#woULDN'T SHE DIE AS SOON AS THEY WERE ALL PUT TO SLEEP THEN )

[cryptiduni]

“white mourning.”

[koling2345]

Retired Simon| NSFW

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Retired! Simon who: Signed the papers to retire as soon as your daughter was born. He wouldn't risk his daughter growing up without a father and you becoming a widow. Never.

Retired! Simon who: Got a job in construction, it was nothing much, quite simple compared to what he'd already had in the army. What he had to do was more related to manual labor. Which he was already used to.

Retired! Simon who: Always came home at six, all tired and sweaty from an exhausting day's work. Working as a construction helper wasn't easy, but for someone who had already worked in much worse situations, it seemed like a piece of cake.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the feeling of coming home, and seeing you and his daughter waiting for him, you with a smile on your face, and the little girl speaking some gibberish, and making loud noises when she saw her father. It was a little piece of heaven on earth.

Retired! Simon who: Was crazy about your food, there was nothing better than coming home and smelling the food you made, it made his stomach rumble. That's why you always made extra food, because he ate like an elephant, literally, you could fill his plate, and he would repeat it. He just loved your food.

Retired! Simon who: Didn't take long to acquire a sweet tooth, your desserts just ruined him. Even if he ate more than enough at dinner, there was always more room for whatever dessert you made. Cake? Oh, he'd eat half the cake in one day, especially if you put icing on it. From time to time, he would eat your sweets and steal your chocolate from the fridge. So it was no surprise when you shouted 'Simon Riley' around the house. He already knew the crime he'd committed, and he wasn't the least bit sorry.

Retired! Simon who: Absolutely adored coming home to hear your little girl talking, she still struggled to pronounce the right words, but Simon made an effort to understand the little princess, even if she said silly childish things. Since she was always complaining about how tiring her day was, that she did a lot of things. She'd only put her toys back in the toy box.

Retired! Simon who: Loved it when you'd bring him lunch at work, it was a good excuse to chat with you during his break. As well as stealing a few kisses from you. Sometimes even something more.

Retired! Simon who: No matter how tired he was, he always put your little girl to sleep, telling her her favorite princess story, watching as she slowly fell asleep. Every time Simon saw his daughter sleeping so peacefully, he felt his heart flutter. It was a view he would never be tired of.

Retired! Simon who: Helped you with the housework, hated you being overwhelmed, so he washed the dinner dishes, put the clothes in the wash, prepared a bath for you. He himself would rather die of exhaustion than see you doing too many chores. He was your husband, so he always helped you. He always put you first, even if he arrived completely exhausted. It was nothing much, just him being a descent husband, as you deserved.

Retired! Simon who: Sometimes he came home so tired, all he wanted was a good head, his body was so sore, all he wanted was to sit on the sofa and let you do the work, getting down on your knees and deep- throat him. Just the way he loved it, his cock shoved into your mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat, while you looked up at him, eyes filling with tears, you obeyed his words of encouragement, always taking him deeper. Until you choked, and he pushed deep into your throat.

Retired! Simon who: Always gave you rewards after a well-delivered oral, this consisted of waking you up with him right between your legs, head buried between your thighs while he lapped you up. Sucking your clit really hard, just to hear you wake up, moaning and whimpering that you were sensitive. Not that he was going to stop, because he was working on you even more.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the lazy sex sessions in the morning, he loved seeing you all sensitive and sly, taking his cock so well, even though you were drunk with sleep. Sometimes he'd just turn you over and put his cock in your sopping cunt, because he knew you were always ready for him. You were made for him, after all.

Retired! Simon who: Was a complete slut for you, could never keep his hands off you, sometimes even at work he would ask for photos, so he could jerk off and relieve a little of his stress. And he would definitely fuck you hard when he got home.

Retired! Simon who: Also loved having romantic sex with you, having you on his lap while you rode his cock, slowly, at your own pace. His hands on your hips while the two of you kissed, whispering sweet nothings to each other. He liked it so much, he couldn't feel your pussy clenching around his girth, he'd come just like that. Your fault for doing it so well.

Retired! Simon who: Never thought he wanted to have a big family, until you got pregnant. After your first child, he certainly wanted more, of course, if you wanted them too. And given the countless times he's taken you around the house, it wouldn't be a surprise if you turned up pregnant once again.

Retired! Simon who: Wouldn't trade anything, absolutely anything, for his family. As much as he loved his old job, nothing was better than coming home, warm food, a sweet little girl, and a beautiful wife, that was priceless. And he'd be crazy to let that go.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Hi guys! Sorry for disappearing, I'm just posting to let you know I'm alive. If I manage to post anything in the next few days, it's scheduled, I won't be able to answer comments or questions, I'm in my college exam week 😐. I'm totally cooked🫠, so I should only be around for the next week! I'm not ignoring anyone, I promise to reply as soon as I can 🫶🏻

[cjlouwho]

Sleep Talking

(Dedicated to my niece, who wakes me up weekly with very detailed sleep discussions about roblox)

Before Buck slept over for the first time, Tommy had given him a warning.

“Sometimes I talk in my sleep,” he'd said. “It's not always, and usually only when I'm overly tired or stressed, but... just in case, wanted you to know.”

He'd given Buck the option to change his mind. He could stay in the spare room, or go home if he wanted, but Buck simply pulled him closer and told him there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here.

Nothing happened that first night, or the next time they slept together, or even the next time.

Buck was starting to wonder if this was something from Tommy's childhood. Something he'd grown out of a long time ago, he just didn't know it.

And that's when it happened.

“I don't want those teeth,” he'd mumbled out, pushing a hand out in front of him. “No. Thank. You.”

He'd just gotten off a 48 that turned into a 52 and had barely gotten any sleep. He'd passed out as soon as his head hit the bed, and Buck sat up beside him, quietly reading a book with the lamp light on low.

Buck was a little startled at first, looking over at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What?” he'd asked, thinking for a split second that Tommy had woken up with something to say.

But when he saw Tommy's eyes shut tight, his face scrunched up in that way it did when he was annoyed, Buck knew.

He was sleep talking.

So, Buck waited. He waited to see if Tommy had anything else to say.

A couple minutes went by, and Tommy's face relaxed again, so Buck went to turn back to his book, then-

“I'd rather die then get veneers.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn't done.

“I just don't like them,” he continued, again shoving his hand out like he was pushing something away. “Take it all. Not my pearly whites.”

Buck closed his book and laid it on the nightstand, shutting off the light and scooting further into bed. As he did, Tommy turned and immediately snuggled into his side, resting his head on Buck's chest. “I go home with all teeth,” he commanded.

Buck wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You'll get to keep your teeth, Babe,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“Hmph,” Tommy huffed. “Giddy up says the cowboy, I guess.”

Buck tried and failed to contain his laughter, but still he held Tommy closer as he drifted off to sleep himself. Luckily, he didn't mind the noise.

*****

“I don't care if she wants to go home. She is here, her leg is'a half mile down road. She going to hospital now stat!”

Tommy had mentioned having a difficult day at work. Buck was already at his place when he got home, food coming out of the oven and ready to eat as soon as Tommy showered and got changed.

They'd had a comfortably quiet dinner, Tommy mostly speaking about how good the food was, and asking Evan to please stay the night.

He didn't need to be convinced.

They'd fallen asleep with their naked bodies tangled together, too lazy to get out of bed and put anything back on.

If it wasn't for the fact Tommy was talking nearly directly in Buck's ear, he probably wouldn't have even woken up.

“Lady, you don't have a leg to stand on. Literally. I'm takin' you to hospital and you get help with leg.” He moved his head as though he were turning to speak to someone else, “And help with brain,” he muttered.

Buck tried to unravel himself from Tommy. Get some distance between them so he could go back to sleep without Tommy talking right in his ear. But as soon as he moved, Tommy was rolling over and wiggling around until his head laid directly over Buck's stomach. “People are so stupid,” he whispered into Buck's bellybutton. “This is a comfy sandwich though.”

*****

“Evan makes better casseroles than this.”

It was the middle of the day, and Tommy had fallen asleep on the couch. They'd spent thirty-six of the last forty-eight hours moving Buck's things into his place, and that was after Tommy had come off of a forty-eight hour shift. So, while Buck and Eddie finished eating lunch at the kitchen table, Tommy had decided to lie down and rest his eyes for a few minutes.

“This casserole tastes like sewage.”

Eddie peered into the living room, then looked over at Buck, who was eating his sandwich like nothing was happening at all.

“What's he talking about?” Eddie asked.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What? Who?”

“Evan uses chicken breast. So much better than this.”

Eddie waved in Tommy's direction. “Come on, Man!”

“Oh! Yeah, he's just sleep talking. Does it when he's overly tired.”

“He... He sleep talks about your casseroles?”

Buck smiled, nodding. “He really likes them. You know, I wasn't sure if he was just telling me they were good to be nice, but he doesn't have a filter when he sleep talks so that's how I know.”

Eddie glanced at Tommy again. “Does he ever sleep talk about me?”

Buck's posture straightened and he pursed his lips. “I can't break that trust, Eddie.”

“He does!” Eddie exclaimed. “What's he say? Did he talk about Muay Thai? Because headbutting is an illegal move so technically he didn't win.”

“I said I can't break his trust,” Buck repeated, getting up to throw his trash away. “Although, if someone was losing so they made it look like they got headbutted... Well, I wouldn't know anything about it.”

“I knew it! Your man is such a sore loser, Buck.” Eddie got up and walked over to Tommy, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. “I spent my day off unloading boxes for you,” he whispered over him. “I could have left you alone with Buck. Everyone else made excuses but I didn't.”

“Only thing better than casserole is his soup,” Tommy said, one hand going to his stomach. “I call it sex soup, cause it goes down the throat 'n straight to my-"

“Okay,” Eddie grimaced, walking away. “I'm about to lose my lunch.”

“Did he mention sex soup?” Buck asked.

“Mhm.”

Buck nodded. “Always ends up there after casserole.” He shrugged, “It is really good soup though.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned. “I hate you both.”

*****

Buck learned over time that Tommy's sleep talking from being overly tired versus his sleep talking from being stressed were two very different things. Overly tired Tommy was funny, sarcastic, and a little bitchy. He was much like awake Tommy, things just made less sense and he had no filter whatsoever.

Stressed Tommy was like listening to the saddest, most angsty drama you've ever heard in your life.

“Please,” he muttered out, sounding like he was on the verge of having a breakdown. “Please, listen to me.”

Buck was mostly used to the sleep talking now, but the difference in Tommy's voice shook him awake. He knew Tommy had a bad day. It was the anniversary of his mom's death, which was already rough, but then his dad called and said he'd be coming into town. He expected Tommy to meet with him for lunch. When Tommy declined, there was a fight. Mostly on his dad's side, with Tommy sitting there and listening, becoming more and more disconnected with each word. His dad just kept going and going until Buck reached out for the phone, taking it from Tommy's hand and hanging up for him.

He'd gotten quiet after that. Withdrawn in a way Buck hadn't seen before. He was usually an open book about his life. He'd told Buck all the good and the bad, and there was a lot of bad, but something about the phone call was different.

“I don't want you,” Tommy groaned, his head moving left to right so quickly his neck made a popping sound. “I want...” his voice trailed off. Buck slowly lowered his arm over Tommy's waist, hoping that would help him rest, but it only seemed to stir him back up. His legs kicked out quickly as he turned onto his side, facing away from Buck. “You don't listen to me!” he exclaimed. It made Buck's heart race a little. He never usually shouted when he was sleep talking.

“It should have been you, not her!”

The next noise Tommy made sounded less human and more like a dog crying out in pain. His body thrashed out, his arm nearly smacking Buck on the chest.

“You always hated me,” he said, quieter this time. “I see it in the mirror.”

That was all Buck could handle. He quickly sat up and turned the lamp on. “Tommy,” he whispered. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but he knew that was probably the worst idea at this point.

“It's not... It's not fair. It's not fair. I don't-”

“Tommy!”

Tommy's eyes shot open as he sucked in a breath of air.

He blinked a few times, eyes darting around until he met Buck's.

“Was I..?”

Buck nodded. “I think it was a nightmare though. You- I couldn't touch you.”

Tommy looked so tired, his eyes struggling to stay open even as his chest heaved. “I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” Buck replied, moving closer to Tommy now that he was awake. “I was just worried.”

“Was it... about him?”

“Yeah, I- I think so.”

Tommy pulled Buck close, nearly wrapping their bodies together like a pretzel. “I really hate him, Evan,” he said, voice breaking as he settled his head into the crook of Buck's neck.

Buck ran his hand up and down Tommy's back. “I know you do, Baby. I know.”

*****

There was one conversation Tommy had in his sleep more than any other, and Buck never got tired of that one.

“He's so pretty. Like a teapot.”

The things he called Buck were always different, but the overall message never changed.

“This Evan, he is love my life.”

Buck grinned. He loved when Tommy missed a word here and there.

“Nah, he won't bite you. Only me.”

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh before speaking again. “He's my special on menu. I like him and me like peanut butter and jelly. Apple jelly, duh, are you crazy?”

Another sigh, and Tommy wiggled his legs a little. “I know you drive thru, I wants fries with that. He's my chicken nugget. Love my chicken nugget.”

Buck turned to his side, pressing his body against Tommy's and wrapping an arm around him. He pressed a kiss to the back of his head. “Your chicken nugget loves you too.”

[queenendless]

😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷

A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.

Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.

But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.

All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy!

Your throat feels raw.

Your nose feels stuffy.

And you kept coughing every few minutes.

You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.

But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.

The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.

"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.

Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.

"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"

In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.

You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.

That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.

Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.

"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.

In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.

The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.

"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.

"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.

"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.

You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.

You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.

"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."

°•○•°•○•°•○•°

Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.

Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.

The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.

"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"

"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.

"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."

Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"

Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.

So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.

"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.

"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.

"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.

"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."

"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.

"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.

Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"

"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.

"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.

Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"

"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"

"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.

"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.

"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.

"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."

"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.

"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.

"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.

"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.

"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.

"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.

"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.

"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."

"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.

"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.

"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.

"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.

"Y - You're w - welcome!"

Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.

Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.

You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.

But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.

The SatoSugu cure, indeed!

[coff33andb00ks]

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Song: can i be him by james arthur Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

[xxchumanixx]

Hii, are gonna do a part 2 of “doomed” where they get together?

Doomed pt. 3

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, hurt, angst, unspoken feelings, Grey raging Word count: 2.197 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! (I'm sorry it's so late!) Not a part 2, but a part 3 for you! Hope you'll like it anyways! Also, this isn't entirely proof read yet!

Enjoy!

Did he even breathe?

Looking at Tim through your peripheral, you knew he thought the same.

Grey was raging on, talking without breathing.

Soon he'd suffocate, you were sure of it. Luna would have a heart attack, when he would die because of you - because you were dumb enough to be caught by him.

It wasn't even your fault, really.

It was Tim's.

At least that's what you told yourself.

"And I will not be the one who will take the brunt when one of you dies, because you were too busy making love eyes to notice a threat!"

Maybe you should have just told him - at least that's what Grey thought to himself, as he yelled at one of his best officers and his rookie.

Who were sleeping with each other.

He mentally flinched, not wanting to think about it too deeply.

"You are responsible for her training!" he continued, pointing at Tim who had his hands at his sides, trying to just get past this.

He had never felt this uncomfortable in his life before - at least there wasn't much that compared to this situation.

"How do you think will others judge when they learn about your relationship? Do you think they will see her ratings fit? Or will they think you rated her better, because you-" he had to stop himself, or else it would have gotten out of hand - though you all knew, what he wanted to say.

Because you are sleeping with her.

Your career would be ruined, if the right people found out. No one would want you to work for them, never fully trusting you.

As the tears welled up in your eyes, you tried your best to suppress them.

Grey was right, and he had every right to be angry.

"This will have consequences!" he continued, finally taking a deep breath, as he tried to calm himself, for the sake of his heart.

His wife would have killed him, if he dared to have a heart attack - especially when she was currently trying to convince him to retire.

Maybe he should have.

"You will be replaced as her TO - that's the least I will have to do. Other than that, this conversation will never, and I mean never, leave this room. If anyone asks why you were replaced as her TO, you tell them that you don't know."

His eyes wandered from Tim to you, his head shaking in disappointment.

Never would he let you forget this day.

"I can't believe that this happened right under my nose and I didn't notice it." he spoke a little quieter, before his voice rose again. "And I would have never expected such behavior from you, of all people, Bradford!"

Tim swallowed, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. He didn't know what to say, guilt making his tongue heavy as lead.

Grey grumbled to himself, sitting down in his chair. He sighed in exhaustion, wiping over his face with his hand.

"I know I'll regret it later." he began, putting his head in his hand with his elbow on the armrest, as he looked up at you.

You two stood straight as sticks, and for a moment Grey had to smirk inwardly.

"Are you in a relationship or do you plan to be in one?" The same moment he voiced his question, he regretted it. His daughter would have probably told him how embarrassing he was.

Did he want to do the talk now, too?

Your eyes widened, looking at Tim in shock. His gaze was fixed somewhere behind Grey, jaw clenched.

It had been a few months now, since you regularly started to sleep with each other. You couldn't deny that you had become attached, having gathered feelings for him.

But did he feel the same?

Biting your cheek, you looked away.

Of course he wouldn't.

"Okay..." Grey mumbled, scratching his chin, as he leaned back in his chair. "I will still tell you what will await you anyway, in case you decide to be in a relationship somewhere in the future."

He shook himself inwardly, one eye twitching, as he tried to stay as professional as possible.

"I hardly advise you to work separate. Like I said, if one of you dies because you aren't focused on the task at hand, the other will pay the consequences. The LAPD doesn't like it, when two of their officers are in a relationship and in the same unit. It's a risk the intern doesn't want to take."

You simply nodded, swallowing against the lump in your throat.

What other choice did you have anyway?

Grey nodded to himself, not happy his evening had been ruined. Luna would be furious if she knew how close he had been to having a heart attack.

"And now go home. Your shift is over, anyways."

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, you nodded, heading out of the office. You had been lucky the blinds had been closed, otherwise the whole LAPD would have witnessed that conversation.

You didn't look at Tim, as you made your way to the locker room, biting back the emotions trying to take over.

The Mexican food you wanted to order at his place, would be cancelled now, your whole evening ruined.

You really should have looked better if anyone was near, before you talked about private things.

Seriously, how could you miss Grey?

He had seen how close you seemed, after parking the shop, Tim's hand almost brushing yours as he leaned closer to talk into your ear.

This one gesture had spoken more than a thousand words to him.

And it was exactly the reason, why Tim avoided to talk about his private life.

Or show it, for that matter.

But he had a moment of weakness, your flirtatious behavior over the day constantly turning him on.

He really should have known better.

His eyes scanned the parking lot for you, trying to make you out in the dark. He spotted your car, seeing that you weren't there yet, as he made his way over to it.

He decided to wait, fingers drumming on the strap of his backpack, as you left the station.

Fumbling for your keys, you didn't notice him at first, only when you almost stood in front of him.

Blinking a few times in confusion, your cheeks heated up. "What do you want?" you asked, inhaling shakily. "We should talk." he gave back, shifting his weight.

Brows furrowed, you looked at him. "If you want to end things, then just say it, Tim." you told him, trying to act nonchalant about it, even if your heart broke at the possibility of him ending whatever it was you two had.

"Wh- No!" he responded a little too fast, taking a step forward with his mouth agape. "I mean- If you want to end this, then I'll stay away from you."

Eyes widening, you felt how they burned from tears again. Of course you didn't want to end this.

Shaking your head, you told him exactly that.

"I don't want to end this." you spoke, taking a step forward as well, all the while feeling Grey's gaze burning holes in your back, even if he wasn't even near.

"But I don't think we should continue on like this. Grey is right, what we're doing is risky." you continued, sighing heavily. "We're jeopardizing our careers, risking to lose our jobs. Or at least risking our credibility and the trust they have in us. I think it's better, that he replaces you as my TO."

Your words struck something deep inside him, making him swallow. On one side he thought you were right - if he continued being your TO, though not able to keep his hands from you, your career would have been over, before it even started.

On the other hand, he feared that he'd lose you.

"If you want to keep this up, what do you mean we shouldn't continue on like this?" he wanted to know, the crease between his brows deepening.

"Are you breaking up?"

The words had left his lips, before he had a chance to properly think about it. His cheeks burned up, and he was thankful that you weren't able to see it in the dim light of the parking lot.

Your mouth opened, but you weren't able to utter a single word, only staring at him. Chuckling uneasily, you shook your head.

"Breaking up postulates there's something to break up." you told him, voice small. You didn't want him to see the heartbreak in your eyes, so you averted them.

"We're not together - there is nothing to break up."

He swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly way too dry. His heart seemed to be in an iron grip, pumping ice crystals through his veins.

He hated the way you said it, the way you sounded so broken.

"Grey is right." he muttered bitterly, nodding to himself, as he took a step backwards. Your eyes snapped back to his, following his movement.

"We shouldn't do this. The LAPD doesn't approve of it and we only risk our jobs. You're right, we shouldn't continue this."

He turned around and started to walk away, your heart breaking as he did. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt as if you couldn't breathe.

"Tim!" you called out, voice shaking, as you practically jumped after him, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking further away from you.

He stiffened, but didn't turn around. He only stopped, with your hand still on his arm. Inhaling shakily, you braced yourself for your next words.

"I don't want to break up." you softly spoke, one of the tears managing to free itself. Biting your lip, you shook your head. "I don't want to let you go - I can't."

He slowly turned around to you, giving you the chance to take your words back.

But you didn't.

Staring straight back at him, you stood your ground. That you were still at the almost empty parking lot, wasn't important anymore.

Neither were the people that could walk out of the station at any moment.

"If I have to do more tests, have another TO, then so be it. But I don't want to lose you, Tim."

More tears rolled down your cheeks, betraying your aching heart. Your emotions were on display for him to see, and you weren't planning on backing down.

He took a shaky breath, mouth slightly open. He didn't know what to say - hell, he wasn't even sure what you were trying to say. Had you fallen for him? As much as he had fallen for you?

"Hate me, abandon me, whatever you want." you told him, wet lips pressing together, head shaking. "But I can't act like I don't have feelings for you, any longer. Yes, it can cost us our jobs, or just mine, since you're one of the best officers here, but I'm willing to take that risk. Let Grey be angry, shout at us or transfer me when im a p2 - I don't care."

He was speechless, a rare sight.

Swallowing, he took a step closer. "What are you trying to say?" He had to know, had to hear it one more time, in case he had misunderstood you.

"I'm saying that I have feelings for you, that I have fallen in love with you, Tim." you brought over your shaking lips, heart racing as you were nervous how he would respond to your confession.

He huffed, amusement and relief hugging him like a warm blanket. Honestly, he hadn't known how he'd reacted, if you'd pushed him away for real.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you into his embrace, as he exhaled slowly. Hugging him back, your cheek rested on his chest, hearing his heart race.

"I have feelings for you, too." he confessed, smiling into your hair. "Fuck the LAPD and their opinion. I have the sergeant exam in my pocket, if they want to punish us, I'll find another station, maybe I'll even go to the metro."

You couldn't help but laugh quietly at him, knowing he'd do it.

"Go out with me." he spoke, looking down at you, after you separated, his hands on your upper arms.

Smiling, you sniffed, face still tear stained. "I'd love to." you agreed, nodding to underline your words. He smiled back, before his hand wrapped around your shoulder, walking you towards your car.

"Are we still getting Mexican tonight?" he asked, a smirk playing at his lips. Rolling your eyes, you nodded with a grin.

"I'll get us a table." he told you, sending you a wink, as you gaped at him, stopping at your car. "I know the owner."

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile. "Okay." He nodded, smiling right back.

As Tim told you he'd pick you up in an hour, Grey smiled to himself.

He'd been watching your interaction through a window, secretly happy about your smiling faces, as his wife caught him stalking you two, hitting his arm in warning.

"Wade!"

<- Part two

Tag List

@laheysfilm

@newobsessionweekly

[poppy-metal]

thinking…. so deeply… about arranged marriage patrick……………. bro wants to take your virgin SO BAD like he’s fiendinf for it but he knows he hasn’t earnt it, knows he has to be good enough for you. he hates meeting with tashi. he feels awful because it’s not where he should be and wants to stop but you haven’t told him you want him to, and he’s just as scared of being hurt as he is of hurting you. you have a strange power over him, and he feels like if you were truly indifferent to him he would die, just stop living because it’s not worth it. youre the purest form of good he’s ever encountered. you could destroy him. so he meets with tashi, thinks about you, thinks about how nice he could make it for you, when he’s good and nice. thinks about how good he could make you feel, how he could make feel things you’ve never felt, how he could provide something valuable in your life for once. he finishes, and thinks about how angry tashi probably is with him, because he’s not fucking her with the insane passion he was before. she would break up with him soon, then he would be left with you. intimacy, emotion. all things he was not well equipped to deal with. but beneath his fear was a burning writhing love. he wants you so bad. he just has to make you trust him. he just has to be good.

YEAHHHHH

god he's so fucking dumb. he doesn't even really want to be seeing tashi anymore - he's just a social creature. the thing about patrick is he can't handle being alone - never could - reminds him too much of how things were growing up when he was little. alone in his big mansion, and he knows how fucking ridiculous that sounds - to mope and whine about being rich blah blah blah - but he had no one. his parents didn't pay attention to him, even his nanny's were distant and cold. when he got to boarding school and realized if he was funny and charming, people would flock to him and then he wouldn't be alone, he clung to that.

so he doesn't want tashi anymore - he's fallen out of love, this point - but she still wants his body. which is more than his own wife wants from him. he can't stand the thought of coming home to an empty bed, you've chosen to sleep in the guest room almost every night. he can't stand his own wife being indifferent to him and not wanting him back the ways he's starting to want her.

so he sticks to what he knows. he keeps seeing tashi as long as you continue to show him you don't care. because he needs to feel wanted - he's not proud of how pathetic that makes him, but it's the fact of the matter and it's not fixable.

he hates that he has a crush on his own fucking wife and he's floundering over it - and pulling on your pigtails hasn't been working. so maybe he's resorted to trying to make you jealous, he just wants you to fucking care. tell him to stop- tell him he should be in your bed - he should be making love to you every night and putting babies in you. he didn’t ever think he'd want to be a dad - the thought used to make him fucking sick - but when he thinks about getting you pregnant he doesn't hate it. he likes it. he wants it.

he thinks about being your first time and he knows he doesn't fucking deserve to be but he wants it so fucking bad - he wants to be inside you - wants you under him, and clinging to him and he wants to kiss you and feel your wedding band against his scalp when you run your hands through his hair. he wants to make you feel good - better than you've ever felt - he wants to put his mouth on you and taste you, knows he'd get drunk off it because of how dizzy he gets just thinking about it.

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/729110250731520000/you-know-what-i-think-would-be-cute-if-one-of-the?source=share

will u expand on this pls?? esp w simon i love it it's SO CUTE🥰

thank you so much babe :") <33 i just did simon but i can def do the others if you'd like 🤍

continuation from here

cw: abusive past + fluff

"look daddy! that's like you and mum!" her soft laugh of happiness fills his ears and for a minute he just watches her, the shock plastered on his face and then he takes a glance at the tv again. the toys he was placing away in its rightful place was forgotten as he straightened his back, watching the disney characters. they seemed so happy, so in love.

he stood still for a minute, wondering if she was being genuine as he looks back to the little girl who was giggling at him. he didn't have a healthy childhood at home and even as he entered his adult life, nothing but blood, guns and wars surrounded him.

it took him by surprised that lieutenant ghost, the man who knew little to nothing about love and happiness and peace now had a wife and a baby who was growing up in the homes he always wished he could live in as a child.

the only romantic love he could see around him was the abuse his father put his mother through, watching the light dim from her eyes everyday was a sight simon didn't think he could ever forget.

there were some scars that were seared so deep, even after time had run its course the pain was still fresh as ever. he didn't think he would ever heal from the shackles that wrapped themselves so deeply around him, burdens that he had to carry day in and day out in his life all the time. even though being with you had significantly lessened them, there were still moments that made him question everything he ever knew.

so being a father was scary but so exciting. the nerves were bundled up deep inside him, utterly worried that he wouldn't be able to love the child like they deserved. he remembered the night he paced your hospital floor while you were sleeping, full of the medications they were giving. all he could do was helplessly look at you, his heart pounding at the bundle of joy soon to be arriving. could he love them? or did the trauma from his father run incredibly deep that he'd cower away and hide? they were irrational fears, he knew that much. but it didn't help either way, he wanted to be the possible father ever. but how could he do that when he was do broken from his own?

and then his baby was born and he almost gave out, trembling when he held her tiny tiny body in one arm as the hand of the other ever so gently caressed her head. he looked at you with shock, his big brown eyes tearing as he chuckles softly. that was a sight you'd never forget. a sight he could never either

"me an' mama huh?" he spoke softly, his gaze going from the tv to back to his daughter who nods eagerly at him. she's so happy, its enough to make him emotional. because of him, she was safe and loved. because of him, a man who thought he was too damaged beyond repair, had a child who completely adored him and was living happily

she would never know a life full of abuse and suffering, he would make sure of that

he would kill for her, die for her and everything in between yet even so the small niggling voice of doubt filled his head every damn day wondering if he was cut out to be a father. would he change tomorrow, become the abusive intoxicated asshole like the man raised him was? he grew up in a world full of pain and torture and guns, happy things were far and few between.

"you little munchkin, c'mere" he teased softly, holding her in his massive arms as they both cuddle close together. she shrieks in delight when he blows soft raspberries on her cheeks and kissing her forehead. and he only looks at his baby with a look of pure unconditional love, his smile widening at every happy sound she made. even if he never got the love he deserved as a child, the love he received from you and the baby you both created was enough for him.

it was times like this, moments that he cherished so close to his heart <33

[pigcowboys]

About the confession fic.

PLEASE IM STARVING FOR IT.

Thank you.

Ps.( I need more percy headcanons from you they're so good LORD YOURE AMAZING).

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

summary: part 2 to this fic part 3

warning(s): blood, injuries, rough housing, cursing, SLIGHT jealousy, unresolved feelings whoops.. & mutual pining (they're just a little slow..)

a/n: HAHAH TYSMMM <33!! i wanna write more so badly but so much is going on with school i just haven't found the time.. :( (i have something in the works actually!!)

"are you okay?"

you jumped at the sound of grover's voice, waving his concerns off with a dismissive 'just fine'. and you were, for the most part at least. or as fine as you could be with the camp currently split in two on account of the disappearance of the young nico di angelo.

you weren't especially close with him - well, not as close as he would've been with his late sister. though, you had your fair share of moments with him.

while percy was away from camp on his quest with everyone else, you became to unofficial babysitter for the boy. taking on the role you assumed his sister had to play for him during the time they were together. and it was fun. you didn't have any siblings of your own so the thought of having your very own younger one just dropped at your feet was awesome to you.

well, it was till percy and the others came back and nico's seemingly never ending cheerfulness faded with the information of his sister's untimely death. it's things like that which reminded you of why being a half-blood was so dangerous.

she didn’t deserved to die that young - shit, nobody deserved to die that young..and in that way?

it's so..fucked.

"do you know when they said they'd be back?" you asked grover, turning to look at him since the first time you began to speak. he gave you an unsure shrug. "mm..soon? i'm not too sure," he turned to look past the camp entrance. " i wouldn't worry about it though, they'll be fine."

"you'd be surprised the amount of shit percy can get himself into.." you said to nobody at all. grover seemed put of by your uncharacteristic brooding. he spared you a glance before parting ways with you to do whatever it is he had to. you didn't want to do anything right now but sleep.

for whatever reason you'd taken it upon yourself to try your best to help out with every single thing you could around the camp, touring new comers, cleaning the pegasus stables - you even assisted the stoll brothers in cleaning the hermes cabin after someone (travis) had let a couple of gerbils loose in there as a prank.

it wasn't funny. you glared daggers at travis for weeks.

maybe you were trying to preoccupy yourself or maybe you genuinely felt like helping - you weren't sure. or maybe you just missed..something.. or maybe someone? you looked towards the front entrance.

yeah..you did.

you hadn't gotten any time to think about the weird interaction the two of you shared a few weeks ago yet, it was always fresh in your mind somehow. percy was so weird. it felt like since that day you'd started to see him less and less than before. could you believe it? this guy, someone you considered to be your best friend had been blowing you off!

what a dick.

worst part was the fact that whenever you did see him, he was almost always with annabeth. annabeth, annabeth, annabeth. i mean, they couldn't of even asked you if you wanted to hang out? why were they always together? always whispering to each other and avoiding eye contact when you'd meet their prodding gaze. it was so weird..

the last straw had to be when you'd overheard them talking one time. you didn't mean to eavesdrop, you just heard your name in passing and it instantly grabbed your attention.

"so..you're going to do it?" annabeth asked

"i guess."

"come on! don't be like that - you're going to scare her off if you're not passionate. about it"

"do girls..like passion?"

"obviously! you have to make her feel important." annabeth tutted. "you guys never get these kinds of things."

"you sound like one of the hunters.."

"hm?"

"nothing."

why were they talking about girls? did percy have his eye on someone? is that why he was avoiding you? he..liked someone and didn't want to tell you. but, he told annabeth about it.. and not you? you were offended - very offended. how dare he not share his feelings with you! the nerve of some people. it wasn't the fact he didn't tell you that hurt the most, it was the fact he'd told someone else before you. why was this the way you had to find that out? who else did percy tell..?

the idea of it all flooded your thoughts and refused to leave it for days after days. it might've been the real reason you were brooding so much. you stopped dead in your tracks as you looked over yonder. ares campers, and they seemed like they were preparing for something. your breath caught in your throat as they noticed you, a sneer forming onto their faces as they made a beheading motion, dragging their thumb across their neck in a threatening manner.

oh wow, capture the flag. your favorite.

"is too late to run back to my cabin?" you asked nervously, lacing your boots before standing up groggily. percy turned to look at you with a frown. "you gonna be okay?" you didn't spare him a glance, opting to fix your breastplate properly as you stared ahead.

"yeah, i guess." the corners of your lips curled as you made eye contact with another ares camper nearby who seemed to stare you down like a fresh piece of meat. your stomach turned as you clutched your shield tighter, exhaling shakily.

percy stared at you silently, looking forward at the line of campers then back to you. you turned to face him when you felt his hand brush against your own. he didn't react to your head turning, only leaning forward to grab your hand and hold it tightly.

you looked down at where your hands were clasped together then back to percy. he looked back you, a shaky smile making it's way onto his lips as he squeezed your hand tighter.

"for reassurance," he explained, lips tugging into a small smile. you nodded like you understood what he was doing, turning back to face in front as you tried your best to stay focused on not dying.

as so as the match started you were almost hit with an arrow, courtesy of the apollo campers, you concluded. your shoes scrapped the ground as you ran for cover, mud caking onto your shoes as your legs went as fast a they could.

you could hear yells and chants behind you as you dodged the botany of the forest, ducking down to hide behind a larger looking log as you waited for the opposing team to run past. your lungs hurt and you were pretty sure that arrow had just barely missed your face because there seemed to be a small slash on the side of your right cheek. as the sound of the footsteps grew farther and farther you moved out again, running past the log as you made your way to the East Woods.

A hushed whisper of your name caught your attention as you took notice of Annabeth who seemed to be trying to blend in with the surrounding woods.

"jeez, are you trying to get killed?" her eyebrows furrowed. "those ares campers are betting on this match." she rolled her eyes. "those brutes, you'd think they'd try to have some kind of sympathy for the people they hurt." she seemed to ramble on about something under her breath to which you did not hear nor care to even hear.

"where's percy?"

annabeth gave you a look. "i don't know," she looked to her right wearily. "i thought he was with you."

something in your stomach stirred. you'd just seen percy at the start of the match..what happened..? you frowned, moving from annabeth's hiding spot as you planted yourself onto the ground once more, equipping yourself with your weapon once more as you held it close to your chest.

"what do you think you're doing?" annabeth exclaimed. "you can't be out in the open like this, there's barely any cover. you'll be attacked."

"everywhere in this forest is the open."

"you know what i mean." annabeth sighed. "look, i've got a plan but, for to work we've gotta wait a little, okay?"

"what plan?"

"i can't tell you all of it right now." she frowned. "just follow my lead.."

you weren't too trusting of annabeth's plan yet you complied, following after her as she moved from her hiding spot, meticulously through the forest. she was quick on her feet and you tried your best to follow her example but it was harder to recreate with your mud ridden sneakers.

it happened quick, you barely registered the sound of a flurry of arrows being set off at you and annabeth, the two of you ducking out of the way as you took to your feet sloppily, running for your lives. your heart pounded as the sound of 4 different pairs of feet chased after you. annabeth panted harshly as she looked around in a flurry, grabbing your wrist as she made a sharp turn right into the weapon of an ares camper.

they raised their sword and swung down viciously without restraint. your shield was barely able to block the attack, swinging back as you put distance between the camper and annabeth. she seemed shaken up but still readied her weapon, steadying her helmet on her head.

you stared at the ares camper with furrowed eyebrows. "is it true you guys are betting on us..?"

he didn't reply, rushing forward to swing. your shield cushioned the blow yet the rather old material seemed to shatter slightly under the weight of the swing. what the hell did these campers eat?

you threw your shield to the side, backing away steadily as you steadied yourself. annabeth stepped forward as well, swinging at the camper with precision, trying her best to block the harsh slashes. you tried to catch your breath, bringing your hand to your chest as you raised up your head shakily.

you merely stepped forward for a minute when another camper rushed towards you, knocking into your body with full force as you flew to the side, slamming against the tree face first. your nerves could barely register the pain as your collapsed onto your side, falling right onto your right arm.

you cried out in pain, reach forward to clutch your arm as blood smeared against the sleeves of your clothes. you curled into yourself as your body grew heavier and heavier. you could remember the faint sound of yelling before you finally blacked out, losing consciousness.

you woke up gods knows how much later in the infirmary. your ears were ringing and your chest hurt. how long had you been in here? a few hours? a few days even? you looked around the room wearily, nobody else had been inside - it was practically empty. you tried to stand up but took notice of the fact your arm was bandaged.

what exactly happened..?

the door to the infirmary swung open, gaining your attention as your head snapped towards the figure that opened it. your eye widened slightly when you locked eyes with percy. he seemed surprised you were awake, his eyes glinting with a spark of concern.

"hey.."

"hey." you two said in unison. silence fell over the two of you as percy idled in front of your bed for a moment before pulling up a chair and placing it near your bed, sitting down on it as he gazed at you with worry.

"did you just wake up?" percy asked, trying to seem normal.

"sadly," you exhaled. "i would've liked to sleep a little longer."

"well, you were out for a while." percy said absentmindedly. "i - uh, we were kind of worried about you."

"thanks." you smiled slightly, raising your head to peer at what it was he was holding in your hands. "what's that?"

"ambrosia," percy replied, fishing out a small cube from the pouch. he held it towards your mouth, waving it around slightly as he waited for you to lean forward and bite it.

"you know i can feed myself, right?"

percy frowned. "why can't you just let me be nice?"

you didn't reply, shuffling forward as you opened your mouth, allowing percy to slip the treat into your mouth. your mouth swirled with the best flavor imaginable as you sunk into your bed with a sigh, turning your head to the side to gaze at percy who looked at you wearily.

"how long was out for?"

"pretty long, you broke your arm and a few other things when you fell," he tucked the pouch into his hoodie pocket. "those ares campers are so.."

"insane. can't believe they were betting on people's lives." your eyebrows furrowed. "isn't that fucked?"

percy hummed in response and the two of you grew quiet again. you stole a glance at percy taking notice of the slight eyebags on his face and the redness of his nose.

"annabeth told me everything," he paused. "i'm sorry i wasn't there."

you shrugged. "it was no big deal, i mean, i'm still alive, right?"

percy leaned forward in his chair, bringing his elbow to rest on the cover of your bed, bracing his head in his palm. "yeah but," he paused. "i don't know what i would've done if you didn't manage to bounce back." you stared at him quietly as he seemed to zone out.

"i don't know what i'd do with myself if you ever got hurt."

your eyes widened as you registered his words, your lips curling upwards. so, maybe he didn't hate you.. you sat up in your bed slowly, bracing against the pillow you were resting on as you turned your body towards percy.

"that's not gonna happen," you paused. "..again." percy smiled yet still looked slightly distressed about the whole situation. you reached out to cup his cheek, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you stretched them outward as far as you could.

"hey man, don't worry - i'm going to be fine, stop brooding now."

percy grunted rebuttals in response, exhaling when you finally released his face with a tired giggle, readjusting yourself to lay down on your bed as you settled in with a hum. percy rubbed his cheek soothingly, leaning forward to admire you.

you didn't register he was staring at you till you turned to your side and locked eyes with him, heart beating in your chest as the two of you stared at each other in silence. percy broke the eye contact, placing his hand on yours that laid still on the bed as he interlocked them.

you gave him a quizzical look as you squeezed his hand.

"it's for me." percy smiled sheepishly. "i wanna know that you're okay."

you didn't say anything only smiling to yourself as you closed your eyes, slowly fading out of consciousness as you dozed off clutching percy's hand.

[strwbmei]

summary: fucking march's fever out of her

contains: soft sex, friends to lovers at the end, fingering (character receiving), arguably dubcon since march is sick, sort of porn with plot?, virgin march, not proofread, maybe ooc

pairing(s): march 7th x gn!reader

a/n: i need to spoil her and take care of her and eat her out. thank you

"Cute girls can't get sick!"

Or so, were March's last words before diving straight onto the freezing snow of Belobog and proceeding to make snow angels. It had been a long time since the Express had the time to visit Jarilo VI, and while you understood her excitement, her decisions, as expected, did not end well for either of you.

A few days later, March is still sick and you're taking care of her while the other Nameless enjoy their visit to Belobog. "[Name]..." She called out to you with a whiny voice, her lips put into a pout. "Don't you think it's fine for me to go down to Belobog now? Look, I'm basically fully healed!" She sat up from her bed, doing air punches as if that would prove that her fever was gone.

"Pfft..." You snorted. "What are you even doing? And no, I'm not letting you go anywhere until your temperature is back to normal." You say sternly, sitting down next to her. "I'm sorry, March. I know you were really looking forward to visiting Belobog again, but your health comes first."

She slumps in defeat as she lays back down on her side, her back turned to you. "Fine... I enjoy spending time with you like this more, anyway." She mumbled, but due to how quiet her voice was, you only heard the first part. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing." March sighs, turning to face you with her rabbit stuffy clutched in her hands. "Hey, uh... I'm sorry you have to stay behind with me. I really wanted to show you my favorite spots in Belobog."

You tilt your head, resting the back of your hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. "You sure you're alright? You're being way too nice today." You tease. She pouts, playfully swatting your hand away. "Hey! And here I was trying to be considerate..."

You chuckle at her reaction. "Y'know, you're surprisingly pretty cute when you're sick."

"Well, for your information, I'm perfectly cute even when I'm not sick!" She retorts.

"Yeah, yeah."

In all seriousness, taking care of her wasn't an inconvenience to you in the slightest. She was surprisingly cooperative, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy how much more clingy and affectionate she is when she's sick. After all, you've had feelings for her for quite a while now... Her bubbly personality and her admittedly cute looks just seemed to draw you in more and more each day.

March speaks up after a few seconds of silence. "Can I ask you for a favor, [Name]?"

"What is it?" You tilt your head in curiosity.

"Can you... cuddle with me?"

"Hm." You raised an eyebrow. Honestly, you expected something more serious. Cuddling was almost routine to the two of you whenever you hung out, especially during sleepovers when March would cling to you in her sleep like you were a pillow. You never minded. In fact, you've grown to like it.

Not once did she ask first, though. "Why?" You ask with a grin, ready to play it off as a joke. You're not sure what you were expecting, since it was a stupid question in the first place. Cuddling wasn't out of the norm for you two, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was the type to find comfort in snuggling with somebody whenever she was sick.

"Because I miss your touch..." She says in a voice barely above a whisper, yet one that you could hear in her now silent room where it felt like nothing else mattered other than the two of you. "Oh." You gulp, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as soon as she says those words.

Meanwhile, March wants to dig herself into a hole and die. She wasn't supposed to say that out loud, and you were much less supposed to blush! She's surprisingly oblivious for someone so observant when it comes to you, so she never even considered the possibility that you might return her feelings...

However, you best believe she'll be putting out all of the stops if there is a chance that you do, in fact, like her back.

"You don't want to? Fine..." She pouts, and your train of thought is broken once she looks up at you with those eyes that you've always loved, oh so needily... "No- no, I mean, yeah, I'd... love to cuddle with you." You splurt out, stumbling all over your words.

Which is how you ended up in this situation: her body pressed up against yours in a way that isn't appropriate for friends. She might be sick, sure, but she's almost fully healed and there's no way she'd be doing this unintentionally... right?

After a few seconds of contemplation, you decide to speak up. "We shouldn't be doing this, March." You say, your voice soft and barely loud enough for her to hear. "Mm..." She pays no heed to your words, instead opting to wrap her arms around you even tighter if that were even possible.

You gulp. She understands what you mean, right? Maybe you're just reading too much into her actions? Your mouth moves faster than your brain can, and you speak without realizing it. "You're driving me insane."

"...If I'm such a bad influence, maybe you should put me in my place."

She whispers with an almost seductive tone that you've never heard her use before, and you have to take a second to process if you really heard her say that. She knows what she's doing. Has she always been this bold, or is this how she usually gets with everyone every time she's sick? God, you hope that it's just with you.

You roll over to position yourself on top of her, your arms now on either side of her head as the mattress dips under the two of you. "Are you sure that you want this?" She giggles at your question, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck and pulling you into a soft, yet hungry kiss as if she'd been ready for this her whole life.

"Be gentle, okay?" She smiles once she finally pulls away, the room devoid of any other sound other than your heavy breathing and a silence that spoke volumes of the unresolved feelings you had for each other. "Just let me take care of you." You mutter as you leave a trail of soft kisses along her jaw and collarbones, your hand reaching out for the waistband of her pink pajamas. "May I?"

She nods in response, turning her head to the side in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks. "Pfft... You really are adorable." You mumble to yourself as you pull her pants along with her panties down to her knees. Your fingers find themselves teasing her entrance, rubbing slow circles over her clit and occasionally collecting her slick.

"Mmpfh... I'm fine, [Name]. You can put it in now." As if sensing your worries that you were trying hard not to show, she spoke up. Although you've imagined this scenario multiple times before, you can't help but feel nervous. You want to make sure that her first time is as soft and as pleasurable as it can be.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay? Just relax." You say softly, carefully curling your index finger into her cunt and giving her a few seconds to adjust before pumping in and out at a slow pace. The small moans and whimpers she lets out are even better than you'd imagined. "A-ah... That feels good..."

As if on instinct, her hand reaches out for your free one; an act much too intimate for friends, but you indulge her nonetheless. Besides, the two of you have long since done things that most people would deem past the border of a platonic relationship. When did the line between friends and lovers start to blur?

"I've got you, pretty girl. I'm not going anywhere." You coo at her, the gentleness of your voice much in contrast to the quickening pace of your fingers.

Her eyes are fluttered shut. Her hair is sticking to her forehead. Her mouth is ever so slightly parted in an "o" shape. Truly, she is beautiful in every sense of the word. Beautiful like this; beautiful always. "Do you think you can take another finger, March?"

She nods almost too eagerly at your question. You slow down, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as you slowly insert a second finger and stretch her out even more. "That's it. You're doing so good, taking me so well..."

After a while, she starts grinding on your fingers, and you take that as a sign to go faster and give her more. The second you start rubbing and pressing down on her clit, she can feel herself nearing her orgasm. She looks up at you with doe eyes and squeezes your hand, and that's all it takes for the feelings you've been repressing all this time to break loose.

"I love you."

Before you can process what you said amid the sea of emotions you're feeling and apologize, she pulls you in for a kiss. Unlike before, this kiss is more tender and warm than lustful, as if she was trying to say that she loved you too. As if she had been waiting for you to say those words her whole life.

You swallow her moans and whimpers as she comes undone around your fingers, finally pulling away after what feels like an eternity. You wish that kiss would last an eternity. Hell, if it were up to you, that moment wouldn't end even after the seas had dried and there were no stars left in the vast skies that she loved so much.

Heavily breathing, you collapse beside her. "Uhm," You break the silence, albeit a little hesitantly. "I'm going to get you some water, and help wash you up if that's fine?" You're far too ashamed to look her in the eye after what you said.

She embraces you in her arms, and it's the safest you've felt your whole life. "Just a little bit more..." She nuzzles her head into your neck, inhaling your scent and holding you just a bit closer.

"I love you too, you big dummy."

╰┈➤ taglist ; @nbdaddykink , @roninraccoon , @sinsmockingbird , @fvrina , @commandercarbs , @sapphic-simp4015 , @truculentbantam , @vrachis , @dukemira , @arbiteriey , @krowbyss , @the-night-owl-blr

[m0nnypie]

A HARD LOSS

You were pregnant! But how would they react if you had a miscarriage? Would they comfort you?

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: angst, comfort, aged up characters, miscarriage, pregnant, pro hero!characters x reader.

- Out of the two of you, Izuku was the most excited. He did everything when you were pregnant. He pampered you, carried you around, did everything he could.

- As soon as he found out about the abortion, his world fell apart. He simply ran away, he just wanted to die. His first instinct was to go to his mother. Where he cried in her arms for hours. After crying a lot, he got a scolding from his mother for leaving you alone at that moment.

- Poor thing, he was so focused on his own suffering that he forgot that you were suffering too. He ran home as soon as your mother delivered some soup she had prepared for you.

- The house was silent. He wasn't used to this silence. Even your cat, who was always running around, was quiet now. As soon as he got to the room, he saw you with your back to the door.

- When he finally looked at your face, he saw nothing. He saw no emotion, even though he caressed your face, you didn't react. You didn't pull away, but the affection no longer seemed to be a source of comfort.

- For the rest of the day he did everything, fed you, brushed your teeth, bathed you and put you to bed. He could see how affected you were.

- You only got out of bed after Izuku called Uraraka, Mina, Jirou and Momo. And you didn't even do much, you were silent most of the time you spent with them.

- He decided that you should go to therapy. He knew that this wouldn't be easy to overcome, there would always be a scar deep in your hearts marking what happened. But he would do his best to always be by your side. And maybe, in the future, you would try again.

- It may not seem like it, but it was a horrible loss for him. Even though he always complained about every useless thing you bought, he wanted to be a father. And when he found out you were in the hospital, he was desperate.

- When he saw you, in that hospital bed, he almost collapsed. He saw you sleeping, calmly, as if nothing had happened.

- As soon as the doctors told him what happened, a part of him died. He just sat down and broke down, he cried silently.

- To the surprise of many, he ended up calling Deku to help. When Izuku arrived at the hospital, he didn't ask many questions, he went to your house to separate some clothes for you and Katsuki. And when he brought them, he ended up seeing the blond break down. He didn't know what it was like to lose a baby, but he did everything he could to be there for the blond, even if the support meant staying silent by his side.

- As soon as you woke up, his first instinct was to hug you. He didn't know how you would react, if you would cry, get angry, or throw things at him. But to his surprise, you didn't react. You didn't cry, you just looked at the doctor and said nothing.

- But for the rest of the time in the hospital, you barely ate. Katsuki even tried to get you to talk, but he realized that he wouldn't get anything out of you. Even when you got home, little changed, you stayed in bed most of the time. Luckily, you got time off work because of what happened, that made him less worried.

- He got tired of it after 1 week of you being home. He did everything he could to get you out of bed, he even tried to force you.

"(Name), get out of bed..."

No answers. This irritated him, you had lost the baby! Would you just stand there without reacting? Without saying anything??

"(Name), I won't say it again, get up!"

He spoke more angrily this time. He ended up pulling you by the arm to try to pull you out of bed. But all he heard was crying.

"LEAVE ME ALONE! IS IT SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND THAT I DON'T WANT TO TALK?!"

You screamed and turned your back to the blond. He was in shock, it was the first time in days that you had said anything. But instead of fighting, or anything else. He simply hugged you from behind. It didn't take long for him to feel you turn around and start crying on his chest. You stayed like that for hours.

- You hugged for hours. He did everything he could to make you feel comfortable, and he also apologized, obviously, for fighting with you.

I was going to do more, I swear. But my creativity died. So, hope y'all like it.

[httpsdana]

Can you write 136 with Jude please 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Heartbeat~Jude Bellingham

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

haven't wrote for Jude in a long time. I'm not gonna lie I can't look at him the same way because he plays for madrid. I mean I still love him but def not the same way

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

136-"Can you feel my heart beating that fast for you?"

"finally. we can relax for a while now" y/n said as soon as she stepped into her apartment with Jude in Madrid.

She was with him during the tour, flying alone because Jude was flying with his team, and sleeping in the same hotel as him. Her flight and Jude's arrived at the same time, so they went hone together

"that was one tiring tour" Jude said slamming the door behind him

"if you lost 3-0 to barça then it definitely is" she smirked, still rubbing it in his face

She was a die hard barça fan, and she couldn't deny the disappointment she felt when Jude told her he was joining the rival team, but she was still happy for him nevertheless and would support him all the way.

"it was because you were wearing a barca jerseyn it brought us bad luck" Jude replied, making her chuckle

"I don't think so. I just think we are the better team" she shrugged, making Jude smile

It was their way of joking. Making fun of each others teams, none of them would ever get mad at the other because of that.

"if you had the number 5 on your back, it would've motivated me so much and maybe I would've scored who knows" he pulled her closer, putting his arms around her waist

"I think the number 9 looked better on me no?" she teased, putting her arms around his neck

Of course she wasn't going to wear a Pedri or Gavi jersey and make her boyfriend jealous, so the Lewandowski jersey sounded good, plus he was one of the players she grew up watching

"nah the 5 would've been better" he leaned closer, pressing his lips on her forehead

"you're lucky I love you too much. or else I would've broke up with you long time ago" she joked, putting her head on his chest

Jude felt his heart skip a beat at her words. He still got nervous everytime she confessed her love to him, even though she has been doing it for a long time now

"Can you feel my heart beating that fast for you?" Jude said, as soon as she placed her head against his heart

"mhm you're cute" she mumbled, hearing his heartbeat speed up even more at her compliment

She smiled widely, looking up at him, watching his flustered face with his boyish grin. Something she loved about him was that he wouldn't hide the fact that he was blushing and was affected by her words

He leaned in, closing the distance between them by placing his lips on hers. A soft deep kiss that lasted a few seconds, before they pulled away and decided it was time to unpack their stuff.

[alavestineneas]

Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

-

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

-

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it.  The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

[helloalycia]

𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: Reaping Day is finally upon you and you know what you have to do, but there's only one problem: Lucy Gray wouldn't let you.

warning/s: again, the usual warnings that come with writing the Hunger Games stuff + potential suicidal themes.

author's note: this is the second and final part - i do hope you all like it. also i hope the person who requested it enjoys!!

one / masterlist / wattpad

Reaping Day was fast approaching, taking place next week, and I still wasn't sure what to do. I hadn't told Lucy Gray nor the Covey of Mayfair's plan, but it was killing me inside. After a lot of thought, I soon made a decision. The only thing I was certain about was that I couldn't allow Lucy Gray to have her life stolen away, not when mine was right there for the taking. So, I was going to take her place. As long as the Capitol had their tribute, they wouldn't care who it was.

But Lucy Gray would. She'd never allow it, never be so selfish as to let someone else volunteer to die for her. But I could never let her go up there to die, so with that in mind, I concocted the perfect plan to keep her alive.

The night before the reaping arrived, I'd managed to convince Lucy Gray to let me sleep over at hers, claiming I was worried and wanted to feel safe on an otherwise horrible evening. Of course, she fell for it instantly, only reminding me of how right I was to do this. She was too sweet for her own good, especially to me.

The rest of the Covey were in their rooms preparing for bed when I returned from the kitchen to Lucy Gray's room with two glasses of water.

"Here," I said, passing her the glass before taking a seat on my makeshift bed on the floor beside her actual bed.

"Thanks," she said, before taking a sip. She pulled a face and looked at her glass. "Does that taste weird to you?"

I sipped my own water and played dumb, shaking my head. "It's alright to me."

She furrowed her brows, "Huh," before downing the rest of it and putting it next to her bed.

I told myself that slipping some of my dad's crushed sleeping pills in her water was for her own good, that it needed to happen to keep her safe, but a small part of me still felt guilty for tricking her like this. I needed her to sleep in though, to miss the reaping, or at least miss the part where they call her name. After all, she couldn't stop me from volunteering if she wasn't there to witness it happen.

We both laid down in our beds, getting comfortable under our duvets. In the quiet of the evening, I could hear Tam Amber snoring from next door and smiled to myself at the familiarity. It would be the last I'd hear of it, ever.

"I don't have a good feelin' about tomorrow," Lucy Gray said quietly, earning my attention.

"Huh?"

She sounded cautious. "Something is tellin' me Mayfair has something' up her sleeve." I widened my eyes slightly, wondering if she knew what I did, but then she let out a deep, tired sigh and said, "I can't wait for it to be over."

I frowned to myself. "Me too."

She yawned, and I knew I didn't have long before she'd fall asleep, which meant I only had so much time left with her before I'd never speak to her again. That thought alone brought tears to my eyes.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm glad you've been my friend, Lucy Gray," I said honestly.

"Shut up," she said lightheartedly, an echo of a laugh present in her tired voice. "You're already sayin' goodbye and nothin' has happened."

"You never know," I said, glad that it was dark so she couldn't see me, because I wasn't sure I could say all this to her face. "Just listen, okay? I need you to know that I love you and I couldn't have asked for a better person in my life. Thank you for always being there for me. For caring."

"I love you, too," she said between a yawn, "more than you know, darlin'. And I'll tell you again tomorrow mornin', when we're still together. Idiot."

A smile formed on my lips at her teasing, but the tears slipped from my eyes because I was going to miss her so much, so much more than she would ever know.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, too, for bein' here right now," she said, though she was already slipping away, voice slowing down between each word.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Always."

She chuckled, or an attempt at a chuckle in her exhausted state. "I'll hold you to that," she said jokingly, before yawning again. "Mmm super tired. G'night..."

"Goodnight, Lucy Gray."

When I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes the next morning, I looked over at Lucy Gray and saw her fast asleep in bed. I tried to wake her, but she didn't budge, and I prayed that it would stay that away until the reaping was over.

Quickly getting ready, I could hear the others doing the same in the house. And then a succession of knocks was heard on Lucy Gray's door and Barb Azure poked her head in.

"Y/N, Lucy Gray, we've gotta–" she started, but stopped when she saw Lucy Gray still in bed. "For goodness sake, Lucy Gray, we're gonna be late! You've got–"

"I'll get her up and out of here, don't worry," I reassured Barb Azure with a nod and smile. "We'll meet you in the square."

Relieved, she nodded. "Okay, good. Good luck."

I smiled appreciatively before watching her leave, and then my smile faded and I focused on finishing getting ready. After pulling on my shoes and tying up my hair, I looked over at Lucy Gray who was still out like a light, unbothered by the noise or the daylight. She was lying on her side, duvet half covering her, and her curly hair sprawled across her pillow and in her eyes. I leaned down, moving the loose strand behind her ear, before taking in her appearance once more.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, not that it would have made a difference. "I love you, Lucy Gray, and I know you're gonna be angry and upset at first, but you'll get over it. You'll get over me. The Covey, they– they need you."

Swallowing hard and holding back my tears, sick of crying, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up and sucking up a deep breath. Pulling the duvet on her a little more, I forced myself to turn and leave, not wanting to linger any longer.

By the time I reached the square, everyone eligible for the reaping was already lined up in order of age. Just as I was about to join them, Barb Azure, who was nineteen and no longer to be considered, caught my gaze and sent me a questioning look.

'She's there', I mouthed, lying, and pointing to the lined up teens.

She didn't seem to understand, but it didn't matter because a Peacekeeper was already yelling orders at me, and then I was shoved into line and the mayor was telling everybody to quieten down. After his usual spiel about the importance of the Games, no doubt a script given to him from the Capitol, he began to dig his hand into a bag of slips with everyone's names on it. Yanking it out, he barely glanced at it before announcing what I feared.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird."

Murmurs flew around instantly, everyone looking around to find her, and I thanked my stars that she was safely asleep back home.

"Lucy Gray Baird," the mayor repeated, only intensifying the murmurs and leaving everyone confused. That was my chance.

Raising my hand, I said in the most confident voice I could muster, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Nobody knew what to do, but all eyes were on me, including the stupid cameras the Capitol brought with them, televising the whole thing. The mayor seemed surprised because it was absolute insanity that somebody would volunteer – why would you want to die?

The Peacekeepers took a moment to jump into action, eventually guiding me to the stage as they were supposed to. I passed Billy Taupe on the way, who was looking awfully guilty for someone who was once family to the Covey, and then I passed Mayfair, who was silently raging at the sight of her plans falling to pieces.

Once I stepped onstage and turned around, I caught sight of the Covey scattered in the crowd, between those that were potential tributes and those that were too old/young to take part. They seemed shocked, but I found Barb Azure's eyes and smiled a little, offering a reassuring nod. I hoped she would understand.

Lastly, my eyes found my father's, a struggle at first, considering he was tucked away at the back, forced to be present but not wanting to be. He seemed surprised at my volunteering and, for a split second, I thought he cared. But his actions remain still and I know it was probably just good riddance for him, nothing more.

I didn't expect anything less.

Only when I was on the train, being carted away to my death with the other twenty-three tributes, did I feel complete and utter relief for Lucy Gray. She was truly safe, free from the Games for another year at least, which was more than I could ask for. And maybe Mayfair would get over her vendetta by then, who knew?

Of course, now that the relief had settled in, it didn't take long for it to be replaced by concern because now I was in the Games. And I had no plan, no strategy, nothing.

After the Games...

I wasn't sure how I managed it, but I'd won. I'd really done the impossible, and barely a week later, I found myself on a train back to District Twelve with a little money and a broken arm, but otherwise alive.

Even though I'd expected to die, winning never really being an option, my survival instincts kept kicking in and I just kept getting lucky. And now here I was.

I could never forget what I'd witnessed during the Games, ever, and I wasn't sure if it was worth winning if it meant I would be haunted by all I'd experienced. But I couldn't argue with it because I was finally returning home and I didn't know what to think. It had only been a week, but I'd left a girl and was returning a murderer.

After the train pulled into the station, I was on my own and didn't even think about where my feet were taking me until I found myself walking through the Seam, back to my house. I was relieved to find my dad was at work, not in the mood to face him after all this time. I wasn't sure if anybody even knew I was alive, that I'd won, considering nobody here even had a working TV.

After all I'd endured in the Games, my father was the least of my worries. I refused to be pushed around by him anymore and knew I was going to leave as soon as I could. Even if it meant camping outside, living on the streets, I'd go. I'd figure something out, but for now, I was just lucky to be able to see my bedroom again.

As I sat on my lumpy bed and breathed a sigh of relief, I thought of the Covey, and then of Lucy Gray. Oh, how I'd missed her dearly. She was the only thought I'd had this past week, all of this being for her in the first place. I was just glad she hadn't had to endure everything I had. The guilt and shame of my actions to bring me where I was now was eating away at me, but I would have rather it been me than her.

I missed her, so so much. And I knew I couldn't wait any longer, so I immediately got up and headed straight for their house. It wasn't far from my own, though there's was much closer to the woods. When I approached, I saw Maude Ivory and Tam Amber sat outside, the former milking her goat and the latter planting some flowers. It was Maude Ivory who did a double take first, before she shouted my name and immediately ran up to me, startling me with an intense hug.

It had felt like forever since I'd had any human affection, and I couldn't help but return her hug with a relieved smile, missing her.

"I can't believe you're back!" she was saying, as the others soon began to join one by one, hugging me tightly.

"You really won!"

"We saw you on the TV one night, we were so scared."

"Thank you for volunteerin', you saved our Lucy Gray's life."

I could barely keep up with their compliments, unsure how to respond, but touched that they cared enough to be here.

And then I saw Lucy Gray, finally, as she walked out from the back door of the house, mouth agape when she noticed me. My eyebrows raised a little, hopeful, upon seeing her again. It hadn't been long, and yet it had felt like forever since I'd last seen her.

Barb Azure began to motion to the others to follow her back inside. "Let's give them some space, everyone."

They began to leave, doing just that, and without their presence, I suddenly felt exposed before Lucy Gray. I straightened up, trying to look a little more presentable, but acutely self conscious of my black eye, scarred lip and broken arm.

"Hey," I said, embarassed at how quiet it came out.

She stopped before me, watching me like I was a ghost. "You're really here."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't think I would be, but somehow, I won."

But it wasn't somehow, was it? I knew what I did to win.

She suddenly frowned, looking betrayed. "You drugged me."

Realising she was upset, I said, "It was only a sleeping pill."

Her stare hardened. "You knew. You knew it was going to be my name."

I cowered away slightly, saying, "I overheard–"

"You lied to me," she cut me off, "drugged me, volunteered like a fool and–"

"It couldn't be you," I told her sternly. "You're needed here. They need you and I couldn't let you be chosen because of some silly feud, not when I found out. It had to be me. Nobody would miss me and–"

"I would!" she shouted, and I realised her eyes were full of tears as she glared at me. "You asshole, I would! I did! I needed you! You don't get to trick me and make that choice for me and just leave!"

I felt horribly guilty as she spoke, but deep down, I didn't regret my actions.

"Lucy Gray, you would've gotten over me," I said calmly, looking between her eyes. "You would've."

She narrowed her eyes with a glare. "Fuck you."

"Lucy–"

"No, fuck you!" she yelled, shoving me backwards. "You don't get to say that! Like you know how I feel about you!"

I pressed my lips together, feeling my heart ache as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Fuck you," she murmured, before turning around and storming away, past the house and towards the meadow.

I frowned, watching her leave and feeling immense guilt pressing on my chest. I'd never seen her so upset, not in all the time I'd known her, and knowing I was the reason for it only made this whole thing worse.

Barb Azure left the house and approached me with an apologetic frown on her lips.

"I heard what happened," she said sympathetically. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"We're all grateful for what you did," she said. "She is, too. A small part. But mostly, she's upset because she grieved you. Tried to, at least. She thought you were dead."

"I was supposed to be, if it helps," I mumbled. "I didn't think I'd be coming back here, facing her like this."

It was supposed to be a faceless goodbye. She wasn't supposed to see me again, nor I her. Now, I'd only made things worse.

"She missed you so much," Barb Azure told me knowingly. "She's angry and stubborn, but she missed you, Y/N. Go to her."

I looked up, seeing the encouraging smile on her lips, and figured if anyone knew Lucy Gray more than she did, it was her family. So, with that slight positivity in mind, I followed in the direction of Lucy Gray with hope to fix this. It didn't take long for me to find her in the meadow, sat by her favourite tree and hunched over, crying into her hands.

I tried to approach quietly, but she noticed and suddenly stood up, turning around to glare at me through her tears.

"What do you want? Go away!" she ordered.

I ignored her, taking a step forward, and she only yelled at me more.

"I said go away! I don't wanna speak to you right now!"

Again, I ignored her and continued to approach her.

"Leave me alone, you asshole! I said leave!"

I hugged her before she could protest even more, my good arm tightening around her shoulders desperately, and then she finally stopped shouting and hugged me back just as tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill because I never thought I'd see her again, let alone hug her like my life depended on it.

"I'm sorry," I said into her shoulder. "I'm sorry a million times over, Lucy Gray. I never wanted to hurt you, but I don't regret what I did. I'd volunteer every single time."

She gripped my shirt in response, but didn't say anything. I swallowed hard before pulling away reluctantly, meeting her eyes with regret.

"I'm a fool, I know," I agreed with her words from before. "I'm sorry."

Her lip quivered as her eyes darted around my face, taking it in, fixating on the bruise and my scarred lip. She lifted her hand, touching my cheek tenderly, and my breath was caught in my throat at the attention.

"It weren't supposed to be you," she whispered with a broken voice.

"Nor you," I reminded her. "Mayfair cheated."

She shook her head, frowning and meeting my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't get involved, Y/N."

I exhaled through my nose, a sad smile on my lips. "I couldn't help it."

She didn't say anything, simply stared at me, and then she took a seat on the log next to the tree and I joined her, unsure what to do or say.

"I can't believe you're here," she admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her eyes flickered between mine thoughtfully, before lowering to my broken arm in a sling. "How did it happen?"

I looked down at it, hesitating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said quickly, regretfully, but I shook my head.

"No, it's–" I paused, frowning shamefully. "It's how I won."

She grabbed my hand suddenly, making me look up at her.

"You don't have to tell me," she reassured with a nod.

I looked down at her hand on mine, nerves creeping in. "You wanna know, but... you won't look at me the same. And I don't want to lose you."

"Whatever you did in that arena isn't a reflection of who you are," she said with such a determination that I almost believed her. "It was life or death. And if it meant you're here now, alive, then I don't care."

I closed my eyes, nodding. "You're right. I– you're right."

She was patient, to my relief, and it took a moment for me to find my words.

"I'd spent most of the Games hiding," I began to tell her, comforted by the warmth of her hand in mine. "I avoided confrontation where I could, but one kid, he– he cornered me and had a knife. Managed to cut my lip... I disarmed him and ran with it. Used it to defend myself, injuring whoever got in my way, but never killing. I couldn't– I couldn't do that..."

...I was running, one of the others having found me in the tunnels and chasing me out into the open where they could no doubt kill me with ease. My lungs were screaming for air, burning with each step I took, but I kept pushing myself until I was in the stands. The other tribute followed me though, carrying a spear and swinging it my way.

I avoided each swing, knife in hand but myself unable to do anything with it, not without getting in close. And then they swung again, making me dodge, and slammed the blunt end of their spear into my back, pushing me over the edge of the stands and to the ground below with a loud crack. I would have a screamed at the unbearable pain from my arm, but I'd slammed my head onto the ground, leaving me dazed.

My vision was spinning and my arm was throbbing and I didn't know what was what, but then I heard someone's feet land behind me and I knew I had to play dead, my last chance at surviving. Through one open eye, I could see footsteps approaching, but also the glint of my knife which had dropped beside me during the fall. I stayed still, practically holding my breath as the other tribute leaned down to check if I was alive. And before they could try to turn me over, I grabbed the knife and stabbed the first thing I could touch.

Only when I heard the sounds of gurgling did I look to see what I'd done. My knife was lodged into their neck, their pleading eyes begging mine as I scrambled back out of fear, watching them die a slow and painful death without meaning to. I was certain I could never un-hear those noises, or un-see their death...

Tears wet my face when I finished telling Lucy Gray the story, and I was trembling slightly as the memories flashed in my head.

"I didn't want to," I told her, shaking my head guiltily. "I didn't. But it was the only way. The only way to be done. I– I'm not a murderer. I'm not. I'm–"

She pulled me in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "It's okay. It's okay, Y/N."

I cried into her shoulder, but it didn't make me feel any better. I'd murdered someone, and now I'd live with the reminder forever.

"You did what you had to do," she tried to console me, but I knew it wasn't entirely true.

It wasn't over, not really. I'd see their faces everywhere, forever.

"I wish you didn't have to do that," she said after a moment, pulling away but holding my hand between hers. "And I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking my place, even though I didn't want you to. You saved my life. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of your own."

She kissed my cheek before hugging me again, sighing contently.

"By the way, if you ever try to tell me how I feel, I'll kill you myself," she muttered into my shoulder. "I'm not losing you, ever."

I stayed quiet, wrapping my arm around her instead. I knew I'd do this all again if it meant she was safe. But she wouldn't understand.

By the time word spread about my 'triumph' in the Games and return to District Twelve, I'd already moved out of my dad's place. He barely uttered a word to me, neither did he try stopping me. I wasn't sure if it was because he knew what I was capable of, or if he'd just been waiting for me to leave, but it was easier than I'd imagined.

My only choices were being homeless, moving into the community home full of kids with no parents or staying with the Covey. Naturally, it was easy to choose the latter, especially when Lucy Gray insisted I stayed with them.

It was easy at first, easier than I expected, to make myself at home and try to continue my life as it once was before the Games. I went back to work as soon as possible, even with one arm broken, did as many shifts as I could before the summer ended and I'd be back at school with less time to make money and afford food. I accompanied the Covey to the Hob, helping them prepare for their sets and encouraging people to donate money for their performances. It was almost normal.

But at night, that was when I couldn't seem to escape the true reality of what I'd been through. I'd fall asleep, no problem, and then my nightmares would feature different versions of the Games, bloody kills of the other tributes, the knot of fear in my chest expanding until I woke up in cold sweats and with wet eyes.

I couldn't tell anybody, especially not the Covey or Lucy Gray. I couldn't be a burden to them, not after all they'd done for me, but it was getting unbearable. The faces, they wouldn't stop haunting me. And the scar on my lip that wasn't fading only seemed to serve as a permanent reminder, frightening me because maybe I would never escape it. Maybe I'd suffer forever, a consequence of winning.

It happened again, tonight, and I woke with a start, eyes shooting open and mistaking the shadow on the ceiling for a predator in the dark. It took me a moment to remember where I was, what was real. Lucy Gray's bedroom. I was in the bed they'd set up for me, opposite hers, and the curtains were drawn, casting a ghastly blue glow around the room.

Wiping my eyes, I moved my legs over the side of the bed and glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was sound asleep. I was careful not to wake her as I slipped into some shoes and left the room, practicing the same caution as I left the house completely and sat outside on the garden furniture. The fresh air did much better to wake me up, reminding me where I was, and I simply sat there under the dark sky, trying to collect myself.

It was always the same. Some nights were worse than others, like tonight, where I'd be forced to step outside for some fresh. Other nights I could just brush it off and force myself to sleep. Would it ever get better?

I wasn't sure how long passed, but I heard the back door of the house opening and turned around, ready to apologise to whoever I'd woken. To my surprise, it was Lucy Gray.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," I said quickly, straightening up. "I can go back in. I–"

"Stop," she said softly, before taking a seat on the chair next to me, eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed thickly, unable to hold her stare.

"I've tried to give you space," she said, the fatigue laced in her voice. "Since you've been here. I've seen you leave in the middle of the night... I'm worried, Y/N. Talk to me. Please."

Embarrassed I'd been caught out, I tried to reassure her. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

She scoffed quietly. "Are we not close enough that you shouldn't lie to me?"

I glanced at her, sighing when I saw the worry looking back at me.

"It's the Games, isn't it?" she asked carefully. "You're dreamin' of them."

I didn't trust my voice, so I could only nod weakly. She tensed her jaw slightly before moving her chair closer to me and pulling me in for a side hug. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she squeezed comfortingly, and I melted under her touch.

"Wake me when it happens," she encouraged. "It's not nice bein' alone when you've just had a nightmare."

"I'm not doing that," I started, a million reasons on the tip of my tongue for why I wouldn't subject her to that, but she cut me off pleadingly.

"Please. It'll make me feel better, knowin' I can at least be with you. Knowin' you're not alone. That I can help."

I didn't reply, unsure I could agree when I knew I just couldn't do it.

"I'm gonna push the beds together if you don't," she added, lightheartedly but with a touch of concern still present.

Nonetheless, it brought a smile to my lips and I exhaled sharply through my nose, a sad attempt at a laugh. "Okay."

She squeezed my shoulder in response and then straightened up, offering me a tired smile. "Come on."

"What?"

"You're not goin' back to sleep, clearly, so let's go," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

"Go where?" I asked, though let her lead me out of the garden.

"The lake, duh."

I didn't fight it and let her tug me along, walking down to the lake. It was quiet out, especially between us, and the mindless task of walking through the woods with her hand in mine gave me something else to focus on other than my nightmares.

When we reached the lake, we took a seat at the edge of the dock again, just like last time.

"No midnight swims, please," I warned her playfully, and she laughed quietly.

"I promise," she muttered, before looking out at the water.

My eyes took in her profile for a moment, following the slope of her nose, the point of her cupid's bow, the curve of her lips... even in the dark, with only a minuscule of moonlight casting shadows across her face, she was stunning. I wondered if she knew the effect she could have on me just by being here.

"Thank you," I said, unable to keep my gratitude in for much longer. "For everything."

She rolled her eyes playfully, continuing to look ahead. "Oh, shut up."

I furrowed my brows. "Huh?"

She gave me a disapproving glance. "After all that's happened, you don't need to thank me."

"I do," I said simply, and she rolled her eyes again.

"Seriously, shut up before I make you."

Knowing I wouldn't win this one, I exhaled softly and looked away, eyes subconsciously tracing the shimmers of light in the still water.

"Why did you do it?" Lucy Gray suddenly asked, playfulness gone.

"What?"

She paused. I wasn't sure she'd continue, and then she said, "Volunteer." I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off, adding, "And don't say it's because nobody would miss you. You knew that I would have. So, why?"

I pressed my lips together firmly, suddenly feeling warm. It was such an easy question, with an even easier answer. But I couldn't bring myself to say it for the same reason I'd never told her. I was a coward. But didn't she deserve to know the truth? Didn't I deserve to finally come clean? To lift this weight from my shoulders?

My heart was thumping ever so loudly for the girl next to me. I'd faced life or death situations, surely I could do this.

"Y/N?" she prompted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips, gaze focused on the darkness ahead. "I'm in love with you."

The silence was deafening, unlike before when it was welcomed. Not even a gasp or a slight movement from beside me betrayed her reaction, her surprise. I was too paralysed with fear of rejection to look at her. Instead, I stayed put, certain I'd be stuck there in that moment forever, never hearing a response. But then finally:

"I thought that was it. I just had to hear you say it."

My jaw tensed as I digested her words, eyes still fixated on the water. She knew? This whole time, she knew?

"I love you too," she murmured, and in my peripheral, I could see her staring ahead also. "That's why I hated that you did it."

Unable to act cowardly any longer, I forced myself to look to her. She did the same, knocking the breath from me when her dark eyes met mine. It was horribly intimidating, even though she was doing nothing different. Except now she knew. She finally knew. And I knew that she knew. And that was different enough to terrify me.

"Never again," she muttered. "You have to promise me and actually keep it."

And just like that, I was reminded why I'd volunteered in the first place. Coward or not, it was only ever for her.

"I can't," I admitted.

She scrunched her face with hurt. "And why not?"

I grimaced. "I just told you why."

A frown appeared on her lips, jaw clenching in annoyance. Her eyes flickered between mine defiantly, and I knew I was upsetting her again.

"I'm sorry," I said, tilting my head.

"I hate you," she said lowly.

I shook my head, holding her intense gaze. "Not according to what you just said."

Her lips curled inwards, frustrated, and after one last glance, she leaned forward and kissed me hard. My eyes fluttered close as she caressed my cheek, holding me close. I slipped my uninjured arm around her waist, revelling in her warmth and the softness of her lips. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. The only kiss, yes, but one I'd never want to compete with.

When we pulled apart, her hand was still on my cheek, and mine still on her waist, and I worried that if I opened my eyes, something would go wrong. That this would all be a dream.

"You should've told me sooner," she murmured, lips ghosting mine.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, instantly submerged in hers. "Not everyone can speak their mind as confidently as you can, Lucy Gray."

She licked her lips, drawing my gaze to them yet again. "I can't always. Clearly."

I looked down, shaking my head slightly. "I couldn't."

Her thumb stroked my cheek tenderly. "Not even after? When you came home?"

It was hilarious, how easy she made it all sound. I raised an eyebrow at her, trying not to smile. "You don't know how you make me feel, do you?" Her expression softened, and I continued, "Imagine standing on the edge of a cliff. Then jumping off."

"Scared?" she asked, growing worried, but I shook my head.

"Free," I corrected, growing warm at my honesty, it coming way too easily for once. "And that in itself is scary, isn't it? But scary in a good way. I– I've never felt like that before."

She exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're not so bad at speaking your mind, it seems."

I breathed out through my nose, mirroring her smile. Her thumb outlined my lips lightly, tracing my scar, and then resting on my cheek again. She was thoughtful, eyes staring at my face, but distant.

"That feeling you described," she started, voice smooth and comforting, "it goes both ways."

I wondered how it could. I'd never imagined myself giving her a similar comfort, nor her feeling so strongly about me as I did with her. But then she kissed me again, and I didn't need to think about it anymore.

[kira-broflovski]

I Can Trust You || Kyle Broflovski x Reader

NOTE: characters are 18 in this fic :)

summary: you get so drunk that you start confusing people for others... so you may have accidentally confessed your feelings to the wrong person

"Kyle, you awake man?" Kenny's relieved voice rang out from Kyle's phone.

"Am now." He grimaced. "What's up?"

Nobody really calls anyone in the group unless it's important, so he didn't hold it against Kenny. However, he was tired so he was a little pissed that his sleep was interrupted.

"Dude-" Kenny cut himself off to laugh. "You gotta come get your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? You mean Y/N?" Kyle felt his face get warmer.

"Yeah."

"For fuck sake," he muttered. "She's not my girlfriend."

"But you knew who I meant."

Kyle could hear the smug grin on Kenny's face. "Whatever, man."

"Seriously, though." Kenny continued. "You gotta come get her, you do care about her right?"

"Of course I do!" Kyle shouted, already getting out of bed and preparing to bring you back, which wasn't that hard considering you practically lived at his apartment.

"Then get your ass down here and get her!" Kenny hung up the phone before any further debate.

How bad could it really be? It was only you, and it's not like you and Kenny weren't friends. Surely he was just being dramatic. Right?

He had sent a text to Kyle to let him know he was at the front of the house with you, so he didn't have to waste time trying to find you. Why did he want you to go home so badly?

As soon as he pulled up, Kyle heard the relieved yell from Kenny and drunken laughs from you.

This was certainly an interesting sight.

"Don't get jealous now, she did this by herself." Kenny put his hands up in defence while you were practically hanging off him with your head buried in his shoulder. "I mean, she thinks I'm you."

The jealous rage Kyle was feeling started to die down after what Kenny just commented. "What?"

"I'm serious! All night, she's been flirting with me because she thinks I'm you!"

"It's cuz you're so cute, Kyle!" Your words were slurred, truly showcasing just how drunk you were.

"Hey, the real Kyle is here to take you home, Y/N." Kenny whispered gently and slowly turned you around to look at Kyle.

"Hi, Kenny!" You greeted as you fell into Kyle's arms.

"See what I mean?"

"Alright, Y/N." Kyle put one of your arms over his shoulder, which he held with one hand, while his other arm snaked around your waist so he could make sure you wouldn't fall over on the way to the car. "Let's get you home."

He carefully opened the passenger-side door, sat you down, and buckled your seatbelt before getting into the driver side.

"I feel like a child," you giggled as your head rested against the cool window.

"Mentally, you are a child." Kyle snorted.

"Fuck you, I'm not a child!" You exclaimed, only making the driver laugh more. "If I was a child, could I do this?"

He panicked for a second, thinking you were going to do something that endangered both of your lives, especially if you messed with him. If he crashed the car while you were in it, he'd never forgive himself. Even if it was a result of your drunken state.

However, he calmed down when he heard your head thud against the window again and your light snoring. You had finally crashed after all that alcohol in your system.

You woke up when you arrived at his apartment block, but at the time you had no idea. Kyle, who you still thought was Kenny, had picked you up bridal style so he was easily able to get you out the car and into his apartment. He brought you into the guest bedroom you practically owned.

"Let's get your shoes off, then you can sleep for as long as you like." Kyle bent down at the foot of the bed, while you sat in front of him on the bed.

"Kenny, I trust you with my life." You flopped backwards onto the bed as your feet were still hanging off the edge.

"I'm not Kenny, I'm Kyle." You could just about feel his attempt to get your uncomfortable shoes off.

"Speaking of Kyle," you began.

He felt his heart miss a beat. He didn't know what to do. Guilt started to weigh on his shoulders: he wanted to distract you so you would forget about what you're going to say, it was Kenny that was supposed to be hearing this, not him! On the other hand, he wanted to know so desperately what you were going to say about him, especially as if he wasn't right there in front of you.

"Uh, what about him, Y/N?" He finally spat out, nerves getting the better of him.

"I know you keep saying I should ask, but I'm scared to." Despite your current state, there was something about your sudden sad tone that told him you were being genuine. Where is this sadness coming from?

He hesitated before questioning further, "ask him what?"

"Ask him out, dumbass!" You exclaimed before grabbing the nearest pillow and covering your face.

"What?" Kyle stopped in his tracks. Were you being serious?

"Kenny, please. We've been through this!" Thankfully, your shout was muffled by the pillow.

He stood up after finally getting your shoes off, and you immediately curled up to the pillow for comfort, so he sat on the edge of the bed next to you.

Deciding he needed to know, he pried further. "What's stopping you?"

"He probably doesn't see me like that." You mumbled dejectedly. Oh how wrong you were.

"Hey, how about we talk about this tomorrow, y'know, when you're sober?"

"Mhm," you mumbled while Kyle threw the blanket over you. He didn't want you to freeze tonight, not after your accidental confession. "Thanks, Kenny."

"I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Y/N."

[babygirl-diaz]

Tattooed Golden Retriever

This is once again dedicated to @sarastars who gave me the idea for the fic.

Considering what's going on in the show right now, it kinda hurt writing this.

Summary: 5 Times Eddie scratches Buck's head and he falls asleep + 1 time he doesn't and Eddie kisses him.

***

i. Eddie was busy reading a spy novel on the couch when he felt something heavy on his lap. He looked down to see Buck smiling up at him.

"Uh... Hello?" Eddie chuckled, and his hand automatically moved into Buck's hair.

"Mmmm... Read to me," Buck mumbled and made himself comfortable, practically nuzzling Eddie's thigh like a cat, making him feel all sorts of things that he refused to acknowledge. "Also, give me head scratches."

"If I do that, you're gonna fall asleep, Buck, and Bobby will not be happy," Eddie told him but absentmindedly scratched his head.

"I don't care," Buck replied and made happy noises as Eddie continued to scratch his head. "Now read to meeeeee..." He whined and bumped his nose against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie sighed and started reading. "The rain slashed across the grimy windows of the safe house, mirroring the tension that thrummed through Anya Petrova's veins. She clutched the burner phone, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the freshly brewed cup of tea in her other hand. The voice on the other end of the line crackled with static, but Anya recognized it instantly. It was her handler-" Eddied stopped when he heard snoring and looked down to see that Buck had fallen asleep.

"He's like a goddamn puppy," Chimney commented as he sat down on the armchair with his bowl of fruit.

"More like a tattooed golden retriever," Eddie said fondly and smiled at a sleeping Buck as he continued to gently run his fingers through his curls.

"Mmmhmm..." Chimney hummed

Eddie looked up to find his coworker and friend giving him a knowing look before going back to his fruit bowl.

***

ii. It was the end of a very long shift and Eddie was getting ready to go home when Buck sat down beside him on the locker room bench with a heavy sigh. He put his head on Eddie's shoulder and let out another sigh. "'m tired," Buck complained.

Eddie lifted his hand to scratch Buck's head, who made a delighted sound.

"Yeah, I'm tired too," Eddie replied, yawning. "We all are. It was a long-ass shift."

Eddie kept scratching Buck's head and soon heard soft snoring. "Buck?" He called out but got no response in return.

"No," Eddie mumbled. He knew he wouldn't be able to move until Buck woke up. Because Eddie would rather die than wake him up. So he instead kept scratching his head and put his own head down on top of Buck's, closing his eyes.

***

iii. The next time it happened, they were at a BBQ at Bobby and Athena's place. Eddie sat on the floor talking to Karen and Hen while eating his lunch when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked over to find Buck smiling at him like a goof. "What?" He asked.

"I need head scratches," Buck replied like a little child.

Eddie blushed a little and looked at Hen and Karen to find them giving him an amused look.

Buck removed the empty plate from Eddie's lap and put it on the coffee table before putting his head down instead. "Head scratches! " He demanded.

Eddie rolled his eyes and started scratching Buck's head, letting his blunt fingernails move through the curls in slow motion.

He went back to talking to Hen and Karen like this was the most normal thing in the world. They looked a little confused before continuing the conversation.

Soon Buck fell asleep on Eddie's lap and Eddie gave him a fond glance.

"What?" He asked when he found Hen and Karen giving him a knowing look, similar to the one Chimney had given him a couple weeks ago.

"Nothing," Karen replied with a shrug. "You two are so comfortable with each other."

"We've been friends for 8 years," Eddie replied. He couldn't believe his own ears as he said that.

"You ever thought of having something more with him?"

Eddie was taken aback by Karen's question and saw Hen bumping her shoulder against her wife's, and shaking her head.

Eddie blushed once again and shook his head. "We're just meant to be friends."

"Of course," Karen replied with a smirk.

***

iv. During one of their calls, the 118 ended up saving a puppy that was only a few months old. The golden retriever was adorable, and Eddie loved dogs, so he took charge of the dog while they waited for her family to come and take her. She followed Eddie around everywhere and Eddie fed her food that Bobby made for her and also sneakily fed her some from his plate. After dinner, Sheena, as her name tag had suggested her name was decided she wanted to play. Eddie found a ball in the lost-and-found box and threw it for her, which she went and caught and brought back to him. Then she started giving him kisses, making him laugh and roll around on the floor of the fire station loft.

"Sheena, stop!" Eddie laughed and grabbed her face, giving her kisses in return.

She put her chin down on Eddie's knee when she finished playing and Eddie immediately knew what she wanted. He chuckled and started scratching her head and behind her ear. As he kept doing that, Sheena soon fell asleep with her chin on Eddie's lap.

Eddie heard someone clear their throat and looked up from the floor to see Buck pouting at him. "What's wrong?" Eddie asked worriedly.

"She's taking my place," Buck huffed and sat down beside Eddie.

"She's a three-month-old puppy, Buck," Eddie reminded him.

"I don't care. The head scratches are mine," Buck said possessively and lay down on the floor, putting his head on Eddie's other thigh.

"Buck, what are you doing?" Eddie laughed. "Come on, get up."

"Give me head scratches!" Buck demanded, like he always did.

"Buck, everyone is looking," Eddie told him but moved his other hand into Buck's hair, anyway.

"I don't care. No one is taking my head scratches away from me," Buck adamantly told him.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through Buck's scalp, scratching it gently.

Just as always, Buck was soon asleep.

"Eddie, the Smith family are he-" Bobby stopped mid-sentence and raised his eyebrows.

"Do you mind taking Sheena? I can't get up," Eddie told him.

Bobby sighed and nodded, "Okay." He went to pick up Sheena, who woke up and started squirming.

Eddie gave her a sad look and let her give him kisses again. He gave her kisses too and then watched sadly as Bobby carried her away.

***

v. Buck, Eddie, and Christopher were playing video games at Buck's loft with Eddie sitting in between Buck and Christopher. Buck and Eddie were playing against each other and Christopher was cheering them on, taking Buck's side this time. Eddie ended up winning and high-fived himself while Buck and Christopher booed him. But then Buck put his head on Eddie's shoulder and yawned. "Head scratches," he demanded as always.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "Such a child," he teased and started scratching Buck's head at an awkward angle.

He looked at Christopher to find him giving them a confused look.

"It's a new thing with him, where he wants head scratches and then falls asleep," Eddie explained.

Christopher grinned and put his head down on Eddie's other shoulder. "Head scratches," he demanded as well.

To say that Eddie was surprised would be an understatement. He never expected his 16-year-old son to demand head scratches from him but he'd be damned if he denied the request. Some part of his brain said, "Like father, like son," but he ignored it.

Smiling widely, he started running his fingers through Christopher's curls as well.

Soon both Buck and Christopher were fast asleep while Eddie stayed wide awake between them, happily giving them head scratches.

***

i. Eddie was trying to finish the novel on his bed while Buck and Christopher played games in the living room. It was summer vacation so Eddie let Christopher stay up late, but in the end, it looked like it was Buck who was exhausted. These days, he slept in Eddie's room when he stayed over because something had shifted in their relationship. Eddie wasn't sure what though. So when Buck came into the room, Eddie looked up from his book and smiled. "You good?" He asked.

Buck fell face-first into Eddie's lap. "I'm tired," he mumbled.

"And you want head scratches?" Eddie asked, chuckling.

Buck turned around and put his head on Eddie's lap before nodding, "Love how you know me so well."

Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair and Buck yawned but smiled goofily up at Eddie instead of sleeping like usual. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful, though.

"C-can I kiss you?" The words were out of Eddie's mouth before he could stop himself and he nervously bit down on his bottom lip.

"Thought you'd never ask," Buck replied, smirking.

Eddie leaned down and captured Buck's lips in a gentle, chaste kiss.

When he pulled away, Buck looked at him with a pout. "What was that? I expected more from you!"

Buck sat up on his knees and pulled Eddie close, kissing him hard. Eddie let out a choked sound in the kiss, which Buck swallowed. In his two years dating men, Eddie had never been kissed like this.