entire while with her friends, some of them taking pretty ribbons off their hair to weave into a long necklace for Delly, maybe a gift or a momentary token of appreciation, she didn’t know, but Delly was happy and that was all that mattered because it meant she did her job right.

The final strum of her guitar came with applause as she gave a quick bow, Madge approaching the crates that served as a stage with a smile and her glass of milk still half full, offering the rest to Katniss, who took a sip before realizing the crowd was still applauding her and she felt herself blush, glass in hand as she quickly waved them off.

“What are you clapping at me for? Give it up for the birthday girl!” She said impulsively, wanting the eyes to leave her for a moment as she caught her breath and took a few sips to soothe her parched throat, Madge staying close by, the crowd taking it as a joke and going to thankfully turn their attention to Delly.

Katniss hopped off the crates, thanking Madge as she handed the glass back, Madge finishing it off and going to go with her towards the back gate, they were intercepted by Delly, who went to hug Katniss.

“Thank you so much! You were amazing!”

Katniss hesitantly returned the hug, “Uh- you’re welcome. The boots are amazing.”

Delly pulled back, “I’m glad you liked them. You leaving already?”

Katniss nodded, “I’m needed at home.”

“I have to call it a night too Delly.” Madge said, stepping forwards to squeeze her hand, “Sorry to leave a bit early but I can’t stay out much longer without my dad worrying.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, you were the first to arrive! Although- did you have any cake? I didn’t see you with it, hold on-”

As though he’d been summoned at the mere mention of cake, Peeta suddenly stepped up to Delly’s side, holding two napkins that were carefully wrapped around slices of cake, Delly taking them handing one to Madge and one to-

“Oh, no Delly I’m fine.” Katniss tried to tell her, “You already paid me.”

Delly shook her head, “Come on Katniss, it’d just be bad manners to let anyone leave without a slice of cake.”

“Not to mention it’d be an insult to the baker that made it if you didn’t take it.” Peeta added with a smile.

Katniss titled her head at him, “I thought you said you only did the frosting?”

“I never said I only did the frosting, what kind of baker doesn’t know how to make a good cake?” He teased.

Delly all but shoved the slice into her hands, “Thanks again Katniss, the show was perfect. And thanks for coming Madge and for the gift it was beautiful. See you two tomorrow?”

After saying their final goodbyes, Madge and Katniss started making their way down the street walking side by side, her guitar slung over her back, cake slices wrapped up in hand.

Madge grinned after a minute, turning to her, “Do be honest with me,” Katniss tensed up, was she about to bring up Peeta? “How painful was it for you to do that last song?”

Oh. She was just teasing her. Why had she thought that she’d ask about Peeta?

Katniss snorted, “Was I that obvious?”

“No, but I think I’m learning how to see right through you. Do you not like the song?”

That should’ve unnerved her, but she trusted Madge, she wasn’t the kind of person who would spill secrets.

“It’s not that I don’t like the song it’s a fun one, I just can’t picture anyone who’s lived in Twelve writing something like that unironically.”

Madge shrugged, lowering her voice, “Maybe… maybe it was written before Twelve was a thing.”

Katniss turned to her, surprised by the comment. It was far from being Anti-Capitol but it still had an underline of danger to it, mentioning a time before.

She slowly smirked, “Maybe it was.”

They parted ways two blocks down, Katniss peeking into the napkin as she made her way through the Seam.

Had it been a thin slice, she would’ve just given it to Prim, but the slice was just thick enough that both she and her mom could also take a few bites.

As soon as she opened the door of her house, Prim and her mom perked up from where they’d been preparing pastes and solutions at the kitchen table.

Prim smiled, “How’d it go?”

Katniss just held up the napkin, “Who wants a little cake?”

She carefully unwrapped it, Prim in awe of the decorations and insisting on splitting it into three equal parts leaving each with three bites of mouth-watering spongy bread with the tiniest bit of milk in it and different colored decorations.

Prim handed her mom a plate with two purple flowers, choosing pink ones for herself, and to Katniss she handed her one with three flowers.

She looked at the delicate frosted flowers.

Orange. Peeta’s favorite color.

“So tell us.” Her mom started as she lifted a jar to inspect the consistency of one of her concoctions, “How was it?”

Katniss plucked the frosted flower from the frosting, carefully setting it on her plate, unable to bear the thought of crushing it instantly, “It was good… I actually enjoyed it quite a bit.”

Her mom gave her a small smile, “That’s good. Maybe you’ll get more requests soon.”

Katniss just nodded along as she took her first bite of cake.

—————————————

Context: this is the outfit I have in mind for this part

And also, maybe Katniss is a bit too friendly but in my mind she’s still wary of Peeta but she’s been curious about him for too long and he has a way of just getting her and I love them

also also also, this is the outfit I pictured for part 1

#the hunger games #the covey #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #delly cartwright #madge undersee #gale hawthorne #Katniss is covey #Katniss as covey #lucy gray baird #everlark #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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