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versupital · 6 months ago

Text

PONYTAIL.

JJK HALLOWEEN! gojoxreader

SUMMARY ❥ you have a huge, embarrassing crush on the star of the jockey team on campus. you thought you’d kept it low key, ‘till he approaches you at a halloween party, and shows you that the mechanical bull isn’t the only thing you can ride.

CONTENT ❥ collegestudent!gojo, smut, unprotected, slight breeding kink mention, college!au, athlete!reader, afab!reader, athlete!gojo, drug/alcohol use, spit kink, switch!gojo, switch!reader, masochism, sadism, aftercare, car sex.

song inspo: can’t get enough - j. cole

WC: [8.1K] MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Crisp fall air brings out the gooseflesh among your skin; hair that's not there trying to rise at the thrill of tonight's festivities. The sidewalks are packed to the brim of frat boys, sorority sisters, general slackers and... even an alumni or two. So many people to choose from, you think.

Everyone’s in costume; faces concealed by masks, clouds of smoke mixing with the breeze, and overstimulating noises from animatronics. The holidays were here. You should be trying to find a relationship, to cuddle you through the cold, but right now you just want to bone.

"Where do we even start?" you hear your friend ask from behind you, as your whole group walks - stumbles, more like - down the middle of a road that has been closed to through traffic.

"Whatever house has the most fine men standing outside," your other friend answers with a grin.

You agree, because you had already shot down a fair amount of Don Julio - and the heat of the drink had travelled straight to your core, a small throb arising in your cunt the more you glance around and see the variations of muscles poking out from underneath masked strangers’ costumes. You’d easily find the satisfaction to your hunger, but you’re impatient.

You hum longingly as your eyes fixate on a crowd outside of a large house, painted black. There’s fog rolling over the lawn, but that’s not what draws you in; it’s the group of men deep into a drinking game out front.

Without warning your friends, you beeline over. You wonder if any of them are as needy as you feel right now. The liquor alone could not justify the painful feeling of heat all throughout your nerves; it was mostly your hormones. Pathetic, you tell yourself, so incredibly ready to sit down on someone’s cock.

As your friends follow you down the pathway to the large house, you feel several pairs of eyes stick to you like bologna on hot asphalt. That's right; you and your girls are just pieces of meat dangling in front of a den of lions.

You're not surprised, though, because you’re in a brown leather brazier, accentuated by puffy white sleeves that hang off your shoulders, tucked into a skirt. You have a whip on your hip, and your boots are up to your fishnet-covered knees - one of which leads to the garter holding a toy gun against your thick thigh; to add, it shoots out a little pow flag when you pull the trigger.

And it's clearly mesmerizing in the way that you wear it well, walking right into the party with your liquid confidence through the roof, aware of one of your friends falling behind to entertain someone who had called out to her.

Once inside the belly of the beast, you're farther away from the center of attention; it seems that everyone on campus had read your mind about picking this particular house to step into. It made sense; the house was huge outside, but even bigger within.

The room is littered with men and women alike; most sloppily grinding on one another on the edges of the room, others filling their noses with bad things, but above all: you notice there are cheers coming from somewhere in the center.

You realize why as you part through the crowd, dusting your friends to see what the excitement is. And when you see it, you feel yourself grow both confused and aroused.

There, under a bright red spotlight, is an entire brown and white mechanical bull. Somehow, it had fit into this massive room, and there’s still plenty of room leftover for the influx of students. You're as impressed as the rest of the group, who watch as an ebony-haired man lacking a costume walks around to check the plugs on the bull, and bleakly instructs everyone to take several steps back.

Bass had been booming under your feet, competing with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, but it’s slowly fading away now; a voice travels over the remaining bustling.

Everyone seems to freeze as out from the crowd walks a tall, lean individual with powdery skin. He's wearing something similar to you: a black button-down shirt, leather pants, and brown boots, but most importantly - you feel your breath hitch when your eyes land on the delicious black Stetson that rests atop his contrasted snowy locks.

You feel mixed things blossoming in your chest: unease, desire, and… embarrassment.

You’ve been completely obsessed with the boy in the Stetson for months. Satoru, ‘Toru, and Gojo all being the names he answered to. You’d hopelessly pined over this Satoru, each time noting in your mind just how attractive you find him. He’s on the jockey team; you always see him in a tight, white riding suit with his helmet perched against his hip. You’re the soccer team captain, so you share a field for practice, and, well… Satoru doesn’t make it any easier for you to lock in while you train.

Your friends had noticed your infatuation and would giggle about him to you, saying how you looked like a cockdrunk puppy when he would kick himself on top of the horses - all of the muscles in his legs and arms moving underneath the skin you desperately wanted to crawl into.

He managed to pour gasoline directly onto your fire the first time he’d bumped into you on your way to the locker rooms.

“Careful, ponytail,” he’d said, a smug wink fluttering from his eye.

Then it happened again. And again. Each time you bumped into one another, he barely said two words to you, never seeming to truly notice you or take you in. This didn’t stop you from wearing your hair in a ponytail every single time, though.

He would likely not even recognize you now, given your costume and heavy finesse of makeup, a striking contrast to the sweat sticking your hair to your forehead and your muddy soccer jersey every time he’d seen you in the past. But you knew you recognized him, given the way your body was already responding to his presence.

"Alright now, y’all can't all be this shy," Satoru’s horrible attempt at a country accent booms into the crowd, gesturing wildly to the mechanical animal. "Anyone wanna be the guinea pig? Someone's gotta. I'm definitely not doing it."

A bit of laughter erupts but yet, the crowd remains still. You notice people trying to egg their friends on to test it out, but no one is either drunk or brave enough yet. Satoru continues to glare around the room, walking slowly as the spurs on his boots clack against the hardwood floor, as if he is genuinely a westerner interrogating everyone.

You suddenly feel a gush of pressure hit your back, and four hands send you lurching forward, causing you to accidentally step out beyond the crowd and into the center of the room with the snow-haired man. You exclaim loudly and your friends cheer, which prompts him to turn and look at the commotion.

"Well," Satoru’s velvety voice says, lowering his eyelids into a heated squint. "Seems we have a winner."

His lips disappear as they tuck in to wet themselves, and when they pop back out they are glistening under the red light. Though you cannot see his eyes under the harsh lighting, you can feel them, as well as the heat traveling up through your belly. You wonder then if he might possibly be remembering you.

No way, you tell yourself.

You attempt to turn and look at your friends, who are no doubt giggling endlessly at their little prank, but your head hardly cocks to the side when your hand is being grabbed by a larger, warm one.

You instantly look in the direction of it, your eyes traveling up your arm in disbelief, only to find Satoru is smirking at you.

"N-No, this was a mistake," you try to argue, but he is already gently coursing you towards his body, and your legs feel like jelly as you mindlessly obey like a little doll.

"Don't be afraid," he murmurs to you, hypnotizing you with his voice as he walks backwards, guiding you right to the steps that will allow you to get onto the bull. "You look like..." he pauses, cocking his head to the side and your heart drops, "you'd know how to hang on, no? You've got those strong legs."

You let out a breath. He still doesn’t recognize you. But you know he is referring to your thighs, which are on the larger side from all of the exercise you do for soccer. He's right, you do have the strength to keep yourself on the bull, but whether you want to do it in front of everyone remains to be seen.

"My friends pushed me forward," you blurt out, "I-I really… don't think I can do this."

His voice has lowered by now. It seems like he wants only you to hear him. Not that it mattered, as the crowd is still quite loud and so is the music thumping from another area of the house.

"I think you can," he responds, dipping his head forward like a proper cowboy, feeding into the twisted little costume he’s in. "My name is Satoru, but you can call me ‘Toru. What's yours, madam?"

You almost blurt that you already knew his name, but catch yourself.

"It's Y/N," you say bleakly, knowing he’s only asking to tell the crowd, not because he is interested in knowing who “ponytail” really is.

Not that he has indicated at all that he remembers you, which makes a little twinge of jealousy poke you in the heart because of the way he was looking at you. He must look at every woman like this.

"Y/N," he repeats slowly, as if memorizing the name, simultaneously gliding his piercing eyes down your body again and stopping briefly on your leg — the one with the gun strapped to it. "Give us a show, pretty girl. I think everyone is looking forward to this."

You'd reached the steps to the bull. You begin to suspect that Satoru is the “everyone” in question. You want to try and fight him more, but something about his voice, his unhindered belief in you despite being a total stranger caused you to want to prove him right.

You can do it, you can ride it and not fall off, no matter how intense the settings.

One final look at him, and you release your hand from his, realizing the two of you had been standing there holding hands this entire time. He broke away, but not before giving you another look that might as well have had fire attached to it in the way it sent searing erotica up your body. You’re disgusted at just how awfully, hopelessly, desperately in love with him you are.

The crowd had been falling more quiet as you approached the chopping block, it felt like. But now, it's returned to cheers and whooping as you get on your tip-toes and sling one leg over the side of the bull, your skirt bunching up around your hips.

You spot your friends, who have acquired more drinks; colorful green and purple ones. They lift their cups when they notice your eye contact, and make kissy-faces as encouragement. Or perhaps they’re making fun of your obvious puppy-like expression every time you so much as look at Satoru.

"Alright everyone," he announces suddenly, clapping his hands before walking around to the front of the bull and patting its headless neck. "Y/N has bravely stepped up to the plate tonight. Since you’re all too pussy.” Laughter from the crowd. “Let's see how long she can last."

He turns and looks up at you, dropping an eyelid down into a familiar wink and clicking his tongue.

An irritating piece of man, he is. He doesn’t have to be so damn gorgeous, easily distracting you as you grip onto the reigns around the bull's nonexistent neck, all the confidence draining smooth out of your mind.

You don't have time to think about it much more because of the sheer level of noise that erupts from the room; the crowd has erupted into whoops and whistles, music’s blasting around you. A good old fashioned hype party song, that has prompted the crowd to lose their mind.

The red light makes it hard to see much of anything beyond the first row of people, which is helpful for your nerves, but it also means that since Satoru is standing the closest to you and the bull, he is the only thing you can clearly see, as he presses the button to trigger the ride.

You gasp as it begins vibrating, something you had not expected to happen. The bull jerks to the side, before the rear end perks up, knocking you plain forward and winding you. Your breasts bounce upward and the crowd oo’s.

Satoru smugly continues to operate the bull, keeping it slow as he courses it to knock forward and back, forward and back. You sit back up, trying to defeat gravity, your grip still strong on the reigns. But little do you know that you’ve been out of control since you stepped on the floor. Satoru’s taking his precious time sinking his claws into you.

Your thighs dig into the side of the bull and Satoru spins you, jerking up the rear again; the force knocks your skirt up.

You gasp, wanting to let go of the rope to adjust it, but you know you’re going to fall off if you do. You've made a vow that you cannot fall in front of Satoru, no matter how far he pushes you to your limit. Besides, you figure, having your ass our in front of him wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The crowd cheers, realizing Satoru is operating the machine solely for their gaze, and not necessarily to challenge you.

But you have yet to put that puzzle piece together.

You continue innocently focusing on staying up, but make the mistake of looking at Satoru again. He's looking up at you from beneath his eyelashes, his top teeth poking out as he tugs on his bottom lip with them.

"Doin' so good," he mouths, pushing at the the controls again.

You groan a bit, the vibration of the bull suddenly feeling even more intense, though it's likely just a combination of your imagination and the tequila.

Your head falls back as the bull begins to move in a galloping motion. More cheers erupt, and a darkening gaze is shot from Satoru that you can't see with your head tilted.

The vibrations shouldn't feel this good, you think. You start to feel embarrassed at the thought of getting wetter on top of this bull, in front of all these people, but you can't help it; your eyes flutter closed as you try to focus beyond the pleasure.

Satoru is drinking up the sight like a glass of water in the middle of the night. He can see his effect working more and more on you, your thigh muscles flexing harder as you dig them deeper into the side of the bull. You must not think anyone notices, but he can. A sick fuck he was to currently be jealous of a literal robot.

You suddenly spring your eyelids apart and cry to Satoru that you have to stop. You can't handle the ecstasy creeping up on you, your embarrassment outweighing your desire to prove yourself a strong bullrider. If he keeps operating like this, you’ll cum all over the back of the bull.

Satoru looks hesitant but he ultimately stops the ride, and you take a deep breath when the vibrations come to a halt. The bull steadies and you loosen your thigh muscles.

Despite feeling like a failure, the crowd cheers anyway; you were up there for what felt like a lifetime, but realistically it hadn't been long, and you were expecting people to clown on you for not lasting. It's not like you couldn't stay up; it was more like you couldn't hold your pathetic desire to bone the cowboy at bay.

Satoru comes around and helps you down, the same routine as before with his hand in yours, only this time you're putting some weight on him as you feel yourself struggling to stand with your legs apart.

"You did so good, pretty girl," he coos, not even phased by your body weight. "Rode so well. Thighs a bit sore now I bet, hm?"

You feel your stomach knotting up at his word choice. "A bit," you answer grimly. "The vibrating didn't help."

"Really," he drawls, not even attempting to make it sound like a question. "How so?"

You begin to suspect he knows exactly how. His hands have found your elbows, his arms wrapped around you to keep you steady, and you find yourselves in a darker corner of the room with a convenient lack of a crowd. You blink and the bull seems a great distance away. No one is looking for you, either.

"Doesn't matter," you huff, looking at the floor. "It's embarrassing to say."

"Say it," Satoru purrs, taking your hands in his before placing them both right over his chest pecs. "Tell me what it did to you, hm? Maybe I can help, ponytail.”

You gasp then, your eyes immediately shooting up to meet his face. You almost fall over at the idea that he knows who you are, that he’s recognized you. This means that now he absolutely cannot fix what the bull had done to your poor cunt, although... with the way he's eating you alive with his pupils alone, your morality wants to fly right out of the window and beg him to fix it.

"Made me so horny," you breathe, immediately smacking yourself in the mouth at the coercion of your confession. “Th-That is not what I meant to say.”

Satoru's chest shakes against your palms as he laughs, "Adorable. Got all hot and bothered from a bull ride? Should’ve known that’s all it would take.”

Your face heats immediately. "I've been drinking," you admit with a slur, sinking farther away from sobriety. "Normally it-it’s not that easy.”

You laugh, trying to mask it as a joke, but Satoru's face is dangerously still.

“It is,” he murmured, “you always have the same little expression on your face at practice, just from seeing me.”

You want to be embarrassed that he’d caught you. But right now, your darkest, perverted fantasies are coming alive right before you; and you’d be a fool not to feed into them.

"Because..." you breathe out, feeling your back hit a wall, unsure how you ended up here. "Why do you always look so good?"

"Been thinking the same thing," he mewls, leaning over you with his hands still holding yours to his body. He lets them go then, and puts his own flat against the wall on either side of you. "Got up there and rode the bull like a champ - you can imagine what it did to me."

"What could a perfect stranger have done?” you whisper, knowing, begging, wanting the answer to be something raunchy and wet in your ear.

Instead, in a flash, his rock-solid pelvis is digging into your stomach, and he twists his hips to allow you to feel the even more solid length under his leather pants.

"We’re not strangers, ponytail," Satoru hums in your ear, just like you’d wanted; warm breath traveling through your hair and down your neck. “Always see you eyein’ me on the field. Goin’ outta ya way to knock into me afterwards. Been at this for months.”

You can't help the little whine that escapes your mouth. Your cunt had been pulsing all night, but now you can almost hear it. It's screaming at you to slide your hands down his body, to reach the waist band of the leather on his pants and then dare to explore further—

His gasp takes you out of your clouded fantasy, as you realize it's not a fantasy at all. Your hand is resting cutely over his bulge. You had been acting on your twisted, unwarranted desires from weeks ago all along.

"Ngh, knew I chose the right costume," he murmurs in your ear. "Knew it’d finally get your attention, get you to wanna ride me.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’d been caught, being so obviously needy. You wish you can say you’re embarrassed, but when your hand doesn’t immediately move away from his dick, you know you’re fucked.

You feel yourself shuddering, your hands moving from his waist, over his ribs, passing to his shoulders; your palms sliding over thick, unidentified shapes and running down the curves in his arms. You couldn’t stop, you needed to know what all of him felt like.

“You didn’t have to be a cowboy to get me to ride you,” you whisper, “but if you care about saving horses that much-“

"Hah- shut up," he grunts. "'Fore I take you against this wall. Shouldn’t - hngh - be doing this here.”

“Isn’t this your frat house?” you question. “Take me,” you pause when his gaze darkens, “take me to your r-room.”

He groans, a velvety sound that raises the imaginary hair back up on your neck.

“Not mine, but I’ve got an idea.” He backs away from you, and the cold sensation of his body heat leaving yours makes your heart thump in pain. “C’mon, pretty.”

So he takes your hand again, and again you let him lead you around like a little pony. You don’t see your friends anymore, but you imagine the groupchat is blowing up. They no doubt saw you disappear into the shadows with Satoru.

You manage to escape to the outside without so much as a second glance from anyone, as you’ve started a riot for a turn on the mechanical bull. The memory of riding it seems so distant now.

“So tell me,” Satoru begins suddenly, pulling you hard against him, and you stumble before he puts a hand on your waist to steady you. “Just how long did you intend to keep watching me? Makin’ me all nervous before you made your move?”

You are stunned by his bold line of questioning, but he knows full well how tipsy you are, and that you’re going to answer as honestly as you can.

“I made a move the first time I ran into you,” you squeaked. “Thought you’d take it from there, but guess your balls aren’t big enough.”

This makes him grunt a bit. “If I would have made the first move, you’d still be limping. I don’t like all the small talk.”

“I see,” you purr, “otherwise you wouldn’t be leading me to this field, would ya, ‘Toru?”

“Not a field,” he corrects. “I’m parked back here. What do y’think I am, a serial killer? Wouldn’t just fuck you in the wilderness. ‘Less you asked.”

It had a nice ring to it, but you aren’t quite wasted enough to not care about being seen out in the open like that.

You reach his car and, pretending to be a gentleman, he opens the door for you, and while you sink in, he goes to the trunk. You begin to feel your heart race; you hardly know this man, actually, and maybe you’re stupid for thinking with your cunt instead of your head. Letting him lead you out back, all alone to his car.

Your nerves ease when he joins you in the back seat, nothing more than a bottle of liquor in his hand.

“Think we need to loosen up some more,” he says sternly, unscrewing the cap. “Not that I need alcohol to take care of you, ponytail, but it’ll definitely make things interesting.”

You nod in agreement, knowing you can certainly use more liquid courage. You wait for him to pass you the bottle, but instead you feel chilly fingers connect to your chin, and his thumb courses your face towards his.

“Open those lips f’me,” he murmurs lowly, tilting your chin up towards his face and bringing the liquor bottle closer to yours.

Your eyes widen in realization of what he’s about to do, but the throb between your legs has resurfaced full force at the ghost of a grip he has on your chin.

Hot liquor is sliding down your throat before you even register that you’ve parted your lips. You gasp and close your mouth into a bubble, trying to breathe through your nose as the liquor starts to go down harshly.

Satoru’s watching you intensely, “Don’t swallow it all,” he instructs quickly, to which you find yourself glaring at him.

The interior of your cheeks is going numb, and he’s telling you not to swallow.

What he does next, though, makes your skeleton jump out of your skin and back in again.

He opens his mouth; his long, fat tongue sticking out as far as it will go with a delicate curve in it. He points to his open mouth, while looking at you through his eyelashes.

You feel your face go numb. Your cunt was pounding now, secretion wetting your inner thighs and covering your pussy. You spread your legs a bit, trying to use Satoru’s backseat as something to grind down onto.

You begin doing so as you sit up straight a bit and lean forward, before pushing your cheeks out to spit a steady mix of liquor and your saliva right onto Satoru’s glistening tongue. He hisses immediately, before gripping you by the neck; taking you by surprise when your air flow becomes restricted. Your face is jerked to his as he swallows the liquor you just spit into his mouth, nipping your bottom lip.

“Tastes s’good,” he rasps, “Know you’ll taste even better.”

“But—“ you want to ride him already.

Wanna get him deep in your belly, use your hips to wring more of those deep moans from the depths of his throat. You don’t know if you can wait for that.

“But what?” Satoru challenges, applying pressure to your massive thighs with his palms. “Y’should know by now you can trust me. Didn’t I take care of you on the bull?”

He slides his finger up your stomach and to the cups of your brazier, tucking the tip of the digit inside and tugging the material down, a nipple begging to be exposed.

“Had it vibrating as hard as it could,” he continues, cocking his head to the side, careful not to let his Stetson slide off. “Still can’t get you riding it like that outta my head. Fuck.” He hisses again and—

Crack!

His hand comes down hard on your thigh, pulling a pathetic cry out of you. You look up at him through your lashes; he’s so beautiful with the way the moonlight casts a glow along his jaw, his wet lips, and the brim of his Stetson.

“Quit looking at me like that,” he says, creeping closer to you.

“Make me,” you mouth brattily, and so he does.

Keeping his hands both occupied on your thigh and your throat, he finally crashes his desperate lips against yours, creating harsh reverberations through your teeth. He starts the kiss off hard and unsure, but once you’re kissing him back, the kisses get sloppy, ferocious, desperate.

You let out a whimper against his lips, and in the split second your mouth is open his tongue has made its way inside. The muscle clashes with yours, drenching your mouth in his saliva as he takes your tongue for his own.

Meanwhile, his hand has left your throat. It’s back on the trim of your brazier, and without warning, his fingers gives it a harsh tug and your breasts are out.

He doesn’t break away from the kiss but he does glance down and start palming the meat of your chest, pinching one nipple between his index and thumb.

Not much noise is made besides your shared frustrated grunts as he breaks away from your sloppy kiss, leaving his drool all over your mouth and chin as he dips his charming head down to latch onto your nipple.

He pulls one of your legs up onto his lap, as he nestles himself next to the other one, now between your legs, and you’re forced to lean back against the window and press your hand against the back of the passenger seat for balance.

Satoru is not showing your breasts any mercy. His hand glides across the skin on your leg, before he takes his fingers in a walking motion up your thigh and then quickly grabs your tits into each hand, gathering large loads of spit and hacking them onto your chest, the glorious sound of the fluid hitting your skin making you wetter and wetter and—

He takes a big hand and pop! smacks your achingly solid nipple, dragging a loud, embarrassing cry from you.

“S-Satoru—“ you moan, undecided if you want to tell him that it’s too much.

“Hmm?” he questions, the word coming out muffled as he now has a mouth full of breast again, his tongue swirling greedily over your areolas and sending signals to your tingling nerves.

“S’alot,” you stutter, “feels t-too good.”

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, pulling away from your chest and bringing his face back up to yours, “not finished with you. Not even close.”

You whine as he cracks a smack on your tit one more time for good measure. Now he’s pulling your legs, causing you to lose balance and fall onto your back.

The back seat is spacious, but you think there’s no way he’s going to be able to bend his body to do whatever he thinks he’s about to do.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking like you, though, because his hands hike up your skirt and he hisses at the sight of your panties, not even hesitating.

“S’cute, look at the little cherry,” he grins seductively, poking the fat of your pussy with a sharp finger.

He’s referring to the pattern on the front of your tiny white thong, but you’re hardly paying attention because your mind is still ringing at his sudden contact with your cunt.

Rip!

His hands are tearing apart your poor little fishnets, paving a way for him to get your panties off. He succeeds, struggling a bit to get them past your boots; folding your knees up to your face as he does so, commenting on your flexibility.

“Hah- I love athletic girls,” he says aloud. “So flexible. Gonna have your ankles by your ears, ponytail.”

You squirm underneath him at his threat, but he’s already pinning your legs up, your boots grazing across the ceiling of his car as he stares down at your glinting pussy - dripping all over his expensive white leather.

If the alcohol wasn’t currently hitting you like a train - your brain mushing and swirling from being slapped and pushed around - you’d be trying to force your legs closed to hide from him.

“Such a fucking pretty pussy,” he grits out, leaning forward and shooting a collection of spit out of his mouth right onto it. Your eyes roll, the warmth of his body fluid landing right over your clit, making the bottom half of your body twitch. Satoru grins.

“Don’t even need my spit, y’so wet; I just love the way it looks on you,” he murmurs, keeping his hands firm on the underside of your thighs, “‘M gonna mark you with all my fluids, pretty.”

“Shut up,” you cry out, “if you’re still talkin’ it means your face isn’t stuffed with pussy.”

“Mm, ponytail gets fiesty,” Satoru looks at you from between your thighs and bites his lip, “there’s no fun in rushing right into these things, you know.”

He turns his head to the side, still wearing his Stetson - it’s somehow managing to hang on through all of the filth - and he plants a soft little kiss to your inner knee. Then another to the other leg. He rinses and repeats this process until he’s far up your thighs, and you can feel his breath dancing over your dripping hole.

“F-fuck,” you scream out, getting more frustrated, “‘m gonna shove your face if you don’t stop.”

“Try,” he challenges, but his eyes say that if you do, you’ll be teased for even longer.

"Wh-Why are you doing this to me?" you pant, ramming your knee into his rib playfully.

"Cause truthfully," he says lowly, "I liked the little game we had going. Building up the tension. Hate to see it end..." he drags his finger down the side of your thigh, making you shiver. "And hmm, you are such a pretty girl, begging like this. Imagine if your teammates knew that their beast of a captain was in the backseat of a car, begging to have her pussy eaten? Imagine!”

His breath tickles your cunt as he cracks a mean laugh, his head tilted down so that you can’t see his expression under his hat.

You swallow in embarrassment. You always go for a little teasing, but this is extreme. Before you know it, your hand has popped out before you, and your fingers splay out over the cowhide of his Stetson as you push - hard - and push until his arrogant little mouth is against your pussy.

He’s shut up instantly, groaning softly against your skin as his tongue darts out on instinct, lapping up your juices.

“That’s right,” you whisper with ache in your voice, “shut up and eat that shit.”

Your head lolls back against the window panel in Satoru’s car. He’s not even bothering to argue with you now, lost in his own heaven of your delicious nectar. If you could see past his hat you’d be able to watch as his face becomes wet and shiny, as your secretion dribbles down his chin in a heavenly mix of saliva. His tongue drags down between your folds, making you squirm, but it’s nothing compared to when he shoves his tongue right into your wanton hole.

The cry you let out vibrates against the interior of the car. Satoru’s hand has come up underneath your thigh, pulling your leg to rest across his back as he’s slid down into a crouch on the floor. His hand cracks down on your leg in the same spot as before, this time digging his fingernails down into the flesh after the slap.

You hiss, but ultimately feel even more turned on as he drags his tongue back through your juices, finding your clit, narrowing it out as he flicks it back and forth, back and forth, the same way he had been rocking you on that damned bull.

“S-Such a fucking mess,” he moans against your skin, trying to catch all of your secretion but it’s impossible with the way he keeps eating you - you’re flooding the seat, your inner thighs, and his smug little pale face. “Tastes so good. Can’t imagine how good you taste after a long game, fuck.”

You furrow your eyebrows embarrassingly at the the thought of what he was implying - your cunt all sweaty after soccer and he’d prefer that over this? You want to shudder in disgust but, picturing yourself hiked up on the wall with your soccer shorts discarded, a leg over his shoulder as Satoru ate you alive like this - works you up more than you figure you can even get at this point.

“S-Satoru,” you whimper, feeling the pool of heat twist up your insides as the familiar feeling of ejaculation creeps up on you.

You reach and grab his hat, digging your fingers into the leather, your legs clenching against his cheeks as you try to control the shaking that you know is to overcome you the second you orgasm.

“I know that sound,” Satoru purrs against your clit, “cum for me baby. Cum all over my tongue, like y’been wanting to for months.”

That’s all it takes. And god, Satoru does not show mercy as the wave starts at your clit and pushes all the way through your body, down to your curling toes in your boots and up to your nipples, which are still dancing free over the rim of your brazier.

The shakes come quickly, intensely, harsher than you’ve ever felt them before, as Satoru’s tongue rides out your high for you, not stopping until you’re just slightly twitching.

“Beautiful,” he hums, parting his mouth from you and sitting up in the backseat. “Satoru one, Y/N zero.”

You frown at his use of scoring, knowing it’s just to get under your skin.

“I’ll even out the score, fuck you,” you hiss.

“Please do, ponytail,” Satoru grins.

You find yourself pulling your legs back quickly, your thighs still a little weak and shaky as you sit up on your knees. You quickly unzip your boots and toss them somewhere in the front. Then, you grab Satoru by his ungodly black button-down and drag him to the middle of the seat.

He’s looking up at you in a mix of awe and smug, but you’re trying to pretend you don’t feel his eyes on you so that you may maintain your confidence.

You throw your right leg over his waist. Now, you’re straddling him, bare cunt over warm leather, dragging all of your juice and cream over his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind.

You fumble between your legs to unbutton his pants and then unzip them. He assists you when he raises his hips for a second, allowing you to get his pants down just enough that his bulge is pressing against you through his boxers.

He’s looking up at you with slanted eyelids, his pupils blown to black with the rim of ice-blue hardly visible. He’s clearly so tipsy, just off of the little bit you’d spit into his mouth, meanwhile your body is hot and your vision is getting blurry, nothing on your mind except getting his cock inside of you.

But oh, he deserves the teasing he’d given you. You use your hand to palm him, but simultaneously drag your hips over his lap, your sensitive cunt twitching as you do so.

His head falls back, his Adam’s apple thumping gloriously in his throat. His eyes flutter closed but only briefly.

“Fuck- shit,” he groans. “‘M sorry ‘bout the teasing, ‘kay? Want you to take advantage of me already. F-fuck, please-“

His begging is so delicious. If he thinks this is going to decrease the teasing you’re bestowing upon him, he has another thing coming.

Probably you.

“Oh?” you hum, giggling. “What’s that? Satoru begging now? How the tables have turned…”

He groans again, “S-Sick, innit? The way I want to be balls deep in that wet ass cunt. Don’t wanna wait anymore. You’ve kept me dangling for so long. Please-“

He whines. He actually whines, followed by a low whimper as he pokes out his bottom lip and lifts his head to look at you again.

A smart move on his part because you are absolutely hypnotized by his eyes, and before you know it, your hand is passing the elastic band on his black boxers. You find your hand running over bare skin - what a slut, he’d shaved. You gasp as you continue to slide your hand down to try and grab his tip - but it’s not there. It’s so far deep into his pants because he’s simply that large.

You scoot back on his lap a bit and finally whip his cock out, and it bounces a bit at its own sheer heft. There’s a pretty curve in it and thick veins swirling the sides, leading to a fat pink tip.

You realize you’ve been staring, but also slowly stroking it, admiring the fuck out of this perfect cock that you knew you would be thinking about for weeks.

“Like what you - hah - s-see?” he coos, closing one eye and glancing down at your hand sliding delicately over his length with his other.

“Mhmm,” you reply, “just imagining how good it’s gonna hurt. Your cock gonna make me cry, ‘Toru?”

“F-Fuck yeah,” he shudders, “gonna have you screaming, pretty. Loud as you want - no one can hear. Need you to milk this cock.”

“S-Shut up,” you groan, only because his words were driving you mad - and you would not last even another sixty seconds without his length penetrating your poor insides.

But, you suddenly remember the whip on your waist. Albeit made out of a cheap, rope-like material, the gears in your head start twisting like the delinquent that you are.

You catch Satoru’s wondering eye as he silently asks you why you aren’t bouncing on his cock yet - but you manage to ignore the expression as you thwip out the long black prop and quickly get it around Satoru’s neck before he can so much as gasp in surprise.

His eyes widen when he realizes you’ve made a leash out of your whip, tightening it at the base of his throat and coiling it around your wrist, bringing his face closer to you.

He’s so stunned that he remains silent, but his plump lips are parted in surprise, which you take as an opportunity to bite into the bottom one - harshly.

You suck on it as you lift your hips and your free hand finds the base of his cock - then you slide it between your folds very purposefully and agonizingly slow.

“Holy fuck,” Satoru whimpers against your mouth. “Y’doing me so dirty, Y/N, fucking ruining me. God…” he adds, “I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

You gasp at the confession, and then at the feeling of his tip pushing into your dripping hole, as you drag your hips down to sink yourself onto him.

His eyes immediately roll back, and you let go of his lip, keeping your grip on the whip as your pussy adjusts to his size - feeling the drumming pulse coming from his veins tap your walls erotically.

You try not to clench, but as you suspected, it hurts so good - you’re trying not to focus on the pain. But he’s just so thick, so filling.

You whimper and in the same moment, feel a coil of fingers wrapping into your hair, curling it around his knuckles to keep you from moving your head.

“Ride this shit,” he growls, his eyes suddenly back open and completely aware. “Put those sexy ass hips to use.”

He grips one with his free hand for emphasis, tightening his grip on your hair, suddenly making you wish you’d opted for the ponytail tonight. You cry out at the mixes of searing pain and pleasure, as you’ve managed to take all of his cock inside of you - his tip kissing your cervix painfully. You decide now you can try to move, so you use your toes to push yourself back up, finding your pace.

“It’s too big,” you complain, albeit very fakely; your grip on the whip turning your knuckles white as it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself.

Your other hand digs into his shoulder, and he hisses.

“Nuh-uh,” he coos, “you can take it, pretty. Deep breaths, know you can be a good cockwarmer f’me.”

Your breaths are coming out in short little pants. Slowly you’re adjusting to his size, and with you slicking up his cock it’s easy to start gliding sinfully up and down, up and down-

Satoru leans forward against your restraint and greedily takes your mouth onto his. He squeezes your hip harshly to get you to moan, then shoves his tongue hungrily inside your mouth. While his tongue works on harassing yours, his cock works on bruising your uterus. You’re bouncing quicker now, but he’s meeting you halfway with animalistic thrusts of his own.

Aside from heavy breathing, the squelching sound of your wet walls against his dick accompany the clapping of your ass against his groin. You start rotating your hips, bringing one forward before the other, creating a wave-like motion as you ride your slutty little half-horse into oblivion.

His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes shut tight, his mouth only hanging onto yours by his teeth as he continues to whine into the air. You yourself have gone up a few octaves, your moans competing with his, making the atmosphere even more erotic.

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru moans, “s’tight. S’good. Such a perfect fucking pussy, fits right over me. This shit was designed just f’me. Fuck, wh-why you fuckin’ me like this?” He shudders under you, releasing your lip from his teeth and opening his eyes. “Y’must want my fuckin’ babies, all in your stomach.”

Your eyes roll back as you repeat a very sultry, “All in my stomach.”

So cockdrunk off him, if he wants to fill you to the brim you’ll let him. You’ll let him have his way with you however he wants, at this moment, if it meant he’d keep fucking up into you this good - if it meant you could have his cock more than just tonight. You’d never wanted to obey and be so good for someone before now.

“You are being so good,” Satoru purrs, which makes you realize you said the last sentence aloud. “My pretty ponytail. Taking me so well. I know it hurts, baby, but you got it. You can have all of my cock - anytime you want. I-I’m…” he had been speaking clearly, but a particular thrust had made him lose his footing, bringing back his tipsy voice, “I-I’m yours to use. To ruin.”

Your eyebrows furrow, you gasp at the velvety statement. You know he’s just drunk, you are too, but you’re so incredibly fucked. Despite his words, he’ll probably never even look at you again after this, and it pains you deeply. You can’t think about that now though, because heat is rising in your stomach.

“God, Satoru,” you mumble, “keep fucking talking. Keep talking so I can cum all over you. Please, please, f-fuck.”

“Ngh, need you to cum,” Satoru says. “Wanna feel the way you pulse when you cum. Bet you can squirt f’me too, huh? Know you’ve got it, so wet like that.”

You shake your head, your hand loosening the grip on the whip; you just don’t have the strength anymore.

You lean back, arching against him, and he takes the opportunity to pop your breast right into his mouth, gripping onto your nipple with his teeth before he sucks like a starving man.

“P-Please, God… mmph,” you drag out, eyes rolling as you can barely bring yourself to make noise with the overwhelming amount of pleasure you’re experiencing.

But you’re taken by surprise when his hand is suddenly coming away from your hair, and his arms wrap around you in a tight bear hug. Your hand has no choice but to fall from the whip as your own arms wrap behind his neck to steady yourself - and just as you think you’re about to regain balance, Satoru starts mercilessly slamming his hips up into your ass.

“SHIT!” you scream out, the loudest you have since being in the car.

Flap, flap, flap - as he absolutely destroys the inner workings of your slick pussy - determined to bruise your cervix and leave it swollen and aching for him.

“You. Are. Gonna. Cum. For. Me,” he grits, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

You feel tears brimming your eyes; it’s just so good, hurts so bad, you can’t get enough.

You find yourself seeing and saying nothing but his name over and over for the few seconds right before your orgasm, and then your poor body is spasming on top of Satoru’s as he fucks you through your high - your insides clenching and twitching, and then a gush! as your body has decided that an inner orgasm isn’t enough. Satoru was right - you’re squirting all over him, his pants, and the backseat.

His eyes bug out as his eyebrows furrow, taking in the sight of the magnificent pool you’ve left on him.

“So fucking hot,” he moans, “can feel that shit pulsing on me. F-Fuck. My turn—“

This brings him over the edge right along with you. You’ve gone limp against him, leaning your entire torso on his as he maintains his hug on you and squirts his thick ropes of hot cum all into your uterus.

You cannot see anything except white stars in your vision as you’ve lost yourself in recovering from your orgasms, and he’s not bothering to slide himself out of you just yet.

“S-So addicting,” he sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder, his hat finally falling off behind him, revealing the fact that his hair is stuck to his sweat-covered forehead.

His cock is twitching inside of you, but you can’t think about that now. You’re trying to regain your sight as well as the ability to breathe.

You lay there against each other, still filled up. His grip has loosened on you, but his hands are delicately petting the skin between your shoulder blades, his arms not letting you go.

You’re now just trying to catch your breaths, bodies pressed together in a lustful bliss as you come down off of your highs, soberness creeping up on you.

“Was better than my fantasies,” Satoru says softly, his hands still gently roaming the skin on your back.

“Mine too,” you giggle in response, the pants slowly becoming normal breaths again.

Satoru gently tugs on your hair to bring your face back level with his, and looks up at you, as innocent as can be.

“Y’know what this means, right?” he questions, squirming a bit underneath you just to remind you that his cock remains inside of you. “You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. M’gonna need access to this pussy, at least once a week. If not more…” he tapers off before adding, “Only, of course, if you’re up for it.”

“Absolutely!” you squeak out a little too fast, to which Satoru gives you a charming crooked smile and leans forward to peck you on the lips.

“Well then,” he hums, “don’t think we can go back in the party with our cum all over us. Can I offer you a ride home, ponytail?”

You blink down at him. His gentlemanly nature from the party has returned, truly taking you aback, because of the way he was just muttering filth a moment ago.

You took him up on his offer though, legs shaking as you crawled to the front and got your skirt and boots back on. He’d had to exit the car and get back in, his long legs prohibiting him from just crawling to the front.

You can tell he’s sober now, he better have been, otherwise he wasn’t driving you anywhere. But you knew he was when his hand gently rested on the thigh he had abused the entire time, rubbing soft circles to soothe the red handprints he’d left.

You sigh, knowing you’re completely fucked. Hooking up with him was a step in the right direction, but who was to say he’d ever want to be anything more than this? Lots of things to think about, but right now, you just relaxed under his touch as he drove you back to your dorm.

And when you saw him again, it would be at your scrimmage a week later. You’d already filled your girls in on everything, down to the nasty details they’d begged to hear. That’s why they shoved you off the bleachers the minute it appeared that Satoru’s team was done practicing.

Satoru arrived in the hallway right on cue, and you hit him with your customary bump of the shoulder.

“There you are, ponytail,” he mutters, glancing around before gently pulling you into a maintenance closet. “Thought you’d bailed on me.” He presses a fat kiss to your forehead, making your heart flutter. “Been thinking about you all week, need to take some stress out on that pretty pussy.”

You squeak quietly, running your fingers through his hair, missing the way he looked in his Stetson but being able to appreciate his practice attire just the same. His hands find the band of your jersey shorts and begin tugging them down.

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” you coo quietly, your back hitting the wall. “How d’you wanna do this?”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed you on top last time,” he purrs, “but - hah - sometimes, even the cowboys need a break from riding.”

I. AM. SO. FERAL FOR JOCKEY/COWBOY GOJO WTFFF

And he’s such a gentleman STOPP <33

ok this was the most fun thing ive ever written. that’s all bye.

~ pennjammin

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk fanart #cowboy gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #fanfic #smut

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Note

hiii, could you write something about Tom meeting his celebrity crush ( he also maybe said it in an interview) at the Museum Gala? She is a big actress ( maybe did house of the dragon or something). She thinks he is super hot and she has seen the new hunger games movie, so she kinda flirts with him because she knows she is his celebrity crush and he is a nervous wreck. Eventually they start going out and end up dating! Just something about another British Tom manifesting his life LMAO

could you also add some insta posts ? I love this kinda of au! I hope you like this idea

lots of 💋 t!

And They Meet || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: love love this request ty anon 😙

Warnings: none!

Wc: 1,232

Dividers by @pommecita

“Do you have a celebrity crush?” The question caught Tom by surprise as he chuckles, his fingertips tapping on his chin. “I do actually, uh Y/n Y/l/n.” He admits for the first time on camera.

“I watched House of the Dragon the moment it came out and I just fell in love with how she portrayed Alicent Hightower, truly one of the greatest actresses at such a young age,” He smiles like a mad man as he recalls the time he first saw her on screen.

The gorgeous green coloured dress you would wear looked heavenly, and of course, your impeccable acting drew his attention. He binge watched the first season over and over, a smile adorning his lips everytime you would bless his screen with your beauty.

“Have you met her Tom? She’s a lovely person in real life.” The brunette sighs, “Unfortunately I have not, soon hopefully, soon,” He crosses his fingers as he lets out a low chuckle before moving on.

You watch with a grin on your face the interview that mentioned you. After Tom revealed that you were infact, his celebrity crush, you couldn’t help but feel like a giddy high school girl.

The thought that the Tom Blyth took a fancy towards you was mind blowing, especially since you’ve watched him from afar and admired him for quite some time now. You remember you first saw him on Billy the Kid and thought he was exceptional, and quite attractive.

“You think he would be at the museum gala next month?” You lift your head to Ally, your manager as she thinks. “Most likely, why’s that?” She smirks at you as you roll your eyes jokingly. “Nothing, nothing, just wondering,” You put your hands up in defence.

“Okay you have 10 minutes left,” Ally looks at her watch. You were at The Kelly Clarkson Show about to be interviewed about the upcoming season of the House of the Dragon.

“Y/n, do you have a type? If so, I think your fans would like to know, don’t you?” Kelly winks to the crowd as they erupt into laughter, including yourself. “Physical wise? Most definitely tall, brunette, blue eyes, a nice smile-“ “That sounds a whole lot familiar to a guest I just had a couple days ago….” Kelly teases as your eyes widen.

“Really?” A nervous chuckle leaves your lips, “Yeah, a Mr Tom Blyth happens to fit that description. I also know he mentioned you as his celebrity crush just the other day,” You play with the ring on your finger as you look at Kelly as if it was new news to you.

“Did he really?” You couldn’t help the smile off your face, “I watched the movie the day it came out and I understand the girlies who were rooting for Coryo,” You fan yourself jokingly, “truly understand.” The crowd cheers as you laugh. “I mean, I’m willing to ignore the red flags because he’s just so incredibly good looking!” You were lowkey fangirling.

“I know right!” Kelly agrees, “Tom did such a fantastic job playing young Snow, he really charmed us all,” You grin.

“Do you think she’s going to be at the gala?” Tom lifts his head up, the interview of you at The Kelly Clarkson Show displayed on his phone. “She should be,” His manager says as he smiles to himself, his eyes redirecting to his phone as you continue to talk about House of The Dragon.

Truth be told, after her let the entire world know that your his celebrity crush, he had been basking in the many comments saying how good the two of you would look together. It boosted his ego for sure.

He was hoping he’d finally be able to see you tonight at the museum gala and feed fans content. The second Tom set foot the gala, his eyes wandered around, hoping to see a glimpse of you. "Are you looking for someone Tom?" An interviewer calls out as he chuckles whilst posing for the photographers. "Yes actually," He responds with a shy smile.

Then, he hears loud screaming coming from the entrance as everyone in the gala turns their head towards the noise. And in you walked. Tom was standing in the red carpet section along with other celebrities as you walk towards his way, waving at the cameras along the way.

You wore a beautiful black gown, your hair in curls as the cascade down your back. Tom didn't even realise but he was staring at you, his mouth slightly agape, entranced by your beauty.

Cameras take photos and videos of Tom's reaction to you, it was quite cute. A man who finally got to see his celebrity crush in front of his eyes. Little did he know, you were looking around, hoping to find him.

Your eyes look around the place before you spot Tom, a few metres away from you as your eyes lit up. Abandoning your spot where you were posing for the cameras, you picked up the fabrics of your dress with the help of your assistants and made your way over to him.

It took a few seconds for Tom to realise that you were walking towards his direction. "Tom!" You greet him, going in for a hug as if you had known each other for years. He was slightly taken back but nonetheless hugs you respectfully. "How are you, darling?" He says as you pull back.

The pet name making you blush as you grin at him. You always knew Tom's eyes were blue, but jesus, you didn't realise just exactly how blue they are from up close. "I'm great now that I've finally met you," You chuckle, your hand gripping his bicep as he bites his lip lightly, smiling at you.

"Your eyes are really blue," You blurt out as he laughs, "I get that a lot," "Y/n! Tom! Can we get a picture of the two of you please?" Paparazzi calls out as you and Tom make eye contact, not realising how close your faces were before quickly looking away shyly.

"May I?" He says to you, asking if he could put his hand on your waist. What a gentleman. "Of course," You grin at him as he snakes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip as your arm wraps around his waist.

The two of you looked good, good together. Throughout the night, you and Tom couldn't get away from each other. He was always by your side, even when you were doing interviews, and vice versa. His hand would rest on the small of your back protectively as you two navigated your way around.

Even at the dinner, he was coincidentally seated beside you which made you happy. You even recorded a video for your Instagram story about it and tagged him. The two of you hit it off straight away, exchanging numbers and even planning to meet up in a couple of days.

Being each other's celebrity crush blossomed into even more. Tom asked you to be his girlfriend after a few weeks of seeing each other and fans were going crazy, saying how he manifested it. You and Tom as a couple received so much support from everyone, including those in the acting industry saying how much of a talented young couple you were.

#fanfiction #tom blyth #tomblythfluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x actress!reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth x you #social media #social media au

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delirious-donna · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: The Perfect Home

pairing: vamp!Kakashi Hatake x female reader

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

The house was perfect. Love at first sight. A long abandoned stately home would be the perfect place to plant your roots and focus on your writing. There's only one problem... someone already lives there, and he can't wait to meet you.

wc: 3.4k

tw: vampire AU, smut/suggestive throughout, strangers to lovers, talk of blood, minor mention of suicide and parental loss, slight pervert Kakashi, dream sexy times, heavy(ish) petting, this will be the most tame part and I am not sorry for how jam packed full of smut this story will be, reader described as curvy

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Two

Moving would never not be exhausting.

You panted heavily, dropping the box in your arms to the floor with a heavy thud that sent a flurry of ancient dust motes into the air. There were so many boxes still to be moved, and the thought alone pulled a groan of fatigue from your chest.

It would have been so much easier had you chosen a cute little apartment to move into, but no, you had fallen head over heels in love with a musty, dusty old mansion located in the arse end of nowhere. That alone spoke volumes about your personality—your desire to buck the norm and set your own path in life.

Imagination and creativity flowed through your veins like the very blood that continued your existence, and of course, when you came across the dilapidated mansion on one of your evening strolls, it would be love at first sight.

It was difficult to describe the immediate pull you felt towards the building as you gazed longingly at the high arched windows on the top floor, but it was right there in your chest, and you couldn’t deny it. Maybe it was the author in you that resonated with the now empty residence—imaging the place in its glory days and who might have called the place home.

There was no doubt that it had once been a majestic property, and it wasn’t at all hard to picture the gilded edges of the steep roof unbroken and sparkling in the last rays of the setting sun. The dark charcoal of the solid stone walls strong and unblemished and the ornately twisted wrought iron of the balcony railing a pretty addition to lean against and enjoy the summer breeze.

Heavy purple drapes still hung in the windows, and it gave the sense of someone or something wishing to hide from prying eyes despite being abandoned for so many decades.

Curious…

A ‘For Sale’ sign lay slumped against a mighty oak tree that resided just within the fearsome looking gates of the property, appearing as if it had been listed on the market for a considerably lengthy period without any interest.

You had to admit that the wickedly sharp spikes atop the gate might seem unappealing to some, but to you, it was simply another puzzle piece that intrigued you even more. Intrigued enough to pull out the notepad you kept tucked away in your purse for just such times. Normally, you used it to capture bursts of writing inspiration that struck at weird times, tonight you scribbled down the realtor details listed on the sun-bleached board.

When you finally turned to resume your walk home, the mesmerising spell of the house at last breaking enough to release you from your silent gazing, a shadow flitted across your vision from the tallest window. It was gone before you could refocus your gaze, a sharp intake of breath caught in your throat whilst an indescribable sensation swept through you.

It caused the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand to attention, on alert for anything further. The moment dragged on, eyes fixed upon the window in question and your heart thundering in your chest. Was it a trick of the light or was your brain trying to convince you of things that simply were not there?

After the longest time, you moved away but the further you got from the house, the more you felt as if the place tried to call to you—trying to sway you back with a kind of magic you couldn’t comprehend.

The realtor had been rightly dumbfounded with your insistence of purchasing the property without asking for a full tour of the estate. They simply couldn’t realise how hypnotised you were with the place and that there was likely nothing that would sway you away from the decision to own the house.

When they realised you were a cash buyer—an impatient one at that—they became far more accommodating to your wishes.

According to the realtor, the property had previously belonged to the Hatake family, and it had been considered their ancestral home.

The Hatakes were a wealthy family with their hands both firmly into agriculture and the farming of the surrounding lands, dirtied by fertile soil and the sweat of hardwork. Those once rich farmlands now made up much of the nearby metropolis, where nothing fresh or green grew without a planning permit and enough paperwork to drown a person.

They had prospered well over a century and a half ago until a series of tragedies befell the family and ultimately resulted in their demise.

The biggest ink stain on the Hatake history was the tragic life and disappearance of the last born Hatake. The details of which were apparently still largely a mystery in these parts. It was a local story, and one that you had not previously heard of, but the realtor was more than happy to tell the tale for you.

The story went that the son departed the mansion one day after losing his father to suicide and had not returned. His mother had passed away during childbirth and with the only son missing, the house fell into silence and disrepair. Eventually, the bank became the owners by default and the property had stood uninhabited for nearly a century.

How could you not find that intriguing?

From there it was an easy descent into a rabbit hole of theories—considering the potential outcomes of this mysterious missing Hatake and wondering over the details of the apparent suicide of his father.

Your heart tugged for the young man, what a horrific set of events for any person to endure. Part of you could well understand why he may wish to disappear and hoped it hadn’t been as nefarious as the realtor tried to portray.

What you didn’t know at that point, but would soon discover, was that the missing Hatake had long since returned to his family home, and he was more than looking forward to introducing himself to you.

Kakashi Hatake, the rightful heir and owner of this property, paced the cramped room in endless agitation. He was not used to such confined spaces, having previously roamed his home freely since his return. In fact, he loathed to feel trapped. It had a way of bringing up unwanted memories and soured his mood.

His instincts were drowning him in unfamiliar sensations, his physical body reacting to the lone female presence that was so close and yet still so far. His headache only grew brighter behind his eyes whilst he continued to fight against his normal compulsion to rest during the daylight hours—hiding from the sun.

Running a hand through his unruly silver hair, he managed a deep steadying breath to regain his composure. He recalled the rage that had consumed him not even a few hours ago with a tight grimace and barely leashed growl. He was never going to react well to the presence of two men in his home, even if they were only carrying furniture into the various rooms whilst his new guest directed them cheerily.

He had not been pleased by their being there at all, yet he knew it was a necessity of the transition. Despite his best efforts at rationalisation, he continued to direct his awareness to pay close attention to the moving men. His mind was running riot at the mere thought of what perverse things a young female, such as yourself, could fall victim to by their grubby hands if given the chance.

How perfectly hypocritical of him.

The razor-sharp, elongated points of his fangs sank heavily into his bottom lip whilst he contemplated on all the perverse things, he wanted to do to you, and he hopefully would do, soon.

This was one of his favourite fantasies come to life, the pages of his well-thumbed romance novels becoming a reality that he was living, and the thought was a very pleasant one. It shamed him to do so, but Kakashi pressed his palm down on the front of his pants, the fabric far tighter and restricting on his growing erection than he wanted to admit.

He was a monster.

Kakashi’s hunger was practically palpable, nostrils flaring wide as he scented the delicate and intoxicating fragrance of your blood. It wafted easily to him as you wandered your new home, carrying boxes and examining the contents at leisure. Kakashi could only describe it as sweet with a hint of spice, akin to hot honey and he absently licked at his lips. Despite having taken precautions against this very situation, the blood from the previous evening had not been anywhere near sufficient to quell the thirst that was manifesting rapidly.

He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he knew, deep down, that you were somehow different. The realisation did as much to terrify him as it did to excite.

Kakashi was a vampire, an old one at that, and it had been a long time since he felt any sliver of fear. He was the thing to be feared, not some alluring young woman he didn’t even know—yet.

Thinking back to the night where he had first sensed your presence, he let a small smile curl the very corners of his lips. It was intriguing to recall how his body had seemingly moved of its own accord that evening, feet pulling him over to the small gap in the curtained window like a puppet connected to strings made of blood red thread.

A lone figure stood just outside the gate, watching and longing for something… for this house, his house.

Dressed in an oversized hooded sweater and tight navy jeans he had tsked grumpily at the standard of modern fashion. When had tight bodices and skirts with layers upon layers of petticoats gone out of style? A shame, truly.

However, he could at least tell that you were curvy even beneath the baggy material that tried to hide that very fact, and your hips had that lovely roundness that he was particularly fond of.

He hadn’t been ready for you to leave when you first showed signs of departing, a hand reaching out to touch the glass separating you both without thought.

The suggestion had been thrown before he could stop himself. The result, your head whipped back around to stare intently at the window, the one he was watching you from. It was his fault, and he silently cursed at how easily he had been able to steal inside your mind and implant the idea that a shadow had passed through your vision when it had not.

Your name whispered to him in that moment, causing an unbidden grin to widen across his face. You were in love with this house—his home—and Kakashi chuckled quietly whilst planning his next set of moves.

He released your mind without further incident, allowing you to slip into the warm summer evening rather than listening to the urge to pursue you into the darkness as he was his instinct.

Finally, after a gruellingly long day of strenuous work, you threw yourself atop your plush bed. Your back sinking deep into the soft as a marshmallow comforter. It had been one of the very first things you unpacked after assembling your new bed, quickly followed by your toiletries and you silently praised yourself for that genius forethought.

Waves of fatigue hit you at full force, followed by a deep yawn that rattled your ribs. It was going to be a big adjustment going from a pokey little one bed apartment to a large and empty mansion, and most of your friends thought you to be mad to take on such a project but they couldn’t see the potential that you could.

However, one thing you had not fully anticipated was the noises that accompanied the house.

You would swear that the floorboards creaked only to torment you at your most vulnerable moments, and the sound of the old pipes being used for the first time in decades was enough to fray the last of your nerves.

This was far more unnerving than you imagined, a far cry from being scared in your old apartment where in the worst case you could run to the neighbours you trusted. Out here the nearest house was a good ten minutes away by foot, you were alone, and it spooked you.

After a frustratingly tense soak in the beautiful claw-footed porcelain tub in your ensuite bathroom, you exited squeaky clean and no longer smelling of musty curtains. You grabbed the nearest clean clothes you could reach, happy to curl up in anything as long as it was fresh and smelled familiar.

The oversized grey t-shirt covered your underwear and dropped down to your knees, the fabric soft from years of wearing and it smelled like home, a welcome thought on this particular night.

Tomorrow was going to be another full-on day. You needed to rise with the sun if you were to make the most of it for unpacking and the deep clean that many of the rooms needed before they were habitable.

With that in mind, you slid beneath the thick duvet and rubbed your cheek sleepily against the pillows. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you like a coveted possession, and you drifted into a seemingly peaceful slumber.

It would not last…

The sound of your name whispered against the shell of your ear, floating on a wind that whipped softly around your consciousness. It prodded delicately at your sleeping form and watched with glee when you turned to press your face deeper into the pillow, slipping into a dream that would be like no other.

All was dark.

Everything was still and unmoving, a tremor of trepidation rippled through your mind. You became aware of your form quite suddenly, blinking as if out of a dream and into a reality, but you would not be fooled so easily.

Glancing down you could see the oversized shirt you’d pulled on before clambering into bed and your bare toes even lower still, wiggling against a hardwood floor.

You tried to raise your hand, to feel the fabric of your shirt between your fingertips but the action felt heavy… restricted… like wading through thick treacle. Warm breath caressed your neck, jolting you out of your confusion and leaving your heart thundering in your chest. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and you longed to close your eyes, but fear kept them wide and watching.

Again, without warning, a black gloved hand appeared and touched the flare of your hip as if someone stood behind you, yet you couldn’t sense anyone there.

All you could do was watch as the strong fingers pinched the material of your top, much like you had wanted to, until it twisted in their grip. A low grunt of disapproval floated in the air around you, disembodied and clearly irritated, followed by a masculine voice which made your body quiver.

“You should be in satins, silks, lace.”

There was something immediately attraction about the voice, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Yes, you were trembling with fear of the unknown, quaking on the spot, but there was a deep secret part of your psyche that felt a rush of exhilaration.

A quiet hum sounded by your ear, a wave of warm breath fanning over your neck and the gloved hand reappeared higher up your body. The index finger ghosted the curve of your jaw, not touching yet close enough that it almost felt like it was. It was impossible to suppress the whimper leaving your mouth, and it was followed by a request made by the stranger.

“Will you let me… touch you more?” The disembodied voice asked, sounding like hot honey dripping your spine. Just breathless enough that your skin prickled pleasantly.

You swallowed, throat working hard whilst your sensible brain warred with the spontaneous part that demanded, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

A ‘yes’ almost tipped your tongue, if only to find out exactly what might happen, but you had a concession to add firstly. “If you make yourself known, then… yes.”

A chuckle tickled your ear.

You could feel the air behind you ripple with power that felt ancient and foreign, and without turning, you knew there was someone standing there now. It made you antsy, your fingers wriggling in want to reach back and feel what was there. Surely a foolish idea given your inability to run.

“I won’t hurt you, little one. Consider this a safe space, and if you tell me no, I will listen,” he reassured unprompted.

Perhaps he could hear your heart as it ricocheted around your ribcage or feel the itchy tightness in your limbs. Whatever it was, you appreciated the candour and took it for truth, no matter how crazy it was to do so.

The wet muscle of your tongue passed over your lips, wetting them thoroughly and giving your consent with a single nod of your head. It was all it took for the presence at your back to pull you into their chest, hands around your upper arms without exerting pressure, fingertips tracing soothing circles into the skin below the sleeves of your shirt.

He was tall, with a strong chest that you were content to rest against. You had expected his body to feel hot like his breath had on your neck, but he was surprising cool given the circumstances.

His head dipped over the curve of your shoulder and tufts of silver hair entered your periphery. Your eyebrows pinched at the wet marks he left over your neck, seemingly drawn time and again back to the wildly beating thrum of your pulse.

Despite the coolness of his body, his lips were far from cold, and they spread wildfire into your veins without restraint. Never had something felt so wrong but entirely right at the same time.

It took you a long moment to notice that his other arm had wound around your front, the equally gloved hand exploring you with a touch that was as careful as it was eager. Long, slender fingers gripped at your hip, kneading at the curve of your waist, and even dared to drift higher to softly paw at the weight of your breasts.

He continued until your nipples stiffened beneath the thin cotton, your head falling back when he pinched the bud between finger and thumb, the friction intensifying in the pit of your belly.

“I have no doubt that you taste divine.” The stranger whispered against your neck, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Whilst you had always enjoyed stories about faceless strangers luring women into fantasy situations, never had you thought it would be you. You reminded yourself that this was a dream and nothing more, a concoction created by a fatigue addled brain. Yet, it was hard to remember that when you felt as if he was drawing closer and closer to touching you below the waist.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you swayed your hips to press yourself further back into the frame behind you. Ignoring the flare of danger ringing in the back of your mind.

Ringing… right.

Now you thought about it there was a ringing building in your ears.

It was irritating.

An incessant buzz in your head that turned everything around you to static.

You felt him stiffen, a loud exhale of angry breath blowing strands of your hair across your shoulder. His roaming hands paused, and an intimidating growl made you shudder.

“Dammit!” He yelled angrily, and you instinctively knew it was uncharacteristic of your mystery man. “I’ve not had long enough with you…”

There was no time to ponder any of what had happened, or the feeling that you knew this man in some way. Your fingers shot up to wrap around his wrist, a desperate act to hold on but it was like trying catch smoke.

The blaring ring of an alarm clock ripped you from his grasp and back into consciousness. Back into the comfort and safety of your bed.

Blinking and confused as to why you wanted to stay… but where and with who?

#delirious writes #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake smut #vamp au

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lilbitdepressed27 · 9 months ago

Text

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader The Hunger Games AU

Warnings: angst kinda, torture

WC: 4.6k

Author’s note: to the anon who requested it hope you like it and again sorry for the wait. Sorry for any mistakes:)

The quietness of distract 4 was peaceful. You had been in your house. The house you had gotten after winning the 73rd annual game. You had won the game due to luck. It had always been luck when it came down to you in those games. The person you had become in that arena was someone you feared. Someone you hated.

But you had lived. By some miracle. You survived. You won.

"Have you seen the victory tour the winners of last years are doing." Your best friends voice echoed through your art room.

"Not really. But from what I have seen. Their love seems kinda forced." You set down your paint brushes turning around to see your best friend, Anika standing there. She had been your rock in the games. She was the one of the only reasons, you had to fight. She was the only family you had. Apart of your mentor. Who was a lovely elderly woman. Anika was more of sister to you. As soon as you came back home. You had her move in with you.

"Well even if it is. It's what saved their asses. But that's not what I came for. Here." Anika had a smirk on her face as she handed you a letter.

You couldn't fight the smile that formed on your lips as you took the letter. The envelope had one letter.

You already knew who it was from. It had been a week since you last heard from her. With Anika making herself busy. You opened the envelope taking out the letter.

You said in your last letter that what we have is something one wishes for. You are such a sap for that and I love it. I miss you like crazy. It's unfortunate we can't see each other as much as we want. But I always look forward to every single moment we do. S says something is changing. And she's not sure if it's good. But I want you to be careful. I need you safe. I love you.

The letters were always written in a way no one could find suspicious if they were to be found. You had met Tara Carpenter during your own victory tour. You were in distract 3 it had been after you addressed the Daniel of the fallen tributes. It was then when you saw her. She was from distract three and a previous victor. She had caught your eye, it had felt like love at first sight. Something you never believed in until you met her. Ever since then you both had been sending each other letters. On rare occasions seeing each other secretly.

"How is she?"

"She's good. I think the rebellion is a lot more serious than we thought." Folding the letter and putting it back into the envelope. Getting up to lock it in your safe where you kept all her letters.

"Well from what's been shown, especially in district 11. I wouldn't be surprised. Ever since that poor little girl was killed it was like something shifted."

"Yea she's one of many unfortunate kids that had been killed in these stupid games. The way Katniss was in the games has moved the people of the district's. The care and protectiveness she showed for Rue. It was something never been seen in the games." You had remembered seeing the little girl get killed. It had been a heart wrenching moment. She had been too pure for those stupid games.

Anika remembered everything when she watched your games. The 73rd annual games had been different from all the others. Having been set in a snowy environment. Some of the tributes dying from the cold brutal weather. She remembered seeing you scared, you had almost been killed by someone from district 7. She remembers crying wanting to look away from the sight but she couldn't look away. The man from district 7 and you were that last two. She had watched how you fought with everything you had. How you struggled to get him off you. How the knife dug into your shoulder. The scream that ripped from your lips. It was a sound she had never heard before. A sound she would never forget. You were her sister. It was something she would never forget.

A part of her, the selfish part, was glad you no longer had to put your name in the games.

You were sat in your living room with Anika. Watching as the yearly announcement began. Watching as Snow looked at his note cards before looking at camera.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of the hunger games. And it was written in the charter of the games, that every 25 years, there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh for each new generation, the memory of those who died. In the uprising against the capitol. Each quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. And now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd quarter Quell. As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol. On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and Female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."

You felt like the air had been punched out from your lungs. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. It couldn't be. It wasn't fair. You fought so hard the first time, with the promise that if you won, you would never have to step foot in an arena again.

"No. No! You were supposed to be done. It's not fair!"

All you could do was try to comfort your best friend. Knowing that the reaping was what followed.

Standing between Mags and Annie. Previous winners from past games. On the other side of Effie Trinket. Stood Finnick Odir and Dwight Riley. Mags Flanagan was the eldest Victor from district 4. She had been your mentor during your games. A part of you did not want her to go back to those games. You knew deep down that she wouldn't survive. And you knew Annie couldn't. She wouldn't.

A part of you hoped, prayed that Tara's name wasn't called. But you knew better. Not only was Tara's name in a similar bowl. But so was her sisters. Sam's name had been drawn when Tara was too young to volunteer in her sisters place. District 3 was the only district to have two victors be female siblings. If Sam's name was called and Tara would volunteer, there was nothing Sam could do.

"Welcome, welcome as we celebrate, the 75th anniversary and third quarter quill of the hunger games. As always ladies first."

"Mags Flanagan."

You heard Annie's breath hitch. Before she could even do anything, you weren't sure what was going through her mind. You were quicker. Stepping up and looking straight at Effie.

"I volunteer as tribute."

Ignoring the pleading looks from Anika and now Mags.

"Thank you for volunteering for Mags."

You were brought out of your thoughts. Finnick had sat next to you. You knew Finnick cared deeply about Mags. You also knew that the older victor cared about Mags. Mags was a treasure to distract 4. No one wanted her back in games. You sure as hell didn't. You didn't know who else was going to be at the games until you reached the capitol. Part of you hoped. Prayed you didn't see Tara. But then if you didn't see Tara. You'd see her sister. Sam.

"You would have done the same if you could. Have they aired who's going to be in the games?"

"No, you both won't find out until we get to the capital. Now we have to talk it's about what's gonna happen in that arena." Dewey, a victor from district 4 said as he walked into the room. His face showing nothing but determination.

You weren't sure how this was going to happen. You didn't know if this plan was even going to work. But it had to. These games couldn't continue. Seeing how far Snow was going to get rid of Katniss Everdeen it was a show of how much power this man really had. You were in the dressing room with Finnick, the stylist was doing his job with Finnick. You had already been finished. It wouldn't be long before you would have to make your way to the carriages, this tribute parade felt completely different from the first time you were in the games.

While Finnick was getting ready you stepped out of the room. The halls were as could be expected. Busy. Even though the halls were busy the people didn't even give you glimpse which you were thankful for. You need to find the people of district 3. You needed to find either Tara or Sam.

Making your way down the hall, seeing some of the other tributes. Most of them you knew on a more friendly way. Like the female victor from distract 7, Amber Freeman. She was a feisty, but yet brutal.

You were pulled out of your thoughts, quite literally, when someone gripped your wrist and pulled you into a dimly lit room.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" A whisper filled with anger and concern. But it was a voice you missed. A voice a part of you wished you didn't hear. Cause now she was in danger. Even with that plan that had been set. You couldn't help but to pull her in. Taking the short woman into your arms. Missing the warmth she had always gave you. You felt the moment she basically melted in your arms. Her arms wrapping around your bare waist

"I'm still angry you're here. You were supposed to be sa-I'd rather be here with you." You cupped Tara's cheeks. Looking into the dark brown eyes that quickly became your favorite. If Tara was here it meant that she had volunteered for Sam.

"Gosh you're such a sap. But I love you for it." Tara had fallen for you the first time she had met you. From the beginning she had shared a bond with you. Something she had never felt, as happy as she was to be in your arms again. The worry that you will also be in the games had grown. She had to have you by her side. She didn't care about no one else in that arena. Just you. And if she had to kill everyone else so be it. You. You had to live.

The air was tense. You could feel it. The training room was filled with all the tributes. You had separated from Finnick. Remembering the plan. To make allies. All you knew was, for a fact to have Tara by your side. You had to keep her safe. You knew she was capable of taking care of herself, she had been the victor to win the games the quickest. Killing the last tribute by stabbing the tribute from district 9 in his mouth with a knife.

Tara was a force to be reckoned with.

"That's a good fishing hook."

You looked away from your work, seeing the girl on fire. Seeing her in person was a whole lot different from seeing her on the projector. She looked like any other teenager. In times like these you kinda of forgot how young Katniss and Peeta really were. At the end you were basically the same age.

"Thank you Katniss."

"It was a noble thing to do for Mags."

"She's like a mother to me. I wasn't going to let her go through this again." You finished the hook and offered a small smile towards the brunette. "You wanna learn? It looks hard but it's pretty easy." Sparing a look at Tara who was busy talking to Peeta. Remembering that these victors from district 12 had no idea of the plan that had been set in play.

"Yea." She said with a small smile. Accepting the help from the other victor.

Even with everyone trying their best to stop the games. There was no sopping the inevitable. Which was why you found yourself at the edge of the arena with Katniss, Peeta, Finnick. Tara had been separated with her partner from the start. Which had killed you. Every time that cannon went it brought fear, dread. You were supposed to be with Tara. Make sure to watch her back like you're supposed to. But she had promised, swore that she'd be okay.

"I promise, I'll be okay." Tara had looked up at you as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Playing with your hair at the back of your neck. Her eyes filled with nothing but love. Her smile gracing her face as she looked at you. Her dimples on display for you to lightly kiss. You absolutely loved her dimples. From the moments you shared together, there was never a moment you didn't take the opportunity to kiss her dimples.

From the sight of the blush on her cheeks, you knew she liked the light kisses as well. "I worry. I'm scared if I'm honest." Your own arms wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. "I can't lose you Tara."

Her hands moved to your cheeks. Gently caressing your cheeks.

"And you won't. We will see each other again." She had sounded so confident, so sure that nothing could separate each other.

And Tara had been sure. When she reunited with you on the beach, she had never felt so happy and relieved. The sound of the canons going off had truly been frightening to hear, not knowing if you were okay. You had clearly not cared that she was covered in blood when you hugged her. Ignoring the confused looks from everyone else. She had hugged you just as tight.

Letting you help her wash off all the blood she had on herself. "Hey, you okay?" Drawing your attention away from her hair as she tilted her head back slightly to look up at you. Watching as you looked away towards the others and then back to her.

"Yea, just-Tara, Y/n come on we have a plan."

Tara should have pushed for you to answer, with chaos that followed she had been so certain that everything would go according to plan. Maybe with some bumps, but adamant that you would okay. The explosion had been loud, hot, she had felt her body flying through the air from the force of it all. Losing you in the middle of all the chaos, her back hitting something solid before her would went dark.

The sound of voices yelling had been what startled her awake. The immense pain coming from her leg had her crying out.

"Tara, hey it's okay, you're okay."

Her eyes squeezed shut from the pain. Trying to regularize her erratic breathing. Opening her eyes, she noticed, that she was now on a hovercraft. Looking towards where she heard the sound of a familiar voice.

"Sam?"

Offering a small smile, the older Carpenter was stood right next to where her sister was laid. Preparing herself what she had to do. "Hey sis, you did good out there."

The smile Tara had was short lived when she realized you were missing. You would have been right next to her, should have been tight next to her the moment she woke up. But your presence was absent. Unless you were hurt.

"Where's Y/n? Is she hurt?" Seeing the way Sam was avoiding her eyes she knew it couldn't be anything good. You were probably really hurt. Really hurt if you weren't in the room with her. Tara's mind was running all types of scenarios. All of them causing her heart to race in a type of panic.

"Tara, Y/n's tracker was still in her arm when the explosion happened. Amber was able to take Katniss's out but Y/n was fighting with the victors from district 2 Jill Roberts and Charlie Walker." Sam wasn't sure how to tell her sister. That the girl her little sister was madly in love with was-

"Sam! Where's Y/n?" The question was repeated but this time with more aggression that was deeply laced with fear, a clear sign of Tara wanting to know where you be located. She sat up the pain of her broken leg that shooting up her spine

"Tara." The hands on her shoulders were firm. "Y/n didn't make it out of the arena, she was taken to the capitol along with Peeta."

"Tell us where they took Katniss Everdeen and the rest of the victors."

Your head hang loosely, your wrist were red and sore from bulling on your restraints. The torture you were enduring was too intense for your body. But you would not crack. You'd never say anything. You heard them doing the same thing to Peeta.

"I don't know." You mumbled. Your hair was roughly pulled back, a groan escaping your lips.

"Lies!"

"I don't know." You said through gritted teeth. The hold this guard had on your hair was getting more painful as the seconds passed by.

"You won't talk, we will make you talk."

Tara had been restless the moment they had landed at District 13. She was angry, worried, she couldn't imagine what the capitol was doing to you. The torture you were for sure being inflicted upon. Just the thought of you being in pain was causing her eyes to fill with tears.

"I have to get her back." Tara sat up on her bed and got out. Getting her crutches to find the people in charge. She didn't care that her leg was broken and that it would take up to three to six months.

Leaving the room only to see Katniss Everdeen talking to Finnick. Seeing Finnick, Tara wanted nothing more than to punch him. He was the one that was supposed to cut out your tracker. With that in mind her blood shot red eyes narrowed as she made her way to the taller boy.

"We will get them back. I promise you that." Katniss had seen the fire in the shorter girls eyes. Knowing that Tara was about to take her anger out on Finncik. Just like she had done. She could relate to the anger, to worry that Tara was feeling. She had seen the embrace Tara had shared with you back on that beach. The way they looked at each other. It was a way no friends did. Let alone victors that were in game that was kill or be killed.

Tara looked away from the blonde man. Looking at the tall girl, "How? They're in the capital Katniss. Who knows what that asshole is putting them through."

Placing a hand on the short girls shoulder. "We will get them back."

You have never felt so hungry. So sore, you were sure you had a few broken bones. The guards had just finished one of their daily beatings. Your body covered in bruises, cuts and welts. Your back burned like crazy, preventing you from laying on your back. You had no tears left to cry, but yet you still felt so scared.

They asked you about Katniss, the rebellion, Peeta, the games, the plan. Tara. They kept on asking about Tara. That's what scared you. You didn't know where Tara was at. Or if she was even alive. You weren't even sure what day it was. Or how longs it's been since you saw Tara.

You barely registered that Peeta's screams had stopped. He had been suffering his own type of torture.

You knew they had forced Peeta to speak to Ceasar.

"Peeta?"

His sobbing stopped, the sounds of his whizzing breath was all that was heard. "...I warned Katnisss."

You didn't even know what was happening out there. But you knew from the way the guards were acting it was bad. The sound of footsteps had you mentally preparing you for what's to come. Waiting for what horrors of the day awaited you

Seeing the men in masks barging into the room. Seeing the cart filled with the tools they were going to use. The fear growing in your stomach at the sight of the different syringes. You tried to fight. You always did, never making it easy for them. It always lead to you being brutally beaten. You once had succeeded in hitting one guard in his private area. Being able to take his weapon, beating him and the other guard in with the baton. You had tried to retrieve the keycard, but you hadn't gotten far. Only making it to the front of Peeta's cell, ignoring Peeta's pleas to leave him before more guards arrived.

The punishment you received the days that followed had been horrible. The pain that you were put in those days had almost killed you.

All you wanted now was to see Tara again. All you wanted was Tara.

Sam, Amber, Chad, Ethan and Gale had all been in the hovercraft. Sam had promised her sister that she'd bring you back to her. Although a part of her was afraid on what they were going to find. The small window that was open while the Capitols defenses were down. They were using said window to recuse you and Peeta.

Amber had demanded to go as well. She had felt guilty, it had been her job to take out your tracker. If Finnick was unable to do so. Tara had wanted to go as well. But she was not allowed. Not when her leg that was still broken.

The silence had been chilling. No one single guard was in sight as they stormed the halls. Clearing, searching every room they passed. The dread that filled her heart every single second that passed. She had to locate you.

"Holy shit, Sam I found her." Amber's voice brought her out of her head. She hurried towards Amber, only to see her next to someone that didn't even look like you. What scared her was that it looked like you weren't breathing.

"Sam is she breathing?"

She had forgotten that Tara was able to see from the live feed that her helmet was recording. Before she could answer the lights in the once dark was now bright. The night vision goggles that she had on became almost blinding. The static coming from her ear was enough for her to know that the connection back home was lost.

Tara paced, the best she could with a broken leg. It has been two hours since they lost connection with the Sam and the others. She didn't have a chance to see you. Amber's camera had cut off before she could see you.

"Tara, they've arrived. They rushed Peeta, Annie and Y/n to the hospital wing." Sidney said from her position at the desk that overlooked everything.

Tara didn't wait, moving as quickly as she possibly could. Passing Katniss who was also quick to find Peeta. She didn't care about anyone, just you. Before she reach the doors that hopefully lead to you she was stopped.

"No, Sam. Move. Get out of my way." She tried to get around her but the firm hands on her shoulders had stopped her.

"She's in surgery right now Tara. You can't go in." Seeing the way her sisters eyes were filled with tears. The clear desperation of wanting to get to you. "I know you want to see her but we have to let the doctors work."

The next five hours dragged on. With no updates on you was making Tara feel like she was going crazy. Until the doctor finally came out. She was out of her seat in no time.

"She's stable, she suffered a lot from the hands of the capitol. She has three fractured ribs, a broken wrist, she severely malnourished, her back is filled with lacerations, some barely healed and others, if not most fresh. She's in room four, go on ahead."

The pain felt like it was all over your body. Your back felt like it was burning. The emptiness in your stomach felt so painful. Your arm, your ribs, the pain was everywhere. It was almost too much. The burning sensation of your irises at the bright lights that shinned down on you.

You couldn't remember what happened. The last thing that you did remember was the guards storming into your cell. That had been the last thing you remembered.

A warm hand taking yours was what brought you out of your head. The pain momentarily easing as you opened your eyes once again. The room was now dimly lit. Your eyes looking down at your hand, the one that was being held. But you had been through this so many times. The relief that always flooded your body at the sight of your beautiful brunette. Only to have it ripped from you. They only used tracker jackers venom on you a few times. But it had been enough for you to break.

"Hey baby." Her voice was just like before. Expect this time, she had some faded bruises. Not like other times when her face was clear of any harm.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Refusing to give into the venom. Yet there was nothing you could do when it came to tracker jacker venom. The hallucinations always seemed so real. Like how Tara always appeared in your hallucinations, but to blame you for leaving her behind. Always appearing to be de-, she would blame you. But this time it was different. This hallucinations was even holding your hand.

"Y/n?"

"You're not real."

Her heart broke, as tears filled her eyes at the sound of your voice. The strain of your voice, the denial that filled it. The way your voice cracked. Your eyes refused to open. The doctor had told her that you had traces of tracker jacker venom in your blood. "Y/n I'm real. I'm here. Open your eyes for me."

You squeezed your eyes tighter, until you felt the familiar warm sensation of her palms. You fought against your fears and opened your eyes. In your hallucinations Tara never touched you. But here she was. "T-Tara?"

The soft sob that escaped her lips, "Yea it's me baby. It's really me."

Seeing the familiar brown eyes, the safety that they brought had you bursting into tears. All the pain, the torture (physical and mental) it all came at you at once. Overwhelming you in a way you never imagined you'd feel.

Tara climbed on to the bed, the best she could without hurting you. Or her leg. Taking you into her arms, you didn't complain about any pain but she was still careful. You leaned closer into her arms. Her arms wrapping around you

"You're safe now. You're safe."

You were still struggling. Your bones felt weak, you felt drained with no energy. The doctors said that it was normal, seeing that it had only been two weeks since you were rescued. The fall of the capitol had happened a few days ago. Snow was dead, Finnick was dead as well. That had been hard to hear.

"Tara?"

Tara hadn't left your side at all. Helping you whenever she could. "Yea? Do you need anything? Water? Are you hun-I love you." The worry settled as it was replaced with the pure love she has for you. The love in your eyes was something she never got over.

"I love you to."

The games were permanently over. Life without the games was going to be different but she knew it was going a good type of different. A safer life with you was all she ever wanted.

And now she had it.

#tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #fem!reader #x reader #the hunger games au #Jenna Ortega character

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thecordelialetters · 5 months ago

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I’ll love you in every multiverse: First Dates and First Loves Pt. 3 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

Post Apocalypse Au! WC: 2.58k Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Summary: You're Five's wife from another universe and he's trying really hard to help you back home, unfortunately, it's been weeks and you're losing hope and he's gaining feelings.

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It's been 4 weeks of research, quality time, sexual tension, and awkwardness, and it was starting to get to you. You knew you shouldn't have feelings for this Five, but this version feels new, like when your relationship has begun again. It was the tender touches and the sense of leaving each other wanting. It felt good but it was torturous.

Today was Friday, every Friday you and Five ordered food and watched a movie to convey some type of normalcy. It started when you guys had been reading and making equations for 11 hours when you had had enough. -------------------------- 3 weeks ago --------------------------------- The two of you sat in Five's room surrounded by a ginormous load of reading material. "Okay, I can't do this right now I'm actually going to explode." You pushed all the papers in front of you aside. Five sighed and leaned back in his chair, a few buttons of his shirt undone from the summer heat. You watched as he flicked his hair back with his hand then rubbed his wrist from the pain of writing so long. "What are you looking at?" He questioned. "Nothing, just thought I saw something." Oh, you saw something all right. Something that made your pulse quicken. But now wasn't the time to think about how hot he was you shook your head "Look we've been at this straight for 4 days I think we need a little pick me up." You started typing away on your phone for the closest pizza place and best movies streaming now. Five furrowed his brows at you before dusting his pants and standing up, "Okay while you do that I'm going to take a shower." Pointing to him you replied, "Fine but you better be back for this prime-time fun." He waved you off but nodded. You had managed to find a pizza store nearby that delivered and ordered half pepperoni, half cheese, with a diet Coke. Plopping on Five's bed you opened his laptop that Viktor had gifted him. Plain. Looking fresh from the store with the mediocre sky background screen saver. You turned your head to the door waiting to see if you had enough time before opening the camera app and taking a photo on his computer and changing it to the background, the perfect prank. You then began typing away looking for free movies online. Normally it would take you forever to find a movie with your Five, the both of you were pretty picky in wanting to find just the right movie. But right now you just wanted to let some steam off. Reaching over you pulled out a side table to rest the laptop on and sat on the edge of Five bed leaning your back against the wall. You grabbed one of his pillows to hug against your chest, subtly inhaling the smell.

You heard Five come in the room and opened your eyes. "You weren't sleeping during our fun Friday right?" He laughed. You smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, and I've already picked out a movie!" He walked in pizza in one hand, plates and napkins in another. You scooted over to make space for him and leaned over to play the movie. "The hunger games? Is this a movie about starving people? Because I prefer thrillers." You laughed loudly, partially because he wasn't wrong. He rolled his eyes before grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza and putting it on a plate. "Here," he moved it closer, "for you." You grabbed the slice, "What a gentleman."

The two of you sat in silence, munching on your pizza while watching Katniss Everdeen volunteer as tribute. “Me and my husband loved these movies, he was team Gale, initially.” The two of you watched Gale and Katniss say goodbye for the first time. Five hummed “Gale does look more suitable for Katniss. But I won’t judge for now.”

The two of you were halfway into the movie and had 2 slices left of the pie. Sleep was beginning to overcome you as your eyes fluttered open and shut. Five looked at you from the side of his eyes. You looked so cute like that. Like a child trying to stay up past their bedtime. Hesitantly he spoke up in a soft voice, “ You…you can lean on me if you’re tired.” You yawned, confirming that you were indeed sleepy. Slowly your head fell to his shoulder as you shimmied closer to get comfortable. Five prayed you couldn’t hear his heart as he leaned his cheek on the top of your head. He closed his eyes and hoped this moment would last forever, he inhaled deeply trying to remember everything he had experienced with you so far.

Your breaths slowed down, indicating you were fast asleep. Five didn't want to interrupt your peaceful slumber so he carefully scooped his arm under your neck and legs to lay you down. He reached for the laptop closed the movie and saw the little present you left as his screen saver. He laughed, you were cute. Your pearly white smile was wide and your eyes were shut. He'd definitely keep it this way. He shut the laptop and began cleaning up the remnants of dinner before bringing them downstairs.

You stirred in your sleep, twisting and groaning as if you were having a bad dream. Five crept back into the room hearing your discomfort. He approached you and placed a hand in yours, perhaps thinking that the comfort would help you sleep. But your turned and pulled him toward you hugging his arm, face pressed against his palm. He wanted to leave, not in a bad way, but he didn't want to take advantage of you. Although, you had looked so much calmer with his hand in yours. He carefully laid above the covers making sure to not disrupt you. Five stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his mind. He genuinely enjoyed your presence and thought less and less about Delores. It was no surprise to him why almost every variation of himself was in love with you, and it scared him to admit that he was one of them. He closed his eyes, wishing to silence the thought, and eventually drifted off.

You cheek was smushed up against something hard and your hand against something warm, the smell of cologne and books welcomed your nose. Well whatever it was, it was breathing. You looked upward and saw your husband, you reached your hand to trace his jawline before pressing a kiss to his neck and snuggling deep into his side for a bit extra shut-eye. Unknown to you, Five was awake and felt everything, he knew you must've confused him for your Five but he pretended to sleep. You woke up again but this time Five was gone. You stretched out your arms and let out a groan before getting up and wandering downstairs. You saw Five nose-deep in a newspaper with a fresh pot of coffee. "Morning! Five, how did you like the movie last night. Sorry, I fell asleep I was exhausted." The boy put down his mug before responding "No worries, I kinda got into it and finished while you were asleep." He paused, thinking about his next words, "It was really fun just kind of relaxing." You jumped up and smiled, "I'm glad! We should do these movie nights often." You zipped around the counter to pour yourself a glass, unaware of green eyes following you, memorizing your figure.

--------------------------- Present Day ----------------------------------

Ever since then Friday nights became a regular thing for you and Five. You would order in fast-food and pick a movie. It almost always ended with you falling alseep first and the Five, but the two of you never acknowledged that.

There was a knock on the academy door. "I'll get it." Five said he was able to get there the fastest after all. "Viktor?" he said skeptically, "Come in, what are you doing here?" He moved away to let his brother in. "I'm here just checking in on you and our uh new visitor. You two kinda disappeared for a while. Luther and Ally had to catch up on work, Diego and Lila had plans, I don't know about Klaus but we wanted to know what was up." Viktor took a good look at Five. Although he still retained those dark eyebags under his green eyes, they seemed lighter. He even looked like he put on a healthier weight. "They're all busy with their own things, seems reasonable I'm busy with mine. But for you and our sibling's information, I'm doing just fine. I've been helping (y/n) try to get back home for a while. It's been...tough. But we're slowly making progress." Viktor nodded understanding that they, including him, as of late have not been the most invested in Five.

You came walking from behind Five, "Hello Viktor! Nice to see you again." Viktor waved awkwardly. It was funny seeing someone you'd known for years but here you'd only just met. "You know Viktor back in my universe we hung out a lot. I went to every one of your concerts." You paused, "I missed that." Viktor smiled, you were so nice, he kinda wished you were apart of this universe and this family. "Well, I have a concert tomorrow if you wanted to come? I know you two are probably busy with the machine but..." Five and you spoke simultaneously "I'd love to." "Yeah we are." You turned to look at Five with a harsh look before responding, "What time is it and were?" "its a 7pm at the mainstreet theater." You grabbed his arm excitedly, "We'll be there!"

When Viktor left Five looked at you with one eyebrow raised, "Don't we have work to do?" As much as he wanted to support Viktor, the two of you were busy, and there was no end in sight to when you would be able to go back home. Weren't you worried? At times he thought you to be too carefree, unbeknownst to the seriousness of your own situation sometimes. "Yes, but it's good to be there for Viktor, it's important to him." You had similar talks with your Five, growing up in an emotional student house, vying for the affections of their stoic father, you could tell that it was hard for the family at times to understand certain things. "Sometimes, it helps to be the first one to reach out, it shows that you care and you want to prioritize them." You nudged him on the arm. "Now...weren't we about to commit to our weekly movie night?" And that's how the two of you ended up in his bed once again burger wrappers in hand while The Conjuring played in the back. You pulled the covers over your eyes and gripped Five's sleeve. "Why did you have to pick a scary movie. Five.. she's right behind Lorainne!" You jumped up and buried your face in his side. "I can't watch!" You cried. Five only chuckled and pulled you closer. "Shh, It's okay it's almost over." His voice soothed you. You peeked through your fingers for the ending. "I didn't take you to be a scared cat." He chuckled. "Me and my Five used to go on movie dates often. I remember the first day he took me too was at the movies and it was Insidious. I had no idea what it was and didn't research beforehand. But I had a feeling he did it on purpose because I was so terrified I was almost in his lap." You remembered your first day fondly. "Anyways I was so scared after the movie and after he drove me home that I had called him that night to talk and refused to hang up, just in case the monster got me. So he stayed up all night talking to me. I swear we talked until 5 am, about everything." It pained Five to know that these were memories of him, but not. He had risked everything for his family and given up so much of his life due to one mistake. Didn't he deserve this? You continued, "You want to know when I fell in love with you?" Five nodded. "We had 3 dates so far, not too fancy just dinner and the occasional movie. But the day I fell in love wasn't even planned"

----------------------October 15 2018-----------------------------------

You had just the shittiest day at work ever. Absolute garbage. You worked at Lancroft Banking, one of the world's biggest banks, so there was constant pressure and work. Today your boss had made snarky comments at you all day about how you messed up the calculation in the data that was supposed to go to their international team. It was a small era just due to the outdated information you received. But someone must've shat in his coffee that day because nonstop was he giving you backhanded comments. You cried your whole lunch break and texted Five that you were going to quit because of your shit boss ( just a bluff though).

After work, you were getting ready to head to the train when a bouquet of tulips infiltrated your view. Your eyes looked up to the giver of the beautiful flowers. "I heard my favorite girl had a hard day at work." You blushed at his words. "You were having a bad day, so I'm here to distract you. I've already picked up Thai from Mai Thai and got (your favorite dish). I have vanilla ice cream in my fridge and the entire (favorite movie) collection waiting for us at my place." You were shell-shocked. No one had ever taken the time to care for you like this. And it wasn't till you were driving in his car, ranting to him about your job when it hit you like a soft wave crashing in. You started to notice how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the little flash of a dimple on his cheek. His responses faded into the background when a warm hand grabbed yours. The moment felt perfect, he felt perfect, not a flaw in your eyes. You had been in what you thought was love in high school. But this was different. No one had cared for you like this. I mean there was Diego who looked out for you in the police academy but Five? Five had taken the time to understand you, listen to you, talk to you. You thought to yourself, "I think...this is what love is."

-------------------------------Present ------------------------------------

"We dated for 2 years before you proposed." You said while admiring your ring. "This ring you had custom-made for me." You pushed your hand out to show off the diamond ring surrounded by two small emeralds. A thick silence came across the two of you. It was undeniable the attraction the two of you had for each other, but neither wanted to push the boundaries. They feared the consequences. You eventually had to go back home and Five eventually would have to move on. It was complicated. "Well, I'm a bit tired so I'm going to head to bed now. Good night (y/n) I'll see you tomorrow." Five lifted the covers, letting a cool breeze hit your legs before packing up the food and his laptop and retreating to the door. "Good night Five, sleep well." You responded. Your body ached for his closeness again, the feeling of comfort and solitude in a single person. Instead of calling out you just laid back in bed and closed your eyes replaying the last moments again and again you had before you fell through the portal. This was a mistake.

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Author's note: I know there are still a lot of unanswered questions but I'm just getting started! be on the lookout for pt 4!

I also just want to say I finally realized messages and inboxes are two different things so I was able to read some of your comments! Thank you so much to everyone who has written something nice, your comments make me want to keep writing and be better.

I will get around to some of the requests!

Masterlist 🖊️

Taglist : @cialovesklopp , @lovehatekill, @rosekeu , @iifrui

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#fanfic #five hargreaves #five hargreeves #five x y/n #five x reader #five x you #number five #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #tua five #five tua #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five hargeeves x you #five hargeeves x y/n

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liveyun · 1 year ago

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𝐓 𝐎 𝐍 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐓 — KSJ.

title : tonight

pairing. seokjin x female reader (oc)

genre. fluff , students au , romance

w. love at the first sight(?) ; oc is struggling a lot ; foul language ; some mentions of stalking (no one is stalking) ; dad jokes ; softness <3

wc. ≤ 4k

You've never ever been so excited to go to the school cafeteria before until one day you noticed him.

Those games were always boring to you, only if your friends didn't force you to join in. Backing off while your brain scrambles to think of an excuse when your back suddenly hits a firm and muscular back as you spin back, in slight shock, those broad shoulders never leaving your sight. That person was visibly taller as he turned to you with the same, hurried air, flurries of apologies coming out through splutters.

“I’m-I’m so sorry,—”

His friends swarm around his shoulders, petting him with short praises and yells. That feeling in your stomach was immaculate. At that exact moment your breath hitches in your throat and you momentarily forget what is breathing. Your heart thumps as if it was going to burst out, and your throat dries up.

Tresses of silk-like raven hair rested on his forehead, parting to give him the perfect forehead you'd ever seen. His face glows with the lighting of the room, and you'd easily believe the glow outdid the sun easily. With those almond shaped, curious eyes which radiated the warm aroma of fresh melted chocolate, he had those squishy cheeks paired with cranberry pillowy lips. An instant dazzling smile highlighting the sculpture of his face instantly made your heart throb at the very first sight.

Even though the encounter was just for a matter of seconds which can be surmised to be long forgotten, it was anything but. That was imprinted in your heart as if it's meant to be within those deep treasures of the sea, a Siren’s voice by the sober shores of the coast. Each recollection of the memory left your heart pulsing like small jitters of the first snow and butterflies fluttering inside your tummy as if they're playing with a young, playful kitten.

It didn't leave your brain at all at times, especially when you returned to the cafeteria where the incident took place. Sometimes, as much as you're basful to admit, you'd visit to come back to the fleeting happiness you'd felt back with a slight exchange of formalities with the guy who stole your heart from you, and doesn't seem to be seen anywhere afterwards.

Choosing the table closest to the window, today you're alone as your stomach rumbles with hunger. you sit down with your plate in your hand, ready to eat after a long day.

The aroma of the warm bowl of dubu jigaetguk calms you down as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding on. Being a student with a part time job as waitress in a pub wasn't easy to say, to some point. Sure, you're used to the strain you're putting on your already tired body from your tedious routine, but when you realize how you hardly get any rest for yourself.

Whether you like it or not, whether your social batter is on the verge of dying, you again have to reach school on time after getting an ounce of rest, or sometimes, even not. Getting dozens of assignments and projects to finish and much less time to compete with,you end up in the library finishing them, often starving yourself in the process. Then again, cycling back to your workplace, the foul, shitty pub where a single mistake can earn thousands of souls, weird looks and mockings from that ass manager of yours.

Or sometimes, even deduction from your paycheck if the humiliation doesn't feel enough to him. It's almost past midnight when you reach your rented apartment. Your muscles are sore, aching, and screaming for a break with your social battery already dead by the time you fall back to your bed, trying to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Well, if you're particularly clear, there wasn't anything to do; if you wanted to continue your precious education you had to do this. The sun can shine only so brightly when it burns just as strongly, yes?

Eh, apart from the poetry. . .finally after weeks you got some time to eat. A quick peek at the huge windows and you know that there's a sudden drizzle which has people rushing about for a shelter to the unexpected rain. You notice a few people rushing into the cafeteria too, and a happy thought strikes your head at the new crowd. Him. Your heart begins racing and all the memories flashes again as if they're happening right now. The hopes of finding him again thaws in your chest and your lips quirk up to a smile unknowingly.

Him. . . .who was he and what had he done to you? What was his name? Once again you felt your heart pick up its that it felt like it was drumming with happiness inside; Was he of the same school as yours? Obviously, it had to be or else what he would be doing in the cafeteria area.

But you'd sometimes even see the students from other nearby schools during competitions or fests here, so it could be a possibility.

He seemed to be pretty much popular within his friends, you assume. You could, by just looking at the number of people who'd swarmed around him at that moment and when your small interaction was over, their giggles and laughs were enough to prove he was a good friend of theirs indeed.

It was a bit too overwhelming sometimes as a part of you is hurt to think that you've actually fallen for a stranger within some seconds when you can't seem to find any traces of him so far, or you don't know anything about him. Pining for a stranger who might even not be single has your breath shaking.

A sigh leaves your quivering lips. Why did your heart have to do that ? Your head drops to your hands, your thoughts pulling yourself down to your loneliness once again.

Fiddling the spoon on your bowl while you stare with your head empty at the mushy mass of tofu floating in the seasoned soup, long gone cold. Your brain is on a loop thinking about all those, his perfect face, his possible popularity, the way he was just surrounded by his friends. If he wasn't nice , how could they hang out with him? A true person makes a true friend, and for sure that thought kind of convinced you that he maybe wasn't. . ..in your league.

Or so you'd convince yourself somehow that you had no chances with him. You, the loner who always has been avoiding people, making excuses to avoid interaction, easily losing interest. Being a social butterfly wasn't your thing, really. Making stoney faces and uninterested replies was your thing, and you were used to those stares at the pub bar and in your school where God knows by what names and what assumptions were you being called so, and you couldn't care more. Your heart may have pumped warm blood, but its veins carried numbness and no signs of interest for the hate. Times have made you that way, and you still are.

He was. . .just an acquaintance. Or even something less. You didn't even know his goddamn name ! You know that your heart will have a hard time understanding what your brain already has, but sooner or later you'll have to, afterall. It was already a month following this incident, and you had to distract yourself to move on.

Shaking your head to let go of those thoughts, you're now mentally scolding yourself for overthinking, again and you just wanted to forget him, that incident which took place both in the cafeteria and in your heart. There are some extremely alluring and beautiful things in this world which are craved by many, but are achieved by only a few.

That's it; you now wanted to finish up your meal and as soon as you'd completed today's schedule, you wanted to go home. Yes, home.

The bell rings, finally.

And now, it's time for the teacher to depart. As soon as she leaves the class you switch on your cell and your eyes fall on the texts from your co-worker oblique friend Grace.

RECEIVED. 12:30 PM

grace ⭐ : OoO

grace ⭐ : Big Newsssss

grace ⭐ : no work today!!

SEEN. 1:00 PM

you : huh?

you : ??

RECEIVED. 1:05 PM

grace ⭐ : Manager called in a day 😵‍💫

grace ⭐ : He says it's some ‘Personal Stuff’ He has fallen into😶

Sighing, your thoughts run up to your warm bed among soft,warm sheets to the fact that you have your biology exam tomorrow leaves a frustrating aftertaste in your tongue. You decide to stay back in the library, at least you'd be studying and it would be a nice distraction from all those non stop floods of thoughts.

You didn't realize the time flies so soon that you've actually completed memorizing the final two chapters without any fail sitting in peace with all the focus on your book and notebook and no other distracting thoughts inside you.

A wave of satisfaction floods over your body, as you close your eyes and let out a little breath. You just keep still for some moments like that, cherishing your little victory until you felt the seat beside you was occupied. You didn't pay much attention to it since it was a school library; anyone could come in and you didn't care less. You just buried your head in your book and slowly, your signs of exhaustion were clear. Your eyes felt heavy to be kept open, getting watery each time you yawned.

Fuck, sleep sounds way too good now. Your burning eyes close for a while. Heaven. Your head is almost about to fall down on your book when you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Jerking with a silent breath, you turn to the source of the tap.

Your sleep-riddled brain is already clogging up and your breath is again caught up. Your heart begins thumping at such a rate that it's starting to hurt a bit, and a small gasp leaves your lips.

That same face, those same plush lips and that glow. Those chocolate brown eyes softly staring at you, while his lips adorned a gentle smile causing his cheeks to puff up slightly.

“Hey..” fuck. His voice is so fucking smooth and soft, you feel like you're floating on a cloud. Nah, it cannot be real. He cannot be real. You must've fallen asleep at this point.

“Are you okay...?" His voice echoes in your ears at the lack of your reply and your dazed expression,.presently tearing you out from your daydream.

“We—we met at the cafeteria that day, if I'm not—”

“I remember you,” you cut him off by a murmur, thinking of how vividly you remember him ever since that meeting. You put a hand on your chest as you blink, breathing heavily with your heart still thrumming hard.

A water bottle was passed to your hands as you looked up at him again, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He started apologizing as he thought that he disturbed your study session and kind of caught you off guard. You decline and shrug it off like nothing much happened, as you feel your tummy already swarming with a forest of butterflies at even the bare minimum. The way he's so. . you don't know, but whatever it is, it's doing nothing good to your poor heart. You already feel your cheeks ignite at its very thought of looking at those warm, soft, roasted coffee eyes.

“I’m Seokjin. I realized that I should’ve introduced myself to you that day, but by the time I did, you already were gone,”

He quips with a laugh,taking out his books on the table as you realize it's your turn to introduce yourself. As soon as you do it, you wished if you weren't so nervous and didn’t sound so small to him as you did to yourself; but a sweet smile was given off as a response.

“Erm..for that day, I'm really sorry. Those brats wanted me to join a frat party, and while I told them how much I hate frat houses, I didn't realize that you were behind me,” he rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh almost as if he's embarrassed.

“It's..it's quite rude that I left without an apology.” His eyes are even softer, melting your heart even more.

“But you did apologize to me?” You laugh off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you feel his wide gaze at you as he breaks down to a fit of nervous giggles.

Did you see correctly that his ears were flushed red?

“I finally found some time to study, so I decided to be here. Just when I was passing by, I saw you and thought of. . .well, apologizing properly this time,”

He's rubbing his neck again as if he's embarrassed to speak it out and itches to speak more. You ask him to continue. Clearing his throat, he says, “I wanted to be friends with you. I've seen you pretty many times in the local bar. Each time I'd try to find you, you were always scuttering away into the chambers. Much to my surprise I found you in our school cafeteria.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you, even before our bumping happened and I never got to see you after that. . .”

Your eyes flick up to him as he suddenly jumps on his seat, shaking his head violently with wide, shaking pupils.

“Nono!! no!! Don't, don't get me wrong,” he chokes out, “I wasn't stalking you or something like that, I just. . . couldn't at all get a grip on my curiosity. . .” he's rubbing his neck again, and you bet you saw his cheeks pink this time. He's so adorable and it makes you giggle, a surprising sound which you think you haven't heard of before.

“So, you're a regular of the turquoise villa?” He looks up at you, somewhat relieved to not have been perceived as a stalker. “Well, not really regular, you know? I don't drink often, but it's like I've been dragged there at times for the birthday celebration of my homies. Or when anyone needed alcohol to let go of their grief,”

“So like I've been there thrice or twice, and I've seen you all the times I've visited.” You are quite surprised yourself. Thinking of the fact that he wanted to talk to you as much as you wanted to have blood rushing up to your cheeks. You're trying your best not to react so openly at this, but you're having a hard time controlling your heart. It beats so loudly that you feel your blood rushing up to your brain in your ears.

He asks you again if you're ok.

You shrug again.

“You could've just. . .heh, joined me at the library since I'm here after lunch,”You laugh, embarrassed at your own loss at words. He flashes a sweet smile your way, suddenly flicking his wrist to get a look at the time on his watch.

“So, is it a day off for you?”

Months have passed after your friendship with him began to bloom, and you find yourself falling more and more for him. You feel your mask slip more and more each day when you're with him. He was totally how you expected him to be, understanding, radiant, intelligent and humorous. And not to mention, had a face carved by God themselves.

All of your bad days seemed like nothing when you had him, whether it was his sweet gesture of sharing his ramen with you during lunch; Encouraging and comforting you when your thoughts spiraled downwards. Whether it's just him and you sitting in silence, basking in each other's company, or cackling like dumb idiots at his dad jokes which were in abundance with him. Your colorless life seemed to have suddenly filled with rainbow colors, as sparkles lit up your numb heart which seems to have known him, and beats only for him. You feel utterly selfish at times, but him saying that he enjoys hanging out with you just as much as you do somehow puts you at ease.

As if apart from pumping blood his existence was the reason for your heart beats, that subtle drumming was felt by you each time whenever his face flashes in your mind, as if your heart knows him. You couldn't really help yourself, it felt like you were rolling and rolling down continuously an inclined hill for him and those feelings were just too much to bear. Yet, you have decided to keep cool cause lord knows for what you didn't want to confess.

Perhaps it's the fear of losing a friend who meant so much to you, you wanted to go with the flow and just endure it.

Apart from being a really sweet guy, his sense of humour is impeccable. You two are pretty good friends now. Even if you don't meet each other at the school due to the different routines, you two have regular contact through text and calls, which kind of is. . . awaited for you to listen to his voice and his pretty little jokes.

A chilly night as it was tonight, your grumbling manager is dismissing the employees a bit early. You rumble your bag to keep your uniform back and sling it up your shoulders, waving goodbye to Grace who seems equally as tired as you. Stretching your aching and sore limbs, you sigh and rub your shoulders. Waves of exhaustion flows through you, as you yawn, cursing at your own self as you take small, tortoise steps towards your house.

You're lost in your own world when you feel a tap on your shoulder out of nowhere and your breath is knocked out of your lungs. You're nearly screaming as you jump, startled, but suddenly you smack your lips as you see that taller boy laughing loudly, broad shoulders shaking with each squeak.

You snort, “Seokjin, you ass, you scared the living shit out of me.” He is laughing breathlessly and you smack his shoulder, earning a small ow from him. Soon, he gently holds your shoulders and calms himself down.

"But hey, what are you doing here, Seokjin? We're already closed for the evenin—”

“Hm,I was up for a walk and I suddenly felt my limbs carrying themselves here. Muscle memory, maybe?” He rubs his chin as if in deep thought, and you nearly huff.

“I haven't seen you for a few days. But it turns out that you're already leaving, so I thought of walking you home, as I see you're quite tired, if you don't mind.”

“Ha, are you gonna carry me or something?” you chirp as you walk along, suddenly all of the exhaustion vanishing away from you.

“If you'd let me, I surely would.” You fake a gasp and try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach once again.

You walk down the pavement with him by your side.

“____?”

“Yes?” you're curious as you look up at him.

“What do you say when you're busy on a call, and want to talk to a person later?” his eyes are twinkling by the time he finishes his question. You're thinking, hard, what possibly could be his joke.

“I’ll.. I'll call you later?”

He groans,“Don’t call me later. Call me Seokjin, please.”

“Wh—” you stop by your tracks and roar a laugh, him squeaking along with you. Fuck, your stomach hurt with that. You pant as you near your apartment, sighing happily.

A chilly wind blows through, and goosebumps flood all over your skin as you rub your arms with your hands, feeling a bit cold. You wished if you would've stuffed the hoodie inside your bag, then you wouldn't have been facing this right now.

Suddenly, you feel two hands wrap around your shoulders softly as you turn and you find that his black bomber jacket is wrapped around your shoulders.

This awkward position where you basically have your face craned up to look at him, has his face just a few inches away from yours. You feel his breath gently brushing your face. Your eyes winden themselves, as your blood rushes up to your cheeks, and your heart is thumping, again. Your lips part slightly, seeing him this close where you can smell the faint but enchanting scent of his woody cologne could be described just as a dream . . . and now it's true.

You can't help but gasp with your heart thundering inside your chest, warmth radiates from his jacket, his soft smile contrasting with his beautiful eyes twinkling in the starry night.

“Seokjin. . .” fuck. You did sound small.

“Hm? Are you still cold?" He asks with a soft voice as your chest is almost hurting with its fast beats. “No. . .” quite the opposite. You pull your hands to your chest again, as he chuckles lightly. You look down with completely flushed cheeks. You feel like you're about to burst at the close proximity.

“I. . .” You close your eyes, unable to confront your shyness. Fuck, you've never been ever this close to him, you've never ever been so close. . . ! His strong arms snakes around your waist inside the loosely hanging jacket, spinning you so that you're facing him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets, but the somewhat hesitant look in his eyes explains that he's nervous, too. You relax visibly in his hold, your body turning to putty under his eyes. He smiles as he sees your pupils dilate, breathing wild.

His hold on you is gentle gentle gentle, and if you'd die here, you happily would, if this is what heaven feels like. His nose nearly brushes by your own with how close he is to you, and his soft, long bangs tickle the apples of your cheeks as he pulls you even closer. Fuck. Fuck. This really is happening.

By the time he speaks again, the entire world stops for you and all that you can hear is his silent, but delicate voice in your ears, “I just want to ask you if I can keep you warm with me by your side, holding hands just like this.”

Oh, fuck. You cannot beleive what's happening. But whatever is, you just want to do. . . cherish. You hope you'll be talking about this later, too.

You nod.

A toothy grin spreads all over his lips, his face lighting up instantly.

He tilts his head to lean in more and whisper a small thank you. And then, his lips press so softly against your own, and you feel yourself smile as your hands reach up to his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You'd let him keep you warm forever.

a/n : missing seokjinnie a bit too much lately (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠) i hope you enjoyed reading this smol drabble <3 don't forget to drop a reblog if you did, it helps a lot 🤍

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ilguna · 1 year ago

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Could I get a soulmate AU Johanna mason x victor reader enemies to lovers? like they spend the entire time hating each other just to find out when they’re in district 13 that they’re each other’s soulmates? even after they find out reader is still reluctant with not wanting to talk to Johanna but Johanna kinda trying to make an effort cause she’s seeing her differently now thank u & congratulations on 3k follows

☼ falling leaves (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, johanna's mean and self-centered, mild name calling.

wc; 4.7k

notes; enjoy all angst, no happy ending.

When it comes to being delusional, Johanna Mason takes the cake.

There has not been one conversation you’ve unwillingly had with her where you didn’t think that she’s crazy. The way she holds herself and blatantly disrespects the people around her as if she has some sense of superiority is absolutely mindblowing. It’s like she has yet to realize that all of you are in the same shitty boat, regardless of how you may or may not have won your Games.

If you had to guess, you’d say it has something to do with the popularity and how you handled it. It wasn’t outrageous or anything, at least you don’t think so. It was a normal reaction. You did what any other sane tribute would do in an outlying district that found themselves with every pair of eyes in the Capitol—you wholly and completely embraced the people.

Every move you made was catered to them, that way if you were in need in the arena, you’d be able to get exactly what you wanted. This would come with consequences later on, but you didn’t know that, and you don’t really care now, either. As long as you got the advantage and a sliver of a chance of making it out alive, you didn’t care.

And with you feeding into the fire with your cooperation, you easily ended up being the most popular tribute, surpassing the Careers. That was far from your goal, you flew a little bit too close to the sun, which got you this massive target on your back.

Still, you persevered. You let the Careers hate you, minded your own business, gaining sponsors by the minute. When you received a score of seven, they took a step back. In your interview with Caesar, you drew them back in by talking about how glamorous the Capitol is. If there was one thing you learned, it was that they were a sucker for compliments. Whatever made them feel better.

Well, it worked. All of it. You won the Hunger Games two and a half weeks in. The hardest part was shaking the Careers long enough to split them up and frame a betrayal, which never should have worked. They turned on each other, forgetting about your existence, until there was one left. He was too injured to win, anyway. You picked him off, and your announcement came five minutes later.

You continued to sing praises in the Capitol’s direction up until your Victory Tour, where you were finally able to stop when you got home to District Eleven. You were no longer important enough to focus on, allowing you to settle into victor life. And every time someone asked you if you really thought the Capitol was so great, through a bright smile you’d tell them no.

You met Johanna the following year, and from the very second she laid eyes on you, you knew that the two of you were not going to get along. Her face was twisted, eyes narrowed in your direction. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she was standing with Finnick Odair.

You remember thinking to yourself, this is not victor solidarity. How could they judge you for a strategy that worked? It wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a pair of people that had suffered the way you had. Especially when they were the talk of the Capitol, themselves.

You came to the realization that you had survived the Hunger Games, but you’d never stop living with the scrutiny of your win for the rest of your life. No matter where you’d go or who you’d talk to, everyone would have an opinion. They’d either think it was smart or a blatant cheap shot.

They would never stop to think that they had come into the Capitol with a different list of things they were willing to do. If they wanted to leave with dignity, if they were fine seeming shallow, if they would settle for nothing less than tough, if they wanted to be a nobody.

For Johanna, you quickly figured out that she wasn’t going to let them help her. She wanted to figure it out on her own, and she did. She downplayed herself to make it seem like she wasn’t a threat. By crying through the reaping and the Tribute Parade, she ensured the idea that she was soft.

When it came to training, she purposely failed at everything she touched to make her seem weak. After scoring a three, all the remaining potential sponsors flew out the window, furthering her agenda. No one would think twice about her, not even the tributes. They wouldn’t have a need to hunt her down in the arena, because she was helpless.

She couldn’t have planned it any better. She hid and waited for a bulk of the tributes to be dead before she decided it was time to show off who she really was. And that was smart and brutal. With there being so little people left, she was able to take out the remaining tributes in less than a week, and was promptly crowned victor.

Her cowardly act was dropped in the interviews that followed. You remember seeing them in passing, noting how she was barely able to hide her distaste for the Capitol. At the time, you thought about how if you were in her shoes, you wouldn’t be as openly hateful.

And as if it were a test, you were reaped the next summer.

It’s just an odd experience to be shunned so heavily by her and Finnick. You expected it more from the Career mentors, but Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria were so welcoming. They didn’t care where you were from, just the fact that you managed to get their level of popularity coming from nothing.

You suppose that didn’t help your case. Still, that shouldn’t have mattered, anyway. You all won in your own respectable ways. You used the sponsors until they were dry, Johanna pretended to be a damsel, and Finnick won young by trapping tributes in his net and stabbing them with his trident.

She’s been caught on your actions ever since. Despite the fact that you’re merely a year younger than her, or that you’re not the same person you were for the Games, she can’t see past the fact that you threw yourself into the Capitol’s arms. In fact, she called you childish for it.

When you heard that through the grapevine, you knew that any hope of friendship between you two was gone. You wanted to give her time to realize that you’re not a terrible person, but if she was going to start to go down that path, you weren’t going to entertain her. She could be who she wanted to be, you’d just have a pole to keep her at a distance.

It worked for a couple of years, and then it washed down the drain when the Quarter Quell came around. Chaff told you that if you wanted to go back into the arena, you’d have to be willing to help. If not, Seeder would go in instead. As much as you would’ve liked to stay home, you knew that you couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Seeder would be a better leader in District Eleven, and you’d be more helpful in the arena.

When you learned that you’d have to work alongside Johanna and Finnick, you began to regret it. Johanna’s entitled, all she does is run her mouth. She likes to push buttons—yours especially, because she knows that you’re trying to be better than her. It was a tragedy when you accidentally found her in the jungle, because you’d rather deal with Finnick. At least his comments are passive-aggressive.

Besides Johanna’s attempts to piss you off, the arena was surprisingly easy to get through. You ignored her, only speaking to Finnick when it was necessary. You’re sure it was glaringly obvious to Katniss and Peeta that you and Johanna hated each other, but that didn’t get in the way.

And while not everyone made it out of the arena, you did. A nasty period of survivor’s guilt followed, because it wasn’t easy knowing that the ones who got taken by the Capitol were being tortured. It should’ve been you with them, because you’d left Johanna early to make it back to the lightning tree before midnight.

She has not let you live that down. It’s all she talks about—how you abandoned her and Peeta to save your own life. She’s called you every bad name that she can think of to anyone who will listen. Her favorite one being selfish. That one comes out of her mouth so often that it sounds foreign to you now.

It’s funny, because Finnick nearly did the same thing. He initially left the tree to find you, Katniss and Johanna because the wire snapped. And when he realized he wasn’t going to find any of you in time, he started to go back to the tree after he heard Katniss shouting for Peeta. By the time you got there, Katniss had already shot the arrow at the dome, and they were all paralyzed on the floor.

No matter how many times you bring this up to her, on the occasions you feel like arguing, she tells you that it’s different. Finnick was doing his job by going to save the Mockingjay. And that he was to guard the tree with Beetee, anyway. It made sense for him to go back to it.

You know you dig your grave a little further each time you throw Finnick under the bus, but you refuse to be held to a higher standard. It’s hypocrisy, because he’s her best friend, and she’s wearing rose tinted glasses when it comes to him. Sometimes you contemplate how much trouble you’d get in for wringing her neck, and then you wonder if you’ll earn an ounce of respect from her for doing it.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” A voice says.

You jump, pulling the top of the jumpsuit to your chest as you turn to see who it is that’s intruding. It’s Finnick, of course. He’s standing in the doorway of your assigned room, which you occupy alone. They had tried to make him your roommate, because from the surface it looked like you got along.

It didn’t work out for multiple reasons. The main one being that he had so many breakdowns from his girlfriend being in the Capitol that he repeatedly got sent back to the hospital to be monitored. They kept his name on the plate next to the door with yours for a few weeks, but ultimately took it down when it was apparent that he wasn’t going to be stable enough to be on his own.

And now that Annie is here in District Thirteen, he lives in a room with her.

“So is knocking not a custom in District Four?” You ask, face twisted. “Or are you a creep?”

Finnick’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he lets out a laugh. “I did knock, I thought you heard me.”

“Clearly not.” You snap, pulling your arms through the top of the jumpsuit. You button the front, looking over him. “And my tattoos are none of your concern.”

He ignores what you’ve said. “Did you get them in the Capitol?”

You press your lips together. “Where else would I have gotten them?”

He makes a face. “I don’t know, District Eleven?”

“We have more Peacekeepers than any of the districts combined, and you think we have tattoo parlors?” You ask. “And one of them is my soulmate mark, so it doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t know how to have fun.”

You glare. “What do you want?”

He takes in a breath. “You’re needed in Command.”

You sigh, motioning for Finnick to lead the way. He happily turns around in the doorway, heading out. You shut the door behind you, following him to the elevator.

“Which tattoo is your soulmate mark?” Finnick asks.

“None of your business.” You tell him, trying to shut him down.

“Mine is this one.” He rolls up the sleeve on his right arm, getting it above his bicep to show you a pair of koi fish. “Annie has the same one.”

“I figured.” You mutter.

“Is it the one on your back left shoulder?”

It is, he probably got a good view of it while you were trying to get dressed. You’re not sure how he came to the conclusion it’s that one in particular, because you have a group of tattoos on your back. It was advised for you to keep your front half clean for pictures. No one would want a picture of your back.

You went with it, even though you would’ve liked to be able to see them. You convinced yourself to wait a few years before you decide to do what you want. You thought by the time the next generation of victors came out, you’d be out of the spotlight and no one would care then.

“Why does it matter?” You counter.

“I’ve never seen a soulmate tattoo that big before.” Finnick shrugs, “Usually they’re smaller.”

“Yours isn’t that small.”

“I said usually.” Finnick looks at you.

When you make it to Command, you step inside to find it as cold and dark as it normally is. There’s a group of people standing on the far side of the room, the closer you get, the better you’re able to see who it is. The most notable faces are President Coin, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Haymitch Abernathy.

Plutarch gives you a wide smile when you stop at the table. “Here she is now.”

“There’s no telling how Peeta would react to her.” Haymitch shakes his head. “If you want him to do this, he would have to do it alone.”

“Nonsense.” Plutarch waves him off. “Tell me, (Y/n), you used to bake, right?”

Your face scrunches. “How do you know that?”

“Your Victory Tour.” He says. “You said you made cakes and pies.”

You look from him to the table, because you honestly don’t remember mentioning that during your Victory Tour. “At home, yes.”

“And for weddings and parties.” He insists.

You stare at him in bewilderment. “I guess.”

Plutarch nods, looking at Coin. “I told you that she’d fit the description.”

“What do you need cakes and pies for?” You ask, looking at Haymitch for help.

“Finnick and Annie are getting married.” He tells you. “They would like Peeta to make the cake for the wedding.”

“So why do you need me?”

“To help.” Plutarch says, as if it’s obvious. “Peeta won’t be able to make a cake that large on his own. And the staff in the kitchen aren’t prepared to tackle this task.”

“And I am?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Peeta will be in charge.” Coin clarifies. “You’ll help.”

You turn to look at Finnick, who’s approached the table, standing between you and Plutarch. You stare at him for a long moment, thinking of all the times he was an ass to you. How you swallowed it because you wanted to be the bigger person. Yet, he’s older than you so he should know better. And he never once stepped in to stop Johanna.

You decide to cash in on your good behavior. “No.”

When you look back at Coin, she’s got a hard expression on her face, encouraging you to challenge her further. Plutarch gawks for a second. “Well, we were hoping—”

“No, I’m not doing this for them.” You shake your head. “I have nothing against Annie, but Finnick is a different story.” You motion in a circle with your hand. “He does not deserve my help.”

Finnick makes a noise of disbelief. “Why?”

“Because we’re not friends.” You deadpan. “You made that explicitly clear during my first year of mentoring—you and Johanna. And while she was smearing my name, you didn’t once think to stop her.”

Haymitch sighs, eyes on Plutarch. “I tried to explain this to you.”

“That’s petty victor drama.” Plutarch tries to brush it off. “This is for a greater purpose, we want to film a propo to show the Capitol that we’re still celebrating.”

This bothers you too, but not nearly as much as making a cake for Finnick. “If Finnick wants me to help, he’ll apologize and ask me, himself.” You look at him, “Otherwise, Peeta can make the cake on his own.”

All eyes shift to Finnick expectantly. You watch as his skin begins to turn a gentle shade of red, embarrassed. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I didn’t help you. Will you please make a cake for Annie and I?”

A part of you wishes you could make him beg a little bit more, but for now, this is good enough. “Sure, Finnick. It would be my honor.”

—

“Peeta, I knew you baked, but I didn’t think that you were this good.” You tell him, chewing on a piece of cake that he let you try.

“Thanks.” He lets out a laugh, using the back of his hand to move a stray hair out of his face.

“You said your parents were bakers?” You ask. “How did you manage that?”

“Yes, we all were. My parents ran it, my brothers and I worked. It wasn’t easy. The only reason why people could afford it was because we had to lower our prices.” He reaches for the blue dye at the end of the counter. “It was easier to run after I won.”

“I can imagine.” You nod. “I could finally buy the ingredients I wanted, instead of working with what I had.”

Peeta drops some of the food coloring into the icing. When he decides it’s enough, he stirs the color in, and you watch as it turns from white to a dark blue. Once it’s not getting any more potent, he backs away, reaching for the towel to dust the flour off his hands before reaching to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“It’s so hot in here.” He shakes his head. “And stuffy. At the bakery, we’d open the windows to keep it from becoming a sauna.”

“There are no windows here.” You laugh. “It’s just a cement box. It’s a good thing I convinced Plutarch to give us tank tops. Could you imagine trying to work in those jumpsuits?”

He practically rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t think you were given much of a choice.”

“Yeah, and neither were you.” He moves to the sink to wash his hands before returning to icing the cake.

He’s finally gotten to the final tier. It’s taken him almost two hours to do the top half with how intricate the design is. It’s a good thing that he’s talented in that aspect, all you can do is make the cake base taste good on its own.

You yawn, chin resting on your palm while you watch him create more waves. Your eyes flicker to the guards standing in the corner, who are here just in case Peeta has another one of his moments. He’s not himself yet, there are still times where he slips and freaks out. You’re sure you had them on the edge of their seat when you mentioned the family’s bakery.

“You can go, (Y/n).” Peeta tells you, backing off to fix the pipe in his hand. “I’m probably going to be here for a while longer to make the finishing touches.”

“Are you sure? I’m fine staying to keep you company.” You offer.

“No, it’s fine. I like the quiet.” He waves you off. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Will you be there tomorrow night for the wedding?”

“Most likely not, but feel free to visit me in the cell.”

You hold back your laugh, walking away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Peeta.”

“Goodnight.” He murmurs.

You push the door to leave the kitchen, shutting it gently behind you. A small hallway leads you directly into the dining area, where there’s dozens of picnic tables set up to eat at during the day. At this time of night, they should all be empty, but there’s one person here, sitting at the table closest to the walkway.

Johanna.

You plan to ignore her and head straight for your room a few floors up, when she clears her throat. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell her, not bothering to stop. She gets to her feet.

You can hear her shoes against the floor, and then you feel a hard poke into the back of your left shoulder. “This is a problem.”

Your jaw sets as you turn quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Do not touch me.”

“When Finnick told me you had those leaves on the back of your shoulder, I didn’t believe him.” She says, face twisted. “Now that I’ve seen them, it’s different.”

You throw her arm back at her. “It’s none of your business, like I told him.”

“It is my business.” She tells you. “Considering it’s your soulmate mark.”

“Why? So you can spread rumors about that, too?” You shoot back. “I’m bulletproof, Johanna. Your words ricochet. All you’re doing is making an ass of yourself.”

“I have the same mark, idiot.” She snaps.

The insults you have sizzling on your tongue begin to die. “What?”

“The falling leaves? I have the same mark on my ribs.” She unbuttons her jumpsuit, pulling it wide open to show you the pale skin inside. By the dim light provided in the dining room, you’re able to see that she’s telling the truth.

Your face contorts. “You have to be kidding.”

“I’m obviously not.” She fixes the jumpsuit.

“That’s unfortunate.” You spit. You were hoping that you’d have someone that you could stand to be around.

“I don’t mind.” She admits.

“Well, I do.” You tell her, she locks eyes with you. “I wanted someone I actually liked and could get along with, not some egocentric asshole.”

“Egocentric.” She echoes.

“Yes, because you’re apparently better than I am, don’t you remember that? I’m inferior, you said so yourself.” You tilt your head. “I also remember you calling me pompous, and conceited, and hedonistic, and vain. And of course, your personal favorite, selfish. All words that mean the same thing, not that you’d know that.”

You throw your hands out. “Just because I had a different strategy on how to win the Hunger Games. This is actually so fucking ridiculous that it’s not funny anymore.”

Johanna stares at you, not knowing what to say.

“I mind.” You emphasize, “Now leave me alone.”

–

The next few days are a new level of torture that you’re not quite used to. It seems that word travels fast in this bunker, because you’ve heard everyone’s opinion about the matter on your hands. As if what they think will make a difference or change your mind.

The good thing is that you’re used to this treatment to a certain extent. It’s what happened while you were mentoring. Which would be amusing, if you’re not tired of being treated this way. You’re right back to being scrutinized, this time for a new scenario.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you were informed earlier this afternoon that you’d have to participate in the wedding ceremony. Plutarch said he wasn’t going to pull you aside for an interview or demand you make a toast. He just wants you to be here, so that when they do catch you on camera, there’s a sense of camaraderie. Even if it’s clear on your face that you’d rather be elsewhere.

After working on that cake with Peeta for several days, you formed a friendship with him. You were hoping that they’d let him out so that you could talk to him throughout the wedding. They can’t risk it, not with Katniss in attendance. One wrong move and it could trigger him into another attack.

You’ve settled for blending in somewhere in the middle of the crowd. You’re keeping close to the front so you seem interested in the traditional dancing, but far away enough to the point you’ll be easily looked over. And you’re keeping your distance from Johanna, who’s still by the chairs on the other side of the room, because she hasn’t let the soulmate thing go.

She wants to fix what she broke, not caring that you’re uninterested. Maybe if she knew how to treat people with dignity, it wouldn’t have gone this far. Instead, she chose to make assumptions about you and ran with it. While telling the people around her that her beliefs are true.

You can’t stand her.

When the crowd comes to a lull, they decide to bring out the cake, the only thing you were still here for. You wanted to see the reactions of the people around you, that way you’d be able to report it back to Peeta later on. While you might not have done much besides building the foundation, he did a fantastic job of making sure that not a single detail was missed on that cake. He deserves every ounce of praise.

There’s gasps, low murmurs. They don’t announce who made and decorated the cake, only that it had taken the two of you days to complete it on time. Once Finnick and Annie have cut out their slice, you quietly slip out of the room, wanting to go back to your bed, tired after the long day.

You don’t even make it a step before the door is opening behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is, and see that it’s one of the many random people that were selected to participate.

“You’re a loyalist, aren’t you?” He asks, tone threatening.

“Excuse me?” You ask, slowing down.

“That’s why you kiss-ass when it comes to the Capitol.” He’s walking in your direction. “Always defendin’ them.”

District Twelve. The people of Thirteen don’t cut corners with words, a lot of the people of Katniss and Peeta’s district do, whether they realize it or not.

“I don’t defend the Capitol.”

“Your interviews said otherwise.”

“Those were done years ago.” Your face twists. “I was a teenager when I was being asked those questions.”

“That doesn’t change anythin’. My skin crawls just knowin’ you’re sleepin’ on the same floor as me.”

“Then sleep on a different floor.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “You have a problem with something that isn’t even real. If I was a loyalist, would I have helped the rebels get Katniss out of the arena?”

“You left them behind.”

You roll your eyes, unable to help it. You were hoping you’d be through with this, but it seems as if Johanna’s words will continue to follow you. And now, they’re going to get you into some questionable situations. They aren’t dangerous for you, though. It is for him, coming up to you like this. You’ll flatten him on the concrete.

You take a step toward him, planning to teach him some manners when the door opens behind him, stopping you. Johanna’s face is screwed tight. “Leave her alone.”

The man scoffs. “I’d be doin’ us a favor, gettin’ rid of her.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She snaps, striding forward to grab him, yanking him back. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll break every bone in your body.”

The tone of voice keeps him from pressing her further, raising his hands in defeat. He gives you a look before twisting out of her grasp, going back to join the party.

You eye Johanna for a second, “I don’t need your help.”

“I know.” She heads for the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t step in.”

You catch the look she sends your way before leaving the hallway. If this is what she plans to do in order to make you forgive her, she’ll be doing it for the rest of her life, because it’s practically meaningless to you.

Still, you suppose that you can give her some credit for trying.

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

299 notes · View notes

snwpcktz · 1 year ago

Text

A GAME OF CRUELTY (pt. 1)

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader (ft. heeseung)

GENRE: hunger games au (pre second rebellion), neighbors to friends to lovers, angst

SYNOPSIS: after years of praying to not get picked for the reaping, the odds end up not being in y/n’s favor and she is chosen as district 7’s female tribute. she plans to simply sacrifice herself early, since it would be nearly impossible for her to beat all the other tributes and make it back safely to her now ex-boyfriend, ethan. but her perspective of the games change when her next door neighbor, jay, is chosen as the male tribute—and maybe her feelings towards him will change, too.

WARNINGS: mature themes (violence, death), major character death, descriptions of violence and injuries, love triangle, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the binary genders to refer to the reaping tributes

WC: 10.3k

NOTE: hello hello !! the first part of my hunger games fic is finally here!! again, i tried to keep things as accurate as i could but this is set in the year before katniss and peeta were reaped, which means i don’t have a lot of set info to use. there will be a pt. 2, so if you’d like to be tagged pls reply to this post or my wips page! thank you and i hope you enjoy the read!! <3

reaping day. the most dreaded day every single year.

every year, two children between the ages of twelve and eighteen would be chosen as tributes to participate in the annual hunger games. they would fight against twenty-two other tributes to death, leaving only one survivor as the victor of the games. it was cruel, vicious, and the reason why y/n couldn't sleep peacefully every summer night.

y/n exited her house with a slip of paper in her hand. her boyfriend, ethan lee, had just sent her a little note asking for her to meet him in a nearby forest. it was the last year he would be reaped, so y/n brought a deer trinket from the local market as a gift.

once she locked her front door, she took a quick look around her neighborhood. it was like any other day in district 7, except that anyone could sense the dread in every single civilian's face. parents, grandparents, and children alike all held the same expression.

it only soured y/n’s mood. being the only child of her family, y/n’s mother stressed every single year over the possibility that her daughter could be chosen for a game that leads straight to death. it broke y/n’s heart to see her mother cry next to their fireplace every night, praying that her only child wouldn’t become a victim of the games.

her father wasn’t any different. although he was a man of few emotions, y/n could see how relieved he was when her name wasn’t called out during past reapings. his way of showing care was by teaching her how to throw axes from a young age. although he claimed that it was just a skill for her to use in “necessary circumstances”, y/n knew that he meant for it to be used in case she got reaped.

clutching onto the deer trinket tightly, y/n began her trek to the forest. it wasn’t uncommon for her to meet up with ethan in a forest--after all, they lived in district 7. the sounds of birds chirping filled her ears as she entered the area, accompanied by the droplets of rain falling from the night before.

she stepped over logs of wood on the ground, most likely left over from a recent lumber job. passing by the stream that marked the center of the forest, y/n made a sharp right turn, walking in the direction of the border to district 9.

y/n stopped several meters away from the fence that marked the border, decorated with large warning signs. she scanned the area around her but there was no sight of ethan.

“ethan?” she called out, her voice reaching to the dense tops of the forest.

it was silent for a moment before she heard movement above. “up here.”

she snapped her head towards the sound, now noticing ethan on top of a tree branch. he pushed himself off, landing safely on both feet on the padded ground.

“hey,” he said, approaching y/n.

“hey,” she whispered.

they stood in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the seconds they could spare with each other. y/n was the first to speak, fiddling with the metal trinket in her hand.

“i brought you this,” she began, holding out the deer-shaped item to him. “take it as a good luck charm.”

ethan’s hand gently took the trinket, running his thumb over its grooves. his lips curled into a smile as he responded, “thanks, y/n.”

but the smile didn’t last. he swallowed thickly before continuing, “so, uh, i asked to meet you to tell you something.”

y/n nodded. “i’m listening.”

ethan paused for a moment, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. “we…we need to break up.”

y/n could feel her heart drop. her breathing slowed as her mouth ran dry. she couldn’t understand the sudden request. hadn’t she been a good girlfriend?

“w- what?” she spluttered. “why?”

“it’s reaping day,” ethan solemnly stated.

“yeah, but this happens every year!” y/n retorted, feeling frustration rise in her voice. “plus, it’s your last year being reaped!”

“that’s the point, y/n!” ethan groaned, brows furrowing. “it’s my last year! do you know how many times i’ve applied for tesserae? my name’s in there twenty fucking times, y/n.”

y/n gulped. she knew ethan’s family wasn’t well off and that he had family members he needed to provide for, but she didn’t expect that he applied for tesserae that often. she could feel tears well up in her eyes, heartbroken for his situation.

“i have such a high chance of getting picked,” ethan whispered, worry clouding his eyes. he delicately held y/n’s hands, causing her to raise her head. “if i die, i don’t want you to hold onto me.”

“you’re not getting picked!” y/n screamed, ripping her hands away from his. “ethan, you’re the only man i love! you can’t just end things like this!”

she crumbled to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, feeling the gentle rubs of ethan’s hand on her head.

“it's not fair!" she wailed. “it’s not fucking fair!” deep down, y/n knew that ethan was right--he did have a higher chance of being picked, and that tore her apart.

"nothing is fair here," ethan mumbled, hand tangled in her hair. "but i just want you to know that if i do get picked, please...take care of my family for me."

y/n sniffled and nodded her head. "thanks," ethan whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

a sudden gust of strong wind blew onto them, causing both of them to look up. a blimp flew across the forest, stripping trees of loose leaves and ground of dry dirt. they both immediately knew what it meant, sharing a look together.

"it's time."

rows of teenagers stood in front of the hall of justice, surrounded by members of the capitol with cameras and film equipment. peacekeepers had already flooded the district, running identification checks and bordering the area for the reaping. y/n could still feel her finger throbbing from the prick she received mere minutes ago as she stood in line.

the large screens next to the stage had already began running, displaying the various members of district 7. y/n could spot a pixelated version of herself, clad in a modest white sundress and matching white ballet flats. she turned her head to the left, spotting ethan standing in his row in no time.

but he wasn't looking at her. he kept his head forward, a solemn gaze on his face. y/n turned her head back around, letting out a pained sigh. she knew that whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment could never be experienced by her, a girl who lived in an only child household in a moderately well off neighborhood. but she couldn't help but feel selfish, desperately wanting ethan to be spared from the cruel hands of the reaping.

so she prayed. she clasped her hands together and lowered her head. please, she thought. please don't pick ethan. please let the odds be in his favor, just this once.

the sounds of footsteps coming to a stop and doors opening caused y/n to raise her head, eyes now fixated on the marble building in the front. members of the district government and previous victors of district 7 entered the stage, followed by a woman with a bright smile on her face.

luxurious, velvety, emerald green clothing adorned her body along with a matching sun hat and dozens of gold jewelry. her heels clicked on the wooden stage as she made her way towards the podium, perfectly glossed lips framing her pearly smile.

"welcome! welcome, welcome," she announced, her cheery voice echoing throughout the area. "once again, i am your district escort, tiffany young! happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

tiffany cleared her throat before continuing, "now! before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the capitol!"

she raised her glove-clothed arm towards the screen as a video began playing. "war. terrible war," president snow's voice boomed from the speakers.

y/n noticed several girls around her rolling their eyes. she couldn't blame them. it was boring having to watch the same video every single year, especially when it did barely any justification for the games.

she turned her head to look behind her at the crowd of parents. she spotted her mom, head down and whispering words, most likely prayers for her daughter. her father was next to her, a comforting arm wrapped around his wife as he stoically stared at the screen.

it was just like every year. what was there to worry about?

y/n glanced at ethan. he had the same expression as her father, but she could see that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. a soft sigh left her lips. there was one thing to worry about--ethan.

she decided to pray once more, lowering her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

please, pick anyone but ethan. i beg for you to spare him.

"this is how we remember our past," the voice of president snow stated. "this is how we safeguard our future."

"what a remarkable film!" tiffany gushed as the music began to quiet. "now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 7 in the 73rd annual hunger games."

y/n felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched the escort's smile grow. "as usual, ladies first."

tiffany walked to the reaping bowl with poise, heels echoing in the silence that overwhelmed the district. she reached a gloved hand in, fishing for an entry slip. she gently selected one, returning to the podium elegantly.

tiffany took the liberty to clear her throat as she undid the delicate tape on the paper slip. she glanced at the crowd before announcing the name with a smile.

"y/n l/n."

the world stopped for a moment. y/n couldn't prevent the ringing in her ears as her lips parted in shock. the pounding in her chest increased to a ridiculous speed as the girls around her turned, isolating her from the crowd. her hands grew clammy as tiffany laid her eyes on her, the smile on her face appearing more sinister than before.

"come on up, dear!" the escort called, her voice sounding sickly sweet in y/n's ears.

y/n's feet moved slowly, dragging against the gravel on the ground as she passed by her fellow civilians. she didn't dare to look up from her pathway, shrinking at the feeling of thousands of eyes on her.

she could feel the peacekeepers behind her place their hands on her back, guiding her to the stage. her eyes were shaking, losing sight of each step she was taking.

she grasped onto the railing of the stairs, barely feeling the soles of her feet. she could see tiffany at the top of the stairs, reaching a hand out to her. "come, come!" she said to y/n, gesturing to her with her hand.

y/n gratefully took it, allowing the texture of her velvet gloves to bring her back to reality. tiffany placed her other hand on her shoulder, gently leading her to the left side of the podium.

"well, let's have a big hand for our first tribute, y/n l/n!" tiffany declared into the microphone.

the weak applause clouded y/n's head, contrasting the striking speed her heart was thumping at. she used the last of her strength and consciousness to lift her head, searching the crowd in front of her.

she could spot her mother's face, frozen with shock and panic. her father's mouth was open, completely bewildered and in disbelief. y/n moved her eyes to the crowd of teen boys, where she found ethan already staring straight at her, a fresh tear sliding down his cheek.

y/n swallowed thickly, not breaking the eye contact. here she was, standing on a stage that she never thought she would be standing on. her lips quivered as she gained the strength to mouth an "i love you", triggering a rush of tears to ethan's eyes.

she chose to cut the eye contact after that, unable to watch her ex-lover cry. she stared straight at the wooden floor, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"and now for the boys!" tiffany stated.

the escort walked to the reaping bowl on the opposite end of the stage, quickly plucking a slip from its depths and returning to the podium. she let out a small hum before unfolding the slip.

"jay park."

y/n raised her head to look at the crowd. the boys had distanced themselves from the said person, who looked just as surprised as y/n was when she was chosen.

y/n recognized him. he was her next door neighbor, a boy known for being respectful and hard-working. at just a year older than y/n, he was preparing to enter the workforce full-time, learning the ups and downs of his family's lumber business. he was known to be skilled with axes and saws, his muscular arms and broad chest proof of it all.

he wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, dark hair slicked with gel and neatly combed. the peacekeepers guided him to the stage, his dress shoes sounding every step he took up the wooden stairs. he stood on the other side of the podium, observing the crowd from his new perspective.

y/n turned to ethan, a part of her relieved that he wasn't picked. but he clearly did not feel the same, his eyes now red and cheeks stained with tears. he looked at y/n so hopelessly, it made her feel ashamed for feeling even a bit of relief.

"shake hands, you two!" tiffany's voice said, snapping y/n out of her trance.

she glanced at jay, whose eyes were already on her. they quickly joined hands, jay's large one wrapping around y/n's shaking one.

"happy hunger games!" tiffany announced, her smile brighter than before. "and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n had spent the last few minutes curled up in the corner of a room in the hall of justice, sobbing to herself as she processed what just happened. in the span of just several minutes, she had been chosen as a tribute for her district in a game of death.

her grip on her knees tightened. although her father had somewhat prepared her for this scenario, there was no way in hell that she would survive the hunger games. sure, she knew how to throw axes and she was pretty good at climbing trees, but she was sure that it was nothing compared to what other tributes can do.

she felt her tears flood out as she fell into a hole of despair. it was impossible for her to win, huh? i'll just die first, she decided, choking out her sobs. i'll die first so that my parents won't gain false hope. i won't let them waste tears over me.

the creak from the door opening caught y/n's attention. a peacekeeper held it open, allowing her parents to step inside the room. "you have three minutes," he stated before shutting the door.

y/n immediately stood up, running to her parents. "mom! dad!"

her mother engulfed her in a tight hug, warm tears falling onto y/n's shoulders. "my precious, sweet little baby...why is the world so cruel to you?" she whispered, her voice thick with anguish.

y/n only cried harder, burying her face into her mother's neck. "you don't deserve this, baby," her mother weeped. "you deserve to live a happy, long life with us."

"m- mom, i'm gonna die," y/n babbled, feeling her words slur after crying for so long.

"don't say that, please," her mother begged. y/n could feel more droplets of warmth land on her shoulder. "please, please! don't ever say that again."

"y/n, you have to try your best," her father's voice reasoned. "you need to fight until the end."

y/n could only cry more, letting out a gut-wrenching scream. "i- i don't wanna leave so early..."

she could feel her mother squeeze tighter as her sobs got louder. "baby, y- you know we love you so, so much, right?"

"yes, mom...o- of course i know."

"please, live. for us."

the sound of the door opening caused y/n to hold onto her mother tighter, watching the peacekeepers heard towards her parents through her swollen eyes.

"no! stop!" she yelled, gripping onto her mother's arm. she could feel another peacekeeper restrain her from behind, ripping her away from her parents.

she wailed, pushing away the peacekeeper. she watched her mom get dragged out of the room, burying her face in her hands as her back shook from the intensity of her sobbing. her father turned around, sending a solemn smile to her.

she watched a stream of liquid drop from her father's eye. it was the first time she saw her father cry.

the door slammed shut for a moment before it reopened, a tall man entering with a peacekeeper at his tail.

"ethan!" y/n ran to the boy, who let her press her puffy face on his chest.

he rested his head on top of hers, hugging her hair while closing his eyes. "i thought it was going to be me," he whispered, breath shaky. "but it turned out to be much more worse than that."

he gently cupped y/n's face before bending down, swiftly connecting their lips. wet with tears, their lips molded against one another, filled with desperation and despair.

they separated after a moment, allowing ethan press his lips against y/n's forehead as she sniffled. "i still love you, y/n."

his words only caused her to choke out another sob. "i'll love you forever. you know i love you so."

the dreaded door opened once again as a peacekeeper pulled on ethan's arm, forcing him away from her. his eyes welled with tears once more as he mouthed another "i love you" before the door shut, physically separating the two.

y/n collapsed to the ground, screaming as she punched the ground with her fist. i love you too, ethan.

after what seemed like hours of crying and peacekeepers forcing her into a carriage, y/n had somewhat collected herself, lightly sniffling as she gazed out of the window.

tiffany seemed almost unaffected by the girl, chattering about the capitol to jay with a grin on her face. she would spare a glance at y/n every so often, but decided to not speak to her, assuming that she wanted some personal space in the cramped carriage.

before they knew it, they had arrived at the train station. "just an hour and we will arrive at the capitol!" tiffany cheered as they boarded the train.

as soon as they entered, the tributes were greeted with luxury they had only dreamed about before. crystal chandeliers, gold-plated silverware, and plush cushions were laid out just for them. glass displays held varieties of baked sweets and savory bites, followed by an impressive selection of beverages stored in crystal pitchers.

y/n’s mouth gaped at the sight, slowly stepping into the train cabin. of course, the capitol is different.

“now, now, sit down children!” tiffany sweetly said, guiding the two with gloved hands on their backs to a table. “i’ll be back in just a moment!”

y/n hesitantly sat down in a chair that was much too lavish for her, practically swallowing her in the lush cushioning. jay followed in suit, seating himself next to her.

“this is insane,” jay muttered, eyes fixated on the delicate china set on the table.

y/n hummed in response, blinking her swollen eyes as she took in her surroundings. “it’s crazy how we went from being neighbors to sacrificing ourselves for our district,” she mumbled, a frown etched onto her face.

jay could only sigh at the comment. one day, they were going about their daily errands, chatting as the children of families who lived next door. the next, they were seated in a high-speed rail train on the way to the capitol, where their desperate battle for survival would be broadcasted for all of panem to see.

“y/n, jay, i want to introduce you to someone!” tiffany’s bubbly voice rang.

the escort approached the table, followed by a woman sporting a coffee brown blazer and a matching pencil skirt. her raven black hair was highlighted with scarlet red streaks, all tied back into a ponytail that moved from side to side with each step she took.

she slid into the seat across from y/n, a cold expression on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “this is johanna mason, victor of the 71st hunger games!” tiffany introduced, elegantly seating herself next to the said woman. “she will be your mentor as a victor from district 7.”

silence overcame the room. y/n and jay stared at johanna expectingly, who was avoiding their gazes by locking her eyes onto the table in front of her. tiffany sat perfectly straight, her smile slightly faltering at the sudden change in volume.

“well,” she said, standing up and brushing off her velvet skirt. “i will leave you three to it!”

her emerald green stilettos clicked against the hard floor as she moved to a cabin next door.

“so, you’re the unlucky pair that got pulled into the games this year,” johanna grumbled, eyeing both of the tributes. “i’m not someone who’ll sugarcoat things, so you both better be fucking prepared for what i’m about to say.”

y/n and jay nodded, eager to hear from a fellow district citizen and a victor of the games.

“you have literally no chance of winning.”

johanna’s words caused y/n’s heart to drop. she could tell that jay was experiencing the same, tension quickly swarming around the table.

“but you have a good chance of surviving longer if you follow my advice,” she continued, resting her elbows on the polished table.

johanna picked up a gold butter knife, running her fingers along the edges. "you're not a career district, but you're not the most disadvantaged. that's what 7 is--always stuck in the middle. lumber is all we're known for, so everyone who watches the games knows that we can handle our axes. but don't let them think that."

she stabbed the table with the knife, causing both of the tributes to flinch. "you need to act weak," johanna declared, looking at both of them in the eye. "that's how i won. make them believe you won't survive anyway, hide, and attack at the last moment. fool them. use their stupidity to your advantage. that's the only way a middleman can win."

she turned to jay, ponytail following her head movement. "you. jay park, seventeen. i heard you're already in the lumber business."

"yes, ma'am," jay replied, a little intimidated by johanna's stare.

"don't call me that, it makes you sound like a pussy," johanna spat, leaning back in her seat. "call me johanna."

"yes, johanna."

she let out a hum of approval. "are you good with any weapons?"

"i've worked with axes and saws," jay answered. "i've done mostly chopping, cutting, and sanding my whole life. some heavy lifting and business communication, too."

"great, strength and customer service," johanna summarized with a nod. she turned her head to the right, locking her eyes onto y/n. "now you. y/n, seventeen. any experience with weapons?"

"my father taught me how to throw axes since i was little," y/n responded. she found herself fiddling with the hem of her dress, nervous for her new mentor's reaction.

"axe throwing, i like it," johanna replied. "unfortunately, there are no throwable axes offered in the games, so you're sort of fucked there."

y/n felt her breath hitch. before she could speak, johanna continued, playing with the knife stuck in the table, "but knife throwing isn't far from axe throwing. plus, if you train enough, you might be able to throw the axes they have."

y/n let out the breath she was holding in, somewhat relieved by her mentor's response. she had never felt so grateful towards her father.

"now, this whole week is dedicated to preparing for the games," johanna stated, changing the topic at hand. "you will spend your time training, being interviewed, being tested, and kissing up to sponsors. unfortunately for you both, your first day has already started."

the windows of the train transitioned from dark to light, beams of sun flowing into the cabin. a huge body of water could be seen surrounding hundreds of high-rise buildings made with sleek designs and accompanied with phenomenal technology.

johanna eyed the two tributes with astonished looks on their face, curling her lips into a small smirk. "welcome to the capitol, bitches."

y/n stood next to a chariot, adjusting the corset on her body. she had just spent the last few hours being completely tortured, aka hours of waxing and plucking. if that wasn't enough, her stylist completely ridiculed her for having a puffy face after crying, embarrassing her in front of the whole prep team.

she had never wanted to go home so badly.

but here she was, dressed like a capitol darling in getup she could have never pictured herself in. a forest green corset was bound tightly around her waist, hugging the black long-sleeved bodysuit embroidered with gold leaves underneath. a matching black maxi skirt was wrapped right under the corset, with layers ruffled and seams sewed with gold thread.

thick, gold hoops hung from her ears and gold cuffs banded her wrists. her hair was combed and let down, decorated with a single gold barrette embellished with emeralds. her eyes flaunted deep, green eyeshadow shimmering with gold pearlescent glitter and long, curled and lengthened eyelashes. her lips were painted with a warm brown lipstick, matching the color of her nail polish.

y/n had never felt so out of place. she shifted her weight, feeling uneasy standing in such tall heels. how do people in the capitol dress like this everyday?

her eyes caught jay heading to the chariot, adjusting his own gold cuffs. his chest was covered with forest green armor, accented with gold leaves. his biceps were framed with a long-sleeve compression shirt, perfectly sculpting the curves of the muscles. black slacks accentuated his long legs, held on his waist by a black and gold belt. his hair was slicked back and his ears were cuffed with gold earrings. glittery green eyeliner bordered his eyes and his lips were plush and pink- wait, why was she looking at his lips?

y/n blinked. she couldn't believe how stylish (and incredibly attractive) her next door neighbor looked. the most they had seen each other in were the formal attire they wore for reaping day every year to look somewhat acceptable on public television. but now, now she understood why he was such a hot topic among the girls in her neighborhood.

jay's eyes met hers and he flashed a small smile, finishing his trek to the chariot. "you look amazing," he said, a few strands of gelled hair slipping out of place and framing his forehead.

"same goes for you," y/n breathed out, sending back a smile of her own.

they could hear a dramatic gasp and turned, spotting tiffany and johanna heading towards them. "my darlings, you look absolutely stunning!" tiffany squealed, clapping her hands as she walked.

"trees, trees, trees," johanna groaned. "that's all that damn stylist can do. get some fucking creativity, people!"

"johanna!" tiffany yelped, slapping the mentor on the shoulder. she faced the tributes once again, adorning a bubbly smile. "well, i think you both look absolutely wonderful."

"at least it's better than mine, i guess," johanna grumbled, crossing her arms. "now, today is all about beginning to attract some fans. act friendly, smile, and wave. don't do anything stupid and you'll be fine."

the static from a speaker could be heard as caesar flickerman appeared on a screen. "that's our cue to go!' tiffany exclaimed. "we'll see you later, darlings! and remember, smile!"

their escort and mentor left, following the crowd of other district team members. jay let out a soft sigh before saying, "it's time for us to get ready, then."

y/n hummed. jay stood next to the entrance of the chariot and held out a hand. "ladies first," he stated with a smile.

thump! y/n was glad she had a full face of makeup on to hide the heat spreading on her cheeks. she delicately took his hand, feeling her heartbeat increase as she stepped onto the chariot and held onto his gentle hand.

jay followed after her, accidentally brushing his shoulder against hers. she could feel the warmth radiating from his body due to their close proximity. her hands gripped the railing of the chariot, squeezing the metal tighter as she tried to not focus on the boy next to her.

the crowd outside began to grow louder as the first chariots were released. she could hear caesar flickerman from the screen, gushing with claudius templesmith about each of the tributes' stylistic costumes.

before she knew it, the horses in front of her began moving, pulling their chariot closer to the entrance. bright stage lights shone in y/n's eyes, blinding her for a second.

she felt jay place his right hand on her left, tapping her two times. "smile, y/n."

and so she did. y/n parted her lips to reveal the most dazzling smile she could, the sound of cheers filling her ears. but she missed the sweet smile jay gave her as her eyes adjusted to the new lighting.

the unsteady movement beneath her feet and the overwhelming amount of viewers caused her stomach to churn, but the hand on top of hers provided her a newfound source of comfort. she swiveled her head around, making sure to keep her bright smile plastered on her face.

the audience was full of people sporting vibrant garments and bizarre accessories. colored eyelashes the length of a hand, dyed hair in all sorts of purples and pinks, and puffy sleeves adorning shoulder after shoulder. it was beyond anything y/n could've imagined wearing, but here she was, standing in almost identical clothing while they observed her like a character in a game.

after all, that was all she was to them--a new addition to their cruel game that they watched eagerly every single year. to the ultra-wealthy, it was all fun and entertainment. but to her, it was a one-way ticket to her death.

she felt the smile on her face falter, gulping before stretching the corners of her lips wider. now was not the time to think about those things. she needed to attract sponsors to gain even a minute more of survival in the arena.

so she stood up straighter, flashing her most welcoming face that she could. the heat from the torches that they sped past only added to the adrenaline rush she felt running through her veins. her eyes flickered to the dual screens above the audience, catching the cameras filming their chariot.

she glanced at jay, who's smile was just as charming as ever. his jawline was firm and sharp, a charismatic feature that the capitol's cameras easily captured. his eyes shone with determination, a look that many could only find in the careers.

y/n felt a sense of pride in the moment. proud to have jay as her partner, proud to hear positive reactions from the audience, and proud to be from district 7.

the horses made a turn, slowing their pace down as they brought the chariot to a stop. a gust of air brushed past them as they left the heat of the runway, ending their time in the spotlight of the tribute parade.

y/n allowed her lips to relax, scanning the environment around her. the last few chariots were filing in, all carrying tributes dressed just as extravagantly as them. she watched as the sponsors in the audience screamed with energy, enjoying the last moments of the parade.

she could see the cameras pan to a podium above the tributes and turned to face it. there president snow stood, waving to the crowd with a small smile.

the audience grew quiet as he cleared his throat. "welcome. tributes, we welcome you," president snow announced. "we salute your courage and your sacrifice. and we wish you, happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n felt her eye twitch at his words. before she knew it, the chariots began to move again, pulling all of the tributes out of the spotlight as the crowd cheered one last time.

in just a couple of more days, y/n had found herself on the last day of training.

johanna had taught her the differences between throwing knives and throwing axes, and so she had adjusted her training accordingly. she had quite a bit of trouble at the beginning, but eventually adapted to the new weapon quickly.

now, she was more determined than ever to try her hardest in the games, no matter what it took.

she practiced climbing structures and creating fires with jay. they talked more over identifying sources of water, studying types of infection, and spying on the other tributes. jay had taught her how to properly use a tactical axe and y/n had showed him how to aim weapons in long-range fights.

she learned that jay was talented at cooking and often tried new recipes for dinners on weekends. he informed her about the small pieces of etiquette he picked up on at formal business meetings at meals in their apartment. within just two days, she found herself closer than ever to her next door neighbor.

they shared secret smiles during training sessions, had late-night talks after hot showers, and gave each other words of encouragement every morning. he cut her steak for her at dinner, she wiped his sweat after training, and they held hands on the way to the basement of the training center, squeezing each other tightly as a way of supporting each other.

they had become close friends in such a short span of time, but they wouldn't tell each other about the deeper feelings that were brewing in their chests.

johanna slapped both of their backs as they stood in the elevator on the way to their private training sessions, where they would be officially scored by the gamemakers. "now, i would say act weak, but you two have showed off way too much during your training," she spoke, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"so instead, go for something more average," she instructed. "like a seven. or a six. miss two shots but hit one. you won't get as many sponsors but at least you'll be off of some of the tributes' radars."

johanna sent both of them a small grin. "good luck to you two, and be as average as you can!"

her words caused both of the tributes to chuckle, exiting the elevator once the doors opened. "bye, johanna!" y/n called, waving to their mentor.

johanna just leaned against the glass windows of the elevator, shaking her head with a smile.

the two district 7 tributes entered the gymnasium's waiting room through automatic sliding doors, finding many other tributes already sitting inside. thick tension clouded the room, causing the small smiles on their faces to drop.

they were finally here on their last day of training, two days before the games would begin.

they sat down on stools labeled with their district's number, eyeing the other tributes warily. the careers sat with confidence in the front, cocky as ever with smirks on their faces. on the opposite end, the lower districts were hunched and fidgeting, anxious for the evaluation.

once again, y/n and jay stood in the middle, both figuratively and literally. y/n swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a little parched. sure, she had trained long and hard to adapt to knife throwing, but her skills were definitely not on par with a career who had been throwing knives her whole life.

she glanced at the district 1 female tribute, who was giggling at something her partner had said. y/n had observed her throughout their training sessions, taking the time to understand her style of fighting and her precise aim. y/n wasn't unaware of her surroundings either, finding the tribute's gaze on her multiple times.

she fiddled with her fingers, suddenly feeling her hands grow clammy. "jay," she whispered, catching the boy's attention who responded with a soft hum. "do...do you think we can ever defeat the careers?"

jay glanced up, taking a quick look at them before replying, "well, they're not invincible, are they?"

y/n let out a soft chuckle at his words. "sure, they attended a special training academy and whatever, but we've played around with axes since we could hold a pencil," he continued, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "like johanna said, we just need to deceive them to win. after all, we might not need to fight them for them to die. a nasty ego is just as bad as a sword through the chest."

jay gave her one last pat on the shoulder before facing her. "don't underestimate yourself. you've worked hard and deserve to show off a little."

y/n smiled, gazing into his kind eyes. "thanks, jay," she said. "you deserve it, too."

he smiled back, staring straight into hers. they sat in a comfortable silence, neither of them breaking the eye contact. y/n was thankful that the room wasn't dead silent, otherwise everyone could hear how loudly her heart was thumping.

the warmth in his eyes, easing all of the tension in her body. the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at her. the reflection of the light in his eyes, highlighting his soothing gaze.

for a moment, she swore that she saw jay's eyes flicker to her lips. but the sound of an alarm interrupted their silence, catching the attention of all the tributes.

"the private training sessions will begin now."

y/n let out a quick breath, seeing jay do the same in her peripheral vision. she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her head in her hands. how could she think about anything else other than the evaluations at hand?

but no matter how stressed her mind was, it couldn't stop the pounding in her chest. heat rose to her cheeks as she replayed the moment in her head, remembering the split second jay eyed her lips.

time flew by as her head ached, split between worrying about her private session and processing the feelings in her heart. she felt ashamed with herself--it had not been long since ethan broke up with her and she was confident that she still had feelings for him. so why was her heart fluttering around another man?

before she knew it, district 6's tributes had finished up and the waiting room was half empty. "district 7, y/n l/n," the electronic voice announced.

y/n stood up, stretching her limbs before heading towards the gymnasium entrance.

"hey y/n!" a voice called through the silence.

she turned around, looking at jay, who now had everyone's attention. "be average," he said with a grin, causing y/n to smile.

"you too," she replied, pointing at him.

she could hear him chuckle as she left through the sliding doors, taking one more deep breath before entering the gymnasium. the training room was cold, with little light illuminating the large area. she could hear the chatter of the gamemakers in a room above, observing their little festivities with food and drinks.

y/n walked to the marking in the center of the room, making sure to look at all of her surroundings. three targets shaped like humans were placed at a certain distance from her marked spot. to her left was a spread of different knives, all set neatly on a placemat and a table.

she turned around to face the gamemakers, who were enjoying their cocktails above. "y/n l/n, district 7," she introduced herself, catching the attention of the head gamemaker, seneca crane.

he swallowed his sip before nodding to her, prompting her to begin her chosen skill. she picked up a knife, gripping the wooden handle tightly.

she held her breath, focusing her eyes on the target and balancing herself. be average. she let her eyes lower before throwing the knife as powerfully as she could.

the thigh. not a critical area but definitely a shot that could cause lots of pain. she heard some pleased reactions and some mocking chuckles from the gamemakers.

y/n continued, grabbing a longer knife. she planted her feet, eyed her target, and threw the weapon.

the edge of the arm. another painful area, but not a critical one. definitely less impressive than her last shot. she heard more chuckles this time but didn't mind them.

she brushed her hands over the rest of the knives, taking the time to weigh her options. she decided on a thicker knife, with more weight and less speed.

she stood on the marking, once again. she took in a sharp breath, holding it as she positioned herself. eyes straight on the target, soles flat on the floor, and arm in the air, tensing with energy. she threw with all her might, a shout coming from her lips.

right smackdown in the heart. she huffed, staring at her work in disbelief. a few whistles and weak applause could be heard from the gamemakers as she faced them and bowed, taking her leave.

she was met with johanna and tiffany at the entrance of the district 7 apartment, who clapped loudly for her.

"that was wonderful, darling!" tiffany cheered, flaunting a hot pink tulle dress and matching accessories. "you did amazing!"

"great job on being mediocre, y/n," johanna commented with a chuckle. "that last shot was nice, though. definitely will bring you some sponsors."

"thanks, guys," y/n replied with a smile.

"come, come! jay's evaluation is playing," tiffany said, ushering y/n to the couch in front of the television screen.

she sat down on the soft cushion, shimmying a bit to get more comfortable with the skin-tight training clothing she was wearing. johanna stood behind her, resting her arms on the frame of the couch as tiffany elegantly sat down.

y/n could see jay on the screen with a tactical axe in hand. he swung the weapon around, hitting vital spots of the dummies surrounding him. the camera panned to the gamemakers, broadcasting their impressed faces as they discussed his skills.

he finished up by chucking his axe straight at a dummy’s head, the weapon slicing the head straight down the middle. jay took a moment to catch his breath before bowing in front of the gamemakers, ending district 7’s private training sessions.

y/n gulped. she knew jay was good, but the evaluations showed her a new side of him. one that was vicious, determined, and confident. there was no doubt that he would be a threat in the arena.

the television screen flickered off and tiffany stood up immediately, clapping her hands. “marvelous! just marvelous!” she gushed. “what talented tributes we have this year!”

“you should’ve seen the beginning, he purposely dropped the axe on a dummy’s foot,” johanna said with a light laugh. “i think he took my advice a little too seriously.”

y/n snickered at the comment, standing up from the couch. “he’ll be here any minute now!” tiffany exclaimed, rushing to the door to greet him.

as soon as y/n and johanna caught up to the escort, the door opened, revealing jay with a tired smile on his face. sweat stuck his loose hair to his forehead and his chest puffed with each breath he took.

“darling, you were outstanding!” tiffany squealed, patting him on the back. “just wonderful! the sponsors should be piling in as we speak!”

“nice job, jay,” johanna complimented. “i liked the part where you dropped the axe on the foot.”

jay chuckled, giving the mentor a playful glare. his eyes shifted to y/n, who was already smiling with pride.

“you did amazing, jay,” she said, causing him to grin.

“thanks, y/n. you did well, too.”

“now, wash up, children! i don’t want this apartment to be reeking of sweat!” tiffany ordered, prancing off to the kitchen. “and remember that they will broadcast the results this evening!”

after an afternoon of resting, a hearty dinner, and a lighthearted sunset watch, the district 7 team sat around the television screen, patiently waiting for their results. caesar flickerman held a rare serious expression on his face as he relayed all the information off of his cards.

the room was filled with a thick silence with everyone sitting perfectly still. the anticipation grew every minute as everyone watched eagerly, paying close attention to the other tributes' scores. per usual, the careers scored high, with the district 2 male scoring an eleven. y/n chewed on her bottom lip, the worry at the back of her mind beginning to grow.

there was less than 48 hours before she would be in the arena, fighting against each and every one of the tributes displayed on the screen.

once the district 6 tributes' results finished up, y/n could feel her heart beating unbelievably fast. it was the first time a test result could determine life or death for her, and the tension in her body came to an all-time high.

as caesar flickerman changed his cards, y/n felt a hand creep towards hers, gently intertwining their fingers. she turned to her left, spotting jay mouthing an "it's okay" to her. her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself down, forcing herself to breathe slower.

jay gave her a quick nod before facing the screen once again. "from district 7, y/n l/n..."

y/n whipped her head to the screen, not blinking once as the world stilled around her. she could feel herself squeeze jay's hand tighter, holding her breath for a single moment.

"...with a score of six."

she released the breath she was holding, relaxing her grip on jay's hand. she could feel johanna pat her shoulder in approval. "that was very average, y/n. an exact 50%."

a part of y/n was glad that she would be able to escape the careers' watch, but another part of her was worried about receiving little support from sponsors. but she chose to not fret about that as she flinched at how strongly jay held onto her hand.

she glanced at him, realizing that it was the first time she saw jay so visibly anxious. the typically calm and laid-back boy was now tense and nervous, a light sweat forming on his forehead. she could feel his palms grow clammy as he clutched her hand tighter, awaiting his results.

"and from district 7, jay park...with a score of eight."

cheers erupted from the room, a delightful squeal coming from tiffany. "jay, darling, you are spectacular!" she gushed, clasping her gloved hands together.

"great job, jay," johanna said with a nod. "but you'll have to be careful now. you're on par with the careers, which means that you've spiked their interest."

"nice job, jay!" y/n exclaimed, taking his hand into both of hers. he grinned and replied, "yours was good, too."

"well, all that's left for you two is to charm the audience tomorrow!" tiffany cheered, standing up. "rest well and wake up early! i will teach you all the interview etiquette you need to know!"

"and don't get too comfortable with each other!" johanna sternly teased. "you are on a survival show, not a dating show."

as they shared the final laughs of the night and prepared for bed, y/n couldn't help but ponder over her mentor's words. what johanna said rang true, even if it was intended to be a lighthearted joke. in the end, they were competitors in a game, even competition for each other.

she climbed into her bed, burying herself underneath the lush covers. she knew it was wrong for her to think about anything other than survival, especially when her inevitable death was approaching extremely fast. so why did her heart beat so fast when he touched her? why was she so unbelievably comfortable with someone she had just began considering a friend four days ago?

why was jay on her mind every night as she fell asleep, worrying about the games?

the eve of the hunger games. y/n stood in line, right behind the district 6 male tribute. she shifted her weight, watching the interviews commence from the screen backstage.

her stylist chose to dress her in a cream chiffon gown, the torso embellished with pearls and yellow topaz. her shoulder straps were loosely draped with layers of chiffon strung together. gold droplet earrings and a thin, double-layered gold necklace accented her ears and neckline. her hair was tied up elegantly, bound with matching gold ribbons. her eyeliner was drawn with gold glittery liquid, two yellow gemstones glued right underneath her lower eyelids. she shifted once more, balancing on her gold stilettos cuffed to her ankles.

the district 6 tribute in front of her peeked over her shoulder, throwing her a sultry grin. "looking good, seven," he commented, adjusting his black tie.

before y/n could respond with a snarky remark of her own, a hand was placed on her shoulder as she felt the heat from a body close to hers.

"i suggest you turn back around, six," the voice of jay, now sarcastic and brooding, spoke out. "your interview is starting."

as the slightly flustered tribute entered the stage, y/n faced jay, now realizing exactly how close they were. his face was mere centimeters from hers, a firm stare in his eyes.

unlike her, jay was clad in a sleek all-black suit, with gold cuffs and a gold handkerchief in his breast pocket. his hair was styled into a comma, eyebrows brushed and sleek, and ears adorned with multiple gold studs and loops. his eyes were painted with the same gold eyeliner as y/n and his fingers were wrapped with gold rings.

she could feel the heat from his breath, smell the subtle scent of his body wash, and hear the low beating of his heart. the hand on her exposed shoulder dropped, causing her to look up at him. he had taken a step back, repositioning himself in the line.

"you good?" he asked, a concerned expression on his face.

"yeah...i'm okay," she mumbled, turning back around.

she stood still, trying to calm the clamoring in her heart. she fanned herself with her hands, cooling down the heat spreading on her face. to others, it looked like she was flustered to be next on stage. but she knew that the fluttering in her stomach was for a completely different reason.

the audience applauded as the district 6 male finished up his interview, taking a large bow before leaving the stage. caesar flickerman laughed loudly and faced the cameras, microphone right underneath his chin.

"now, district 7, with gorgeous outfits for gorgeous tributes. let's hear it for y/n l/n, seventeen from the seventh district!"

y/n inhaled sharply before stepping into the spotlight, flashing a bright smile as she waved to the audience. the cheers grew louder with each step she took, shaking hands with caesar before sitting down in the interviewee's chair.

she sat with one leg crossed over the other and hands placed on her top knee, just like tiffany instructed her to. "welcome, y/n!" caesar exclaimed with a grin. "how are you liking the capitol?"

"it's very different from home, that's for sure," she responded with a light nod. "i have to say, the fashion here is quite extraordinary. never could i have imagined that i'd be wearing a ballroom gown, talking to a man with bright-red hair in front of the whole nation."

caesar paused for a moment, touching his said hair. "are you talking about me?"

"yes, i'm talking about you, caesar," y/n replied with a laugh.

the host let out a hearty chuckle, causing the audience to laugh along. "now, speaking of home," he continued, leaning towards the tribute. "is there anyone special back there? someone you're interested in? there has to be someone interested in you--who wouldn't fall for this stunning smile?"

y/n felt her smile falter as the audience cheered at the comment. caesar's question suddenly reminded her of the boy back at home, most likely watching the broadcast while he worked late hours to provide for his family. how could she forget? the day he ended their relationship, right before she got pulled into the games. she realized that the days she spent in the capitol were void of ethan, her mind completely focused on training and the day she was dreading.

and maybe a different boy, too.

but caesar's question caused her to swallow thickly, feeling guilty for forgetting about him. the boy she promised her heart to, the one who gave her his love seconds before they were ripped apart.

"well...uh..."

she found herself unable to think of a straight answer. "there...there's this boy..."

caesar hummed, egging her on. "he's the most wonderful person ever, kind and caring, a complete family man," she added, a smile forming as she thought about ethan. "he always prioritized others before himself. took care of his siblings when his parents couldn't. made sure to ask me if i ate even when he had no food."

but the smile didn't last long, soon dropping before she continued, "but we ended things before the reaping because he thought he was going to be reaped. he didn't want me hanging onto him if he died in the arena."

a dry chuckle escaped her lips. "but here i am, standing here instead of him. i guess things didn't turn out the way we expected them to."

caesar had a pitiful expression on his face as the audience cooed, some sniffling in the crowd. "i'm sorry about that," he said, placing his hand on top of hers. "i wish you the best of luck in the hunger games."

"thanks, caesar," y/n replied, shooting him a small smile.

"well, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen," the host concluded, helping her stand up. "from district 7, the brave and courageous y/n l/n!"

he raised her hand, letting y/n take in all the applause as the crowd stood and cheered. she left momentarily afterwards, welcoming herself into tiffany's arms backstage.

"darling, you did amazing," she said, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. y/n knew why tiffany was reacting this way but chose not to speak, appreciating the moment of comfort the escort provided her.

she escaped her arms, stepping closer to the screen backstage to watch jay's interview. he was already on stage, seated next to caesar with a charming smile.

"so jay, tell me, how is it that such an attractive man is sitting here right next to me? hm? do tell."

jay chuckled at the host's comment. "well, i'm just alright. but if you insist, i think it must be the brows."

"no need to be humble, jay. but are my red eyebrows as dashing as yours?" caesar questioned, raising his brows repeatedly. "if i'm being honest, i think mine are better." the audience howled with laughter, causing both jay and caesar to join with the crowd.

"now, tell me," the host continued. "do you have a special someone? our gorgeous district 7 tributes surely do not lack in the beauty department, do they folks?"

the audience cheered as a soft smile formed on jay's face. "look at him! jay park, with the jawline and the muscles! surely you had admirers back home, didn't you?"

jay chuckled again before speaking, "well, caesar, i wasn't really that desirable-"

"humble again," caesar interrupted by fake-whispering to the audience, inducing more laughter from the crowd.

"-but i did have my eyes on this girl from home," jay finished, piquing the host's interest. "oh! do tell."

"she's from the same neighborhood as me," jay added. "actually, we're next door neighbors."

the audience gasped with excitement and shock. but y/n froze, eyes never leaving the screen backstage. she knew that no one in the capitol knew they were next door neighbors--nobody except for y/n and jay themselves.

"i wish i could've talked to her more before i left, but i was reaped unexpectedly," jay said with a frown.

caesar matched the frown on the tribute's face. "well, you go out and win those games, and you tell her how you feel when you get home, okay?"

jay awkwardly smiled, responding with a small, "okay."

"ladies and gentlemen, the charismatic jay park from district 7!" caesar finished, triggering cheering and applause from the audience.

y/n watched as he exited the stage, approaching where she was standing with their team. tiffany immediately sauntered up to him, patting him on the back. "marvelous, darling! you answered so well!"

jay shot a weak smile at the escort before meeting y/n's eyes, already knowing that she figured it out. he quickly left backstage, heading towards the elevator to go to their apartment.

but y/n followed him, narrowly squeezing into the elevator just before its doors closed. jay gulped, avoiding her eyes as she stepped closer to him, leaning against the glass windows.

"jay," she began, softening her voice. "was...was that about-"

"yes."

he locked his gaze with hers, clenching his jaw tightly. "it was about you."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, parting her lips to speak. "but-"

"i'm sorry that i feel this way and i completely understand if you don't feel the same," jay interrupted. "but nothing is going to change how i feel. i know that one of us will die, or maybe even both of us. but i can't help it."

the elevator dinged, its doors opening to the seventh floor. jay exited, followed by y/n, not turning around to look at her as he stopped at the entrance of their apartment. "i have feelings for you, y/n. and i know i shouldn't be having them when we're fighting against death in less than 24 hours."

"jay, wait-"

he opened their apartment door, immediately leaving her at the foyer as he made a beeline to his room. the loud slamming of his door echoed around the apartment, making an obvious statement to y/n.

y/n could barely force herself to sleep last night. with the hunger games dawning upon her and jay's words ringing in her ears, she spent most of her night tossing and turning under the covers.

but as she sat in the jet, transporting her to the arena with a tracker in her arm, she realized that the one event she dreaded most was finally happening. there was no turning back--the games were about to begin.

johanna led her to her tube in the launch room, brushing off her brown jacket seconds before the tributes had to be ready. y/n's hair was tied up away from her face, sporting a cropped vest of armor and black cargo pants under her long track jacket.

"remember, avoid being lured into the cornucopia but grab anything nearby," her mentor advised, straightening the collar of the jacket. "and find a source of water and food as early as possible. burn out all fires before it gets dark and make sure to hide well."

johanna paused, placing her hands on y/n's shoulders. "and please, stay alive. i believe in you."

y/n nodded. "thanks for everything, johanna."

the mentor smiled, a hint of uneasiness in her face. "they'll start the countdown soon. don't jump off the pedestal early, or they'll blow your guts out."

y/n stepped inside the launch tube, watching as the glass door swiveled around to a close. she felt the ground beneath her rise as johanna waved goodbye to her, causing y/n to smile sadly back.

she turned her head upwards, squinting her eyes as the dark space flooded with light. her tube stopped moving, locking into place as a burning heat overwhelmed her body. she scanned the arena, her heart beating faster than ever.

"the countdown begins now. 60..."

it was a ruined city. all rubble and dry concrete. the sunlight was pelting on them like a fire, breaking the tributes out into a sweat. a single pillar, chipped at some of the edges, was surrounded by backpacks and weapons alike. some of the supplies were spread out, varying in locations across the cornucopia.

"...45..."

y/n noticed a backpack a couple of meters away from her. she locked her eyes on it, planning to grab it before running.

"...30..."

she blinked harshly, the dryness of the heat getting to her eyes. she noticed jay several pedestals away from her, already looking at her.

"...20..."

her hands were already sweaty and shaking from both the anxiety and heat. but jay's eyes comforted her, slightly relaxing the stress in her body. it was as if all the tension from last night between them evaporated into thin air.

"...10..."

she felt her chest heaving, struggling to breathe from the rapid beating in her chest and the dust in the air.

"...9..."

she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

"...8..."

she inhaled slowly and took her time to exhale.

"...7..."

she opened her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun again.

"...6..."

she eyed the backpack in front of her, feeling her heart racing even more.

"...5..."

she looked at jay, who was preparing to run.

"...4..."

he met her stare, their eyes locking with each other.

"...3..."

she mouthed a "stay alive."

"...2..."

he nodded as his lips said, "you too."

"...1..."

within the end of a second, the 73rd hunger games had begun.

taglist: @kpopstanmeg @kyunlov

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lividstar · 8 months ago

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ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

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masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE

tags: @beabatiny

The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.

“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”

“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”

“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”

“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”

As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”

Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”

“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.

At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”

Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”

“And who told you you could just do that?”

“...My free will?”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”

“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”

“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.

Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”

Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”

“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”

Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”

For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”

Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”

Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”

Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”

Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”

Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"

“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”

You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.

Maybe a walk outside could be nice?

You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.

With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.

She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.

“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.

“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”

The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.

Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”

You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”

You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”

“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”

The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.

When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.

As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”

“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.

“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.

“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.

While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.

Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.

“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.

His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”

“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.

“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.

“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”

“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.

Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”

You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”

He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”

“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.

You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”

He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”

Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”

You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.

“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”

“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”

The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.

Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.

Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.

“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.

Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.

“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.

“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.

“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.

From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”

“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.

Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”

Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”

“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.

“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.

“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”

Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”

Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.

Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”

Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”

After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?

“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”

You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”

“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”

“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”

“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.

“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”

There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.

“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”

“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”

“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”

“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.

“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”

“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”

Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.

You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”

She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”

“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.

Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”

You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?

Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.

Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”

“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”

Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”

Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.

This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!

As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.

Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”

Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”

Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”

Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.

Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”

🪞 — lividstar.

#౨ৎ﹒ノ﹒lividstar．#kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung

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