#its not really spoilers but i can tag it as that if you guys want | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roseykat · 1 year ago

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TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand.

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around.

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room.

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink.

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him.

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled.

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself.

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks.

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely.

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves.

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung.

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed.

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground.

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.”

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask.

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender.

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further.

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out.

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement.

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise.

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?”

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung.

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.”

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers.

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.”

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it.

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside.

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs.

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.”

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.”

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out.

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body.

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting.

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you.

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?”

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it.

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare.

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking.

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight.

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying.

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?”

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour.

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled.

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl.

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.”

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity.

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face.

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late.

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?”

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off.

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process.

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin.

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off.

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?”

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.”

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.”

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that.

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate.

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.”

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees.

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit.

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants.

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning.

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge.

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun.

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you.

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.”

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself.

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…”

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.”

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches.

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps.

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear.

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again.

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #Hyunjin x Jisung

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fannyspammy · 2 years ago

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Butterflies

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: Adam has never felt the way he feels when he’s with you.

Warnings: none ! just a lotta fluff on fluff on fluff hehe hence the cheesy title. There aren’t really spoilers i think unless you count the location maybe? Idk it’s pretty general imo

A/N: watched gotg 3 twice over the weekend & im obsesseddd with this man lol. Might make this a series of firsts with Adam if yall would read it 👀 lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

[not my gif]

He was built like a man — perfect in every way with his chiseled body & god-like strength — but he had the innocence of a child. And y/n loved that about him. He was the purest person she knew, embracing every new experience & every new discovery with such wonder. And she loved that she got to share so many firsts with him.

Y/n always smiled to herself when she remembered the first time he told her he had feelings for her. Or tried to, at least.

They were sitting in silence on a roof in Knowhere, people-watching. They’d come there every afternoon since meeting after the defeat of the High Evolutionary. Having lived in Knowhere with the Guardians before the attack (his attack, ironically), y/n knew all the spots for when you needed a moment alone, & when they’d met, she could tell he was someone who needed that space to just be.

So she introduced him to her spot, & they’d been coming ever since. But Nebula had needed their help with a few tasks that afternoon, so their daily retreat was pushed later into the evening. By this time, the community was out in the streets, dancing & playing & having fun. Music & laughter filled the air, & the faint scent of liquor presented itself as everyone began to drink the night away. It was getting late & y/n was getting tired, so she scooted closed & rested her head on his shoulder.

Y/n felt him tense at the initial contact, before quickly relaxing and melting into it, laying his head on hers. After a couple minutes he spoke.

“Y/n, I… feel something.. when I’m with you.”

She looked up at him without moving from her position, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Hm?”

“Something.. warm. Tingly? I-I don’t really- how do I- it’s hard to explain…”

Y/n giggled at his flustered attempt to explain himself.

Adam sighed & tried again. “I.. care about you. A lot. But it’s different from the way I cared about my mother. Or Blurp. Like, I want to be with Blurp all the time & hug him & cuddle him, and I want to do the same with you, but in a different way. But I can’t explainhowit’sdifferentitjustknowthatits-”

“Adam!” y/n said with a laugh, stopping his rambling. She lifted her head from its resting place to look at him, amused. “Slow down!”

“See! When you smile at me like that I feel it!”

Y/n bit her lip to restrain the smile spreading across her face, her brows furrowed in thought.

“Can I try something?” She asked. Adam nodded.

“Do you feel it when I do this?” Y/n gently brushed a lock of hair away from his face. He nodded again, slower.

“What about.. this?” Y/n brought her hand down to his shoulder & dragged it down slowly to rest on his chest. She felt his heartbeat quicken.

“I feel it more now.”

Using her other hand, she grabbed his arm to raise it between them, and then placed her hand on his, gently interlacing their fingers. “This?”

His heartbeat quickened again and he nodded. A curious smile spread over his lips.

“I feel it right in my stomach.. almost like it’s.. like it’s fluttering. Like-”

“Butterflies.” Y/n said, finishing his sentence.

Adam nodded again, excitedly, like she’d just solved a puzzle he’d been stuck on for days. “Like butterflies!”

Y/n leaned in closer, resting their intertwined hands in his lap. “Adam, you like me,” she said with a teasing smile on her lips.

“Well yeah, you know I like you. I like most people. Except the ones I need to fight, which used to be you & our friends but now I like you guys.”

She chuckled and pressed her head against the nook of his neck, back resting on his chest, pulling his arm around her, fingers still locked together.

“No, Adam. I mean you like like me. Like, romantically.” She tapped his torso with her free hand. “That’s why you feel all warm and gooey inside when you’re with me, or when I touch you. You having feelings for me. Romantic feelings.”

“Romantic…,” he whispered to himself, then paused shortly. “Do you like me too? In the romantic way?”

Y/n felt his chest tense as his breathing hitched, anticipating her answer. He may not understand his feelings yet, but he knew he wanted her to feel the same way. She squeezed his hand softly in reassurance.

“Mhmm. I like you a lot.”

He eased beneath her & then was quiet for a moment, as if deep in thought, processing the new feeling he had just discovered.

Then he held her tighter, and she felt him smile as she melted into his embrace.

“I like liking you. It feels nice.”

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam x reader #will poulter #will poulter x reader #adam warlock imagine #will poulter imagine #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #gotg 3 #gotg imagine #gotg vol 3 #gotg v3

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positively-mine · 1 year ago

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You’re a girl?!

how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions

tags: afab, accidental touches

a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me

Some spoilers: until book 3

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Ace

This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.

Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.

The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..

Deuce

The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.

He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…

Trey

This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.

So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".

Riddle

I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.

The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.

Cater

For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.

So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.

Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.

reblogs appreciated!

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guywrestlingaddiction · 3 months ago

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That Wresting Moment: One wrestler steals the spotlight - Aryx Quinn & Brenden Cage v Jake Lyons & Landon Mycles (Can-am.com)

Sometimes a tag team match is really just a ploy to get your hands on one of those sexy jobbers. It's happens when one member of the tag team is so magnetic, so irresistible, that he completely steals the show. Enter Landon Mycles ...

Aryx Quinn & Brenden Cage v Jake Lyons & Landon Mycles (Can-am.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

From the very beginning our foursome is really a threesome with Landon at the center of it. Both Aryx and Brenden say they're here for a tag team match but really they're both after Landon and a crack at his amazing body. Like a good wingman, poor Jake is pretty much left off of most scenes as all those hungry eyes lock on to our blond, sexy spotlight, Landon.

The Action

Now don't let that pretty Landon "The Heartbreaker" Mycles fool you. Those muscles are not just for show and the guy can do some real damage, even up against two bigger beefy pro studs like Aryx and Brenden. They both want him but Landon is not going to make it easy and he really messes these two up with those powerful arms and massive thighs.

That is until our two heels double team the poor guy and no man, no matter how powerful can beat those odds. I mean check out this brutality:

The Moment

So let's be real, we came here for our stud Landon and the guy really does shine in this match. Making this match even sexier is the fact that one-on-one our heels are no match for him and they had to stack the odds in order to win. Boy do they enjoy their winnings here ...

Brenden just can't help himself when he's around all that golden muscle.

It's Aryx however who gets the better of him and thoroughly enjoys the sweaty, glistening perfection that is Landon Mycles.

In fact, he gets so lost in his opponent's He-man body that he forgets himself and suffers the consequences. I mean, I can't blame the guy - Aryx flew too close to the sun and got burned by that sexy jobber that stole the spotlight.

Aryx, humiliated and put out but still completely satisfied. I'm sure he's thinking ... "totally worth it".

If you enjoyed this post check out another one here:

#gay wrestling #can-am.com #landon mycles #Jake Lyons #brenden cage #Aryx Quinn

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

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hwavsg4ch4n · 9 months ago

Text

Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like.

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease.

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same.

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day.

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ‘soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed.

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour.

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?”

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him.

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?”

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him?

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity.

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now.

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out.

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you.

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back.

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him.

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him.

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin.

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy.

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him.

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts.

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him.

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire.

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones, you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine.

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.”

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

Link to vote for this to become a series [click on me]!

#skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #Spotify

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venelona · 1 month ago

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Write My Report author notes

Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.

!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!

(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)

Starting with, of course,

Chapter 1:

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'

I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol

'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'

Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl

COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖

'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-

The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol

"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."

Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏

I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.

Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth

It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks

"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."

Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol

I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it

"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."

Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them

Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me

[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'

'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)

'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'

Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence

Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all

'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'

If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p

Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants

'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭

'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.

'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'

I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then

Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.

#updates to this post shall be rebloged when i get to next chapters #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazatsu #dazai #atsushi #dazai x atsushi #atsushi x dazai #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #dazushi #write my report #write my report author notes

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stitchwraith-stingers · 1 month ago

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sorry for never shutting up about how people treat hazel but ohh my god shes my fave character atm.... i get to be mad!! she has good enough information that you can play around with headcanons freely

the only moments people wouldve brung up is when dev is in the episode, there was no reason for the episode that showed her tendancy to overthink and be emberassed over small mistakes by wishing a do-over and over again, having to realise that running away from the idea of creating a problem wont help her in the long run JUST so people could go "omg haha dev has a crush on her" i could litterly not tell you what the general concensious on most episodes are because i dont know peoples opinions on them because in general they dont discuss them beyond his scenes

fanart too, ive personally muted the dev and devzel tag and when i look up #hazel wells i want you to guess how many posts i find that arent hidden! spoiler alert its barely any of them, listen im not saying im shocked at the fact The Characters Made As A Duo are drawn as a duo, its whatever and while im not personally a fan in general i really do get the appeal, but you have to admit that at some point it gets really suspicious when the only fanart you can find in one character is only with the more popular one, over 200 fics in the hazel tag on ao3 and theres only 20! without the dev tag! (10 more then when i last checked, crazy! go read fly bird, fly now), and my main problem is is that hazel is shown to be her own person OUTSIDE of their friendship, infact wouldnt you know it shes the protagonist herself! the fact that most aus ive seen are focused on dev/dale/peri is whats most confusing to me, "oh but theyre so interesting to work with"

really! youre telling me you cant think of a fic / au idea on her own? miss "i was going to have a previous godparent who didnt listen to me at all", miss "i am very anxious and i overthink to the point where my desicions", miss "i had an encounter with my evil shadow self when i was a fairy" (shout out to fairy bound au btw, im a big fan), miss "my mom doesnt fully know how to handle children inspite of being a therapist and tells me im handling things mature so i feel like i should be", miss "with the fact that im terrified my friends are making fun of me behind my back, i didnt know how to talk to anyone and a cafetiria made me so overworried and i speak to my rocks could imply the fact that i was outcasted at a young age", miss "my brother who has been my anchor and i has taught me everything i need to know has left me and hes also struggling to adjust to everything and we were insanely close to the point where the reason this whole thing started is because of him", miss "i regularly help my dad hunt a ghost that doesnt exist but it makes him happy", miss "i am litterly friends with the coolest kid in elementary school", miss "my landlords are litterly doomsday preppers and our parents want me to get along with their werido twins", miss "i didnt even hestitate to kill myself if i had to save potatoes for humanity after i pissed off mother nature", miss 'i got called out on projecting my past bonding expiriences on my best friend by some werid demon posessing her body right infront of me' none of that makes you want to think of something about her on her own? not even a spark of an idea? its almost like you guys watched exclusively 6 episodes and watched 5 minutes out of them at most

hazel is very interesting and shows her own struggles, she likes puns and fries and rocks and anime and horror movies (and apparently mushrooms if you count that one scene), she tries to problem solve so that no one is unhappy (patty being alive so winn wasnt upset, trying to get the band and orchestra together, accidently haunting her house and wishing her dads day was extra special, trying to find a dinosaur she spontaniously teleported his own job), she has multiple episodes showing her insecurities and how she tries to hide it so she doesnt look like a bad person, but inspite of it all is a understanding person and a peacemaker and doesnt like arguments, hell shes even such good autism represntation im 99.9% sure it wasnt intentional at all

dont even get me started on the takes ive seen in the finale, listen the finale has alot to be said and it definatly wont be everyones cup of tea (i think them trying to refrence every episode felt so chaotic personally) but regarding people with the ending is still giving me a headache, "she shouldve used her wish on him" that wouldve been so boring and predicable, say what you want on what she actually used it for but i think you guys should realise that for the kid whos regressing back into his bad copium mechanisms should get to face his concequences, 'hes 10 and neglected so thats why he acted like that' and 'she doesnt need to put up with how he treats her and hold his hand and be his personal therapist' can both coexist, people being pissed that she lightheartly agreed that he fucked up when HE admitted it is crazyyy CRAZYYY (also the fact ive seen someone say 'her moms a therapist she shouldve known' ???)

this isnt even touching on "hazels other relationships like her friends and family arent developed enough so thats why ppl dont care that much" while that is a valid critism i have with the show in general i still dont think applys to what im specifically talking about to demonstrate dale has appeared in THREE episodes (four if you want to stretch it), meanwhile hazels parents have appeared more often and im barely seeing them in fanart "but dale has a backstory!" so do those two have a whole episode explaining how they met "b-but dale is interesting as a role as a villain!" the guy is barely a villain [so far atleast], but also is being a therapist and a parascienists already not an interesting enough? are you guys suddenly not able to make as much headcanons expanding apon them as you did with dale? thats the thing that confuses me the most, whats stopping you from giving random information from your head to anyone else?, (i didnt know how to word this point so hopefully this makes sense)

listen im going to say it right now MOST OF THIS IS DEFINATLY UNINTENTIONAL AND NOT EVERYONE IS DOING THIS ON PURPOSE but some of u guys might really need to uncover some biases on why you think the black girl should coddle the rich white boy when he wasnt treating her well at the time, if that makes sense

#cupid.exe #im feeling brave ill maintag this . if u guys are annoying i am going to stop u guys from rbing i have school tommorow anyways #the wording might be a little bit werid cuz its midnight n my brain is mush but whatever im going to bed after this #fandom misogyny #fandom salt #fandom racism #fop #fairly oddparents #fop a new wish #fairly oddparents a new wish #hazel wells #long post

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imjustasimpxd · 1 year ago

Text

My Angel (Part Two)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : around 5, 200 words

Warnings : Again, very angsty. Reiner feels guilty about what he’s done, reader is angry with him. Crying, mentions of heartbreak. Spoilers for season 4 part one.

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

❗️Important Note❗️

There will in fact be a part three! While I was writing part two, it ended up becoming so long that I just decided to split it up. That’s why this chapter leaves off on a cliffhanger (and that’s also why it took me so long to post this one). But I thank you all for your patience. If anyone else wants to be tagged for part three then let me know in the comments! :)))

“Can I please ask where exactly we’re going?” Reiner questioned, his voice lacing with a hint of annoyance as Falco gripped his arm, anxiously pulling him towards the city’s back alleys.

“I told you it’s a surprise! A friend of yours wants to say hi before the show starts!” Falco explained, glancing backward at his superior with a cheerful smile as he continued to pull him in the opposite direction.

“Is that right?” Reiner spoke sarcastically, scoffing quietly to himself as he took in the boy’s words.

What was Falco really up to?

Surely the whole “a friend wants to say hi” explanation was made up; because Reiner Braun wasn’t exactly a man you would think of as having friends.

Sure, he was surrounded by people a lot of the time, and he even had allies with whom he got along pretty well with. But even so, Reiner knew he was nothing more than a comrade to them; nothing more than a vessel to wield the armored titan.

But that was okay, because they were nothing more than comrades to him.

With being born Eldian as well as being a warrior for Marley’s military force, Reiner Braun didn’t exactly have the time, luxury, or frankly, the mental strength to seek out any social interactions beyond strictly work-related ones.

Well, at least, not anymore.

He made that mistake once, and in doing so, it cost him the demolition of a poor woman’s heart; as well as his own.

In fear that opening up to another person again might cause that beating vessel in his chest to truly see itself past repair, Reiner Braun had decided to close himself off from others, refusing to repeat those tragic events of his past.

So, with that in mind, who exactly was this “person” that Falco was happily dragging him by the arm to see?

It couldn’t have been anyone he was genuinely close with; there wasn’t anyone like that for him, not anymore at least. Any authentic connections he once had with people were now severed, collapsed by the calamity he caused back on that forsaken island.

So who on earth was he being forced to see?

“It’s just in here!” Falco said excitedly, his finger pointing toward a wooden door as they rounded the corner; one that lead to a basement stationed under an older apartment complex.

From the outside, the place looked dim and run down, its location secluded to a quiet and unfrequented street.

The very sight had Reiner scratching his head in confusion. Of all places, why here? Why pick such an isolated area to meet with him? Not only that, but why would this person send a naive little boy to escort him to this place instead of just contacting Reiner directly?

Was this a trap he was walking into?

Should he leave?

Like a flame set to brush, panic began spreading through Reiner’s veins. His free hand was gripped into a strained fist and his eyes darted in all directions, watching out for any surprise attacks.

If this really was a trap, if someone was anticipating charging at him, then he’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened. Loud groans from the beat-down hinges filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps; footsteps that belonged to a dark, hooded figure.

Reiner’s eyes widened at the scene before him, an eerie feeling twisting in his stomach as he watched the mysterious person walk out the door; heading in his direction.

Whoever it was, he thought about fighting them off, even going as far as raising both his hands in the air to assume a defensive stance.

However, that’s when he caught a glimpse of Falco next to him. The little boy had started to head towards the figure, almost as if he was acquainted with the human; if it even was human.

“Falco wait!” Reiner quickly followed in the boy’s footsteps, gripping his arm before he could walk any closer to the person. “We should leave.” He suggested, anxiously tugging on the boy’s limb in hopes to urge him back in the opposite direction.

“It’s okay Mr. Braun,” Falco smiled, quick to reassure his superior. “This is where he said to meet him.”

Who’s he? Was it that person lurking around with the cloak draped across their face? Or was there someone inside as well?

Reiner didn’t have any answers, nor did he have a definite resolve on how to react in this situation. Should he trust Falco’s judgment and allow this “meetup” to happen? Or should he grab the boy and run while he still had the chance?

The latter seemed like the best option, especially considering the fact that Falco was just a child, and therefore could’ve easily been manipulated into something dangerous.

He wanted to trust Falco’s words, but it was too risky. If something happened, the boy’s blood would be on Reiner’s hands; and he couldn’t bear the weight of any more sorrow, or any more guilt.

“We’re leaving, Falco!” Reiner insisted, readjusting his grip on the boy’s arm to forcefully pull him away from the situation.

Although, just as he’d turned around to take those first few steps, he heard something that made his body freeze, and his heart clench.

“If you’re done arguing you can go on ahead. He’s waiting for you inside.”

That voice. Reiner knew that voice.

It was the same one he used to hear nagging at him to wake up in the early mornings. The same voice that used to comfort him whenever he was feeling disheartened.

It was… the same voice he never thought he’d have the pleasure of hearing ever again…

All he received was one simple sentence, but that was all the verification he needed. There was no doubt in his mind, the voice he heard: belonged to you.

“Y/n?!” His body immediately turned around to face the hooded figure. His eyes then squinted, trying to see more than just the gentle silhouette of a pair of lips and a jawline that was exposed by the moonlight’s glow.

The figure froze at his words, saying nothing in response; almost as if they didn’t anticipate being recognized.

“Y/n, is that you?” Reiner asked again, hoping to earn a response this time.

However, there was none; at least, not a verbal one.

All he gained was a sudden flinch that occurred once he spoke that name a second time, followed by the subtle shaking of fingertips that poked out from the sleeves of the cloak.

You must’ve been scared, embarrassed; perhaps even both.

And who would blame you for it? The last time you saw him he had slaughtered more than half of your comrades. Who knows what he’s capable of now after four years have passed?

“Falco?” Reiner finally broke the silence, glancing down at the boy he was still holding on to. “Why don’t you go on inside, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

However, before the boy could open his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted. “There’s no reason for him to leave! I’m not staying to chat.” A stern voice echoed past the cloak covering your face, but that didn’t phase Reiner.

He knew it was you from the moment that first syllable left your lips, even more so now that you’d spoken a second time.

Your tone was serious, added with a hint of aggression in order to scare him off, but he wouldn’t be turned away by that. Not when this was the chance he’d been silently praying for ever since he left that island four years ago. The chance to finally see you once again, even for just a moment.

Now that this chance was finally here, standing in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip away; regardless of the tone you used with him.

“Just a few minutes?!” He insisted, taking a few steps forward in case you were preparing to run away. “Please?” He asked in a much quieter tone, his eyes practically begging for you to give in, to grant him even the smallest portion of your time.

Even after all these years he still knew how to persuade you, didn’t he? He must’ve, otherwise, your mouth would’ve never opened to let out a frustrated “Five minutes and that’s it!”

Reiner’s shoulders quickly relaxed at your words. His head then turned towards Falco subsequently, giving him a quick nod of his head: which apparently was his signal to “get going.”

Falco’s gaze switched between Reiner and the person he was apparently dying to speak to. The boy was unsure of what was going on, or who that unidentified person even was, but nevertheless, Falco knew better than to argue with his superior; so he’d comply with the orders given to him.

“S-sure…I’ll just, be inside then…” Falco spoke hesitantly, slowly backing away to walk toward the wooden door. He stopped momentarily after placing his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was waiting for Reiner to change his mind. But after receiving no signs of a change of heart, Falco reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside; closing it behind him.

The moment that wooden door shut, an unpleasant silence filled the air. Instead of partaking in the “conversation” you were supposed to have, the two of you just stood in silence.

You didn’t dare speak up. Reiner was the one who made you stay after all, if anyone should be the first to start this conversation it was him.

Your eyes were fixated on him with a calloused glare, your lips refusing to part even the slightest bit.

Reiner on the other hand, wore an expression more timid and anxious than yours.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, fingers fidgeting with each other as he contemplated the best way to start this conversation.

“I uh…” He tried to speak, but the words fumbled in his mouth, leaving just as quickly as they came.

It’s ironic, just a moment ago he was begging for you to stay so that he could have the chance to talk to you, but now that his chance had finally arrived, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

As he stood there, overanalyzing a potential response, he noticed the way you scoffed, clearly annoyed at his delay in response.

You were growing impatient with him, and if he didn’t take the opportunity to speak with you now, you’d most likely never allow him another chance to waste your time again.

So, after what had seemed like hours of silence, when in reality was more like 1 minute, Reiner finally spoke up.

“Can you take off the hood?”

Your eyes quickly narrowed in confusion at his odd request. Out of everything he could’ve asked, everything he could’ve apologized for, this is the first thing he says?

“Why?” You questioned, still unsure of his intentions on the matter.

“I just…” He began, but his words quickly started to fade out, almost as if he felt unworthy to be asking in the first place.

Nevertheless, you were persistent.

“You just what?!” You snapped, frustrated at his apparent dedication to withhold information from you; a recurring dedication at that.

“I just…” he inhaled shakily before speaking, “I want to see your face.”

You paused at his words, taking a moment to process what he’d just said. After expecting something pitiful, or perhaps even bitter coming from him, it was quite a shock to receive this: a fairly tender request.

He wanted to see your face? Why? What difference would that make?

It’d be the same one he saw four years ago, nothing’s changed; at least, not to you.

Despite asking for something which would require him to look upwards, Reiner kept his eyes glued to the ground, as if he felt undeserving to see you again. It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sigh that jerked past your lips, along with the quiet “fine” you gave in response to his request that made him finally look up.

As his gaze lifted, watching you pull that gloomy hood off your head, Reiner was met with a flashback of memories.

It all reappeared in an instant: the sound of your adorable laugh, the way your hair looked when the sun glistened across it, even the small little habits he’d discovered about you as time went by; they were all coming back, recollecting in his mind clearer than if it all happened a day ago.

Reminding him, painfully, of a time when things were simpler, when he was happier, and, most regretfully, a time when he had you.

Pulling off that hood allowed him to finally lay eyes upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. A face he used to watch soundly sleeping next to him at night, placing gentle kisses all over when no one was around.

It was the same face he used to stare at in fascination; taken back by the beautiful way your lips would curve upwards into a smile, or even the way your eyes radiated the most alluring shade of color when the sun shone across your skin.

That face was one he had desperately longed to observe once more for the entirety of four long years, and coincidentally, it was the same face that now stared him down with an irritated glare.

Absent was the sparkle your eyes once held for the man standing before you, and gone was the loving countenance you were never hesitant to grant him.

Now your face lay still, your features refusing to move even the smallest bit in case it were to form some sort of pleasant expression towards him accidentally.

Who was this woman?

If not for the fact that he had easily identified her face, Reiner wouldn’t have recognized her.

Where was the kind and loving woman he fell in love with? Was she not the one standing before him now?

No, this woman was different. This one seemed to hold an inkling of abhorrence towards him, easily provoked by just his presence alone.

Was this… the product of his own making?

Was this… what he’d turned you into?

As if he wasn’t tormented enough by his decision, now he was witnessing the consequences of his actions unfold before his very eyes.

“How.. how are you here?” Reiner stuttered, still in shock over the fact that you were actually standing there; that for whatever reason, his prayers to see you again had finally been answered.

“I’m only here in service of a friend; nothing else.”

Your response was so vague, so cold; nothing like the endearing way you used to speak to him.

“Which friend?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You replied forbiddingly. Your tone sounded so distant, so unfriendly towards him.

To think, the last time he heard your voice, it had told him “Goodnight, I love you.” But now that voice was harsh as it spoke, probably regretful of saying those very words after waking up to find out he’d abandoned you that next morning.

The difference in your tone was beginning to eat away at Reiner, straining that beating vessel in his chest more and more with each look of your indignant expression. As if you’d just picked up a shovel and started digging, deepening his guilt further than it already was; if that was even possible.

“Your minutes are up by the way, and I have to leave.” You suddenly spoke, hoping your statement was bleak enough to end the conversation, meaning you could finally leave; finally be free of him.

“Wait!” Just before you could escape, Reiner quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist, clinging to it as if his life was hinging on it. “Wait please, don’t leave…”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He deserved that. Honestly, he deserved more than that.

Call him whatever names you could think of, and he would let you, he’d allow every single one of them, no matter how excruciating, because he knew they were true; because deep down he knew he deserved them.

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Reiner.” Your words were like knives to his heart, causing the already aching organ to shudder yet again. “Whatever it is you should’ve said it four years ago.”

Was that true?

If he really did explain it to you before he left, would things be different now? Would you have understood his situation? Understood why he had to do it?

Why he had to leave?

“Please,” he implored, desperately maintaining that grip on your wrist. “Please, just let me explain it to you.”

It was pathetic, how he was begging like this, pleading for you to stay and hear him out as if he wasn’t the one that left you in the first place.

“Nothing you say will change what happened.”

He knew that was true, but in spite of that, he still refused to let you go again without telling you, without apologizing at the very least.

“I know,” he admitted, a glossy haze shimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “But please, I want you to know the truth.”

A part of you wanted to leave, to deny him any further chances to cause you more pain with an explanation. However, another part of you wanted an apology. You wanted to hear his side of the story; to hear whatever excuse he had for abandoning you. No matter how twisted, or pitiful, his reasoning was, you couldn’t deny you had questions you wanted him to answer.

“Fine then. Tell me.” You quickly adjusted your posture, staring at him with your eyebrows raised; a gesture he remembered you only used when you were serious about something.

“Why did you betray us?”

Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for since this conflict arose: his chance to finally be understood, to be seen as more than just the traitor he was made out to be.

“I was given orders,” he started, retracting his hand from your wrist now that you’d clearly abandoned the option to run. “I had no choice but to follow them.”

“And what were your orders?” Your voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was hurting to bring all this back up again; like a wound that was still fresh, still desperately trying to heal itself.

Reiner’s mouth remained shut, his head lowering as he closed his eyes, not wanting to answer your question. He knew he’d be made to look like the villain no matter what he said, no matter which way he worded it.

Did that mean he really was the villain?

In your eyes, maybe.

Perhaps you’d never accept his side of the story, never be able to see past the wretched sins he’d carried out. But regardless, even if he never got the forgiveness he so desperately wanted from you, he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. It was time to embrace it, all of it.

“They told us to sneak in and make allies first, that way we had the people’s trust and no one would suspect us.” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look up at you in fear of the face you’d make upon hearing his confession. “Once the time came, we were ordered to steal the founding titan by whatever means necessary. And if anyone tried to stop us, we had permission to silence them, using whatever tactics we deemed fit.”

Reiner’s heart felt tight as he let those words out, his shame growing stronger now that he was remembering it all, remembering what he’d done.

How did things end up like this?

He was just trying to do what he was trained to do: save the world from ruin; that’s all. But here he was now, that mission an embarrassing failure as he reminisced on his actions; the same actions that caused such sorrow for so many people, including himself.

And as if things weren’t bad enough, as if Reiner wasn’t feeling guilty already, he heard a sudden change in your breathing that could only mean one thing: you were beginning to cry.

“No, wait!” His head quickly lifted to look at you, instantly regretting it as your distressed face came into view. “Please, don’t cry.” He begged, using his thumb to wipe away the liquid collecting on your skin; which you surprisingly allowed him to do without putting up a fight.

“Don’t cry, okay? Not for me.” He demanded, despite his own eyes welling up with tears as well.

He just couldn’t bear it, knowing he was hurting you yet again.

It was almost as if nothing had changed, even after all those years. As if he was reliving those horrors of his past once more, reliving that anguish he saw imprinted across your visage when you found out he was the armored titan; the same armored titan that had killed so many of your friends.

You didn’t understand it, even now.

Was the man who used to dote on you really the same person as the one who carried out such violence and hatred against your people?

How could that be true? How could he have done such a thing, committed such betrayal against the woman he loved?

What changed? Was it something you did?

Or perhaps a more gut-wrenching explanation: he never loved you to begin with. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to give you up, maybe, this was his plan all along.

“What else?” You asked, your voice trembling in the process.

Reiner’s face quickly scrunched in confusion, unsure of what you were getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Were those your only orders?” Tears quickly began trickling down your face faster than Reiner could stop, your gaze looking more despondent than ever. “Was there really not anything else?” Your lips parted to let out a stinging sob, one that seemed like it’d been held in for too long.

It was obvious you were waiting for some sort of answer from him, and every second he delayed with a response was only tormenting you further.

But, even so, it didn’t change the fact that Reiner didn’t understand what you were asking of him; or what you wanted to hear so badly.

Your eyes stared at him in sorrow, more tears absorbing into your skin before you asked your question one last time; phrasing it differently now.

“Was falling in love with me a part of your mission too? Was I just another means to accomplish your end goal?”

Reiner’s heart convulsed at your words, his mouth agape to let out a pained gasp.

Did he just hear that right?

A tool?! Is that really what you thought? Is that really all you assumed you were worth to him?

As if you could ever be such a thing.

Granted, he understood how you may have assumed that, given the matter of his betrayal and all. But, despite that, he never expected such an absurd accusation.

There was a wide range of names you could’ve called him: a traitor, a liar, a monster; anything, and he would’ve accepted it; He would’ve owned up to it.

But this: questioning whether or not his affection towards you was genuine; that was one accusation he’d never admit to.

You were never a tool, you weren’t even a part of his plan to begin with. Falling in love with a woman of Paradis wasn’t exactly one of the orders he received when he was assigned to that mission. In fact, getting involved with you went against the sole purpose of him being there; the sole purpose of his assignment.

He was sent there to exterminate the Eldian race, to wipe out every last one of those despicable beings so that the world could finally be safe.

Falling in love wasn’t an order laid out in his job description at all, much less with a woman of Paradis. And yet, he did.

Reiner was a strategic man, he wasn’t one to easily abandon orders, no matter how difficult they may be. That in itself should’ve been enough to prove his affection toward you; because he never would’ve done such a thing had he not felt it was worth it, had he not felt you were worth it.

Nevertheless, here you were, teeth gritted in frustration as you impatiently awaited his answer.

Your face spoke only of torment, and it pained Reiner to have to witness it. The way your eyes were slanting together in an unsuccessful attempt to subdue your tears, your fingers curling into fists to help better contain your irritation, all of it was a clear sign of the repercussions his decision to abandon the woman he loved had caused.

It was just like the last time, you were falling to pieces over him once more, and Reiner couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Your gentle cries may not have been as loud and mournful as they were four years ago, but it didn’t matter; the fact that you were even crying in the first place was enough to make that twisting sensation return to his stomach; possibly becoming permanent at this rate.

Reiner stretched his arm out to grasp your hand, hoping to console you, however, you quickly backed away, refusing to let him touch you.

“I don’t want your pity!” you spat, your fragile body trembling from both the anger and suffering fueling inside. “I just want the truth! Did you ever love me?”

Was that even a question?

Yes, he was fully aware that it would’ve been hard to believe the authenticity of someone who’d abandoned you; someone who so easily decided to turn against you, as if doing so didn’t phase them in the slightest.

But regardless, ignoring the heinous crimes he’d committed, did you still believe he never loved you?

Were his actions before this messy conflict never enough to convince you of his sentiments?

What about all the times he’d hold you in his arms, whispering to you about how happy you made him feel? Did you really not believe any of that? Was he pouring out his heart’s inner-most secrets for nothing?

Or what about the times he’d surprise you with food, despite rations being low? He almost got caught stealing food for you so many times; which was unwise of him considering the fact that it could’ve possibly had him kicked out of the survey corps: meaning his whole plan to infiltrate the military would’ve gone up in flames.

Or, perhaps how he’d always try to keep an eye on you during missions, making sure you never encountered something too dangerous for you to handle. You always complained that he was being too paranoid, but it was only because, unlike you, he was aware of the kind of power titans held; the kind of pain they could’ve, he could’ve, inflicted upon a tiny human being.

All he ever wanted was to protect you, to do what was best for you. Did you really never realize that?

Even after he made Annie and Bertholdt promise not to lay a hand on you during their countless fights with the survey corps, even after all the times he put your saftey before his own mission, was it still never enough?

Even when he left you behind, did you really never consider the fact that he could’ve been doing it because he thought it’s what’s best for you?

You would’ve never been safe with someone like him, so he spared you from that danger by leaving.

Even though he caused you much pain by doing so, did you still never put that together?

“I understand if you don’t believe me when I say this,” Reiner began, “But I never stopped loving you.”

Even before any words left your lips, the doubtful look stringing along your face was enough to tell Reiner that you didn’t believe him; or were highly skeptical at the very least.

“If that’s true, then why wasn’t that enough for you to stay?”

He’d asked himself the same question so many times before. Why didn’t he just give up on his mission and stay with you? It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred that option in comparison to the one he chose.

Why didn’t he just let the Marleyans presume him dead, forgetting his life in Marley and starting a new one with you on Paradis?

He wanted to, he considered it even. But there was one factor he was forgetting that made all the difference; one tiny reminder that convinced him to abandon that option in the end: you deserved better.

If he stayed behind like you would’ve wanted him to, like he would’ve wanted to, then he would’ve been living a lie; deception would’ve been rooted at the heart of your relationship.

He would’ve never been able to fully open up to you because doing so would mean he told you the truth about his past, about where he’s from and why he came here in the first place. He’d have to fabricate every detail about his life up until this point; tricking you into believing he was born inside the walls just like you. He’d need to have an excuse for everything: why his parents weren’t around, where he was born, what his home life was like, everything.

Nothing about his life would be real anymore, from the moment he’d wake up, to the second he drifted off to sleep at night, he’d be living a lie.

Every time he’d look at your innocent expression he’d be reminded of the secrets he was keeping from you, the lies he was tricking you with; and he couldn’t live like that. He refused to live like that.

“Staying would’ve only put you in danger, so I left, taking the danger with me.”

“I see.” Your voice was strained, as if you were having trouble processing everything. The shock from seeing him again so unexpectedly still hadn’t exactly worn off yet, and with the addition of all this new information piled on top, you didn’t necessarily know what to say; or how to react.

So, instead, you remained silent, hoping some ideas might materialize inside your head as you waited.

However, you weren’t kept waiting for long because Reiner quickly took an initiative to speak once again, asking something that left you stunned,

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your head quickly flung upwards to look at him, contemplating whether or not you heard him right.

“What??” You asked, aghastly, desperately hoping you misheard his question.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He repeated, unfortunately proving that your ears were working just fine, and that you did in fact hear him correctly the first time.

He only meant it as a farewell, nothing more.

He knew this might very well be the last time he ever saw you again, so, with that in mind, he wanted to leave you with something pleasant to remember him by.

He had every intention of letting you go, he’d walk away and you’d never have to see him again afterward.

Just one last memory with you, that’s all he wanted. One last moment to reminisce on the merriment of his past before he let you go for good.

That’s what he wanted at least, but, when you finally uttered a response, he realized it might’ve been too much to ask for.

“I’m with someone else now, Reiner.”

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(YES THERE WILL BE A PART THREE. So comment below if you want to be tagged).

Tags : @thebadbatch @mvteria @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams

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daddy-dins-girl · 7 months ago

Text

Playdate - Chapter Ten

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7.4k

Chapter Summary: Of all the ways you managed to dream up in your head about seeing Dave again, this was never how you would have imagined it actually playing out.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Angst. Alcohol consumption. Brief violence and mentions of blood. Dave's feelings deserve their own warning 🫠. Dave's idiocy also deserves its own warning (we're working on him okay?). Dave gets a little pushy/forceful/needy with Reader but there's no actual threat or non-con, but figured I should mention it (you are held against a wall at one point but never physically hurt or threatened). Mentioned smut (including sex toys, anal play, light bondage, etc.).

HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and just being amazing in general 💜

Notes: This chapter starts off with Dave's POV and switches to Reader, I just figured we could use a little insight into Dave.

~ DAVE ~

Knelt down on one knee on the lawn of his ex-wife’s house, Dave could give a shit about the wet grass stain he could feel seeping into the denim of his jeans as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around both his girls, giving them one final goodbye hug. He pulls back slightly, frowning when he sees their wet faces staring back at him. He has to swallow the hard lump in his throat to hold back his own tears that want to fall so he can be strong for them so instead he plasters on the best smile he can manage and brings both hands up to ruffle the hair on both their heads.

“Don’t be sad Angels, I’ll see you again in two weeks okay?” he assures them and they both slowly nod their heads. He knew it would be hard dropping them off today after having them for the entire summer, not only for them but for him as well. It was going to be difficult to go from seeing them every day back to once every two weeks. Not to mention he was now saying goodbye to the only distraction in his life that was holding him together these past couple of months.

“I miss you already Daddy,” his youngest, Alice pouts before her chubby little arms wrap around his neck once more and squeeze. Dave lets out a little chuckle and hugs her back tightly before pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I miss you too, babies,” he sighs.

“Why don’t you girls go inside and wash up now,” his ex-wife Carol finally speaks up from up on the porch at the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready. Steve’s making your favorite,” she announces and both girls' faces light up like kids at Christmas as they finally pull away from their father.

“Sketti and meatballs!” Alice shouts excitedly.

“Bye Daddy,” his oldest, Molly, says one final time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her younger sister by the hand and leads her up the porch steps and they disappear into the house.

“Said the magic words huh?” Dave chuckles, standing up to his feet and dusting off his jeans.

“Sketti and meatballs” Carol shrugs, a fond smile on her lips. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dave trails off, not wanting to get into why he came to her all but desperate a couple of months ago to let him take their children for an extended summer vacation. “Thanks again, I had a really great time with them.”

“Of course,” she nods. “Did you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure Steve made enough to feed an army. God knows I love him but that man can’t measure pasta to save his life,” she jokes of her new husband and Dave lets out a small chuckle but shakes his head.

“I should probably get going, let you guys have your family dinner.”

“Ok well… the usual time then? Two Saturdays from now?” she asks and Dave nods.

“I’ll be here.”

“Okay. And Dave?” she says just as he turns to head back to the driveway.

“Yeah?” he answers, turning back to face her.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure,” he smiles, unconvincing even to himself before he heads down the driveway and gets into his car.

He hadn’t been very candid with her about why he suddenly needed to “get away” and wanted to take his kids on an impromptu summer vacation, but she read him like a book anyway. “What’s her name?” is all she’d asked when he’d shown up on her doorstep a couple of months ago looking tired and distracted. “Doesn’t matter” he’d carelessly shrugged back, not meeting her gaze. Carol had pursed her lips and hummed her agreement but otherwise didn’t push. She knew better. Dave wasn’t exactly one for expressing his feelings, even when they’d been married.

The weeks that follow since bringing his kids back to their mother seem to pass by in a blur as he throws himself full force back into his work, even working on the weekends that he’s not with his kids, mostly as a distraction rather than a necessity. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what his Saturday nights used to be, before. And despite his ex-wife’s wishes he knows he’s not taking proper care of himself. He’s working too much, drinking too much (apart from the days when he has his children of course) and certainly not eating enough. He feels pathetic. Like some lovesick puppy and it’s definitely not a feeling he’s used to. Hell, he didn’t even feel like this when he got divorced or when his now ex-wife got remarried. He bought them a damn wedding present and danced with his daughters standing on his feet at the reception hall. Not that he was thrilled to be a divorced Dad or anything, but he couldn’t argue with Carol when she told him he wasn’t giving her enough of himself. He did feel like shit for months after the separation but after a while it faded and he was able to carve out a new life for himself and he was fine. Happy might have been a stretch, but he was existing just fine.

He of course hadn’t expected you and your husband to turn up barely a year later and turn his whole life upside for several months. It had started out as just fun. Blowing off steam, getting his dick wet, he was far from complaining about any of it. He loved how obedient you both were to him immediately, filling a void in him that he hadn’t engaged in nearly as much as he wanted to. Sure he’d had some rough fucks in his day but that was different than what he had with you. Having a partner - partners - that you built a trust with just brought everything to a new, heightened level and that, well, he hadn’t quite experienced before. But along with trust, of course other feelings start to emerge, feelings Dave had long since given up on expecting to have at this point in his life. And having these feelings for a fucking already married couple did not help his situation any. It was a mistake, he realizes in hindsight, spending your birthday with you both. An entire weekend wrapped up with you, spending the night together, waking up together, having meals together, it was… well, for Dave, it was everything. Everything he never even knew he was looking for and of fucking course he had to find it with two people who already had each other.

And now? Now what the fuck was he doing? Drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of overpriced bourbon at a bar, by himself, on a Friday night. Just like he’s found himself the past countless Friday nights, hoping he’d wake up the next morning and be able to forget about the two people who had apparently taken up permanent residence in the tight cavity of his chest, refusing to be let go.

He was fucking pathetic. And probably needed to get laid, too. That was one thing he could surely do something about easily enough. He’s been coming to this same bar every Friday night for a month now and one cute waitress in particular never seemed to stray very far from his table and he wasn’t that great of a tipper. He’d barely managed a second glance in her direction his past few visits but maybe tonight he should change that. The drinking wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore and this week was his off-week from seeing his kids so he didn’t have that to keep himself occupied either.

Mind made up he signals the waitress over to his table - whatever her name was. She’d told him probably a dozen times but fuck if he could remember it. It didn’t matter, after tonight he doesn’t plan on seeing her again and he’ll make sure she understands that before he actually leaves with her. For now, what’s the harm in a little fun? A decent pair of tits and a tight pussy is all he needs to get his head back on straight he thinks. And judging by the way the waitress basically comes bouncing over to him the moment he waves her over, it isn’t going to be much of a challenge. The only challenge for Dave will be when he closes his eyes as he sinks inside her, hoping, praying that it’s no longer the image of you that’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.

~ YOU ~

It’s been nearly four months since your birthday. Since you last saw him.

In the time since that first weekend after Dave had disappeared from your lives, you and Marcus had found your rhythm again. Your lives are back to normal and, realistically, maybe even better than they’ve ever been. You were communicating so much more now and your physical relationship (which, you’d never had much of an issue with to begin with) was definitely thriving. Due to the increased communication, the two of you were always not only willing, but eager to talk more while in bed about anything you were particularly craving and put in the effort together for each other. It had really started the night Marcus had taken charge (a week after your birthday) and fully blossomed from there. There was one Sunday morning back a few months ago where the two of you laid in bed together with your laptop in front of you and were online shopping for fun new sex toys you both might enjoy. You filled your cart without judgment or shame and Marcus hastily typed in his credit card information when you were done browsing. The moment you heard the ‘swish’ of the order confirmation being sent, Marcus snapped the laptop closed, tossed it to the far corner of the bed and then all but pounced on you.

Early on when the two of you were still navigating your post-Dave waters Marcus had even asked you if you still wanted someone else in your lives. The role Dave was meant to (and had initially) played, you assume he meant (before it had gone and gotten complicated). You could tell by the way he asked you, his voice unsure and hesitant sounding, that it wasn’t something he wanted. And in all honesty, you didn’t want it anymore either and you were quick to assure him of that. Not only was Marcus indulging and fulfilling anything you desired, but whoever it was, they’d never be Dave anyway. It didn’t have to be said out loud that he was the only extra piece you’d both ever want in your marriage, you both knew it already.

Sunday mornings seemed to be when you’d find yourself thinking of and missing Dave the most, when you’d look around your bedroom in the aftermath of what your Saturday night had been. Saturday nights had become your routinely scheduled evenings where you and Marcus would get extra adventurous in bed, typically breaking in more of your new toys you’d purchased and just letting loose and taking out all your stresses of the week on one another.

One particular Sunday morning you remember lying next to Marcus who had just opened his beautiful sleepy eyes and you brushed his hair back from his forehead and then let out a little giggle followed by a sad sigh when your gaze caught site of the black fuzzy handcuffs that were still looped around one of the spokes in the headboard.

“He would’ve loved to see you like that,” you murmur, eyebrow raised playfully and you actually see Marcus’ ears turn pink and he bashfully hides his face in the pillow for a quick moment and laughs.

“You think so?”

“I know so baby. God you were so hot, at my mercy like that.”

Your blood begins to run hot just thinking about it again now. How he’d submitted to you. He’d laid down on his stomach, arms stretched above his head where you’d cuffed him to the bed and then you sat back on his thighs, massaging his ass with one hand while the other prepared the lube and the plug that the two of you had picked out together on your impromptu online shopping adventure a couple of weeks earlier in the other. It was the first time he’d ever let you do anything like that to him, though you’d discussed it a few times beforehand, and you were both pleasantly surprised how hot you found it.

You’d slowly fed him the plug, all the while gently rubbing his back with your free hand, soothing him and telling him how well he was doing for you. You still can’t erase from memory the way your breath hitched when he replied in a low, quivering voice, “yeah, I’m being a good boy?” God, the way the arousal instantly flooded you it was a miracle you were able to continue what you were doing and not abandon it all together to take care of yourself.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you assured him, hand leaving his back to smoothing across the globes of his ass instead

Once you’d gotten it all the way inside and ensured he was comfortable you’d began to slowly maneuver it partially out and then back in, over and over again until it got to feeling so good for him that you’d gotten off his legs and let him get up on his knees when he’d begged you to let him fuck you.

You slid underneath his body, never uncuffing him, wriggling up the bed until you were face to face and left the plug seated deep in his ass as you helped guide his leaking tip to your entrance and he pushed inside. His hands were able to grip the spokes in the headboard so he had some leverage while still held captive in his position and he railed into you deep and hard, moaning like you’d never heard him before for the entire time, like he was on an entirely different plane of pleasure he hadn’t yet experienced.

Afterwards when you both lay spent and chests heaving with exhaustion you’d uncuffed him, gently removed the plug and gathered him in your arms, letting him cling to you with his head resting on your chest. You kissed and played with his hair, murmuring into the top of his head what a good boy he was for you and he just held you tighter until you’d both fallen asleep.

You loved your playful, risque and experimental Saturday nights, but you also loved the quieter, more intimate times as well. You loved waking up on a Sunday morning and lazily making love for hours, refusing to leave the comfort of your marital bed for most of the day. You loved weeknights sprawled out on the sofa relaxing after dinner and watching TV when you’d start necking like teenagers until he’d shove your pants down and slip inside of you, fucking you slow and deep until you both came and then he’d carry you up the stairs to bed. You loved nights when you were both too exhausted from your work days to do much of anything but still wanted to be close so you’d make out a little until he got hard and he would push inside your warm heat and then just wrap his arms around you and hold you until you’d both fall asleep with him inside you.

At the end of the day, well and truly, this had been what you both had wanted, originally. Dave was meant to come in, spice up your love life a little bit, teach you both a couple of things and then leave you to your lives with your newfound sexual knowledge. He’d done that, and yet, there was no denying that you still felt like a piece was just missing now.

A Dave York shaped piece.

You didn’t like to bring him up often to each other anymore. All it did was cause sadness for you both. You’d talked a lot early on and had eventually both admitted out loud your feelings you had for Dave but now there was no use bringing up his name anymore. He was gone and you had to accept it. It didn’t mean you couldn’t miss him, because oh, you missed him. All the time. But there was no use dwelling on something you had no control over, you had to move on. And you had, for the most part.

Or so you thought, until one Friday evening when your work colleagues managed to drag you out with them to a bar and there in the flesh, across the room of the dimly lit tavern, sat the one and only Dave fucking York.

You’d nearly spilled your drink on yourself when your head had turned and you saw him in your peripheral. He looked handsome as ever, wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top couple of buttons undone showing a teasing amount of perfect sun-kissed skin. Wherever his “emergency sabbatical” took him, it was apparently somewhere spent mostly outdoors in the sun you presume. His face looked a little thinner as well, his features more sharp and refined and you have to wonder if he’s been hitting the gym a lot more recently.

The only thing, frankly, that didn’t look good on him right now was the tiny blonde currently seated in his lap holding up a tray of shots you assume were meant for another table before Dave had intervened when something pretty caught his eye. You could practically feel your blood boiling at the sight before you, those deft fingers that knew your body all too well pulling and teasing at the belt loops of the tiny denim shorts the waitress was wearing while she threw her head back in laughter at something he’d said, eating up whatever attention he was willing to give her and you can’t say you blamed the girl. When the sly, sexy grin crossed his lips and he buried his face in her hair to undoubtedly whisper something absolutely filthy next to her ear and you saw her bite her lip in response, it felt like a hard slap across the face and everything happening around you instantly turned to white noise as you focused all your attention on the man across the room who, far as you could tell, hadn’t noticed you yet.

Before you do anything you quickly dig into your purse hanging on your chair for your phone and send a text to Marcus letting him know that Dave is here. His reply of ‘holy shit’ comes back near instantly but before you have a chance to type anything further you hear a loud voice bellowing from behind you for service, waiting for their shots apparently, and the tiny blonde regretfully starts to peel herself off of Dave’s lap to attend to her duties. Unfortunately Dave’s eyeline drifts to where the voice comes from, which you happen to be right in the cross hairs of. You see the tiniest flicker of shock etch across his features before his carefully crafted mask slips perfectly back into place and he gives you a small shit-eating grin that you wish you had the courage to slap right off of him. Eyes not leaving yours he simply picks up his beer and pulls another sip from it before he reaches out, grabs the hand of the waitress about to walk away and tugs her back into his lap, wrapping a possessive arm around her. His gaze never leaves you, even as his head tilts down to press his lips to the girl's shoulder.

Asshole.

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them. He’s being a prick on purpose and you simply hate him in this moment. Dave York was a lot of things, but you’d never known him to be mean. Until now.

Not able to look at him another second you hastily push back from the table, your chair screeching across the hardwood loud enough to stop the idle chit-chat amongst your table of coworkers as they all stop to stare at you, having no clue what’s going on.

“I’ll be right back, just… need some air,” you explain curtly, not offering anything further or waiting for anyone to offer to accompany you.

You vaguely hear one of them calling your name questioningly as you stand up from the table and storm off towards the exit, passing Dave who’s now downing the entire tray of shots like they’re water.

Good, drink yourself half to death, you fucking idiot.

When the cool evening air hits you the moment you step outside it's like a brief reprieve and you take a deep breath, tears freely spilling down your cheeks now that you hastily try wiping away with the back of your hand. There’s a small crowd standing outside the front doors smoking cigarettes and vape pens but the chatter amongst them halts to a dead silence when the door slams shut behind you in your haste to get outside. Not in the mood for any onlookers, you quickly head off in the opposite direction and take the left turn down the alley at the side of the building for some privacy until you can catch your breath and, god willing, get your body to stop trembling. You realize too that you’d left your purse and your phone inside and you can’t possibly go back in there right now, not like this.

“Fuck,” you sigh into the desolate alley, stopping to lean your back against the cool brick and hanging your head, burying your face in your hands. The emotions of it all, of seeing him again, hits you like a ton of bricks and you let out a loud sob, your legs practically buckling from underneath you causing you to slide down the wall and squat down, elbows resting on your knees and face still buried in your hands as the now quieter sobs continue to rack your body.

You’re feeling just about every emotion under the sun right now and they’re all pouring out of you at once. You’re angry, jealous, sad, irritated, but maybe worst of all you’re reminded of just how fucking badly you still miss him. How badly you weren’t over him. And you hate yourself for it.

“Gotta light?”

That voice… of course you recognize it the second you hear it, even with his words slightly slurred and your face practically buried between your knees, and of course he had to follow you out here. The moment your head raises to look at his smug smirk with the cigarette dangling between his perfect lips you scowl, quickly rising to your feet and taking the two short strides over to where he stands in the middle of the alley and you snatch white stick from his mouth and immediately snap it in two, tossing it carelessly to the ground between you.

“Hey!” Dave barks at you, his voice sharp and loud as it echoes off the walls of the tight alleyway.

As if he has any right to be the one pissed off right now.

“Oh you don’t even smoke,” you argue back immediately, not in any type of mood to be taking shit from this man.

“I’m a social smoker,” he shrugs and you doubt even that’s the truth, he just wanted a reason to follow after you.

“You’re an asshole,” you bite back, not missing a beat.

He scoffs. “Somebody’s in a mood. Maybe you need that cigarette more than I do.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He’s on you before the last syllable even leaves your lips, both his large hands on your shoulders shoving you backwards until your back hits the wall and he’s crowding your space, leaving barely an inch of space between your two bodies that are now breathing heavily with adrenaline. You can smell the alcohol on him and you know he’s had a lot to drink. If you weren’t half buzzed already you could probably get there just by the smell wafting off of him.

“Think you’d rather I fuck you, hmm? That where all this attitude is coming from Baby?”

His hips force yours further into the unforgiving brick behind you as his hands leave your shoulders to grip your waist instead and you can feel the hard outline of his obvious desire pressing against you. You bite your lip to suppress the moan that’s begging to escape your throat but it slips through anyway; barely registering but he hears it. Of course he does. You can see the way the corner of his lip turns upward into a sly grin.

“There’s my girl.”

“I’m not your anything! You fucking left Dave. You left!” You raise your hands up to shove hard at his chest but he’s like an immovable wall.

“I know.”

His voice is suddenly soft, dare you say, remorseful sounding. You hate how your resolve and anger instantly starts to wane the moment he lets his guard down even the slightest bit.

“I know,” he repeats it again, softer, quieter, his forehead coming down to rest against yours where he slightly shakes his head back and forth. One hand lets go of the grip on your waist and he gently rubs the back of his knuckles up and down the top of your arm, just a barely-there touch that’s already causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh.

“What do you want?” you ask, trying to sound stronger than what you know you’re actually capable of right now. “Why did you follow me out here?”

“I want what you want”. His voice is suddenly at your ear and an involuntary shiver runs through your entire body. “Come home with me,” he tries, his voice slurring just slightly and you roll your eyes and attempt to put space between the two of you again. This time he’s not expecting it and you do manage to push him back a few inches and he wobbles on his feet.

“A drunk fuck so you can disappear again the minute it’s over, you think that’s what I want?” You’re practically screaming at him now, but you don’t care, he deserves it.

“C’mon,” he huffs, sounding annoyed as he quickly crowds your space once more, this time he manages to grab your hands and hoist them above your head, pressing them into the wall so you can’t push him off you again. “One last time for old times sake, huh? Let me fuck this attitude right out of you”

“I’m married, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before,” he smirks and then lowers his face down so he can nuzzle into you, his nose grazing your ear and his smooth cheek brushing against yours and for a moment you feel yourself melting into his soft touch.

Your voice lacks the conviction you know it should when you rasp out a quiet "Dave, stop”. You won’t go home with him, you know you won’t. You’d never hurt Marcus like that (again), but the smell of his familiar cologne on his shirt collar, the way his warm skin feels pressed against yours and how your body seemingly just fits into the contours of his own you can’t find it in you to immediately try and push him away again either. It’s been so long, you want to just feel him. Just for a moment.

“Kiss me,” he tries, voice suddenly at your ear before he moves just slightly until his lips hover on yours. He doesn’t force it on you, waiting for you to make that final move and close the distance between you. It takes everything in you, but you manage to turn your face away and you hear his desolate sigh in response, hot breath fanning your cheek.

“Take a hint buddy,” a deep voice suddenly interrupts and both your heads snap to the side where you see an enormous man standing at the opening of the alley, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He must be a good six inches shorter than Dave but easily has over 100lbs on him. He’s a very wide, stocky man with a long ponytail and a studded leather vest over top of a faded t-shirt and covered in tattoos, looking like he belongs in some type of biker gang. You immediately recognize him as the man from earlier who tried to summon the waitress from Dave.

He fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame up to light the cigarette and takes a long drag before breathing a large cloud of smoke out.

“She’s not interested,” he repeats when Dave doesn’t loosen his hold on you. “And you’re paying for those six shots by the way, prick.”

“What, you think she’s saving herself for you?” Dave laughs, incredulous. His hands suddenly leave yours, allowing your arms to drop down to your sides and he takes a step back from you, fully turning towards the man who’s now taken a few tentative steps into the alley. Dave reaches a hand into his back pocket fishing out his wallet. He pulls what looks to be a fifty from the bill fold, scrunches it up to a ball and throws it in the direction of the man standing in front of him before closing his wallet and returning it to his pants.

“There, now fuck off.”

“What’s your problem man?” The bystander asks, flicking his cigarette away and taking two long strides forward, the fifty note left crumpled and forgotten on the ground.

“My problem? My problem is fucking assholes who can’t mind their own business. Go fuck off and get your micro dick sucked somewhere else.”

Your brow furrows as you listen to Dave seemingly intentionally picking a fight with this complete stranger. This was not the calm, cool, collected Dave that you’re used to.

You didn’t like whoever this Dave was.

“Wanna try saying that to my face, shithead?” The shorter man challenges, taking another step towards Dave.

“Dave, just leave it,” you try but he waves a flippant hand at you, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“How bout I get you a stepstool and you say it to mine, small fry.”

“Don’t need a stool to lay you out right here on the pavement,” he challenges right back, taking yet another step closer until they’re just inches apart, the shorter man apparently not intimidated whatsoever and likely rather comfortable in a fight, you assume. What he doesn’t know, however, and what you do, is Dave’s extensive military training. Even drunk you have no doubt he could easily kill this man and barely break a sweat, if he wanted to.

“Leave it alone Dave, c’mon, I mean it!” You try again but you might as well be talking to the wall behind you, as neither of the men are paying you any attention any longer. Ironic, since you’re half the reason the fight started in the first place. Men.

“Tell you what,” Dave begins, voice smug. “First one’s free,” he finishes, raising his arms up in the air, defenseless.

Before you even have a chance to plead with them once more the other man swings, clocking Dave right in the gut that has him doubling over for a few brief seconds before he quickly rights himself again, and, to your astonishment, starts laughing.

“That it?” Dave laughs, back to his full height again. “C’mon, again,” he goads.

This time the stranger's fist connects with Dave’s face, causing his head to swing left with the impact he puts behind it. You quickly scramble over to Dave who lets out another chuckle as he wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and turns back to face his foe.

“Pussy,” Dave taunts before spitting blood to the ground at the man's feet. “Why don’t we call the waitress out from inside, she probably hits harder than you do.”

“Dave!”

You watch it happening like it’s in slow motion, how the man grabs Dave’s head with both hands and smashes it into the brick wall and Dave, for whatever reason, doesn’t even fight it. It makes you think of those videos you had to watch in Drivers Ed as a teenager, how the drunk driver in the scenario is typically the one to survive a collision because their response time is so slow their body just lets go and goes with the flow rather than bracing for impact. The part that really tears you up inside though is you don’t even think it’s the alcohol, you think he’s doing it on purpose, wanting to get hurt. You hear the loud smack as his forehead hits the brick and you instantly surge forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he collapses into you and you both slowly slide down to the ground with him in your arms because you can’t hold his weight.

“Get up, you piece of shit!” the stranger yells, furious, and you scream, covering Dave’s body with your own where he lays in your lap as the man winds up to kick Dave while he’s down.

“Enough!” A third man’s voice shouts and relief floods your whole system as you recognize it’s Marcus. In a flash he’s crossing the alley, grabbing the stranger by his shirt and shoving him into the brick and holding him there. Marcus was definitely ‘a lover not a fighter’, but he could certainly hold his own when it came down to it if need be. You’re not scared any longer.

“You alright Honey?” he asks, quickly chancing a glance over to where you’re kneeled on the ground with Dave’s head in your lap, surveying the laceration above his eyebrow.

The man in Marcus’ grasp looks at the two of you confused, then when he notices Marcus’ wedding ring where his fists are cuffed in his shirt, his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Holy shit, is this your wife? I just did you a favour pal,” he scoffs, lightly shoving at Marcus and Marcus backs off just slightly, letting go but staying close in case the man wants to go at Dave again who’s practically unconscious at this point.

“Look it's fine just… go back inside please,” Marcus huffs before he turns back to you and frowns. “Think we can get him up?”

Between the two of you and Dave’s slight cooperation (as much as he can manage with not only how intoxicated he is but how he surely just got few screws knocked loose thanks to that brick wall) you manage to get him up and he looks around a little disoriented, shaking his head while you and Marcus flank either side of him and hold him up.

“Marcus? You’re here,” Dave slurs and then turns his entire body into him and practically collapses into his arms in what you think was meant to be a hug. Marcus manages to hold Dave upright, both his arms holding under Dave’s armpits to keep him on his feet.

“I’m here,” Marcus croaks out. “I’ve got you.”

“The fuck?” the stranger mutters, shaking his head as he watches what must surely be a very strange reaction to a husband finding another man hitting on his wife in a dark alley. “Good luck with… well, all of that pal,” he says with a wave of his hand in the direction of the three of you before he turns on his heel, bends down to pick up the discarded fifty and heads back out of the alley and presumably back toward the bar.

“I’m drunk,” Dave suddenly breaks the silence, pushing back slightly from Marcus and wavering on his feet. His brows furrow in confusion and he wipes at his forehead. When his hand comes into his eyeline and he sees blood smeared on it, his features scrunch up again. “And I think I hit my head?”

“It’s ok, do you think you can help us get you to the car? It’s close,” Marcus tries to explain to Dave who manages a small nod. You get behind Dave and lift one of his arms up and turn him slightly, draping his arm over your shoulders as you move with him to stand at his side, Marcus now holding up the other. Thankfully Marcus had hastily just parked the car in a loading zone directly in front of the bar after you failed to answer any of his texts or calls so the walk was quick and you managed to get Dave shoved into the front passenger seat. You quickly run back inside to grab your purse and phone and say a quick goodnight to your coworkers and then hurry back out to the car. Dave mumbles off his address once Marcus slides into the driver’s seat and Marcus gives a non-commital grunt of acknowledgement before he pulls away from the curb and drives away. Barely two minutes later Dave’s head is tilted all the way back into the headrest and he’s passed out. You lean forward from the backseat to address Marcus.

“We can’t take him home like that. What if he has a concussion or something?”

“I’m not taking him home” Marcus quickly responds, shaking his head.

With a satisfied sigh you lean back into your seat.

What a fucking disaster.

Barely ten minutes later Marcus pulls into your driveway, hitting the button clipped to the sun visor to open the garage. The last thing he needs is for his neighbors to see the two of you dragging a bloodied half unconscious man into your home in the middle of the night.

You only manage to get him as far as the couch on the main floor, an upstairs bedroom too harrowing of a feat to attempt you presume with Dave’s inability to offer much of his own assistance. With a loud grunt you manage to drop him down to a seated position on the sofa and he immediately falls back into the soft cushions.

“Stay with him, I’ll get some water and something for his head,” Marcus says and you nod your head.

He’s only gone a minute or so, taking a little longer because he couldn’t find the Aspirin bottle right away, but when he returns with two extra strength tablets and a full glass of water he stops in his tracks just inside the living room.

Dave is flopped on his side, face resting on your lap facing where Marcus stands while your hands delicately card through his hair.

He’s murmuring quiet little ramblings with his eyes closed, something about “fucked up” and “so sorry” and you just gently hush him, running your fingers through his sweat damp hair.

“We need to clean him up” you tell Marcus when you notice him standing there. There’s blood still smeared across his forehead but thankfully not very much, he hadn’t been actively bleeding for very long. At least you know he doesn’t require any stitches.

Marcus sighs and crosses the room, getting down on his haunches in front of the couch in Dave’s direct eye line.

“Hey Buddy,” he tries softly. “Need you to sit up for me, have some water and take these.”

Dave grunts, noncommittally, but ultimately does try and push himself up. You both help until he’s back into a seated position and Marcus hands him the two white tablets. Dave stares at them for several seconds before tossing them back into his throat and swallowing without water. You tisk at him and shove the water glass into his hand.

“Drink,” you order. He does. He finishes near the entire glass in one go and your eyes widen in surprise.

“There,” he sighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can I go now?”

You’re so frustrated you could smack him. One second he’s being a total asshole, the next he’s trying to kiss you, then he’s purposely getting the shit beat out of him, then practically crying in your lap, and now he’s back to being obstinate again.

He was right about one thing. He is fucked up. And you don’t think it’s just the booze.

“I’m sorry, no,” you shake your head, trying to sound less angry than you feel. The last thing you need is to pick another fight with this unpredictable man right now. “Baby, you’re bleeding”

The endearment slips out completely by accident. You don’t even notice you’ve said it but both Dave and Marcus do, their widened gazes turning to you at the exact same moment.

“Dave,” you quickly try to correct, shaking your head.

He lets out a little snort and nods his head, like he’s willing to let you get away with your little slip up.

“You hit your head really hard, you can’t be alone tonight. If you can make it upstairs you can have the guest room, if not, we can make up the couch. In the morning you’re free to go, I promise.”

“Fine,” he relents, shoulders dropping.

“Think you can help us get you upstairs?” you ask and he nods his head. Both you and Marcus throw one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up, taking each of the steps up the staircase slowly. Dave seems to be somewhat coming out of his fog and much more helpful this time, thankfully. You’re pretty sure it’s just the alcohol working against him now, his brain mostly cleared from the fog of the head trauma. Once you reach the top of the stairs you go to turn towards the guest room but Dave plants his feet and attempts to twist his body away from it, toward the direction he knows your and Marcus’ master bedroom is instead. You and Marcus both share a look behind Dave’s back where you’re holding him and after a moment Marcus gives you one solitary nod, acquiescing to Dave's wishes.

Once inside the room you unravel yourself from Dave as Marcus sits down on the edge of the mattress, bringing Dave with him to sit next to him. You head off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and come back into the room to gently wipe away the blood and dirt at Dave’s forehead.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” you mutter as you clean him up best you can, shaking your head slightly. He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to, nor do you really even want him to in his condition. He needs to sleep it off, maybe you’ll get some clarity in the morning.

Once he’s cleaned up Marcus lifts Dave’s arm off of him and puts it into his lap. He isn’t sure what to do next so he leaves Dave there and wanders off to the bathroom to find you where you’re rinsing off the washcloth in the sink.

“What do we do with him?” he asks quietly.

“Well… honestly it’s probably better we’re in the same room anyway, that way if something happens in the middle of the night we’re there,” you reason and Marcus nods.

“Ok…” he sighs, following after you as you exit the bathroom and flick off its light.

You stop just outside the bathroom when you see Dave passed out in the middle of your bed, all his clothes - including his shoes - still on and you sigh.

“I got it,” Marcus says, going to the end of the bed and untying the laces of Dave’s shoes before placing them on the ground. That’s all you undress of him though, he’ll be fine sleeping in the rest of his clothes. Marcus was already in sweats and a t-shirt but you were still in work clothes so go over to your dresser and fish out a pair of pajamas and quickly change. Once you’re ready for bed you turn out the lights and both you and Marcus crawl in on either side of Dave. You can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it through his hair as his light snores fill the quiet, darkened room.

Fuck, you really missed him.

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#dave york #marcus pike #ppcu fanfiction #dave york x marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #dave york x you #dave york smut #marcus p #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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