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runningfrom2am · 8 months

Text

in this life or the next

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

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

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

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

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

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

"And..?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay." You agree quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, I'll do that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And handsome, don't you think?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Four, three, two...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Were you right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then I say we try it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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chrollohearttags · 28 days

Note

Requests open? You don't know what you unleashed

It's that time of the month and I've been craving reiner like a mf (side note is it just me or do you crave human touch sm but at the same time the idea of any male rats Ik irl touching me, repulses me)

Anywhooooo if you don't mind the idea of reiner being such a simp for you, showing you sm love and affection stretch marks and all after a rare (inwardly not so rare) day of feeling like shit 🥹

Or reiner throwing you around and slapping you in the face with his dick, I'm easy

(Side side note: I also been having this viral thought of Reiner having a girl And he cheats on her with you constantly, sometimes practically in front of her face, telling you how your better and he will leave her and she can't satisfy him like you can, if you don't like that kind of stuff ignore 🤠)

frennn, omg why are we just alike?! 😭 ovaries be jiggling like a mf, begging to be scrambled but I wouldn’t dream of letting those creatures near me. but ask and you shall receive! 🫶🏾 I literally love allllll of these so much, I have no idea which one to choose. I can’t stop thinking about, him more so than usual slsksks 😫😭 so ykw, we bout to combine all three LMAO! (mainly bc I love the idea of Reiner being a scumbag)

themes + such: infidelity, slight angst, rei is an asshole (not to you! 😭)body worship, pussy eating, reader has stretch marks/slight dysmorphia, body shaming, soft to rough sex, full nelson, daddy’s used, he picks reader up

WHEN SHE’S NOT AROUND

“Rei…wait, we can’t do this..”

“And why not? Who’s going to stop us?”

“No one and that’s the problem..”

the constant back and forth between two lovers, ensued among the fray of dishevelment and lust..lust that had driven you both to the point of no return. Truth be told, you had no good reason to be together. Nothing good would come of this in the long run and yet, here you were…lying in the bed of another woman, with her man’s hands roaming your body. His lips latched onto your nipples and his fingers plunged deep into your aching center. Riding them to bliss as you cried out his name; echoing the walls of her home..it was a disgrace and yet, you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t let him go..and he felt the same.

“Please..don’t try to pretend like you actually give a shit about her..” His voice seemingly mocking you..it certainly wasn’t his normal demeanor but the one thing you had come to accept about Reiner is that he was not perfect. Not by a long shot…he was certainly not some perfect gentleman that checked all of the boxes. He was handsome, successful, alluring, one hell of a lover but he wasn’t yours!..not even close. That much signified by the silver band on his right ring finger. Married to the girl you despised more than anything. You’d never hated anyone in your entire life but that snooty little blonde bitch was a shoe in for the first spot. Make no mistake, you weren’t afraid of her; more so she was intimidated by you and the thought of fucking her husband unbeknownst gave you a thrill like none other. But your conscious was heavy with thoughts of karma..how things would play out for you guys in the long run..what if he decided that one day he no longer wanted you and by some weird circumstance, decides to make it work with his wife? You’d be out and no one could feel an ounce of pity. You were the adulterer, the harlot, the side chick, mistress..but you were the only one he wanted.

“..because I don’t. Matter of fact, I hope she walks in here right now. I wanna see her face while I’m fucking you..” the deep tone in his voice rattling off into a laugh. Suddenly, he’d tug those thick digits out and shove them between your lips. Allowing you to pacify and taste yourself…watching you become so salacious for him never grew old and it wasn’t something he was ready to let go of. Not now and not ever!..meanwhile, he’d kneel to the floor, caressing your thick thighs in an attempt to quell you. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today? Hmm?…I feel like you should know that..” that deep southern drawl feeding you those sweet nothings, curling your toes at the sound. He could stay here forever, with you and no one else. Staring into the warmth of those beautiful brown eyes...the truth was, you hadn’t been feeling your best. You worked in the same building as his girl and as one of the lead makeup artists, for the brand that she and many other modeled for, it was difficult seeing women that looked nothing like you garner all of the attention and praise. Not to mention, hearing their snide remarks on the slick about your body type..about how you and others were not a fit for the pieces; literally and figuratively. You were used to it..working in the upper echelon came with discrimination on at least five different levels. But you let it roll off of your back. However, you were having a rather off day. Honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to be weighed down with the tension of knowing you were sleeping with someone else’s man. That was until you were gifted an anonymous bouquet of flowers..you had no question who the sender was and when he sent you a text message asking to see you, you were glad to accept. Now here you were being spoiled in more ways than one. “You know I love you too, right? You’re my everything..” “Yes, Rei..I love you too..”

Currently, his lips were latching onto your clit, hands firmly planted on your thighs and clawing into them. He needed to taste you..consume your scent and flavor until he was full. That’s the way it was with Reiner..he was a selfish man. Downright gluttonous and he’d have his cake and devour it too! “Good…because I don’t want you to take it personal when I fuck you like a whore tonight.” Smirking up at you and causing you to chew at your lip with a wide smile. Just then, he’d toss your leg across his shoulder and begin the rapid ascent into feasting on your cunt. It wasn’t long before those juices were trickling down his chin and you were trembling. You could’ve jumped from your own flesh at any minute. The way his tongue lapped at your bud, delicately navigated your folds..prodded your entrance..no one treated you better. Hence why his wife would simply have to share. “Oh fuck!…yes, Rei..right there..”

he knew that you were exactly where he wanted you..and there was no way he was letting you go until he got what he desired….suddenly, he’d pull away with his mouth only to quickly substitute your pleasure with his fingers whilst he spoke to you. Feeding you every positive affirmation he could think of…complimenting your beautiful smile down to your legs; rubbing them gently. He didn’t just admire you, he practically worshipped you. Leaving kisses on those stretch marks displayed across your pudgy tummy. He loved all of it and thought that you should do the same. He was adamant in letting you know there was nothing for you to be ashamed of. “You’re so fucking sexy. Trust me..she’s not even half the woman you are. Never could be, baby. The next time she says something, just think about the fact that you have the one thing she doesn’t..” he’d declare, proceeding to spit onto your folds and continue licking. Not once did he break eye contact because he wanted to see all of the expressions that came across your face..he was right. She’d brag and boast about her husband who loved her so much to anyone who’d listen. That was at least in the public eye..however, behind the closed doors of a dressing room, crying into the arms of her best friend, she’d confess that he hadn’t touched her in months. That he seemed distant and cold and she was worried about an affair. Your kind nature couldn’t bear harboring such a secret but the side of you that wanted revenge for watching that bully’s abuse to other girls; bragging about her appearance, wealth and everything else she could flaunt as an adolescent, up into adult hood…you were enjoying this. You wanted the bitch to suffer and quite frankly, see her man getting fucked by the very type of woman she swore she was superior to!

“Lay back f’r me, sweetheart and put those fucking legs up..”

By this point, Reiner’s entire demeanor had seemed to shift. He was still very much hungry for that delicious nectar but he was done with the sweet, charming, innocent demeanor. Quite frankly, it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed him to take what was his! To be dominant, aggressive and pound every single ounce of tension from your body. You were sopping wet with a linear trail of slick, seeping down your slit and he had just the plan to add to the mess. Quickly standing to his feet, he’d take the place of your palms and squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs..he’d already previously undressed so when he came up, that erect cock did along with it as well. He was aching for you..so much so, the only way he’d be able to gain relief was to bury himself inside of you. That’s when you’d feel him lob a trail of spit onto your folds before rubbing that tip against you…you couldn’t handle another moment of being teased so luckily…

“You’re about to get all of this dick, I hope you know that..”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…take this pussy. Fuck me..”

..he didn’t make you wait long! A moment later, you’d feel that tip split open your folds and enter your warmth. It felt damn near divine being inside of you. He practically trembled; cursing aloud when he was met with the sensation of your walls constricting around him. This was all he wanted, all he needed and he’d be content as long as he could have you. “This pussy’s so fucking tight…goddamn, she never feels this good.” Chuckling to himself because he couldn’t believe just how starkly different his experience was with you and his wife. Oftentimes, he found himself bored or not even remotely aroused. She’d complain that it was too much or that she couldn’t fit it all the way. She didn’t like to do any of the nasty things you preferred and when it came to giving him oral sex, she downright refused. Just recently, he stopped trying altogether and always claimed he was too exhausted for sex. Meanwhile, he was buried balls deep inside of you every chance he got!

“Mmmmph, take it, baby. Keep fucking me, just like that..”

Whimpering as you rubbed your clit..stroking that bud slowly..your gaze was fixated on his, a smile on both of your faces as he nestled every inch into you. His strokes were consistent, deep and a little fast. He couldn’t be vexed to take it slow tonight. He needed to give it to you the way you deserved. “Who’s pussy is this, baby? Huh? Tell me..” questioning as he grasped for your ankles, placing gentle kisses along your instep and growling into your skin. He wasn’t letting up for anything. Not until he was damn well satisfied..

“Y-yours, daddy. Oh my gosh..”

crying out with a frail whimper as his pace sped up. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d push at his abs to feign him off but that only did more to fuel his desire to wreck you. Instead, you found yourself hoisted up mid air and cradled in his huge arms. Being propelled up and down on his cock as he slammed you down onto it. Reiner was a brick house of a man, courtesy of all the years he spent playing football. With the bank account to match. By all accounts, he lived the dream life that so many sought after…millions in his account, large, picturesque home and a model wife but the one thing that alluded him…the one person he desired most was right here.

“Fuck….it should’ve been you, baby. It was always supposed to be you. You’re the one that should be wearing that ring, my last name..you should have her life.”

his words becoming far more enunciated, filled with much more passion and aggression..he craved you so badly he could feel it every fiber of his soul. He’d do anything to keep you around..no matter the cost. Clawing into his back, (y/n) cried out his name and let him know that you mirrored his sentiments and that regardless of titles, rings or legalities, he belonged to you! The only one who’d truly ever love him..

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise..”

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stolitzsings · 3 months

Text

This is a sort of response to a post I've seen floating around, drawing parallels between the chains in Blitz’s trip that bind him to Stolas and the chains that bind Husk, Angel, and Fizz to Alastor, Valentino, and Mammon respectively. I'm not commenting on that post directly bc I avoid Discourse (tm) at all costs for the sake of my health, and I don’t want to get drawn into an unproductive argument that will mess with my anxiety for a week. I'm not trying to start a fight, just get my thoughts out on why I feel that comparison is inaccurate, and hopefully provide some helpful context and nuance.

So! Let's start with a few disclaimers! First of all, I'm not going to debate the moral purity of any of these characters. I just don't think it's an interesting or valuable critique. On a related note, I am not trying to excuse any of their behavior. I'm happy to admit that my favorite characters in this show have hurt people and are sometimes total assholes. Stolas treated Blitz very poorly at the beginning of their relationship, frequently pushed or even ignored boundaries, and was just kind of a dick about things. My objection to a direct comparison between Stolas and the other characters mentioned above isn't because I think Stolas hasn't done anything wrong; I just think that saying they're similar without further clarification or commentary ignores the nuance of the situation.

Read on below the cut, it's gonna be another long one folks!

Let's start by examining the "agreements" forged by Val, Mammon, and Alastor. I think it's important to note that, in their cases, the person they got to sign their contract could have been anyone. Husk and Angel could have been any sinners, Fizz could have been any imp. They aren't interested in them as people; they were only using them to gain more power for themselves. The only thing that matters to them is, "What can you do for me?" Angel and Fizz quite clearly become cogs in the machine of Val and Mammon's businesses, and Alastor only thinks of Husk as a tool to be leveraged in specific situations to further his own mysterious goals. Each of them has demonstrated to their subjugates that they own them, body and soul. They have signed legally and spiritually binding contracts that essentially surrender their autonomy to a more powerful demon.

Stolas and Blitz’s agreement is... not that. In the most literal sense, they don’t appear to have made any sort of binding deal. They just made a verbal agreement, which I sincerely doubt has anywhere near the force of a signed soul contract. Additionally, Stolas did not ask for and does not seem to want that sort of total control over Blitz. He very clearly does not view this as any sort of power exchange (which may actually be part of the issue, since it leaves him blind to Blitz’s discomfort with their class difference), he sees it as "favors for favors." While this agreement is inherently unbalanced due to Stolas's status, it's worth noting that they’re both putting something on the line here. The other three risk practically nothing (if the person bound to them fails they can always get a new one), but Stolas IS taking on a real risk by letting Blitz access the living world illegally using his book. Again, that doesn't make his actions right, and probably helped him to justify them, but it does set their relationship apart from the others.

In my opinion, some of Stolas's greatest flaws are his thoughtlessness and his ability to justify his own actions to himself. This manifests in the fact that he clearly doesn't see the ways in which their relationship is hurting Blitz. He convinced himself that this was just an equal exchange, and a continuation of the dynamic Blitz established in their first encounter as adults: "I fuck you, and you give me the book". As he becomes more aware of his feelings for Blitz, though (stay tuned for a deeper analysis of this progression later), he also begins to realize that Blitz isn't happy with this relationship. And this, as @masonshmason pointed out, is the central fact that separates Stolas and Blitz from the other relationships. Stolas did not realize- or chose to ignore- how he was hurting Blitz. Once he came to terms with it, though, he understood that he had to make things right. He specifically says this in "Just Look My Way"; "I will try to make amends/ For making you means to an end". None of the others could say this, because in their case, that was the POINT. Angel, Fizz, and Husk were ALWAYS a means to an end, intentionally trapped for that purpose.

We also need to talk about the CONTEXT of the scenes in which the chain imagery appears. For both Angel and Husk, the chain is at least semi-literal, a physical (and perhaps supernatural) manifestation of the way their souls are bound to an overlord. In "Two Minutes Notice," Fizz purposely CHOOSES to represent his relationship to Mammon as chains around his wrists. However, Blitz's scene is part of a drug trip after being forcibly dosed with hallucinogens. It does not exist in any literal sense, nor is it a representation of Blitz’s conscious, literal thoughts. What it DOES do is showcase Blitz’s deepest fears and his greatest flaws through symbolism and metaphor. Blitz is not literally afraid of being forced to wear a clown costume; he is afraid he'll never escape his past traumas or Fizz's shadow. THIS is the context in which Blitz sees himself being chained by Stolas: a bad trip all about his fear of intimacy and vulnerability.

Stolas appears in this trip as someone elevated high above him, something he's climbing towards, reaching for, even though it means being chained to him. It's directly preceded by his ex girlfriend and his former best friend berating him for how he pushes people away even though he hates being alone. Then Stolas directly asks him, "Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?" Furthermore, the WAY in which he is framed is alluring, slightly hazy, golden and tempting. It couldn’t be further from the ugly, slime-covered past he's fleeing. It's a new start, a chance for something better that seems too good to be true. This trip is all about Blitz’s inability to be vulnerable with another person. The chain around his neck is a representation of the fact that, by getting closer to Stolas, he's giving Stolas the power to hurt him emotionally.

And man, there's a part of him that wants to give Stolas that power. At this critical moment, he's not baring his teeth in defiance or anger. He's blushing, just slightly, and he looks... nervous. Blitz's instinct, when things get too real, is to cut and run. Hurt them before they can hurt you. Abandon them before they have the chance to leave you. It’s how he tanked his relationship with Verosika. This is a manifestation of what might happen if he stays. This is the sort of trouble he can't fight his way out of.

This is the emotional climax of the scene. There are so many ways they could have gone with this if they wanted to represent Blitz being chained and trapped by his agreement with Stolas. If that was the fear--if that was the POINT--they could have had the chains wrap around him until he couldn't move, or glow white hot and burn into his skin, or a million other more direct metaphors. But the chains aren't the thing that hurts him. It's the feathers: the thing that's left behind after Stolas abandons him, sing-songing "you're going to die alone" right alongside two other people who he loved and who now want nothing to do with him.

Finally, let's look at Blitz’s reaction to this scene. It's a moment of revelation for him, in which he realizes he's pushing everyone away and starts to make an effort to change. It's why he's a bit more open with Moxxie in the next scene. The trip sequence ALSO inspires him to get closer to Stolas, indicating that the trip didn’t make him realize "I'm trapped and I need to get out of this" in the same way Fizz did. Rather, he realizes that he doesn't want Stolas to leave him like everyone else, and he wants to start feeling out what it would be like to deepen the connection between them. As I've mentioned in other posts, their kiss at the end of "truth seekers" represents a level of intimacy that we haven't seen before; it's teasing, affectionate, shows Blitz’s interest in making Stolas happy, and takes place in front of M&M, who have repeatedly teased him about their relationship before.

In summary, while the image of chains may have been invoked in all four of these relationships, they don’t necessarily mean the same thing across the board. Blitz and Stolas's relationship differs substantially from the others in its dynamic, and the context of their scene also sets it apart. It's important to look into the details and the nuance of their relationship to interpret what's going on under layers of trauma and unreliable narration.

#stolas #blitzø #stolitz #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss meta #hazbin hotel

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notyourhetloki · 9 months

Note

Please more ken smut idc plot or anything! you are such a good writer I could read them forever

mink fantasy (Ken x Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Hi, anon!! OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH you made me blushh aaaa and oof I wanted to write more smut for this man so bad! Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it! It's a mixture between an imagine and headcanons bc idk what I'm doing! Also, I made a reference to the "dirty secret" part in my nsfw alfabet soo... read it first if you'd like! xoxo

Warnings: very smutty, dolls have genitals in this one, top!Ken, Ken is feeling himself, over-confident Ken, inappropriate use of the mink!

—

What if... Ken fucked you wearing his mink coat?

Like, he would be super nervous to bring that fantasy up, but as soon as you approved it, oh... things would get interesting.

He would feel so confident, so sexy wearing it... it would bring a new attitude out of him... he would feel powerful.

Ken would kiss you slowly, taking his time to taste and feel you. Hungrily grabbing on your thighs, your ass... feeling really possessive all of a sudden.

And you loved it, oh... to see him wearing only a pair of pants and the mink, exposing his toned torso... feeling the fur on your skin and looking up at him to see arousal in his eyes... oof.

You couldn't help it, kneeling in front of him and undoing his pants like the good doll you were. His cock already hard by the time you pulled it out, you admired it for a moment before licking it from base to tip.

Ken would roll his head back, moaning and grabbing your hair as you teased him with your tongue... and now he would make sure to try his best and watch you through the whole thing.

And you would do a fantastic job, kissing and licking until his grip on your hair got a little too strong... then you would finally open your mouth and swallow him, bobbing your head up and down while sucking on his dick.

The fur on his coat would tickle your face, but you wouldn't mind it at all, continuing to suck him until you drooled all over his cock, saliva dripping down your chin as you tried your best to get him all the way down.

Ken would moan loudly and begin to thrust his hips into you, meeting your movements while grabbing your hair. He'd be so deep into your throat, dominating you with his grip and you wouldn't even gag (cuz guess what? dolls don't have a gag reflex).

Wet slapping sounds echoed through the room, only making the two of you hornier by the second. You hummed around his dick, muffled moans tried to escape your mouth as he pounded into you, groaning at the feeling of you around him.

"Fuck, (Y/N)... your mouth feels so good... agh!" He'd be so cocky, too... full of confidence to praise you and say the dirtiest of things. "You like sucking my cock, doll?" or "Oh, I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face."

And he would! Taking his dick out of you to finish on your face... and you accepted his load with an open mouth so you could taste him. He seemed to really appreciate the view, smirking and stroking your cheek while humming in approval.

Ken would enjoy the afterglow by sitting down and having you between his legs, like a puppy. You would caress his tighs while he evened his breathing, eyes closed in pure bliss.

But then would come the worrying... Ken would suddenly snap out of his over-confident persona and start asking you questions like: "My love, did I hurt you??" or "Are you ok?? Did I go too far?"

After cleaning up and reassuring him that everything was fine, you would kiss him tenderly while holding the sides of his face, saying sweet 'I love you's and running your fingers through his hair.

In the end, the experience would be fantastic for the both of you. Ken would adore wearing his mink, and you were delighted to meet his new cocky demeanor.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x gn reader #ken x you #gender neutral #barbie #ryan gosling #headcanon #imagine #self insert #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #request #notyourhetloki

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sluttywoozi · 1 year

Text

What Should We Become?

Title from Turbulence by Ateez

For: @sluttywonwoo my bestie and birthday queen

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 9.0k | Pairing: Yeosang x f!reader x San

You and San have been dating for years, you're well aware of his penchant for doing anything for anyone he loves. You just didn't know that extended to asking you to fuck his best friend, not that you mind.

Tags: est. relationship, boyfriend!san, bestfriend!yeosang, threesome, fluff, smut

Notes: boyfriend!san, you live together, pov lowkey all over the place bc i wanted to know what everyone was thinking soz

Warnings: so many feelings i did NOT plan for, food/alc mention, mention of past toxic relationship (yeo's), jealous san, mentions of san being possessive but specifically not in a gross way, nipple play, biting, oral (f and m rec.), fingering, squirting, they both have big dicks, protected piv, unprotected piv, spitroasting (hate that term so sorry), san cums inside, bc not discussed but they’re safe, open ending

Reader Notes: a bit more specific than usual bc this is for the bestie, ‘girlfriend’ used many times, she/her pronouns used, has breasts and a vagina, mention of marks showing on her skin, WAP

You fumble with the wrapping on the popcorn, cursing under your breath and trying to tear the plastic as Temi weaves in and out of your feet. San’s hand hovers just out of reach, ready and waiting to do it for you, but you pretend not to see it. He loves doing things for you and you love that about him, both because it means he’s considerate and also because it means you have to do less things, but sometimes you want to do them on your own. You know popcorn isn’t exactly the most impactful opportunity to make a stand, but it’s all about baby steps.

The bag is finally turning in the microwave when his fingers catch at your shirt and he starts tugging you into his orbit. He’s big, broad, but still lean enough that you think you could lift him, probably, not that you’ve ever tried. You’re musing about how many piggyback rides he’s given you and how little you’ve given him when he asks the question.

“Baby, how would you feel about sleeping with Yeosang?” He sounds nervous, his voice full of trepidation and the fabric of your top clenched in his hand.

“Like a sleepover? That’s fine with me, I can take the couch if you guys want to share the bed, I know you like your snuggle time. Just know I'm taking Temi with me,” you respond mildly, unsure as to why he’s so on edge.

You can see the pain enter his eyes when he realizes he’ll need to explain further.

“No, I mean, like- Ugh! This is so hard!” He sucks in a deep breath before expelling it along with the words, “I want you to have sex with Yeosang!”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, alright,” you shrug, like he asked if you’d eat Italian for dinner, not have sex with another man. A man who isn’t your boyfriend. A man who happens to be your boyfriend’s best friend. A man who happens to be your friend. A man you happen to find incredibly attractive.

“You agreed to that way too easily,” San pouts, pulling you closer with his arms wrapped around your waist. His fingers dig in possessively, as if to remind you who you really want, who you really love. Like you could ever forget.

You met San and Yeosang at the same time and spent some time with both of them as friends before San confessed his feelings for you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Yeosang at all in those few weeks, about Yeosang and San, and just how their dynamic would translate to sex.

But no matter how curious you were, and how prim and polished and perfect Yeosang is (and how much you want to wreck that perfection), San will always be the only man for you.

How could you be with anyone else when San is the only one who knows you? When he not only gives you his pickles but orders an extra side of them, just for you. When he started wearing socks to bed because you hate other peoples’ feet touching yours. When he always makes sure you have your favorite lunch to eat with your favorite show, and always buys those star pimple patches you like, and brought home a soaking wet, shivering, brown ball of fur that you promptly wrapped up in a fresh-from-the-dryer towel and named Temi.

San can read all of your moods, knows when you need extra attention or when you need solitude, knows when you want him all over you and when you can’t stand to be touched, knows how to calm you down and how to ramp you up, knows everything there is to know about you.

He even knows the less cute parts, the ones you try to keep hidden away from everyone else. The jealousy, the insecurity, the fear of inadequacy, he knows it all.

And he loves you. He loves you so much it shines out of every pore, so much it fills in every crack in your facade, so much he makes you glow with it. There’s no ‘but’, no ‘despite’, he loves every single thing about you because they’re about you.

The best part is, you’re not even special.

Sure, you’re special to him, but you’re not the only one he loves like this. He loves all of his friends with such intensity, knows them all better than he knows himself, would do anything for them. Even ask his girlfriend to have sex with them, apparently.

Making the decision to ask must have been beyond difficult for him. San is made up of a myriad of lovely qualities, but one of the less lovely ones is his possessiveness. It never crosses the bridge into toxicity, never scares you, but he does get a certain look on his face when his friends get too touchy with you. Or when a guy asks to buy you a drink at the bar after he goes to the bathroom. Or when your ex texts you or your male study buddy invites you out for dinner or, or, or.

But… you like it, if you’re being honest. You like when his eyes get heavy and warm on you and his grip gets tight and his body gets even bigger, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t enjoy his posturing, but you just can’t help it when you consider what often follows.

(San blowing your back out.)

(That’s what follows.)

The discussion of details comes later, when your popcorn has cooled enough to eat and San has gotten over his petty jealousy at the thought of you being touched by someone else. He’d gotten petulant about it after like he hadn’t considered that part of the equation, but he seems to have grown accustomed to it. There will be rules, of course, such as, “He can’t cum inside of you. That’s just for me.”

And, “No marks, either.”

“And he has to wear a condom.”

“And-”

“San, we don’t even know if Yeo wants to fuck me yet. Why don’t we get that squared away before we lay out all of the boundaries, okay?”

“Of course he wants to fuck you,” San almost sounds offended at the idea that he wouldn’t, “But, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he concedes.

“What brought this on, anyway? Is this… something you’re into?” You ask, not expecting a yes but also not expecting the answer you get.

“No, definitely not. You know I’m not a good sharer. It’s just that Yeo kind of wants to get back into dating but he’s a bit… unsteady after his last experience. I want him to have a good one before he puts himself out there again, for a confidence boost. And I know I can trust him with you, and you with him.”

It’s… well, shockingly isn’t the right word, because San is kind to a fault, sometimes, but it’s an unexpectedly altruistic reason, and you’re all the more glad you agreed. You would have been fine with it if he just wanted to watch another man fuck you because you think that’s hot, but to know that he really just wants to take care of his best friend makes you even more sure of your decision.

It helps that Yeosang looks like a prince and acts like one, too. You’ve wondered what he’s like in bed, if he’s the same or if he’s less refined, less quiet, less polite. He’s so strong, you wonder if he’ll throw you around or hold you down, or if he’ll handle you gently and hold your hand. You wouldn’t mind either, if you’re being honest.

The weight of San’s suspicious gaze tears you from your thoughts. You send him an innocent smile and lean in, batting your eyelashes and puckering up for a kiss. He obliges, of course, deepening it before you can even think to pull away, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and working its way inside. You love how he kisses you, so thoroughly, so passionately, like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than you.

By the time he pulls away, you’re breathless and brainless, all thoughts of anyone but San wiped from your mind.

San decides to invite Yeosang over when you’re at one of your The Gals nights to pop the question. He literally feels like he’s about to propose as he paces the apartment, doing some last minute tidying and nervously smoothing his shirt every three minutes. It’s not like Yeosang’s never come over before - he’s nearly a regular fixture at this point. You and San had even considered giving him a key.

This is different though, he’s about to ask his best friend if he wants to have sex with his girlfriend. He still can’t believe he even thought of the idea, let alone pitched it to you, but here he is, rehearsing different ways of broaching the topic as he anxiously awaits Yeosang’s arrival.

He can’t be too direct or he’ll scare Yeosang away - he can be a bit skittish sometimes - but he also can’t dance around it too much or Yeo won’t figure out what he’s talking about. The guy is smart as hell but kind of slow on the uptake on occasion, a trait San is beyond fond of, though it makes it difficult to be subtle about things like this.

‘Things like this,’ as if he’s ever done anything of this nature before, he thinks with a wry laugh and shakes his head. Sharing you was never even a concept in his mind until Yeosang had confided in him that he was scared to get back out there after his ex. He’d brainstormed a few ways to help but kept going back to how much you’d helped him through sex when you first got together. He’d been completely inexperienced and insanely nervous until you started guiding him, and everything flowed from there. He wished you could help Yeosang the same way, and then realized the only thing stopping you from doing just that was him. It would have been selfish not to at least ask if you’d be interested, and though he was a little surprised (and annoyed) that you agreed with no hesitation, he still believes this is the right thing to do.

So when two timid knocks sound on the door, San’s nerves settle to a low simmer and he’s able to greet his best friend as normally as possible.

The normalcy only lasts for so long, his anxiety ticking back up the longer he makes awkward small talk with Yeosang. He knows Yeo can sense that something is off but he also knows he'll never say anything about it, will just sit here and watch TV and talk about nothing until San is ready to tell him. It’s a wonderful quality of Yeosang’s, the fact that he can read him so well and knows not to dig, but today San wishes he would. He’s not sure he can find it in himself to ask Yeosang if he’d like to fuck you, and a good lead in might be the only way he can bring it up.

Hours pass and San’s shoulders start to ache with tension. He still hasn’t said anything about the actual reason he invited Yeosang over today, and he’s starting to feel like he could vibrate out of his skin. He really didn’t think it would be this hard, definitely thought it would be more difficult to ask you rather than Yeosang, but here he is. It’s nearing bedtime and you’ll likely return home soon, and then what's San supposed to do? Ask Yeosang if he wants to have sex with you while you’re right here?

Wait.

Wait, that might be a good idea. You hadn’t discussed when exactly this would happen but from your texts tonight, San already knows you’re turned on, and Yeosang is here, so…

So... he stalls until your key starts turning in the lock and Temi starts screeching in reaction, knowing exactly what that sound means. He’s sure Yeosang noticed his change in demeanor but he doesn’t bother explaining, knowing that Yeo is going to be very confused for however long it takes to go through everything.

He doesn’t want to just spring his plan on you so he leaps up and jogs over from the couch to greet you at the door, shouting, “One sec!” at the living room before pulling you into the farthest corner of the kitchen. You follow with a huff, yelling, “Hi Yeosang!” and turning to San only when Yeo responds, "Hiii."

“Babe, hear me out,” San begs with his hands on your shoulders as he watches the confusion spread on your face.

“You haven’t said anything to hear out yet,” you remind him, arching a brow at him in expectation. “You just dragged me in here and you didn’t even let me say hi to Yeosang.”

“You did say hi to Yeosang, just now-,”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but I have to tell you something!”

“Okay, so tell me! I’m not tipsy anymore and I either want to shower or fuck so-,”

“That’s good because I want to ask Yeo right now if he wants to fuck you tonight. What are your thoughts?”

He hadn’t planned on sounding so frustrated when he told you but when the words start to spill out, he lets them. It doesn’t help that you’re really hot when you’re annoyed and he’s a bit upset that he’ll have to let Yeo have you first if everything goes well.

“Um.”

The third voice startles him, makes his fingers clench your shoulders a bit too hard and at the breath hissed through your teeth, he lets go. He pets at the sore spots, whispering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” until you grab his hands and tell him, “Sannie, it’s okay. Let’s focus on Yeo.”

He turns cautiously, unsure of what he’ll find as he shifts his attention to the statue that was his best friend. Yeosang stands perfectly still, his eyes alarmed and his mouth half open. San can’t tell if he’s scared or grossed out or offended or all three, and this suddenly feels like the worst idea he’s ever had. Not just the telling him part but the whole thing. Regret settles heavily in his stomach, mortification closing up his throat as he tries to find the right words to say. He’s about to start with the most teary apology of his life when Yeosang starts to speak.

“Um, I do want to- I would. Like that. I would like to do that,” Yeosang says firmly, if a bit clumsily. He nods emphatically as he speaks, seriously, like this is an honor that’s been bestowed upon him, and San supposes it is. You haven’t fucked many people other than San and San has fucked nobody other than you, so to let someone into that aspect of your relationship is a sign of just how much you both trust Yeosang and each other.

“Oh,” You and San exhale in unison, “Well, that makes things easier,” San continues.

Shifting to lean back against the counter, San crosses his arms and looks directly into Yeosang’s eyes, “We have some rules.” You roll yours, pulling San’s arms away from his chest enough to slide between them and rest your back against him to break the rising tension.

“I like rules,” Yeosang assures you both excitedly, looking more relaxed now that he knows there are restrictions.

“One: you’re wearing a condom. I got a few different sizes, just in case. Two: you’re not cumming inside of her, even with the condom. Three: no marking-,”

“But you can bite!” You interject helpfully, making San nod and repeat, “Yes, biting is okay, just don’t leave any marks.”

Yeosang smiles primly, nodding along as well. The look in his eye tells San he’s going over the rules in his head and he has to push down the wave of fondness in order to maintain his stern facade. As well as he knows Yeo would never do anything to hurt you, San still feels like he needs to protect you in a situation like this, and the rules make him feel better about entrusting you to someone else. (San also knows you’re a fully grown person and can make your own decisions, but you’re his girlfriend too and he loves you, deal with it.)

“And if at any point any of us wants to stop, all we have to do is say so,” San declares, making sure you and Yeosang understand that the situation is under your full control. He’s planning on just being a spectator, but if you’re up for it after Yeosang…

You and Yeo agree, exchanging nervous smiles and glancing toward the bedroom. It’s clear you’re both becoming antsy, but San has one last thing to say.

“Okay, I just want us to remember that we’re all friends here. Well, babe, we’re more than that, obviously, and Yeo, you know you’re my man, but what I’m trying to say is that there’s no reason to be nervous because it’s all love here, right?”

“Right,” you parrot with a squeeze to his forearm as Yeosang smiles and twists his fingers together. He’s clearly still nervous but you seem perfectly at ease and San is reminded once again why this is a good idea. You’re just what Yeo needs to find his confidence again and San hopes that tonight is the first step to him finding his own you, too.

Things are awkward once you all reach the bedroom. Temi is asleep on the bed so you have to take her to her favorite blanket in the living room. She stays asleep, the sweet little log she is, but you leave out a plate of food just in case she wakes up. It strikes you that you haven’t really gotten to prepare at all and though you’re used to just going at it with San, you need some time to get ready for Yeosang. You feel a bit disheveled after Gals’ Night so you continue straight into the bathroom to strip your dirty clothes and start the shower.

Peeking your head out from behind the door, you tell the boys, “Just gimme five! Why don’t you get the condoms out, babe?”

San does so, presenting Yeosang with a grocery bag of four boxes, sizes small to extra-large. He really did cover all of his bases (there were two possibilities that, as his best friend and also someone who’s seen him in wet swim trunks, San knew he could ignore). Yeo avoids his eyes and dips a hand into the bag, grabbing the extra-large box and clumsily pawing at the packaging. He finally rips it open, a roll of 36 condoms spilling out onto the bed, much to his obvious consternation.

“There weren’t smaller boxes?” Yeosang asks, eyeing the multicolored packages splayed on the sheets.

“Better safe than sorry,” San responds with a shrug, sweeping all but one condom back into the box before tossing the bag into the closet.

Yeosang can’t help but agree, stepping back to sit carefully on the bed next to the condom, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his gaze anywhere but on San. He can hear the shower, hear the muted smack of water on tile, knows you’re naked in there. Can almost imagine the drops rolling their way down your body, slipping over the curves that he definitely has not been very well aware of since he met you.

This feels insane, this whole situation, but Yeosang would rather die than leave right now. It’s not like he’s been lying in wait to steal you from San, but he did have a little bit of a crush on you that he never told him about. He’d known that San had fallen for you practically at first sight, and he could never put himself above his best friend like that. That said, this opportunity is one he’s planning on taking full advantage of. He’s still not sure why San wants him to have sex with you but he’s scared to ask, scared to jeopardize this arrangement and leave here without ever knowing you like this.

Unfortunately, it’s something he needs to know before he can go any further.

“San, why do you want to let me do this? You’re not the best at sharing,” Yeosang asks quietly, as if the lower his volume the less likely it is that San will change his mind.

“Well,” San sighs, looking around the room to avoid his eyes, though Yeosang suspects that’s more for him than anything. “Your last relationship was shitty. She wasn’t nice to you and she was always ragging on you or telling you you weren’t good enough. You mentioned a few weeks ago you were thinking of joining some dating apps, so I wanted to figure out how to boost your confidence when it comes to stuff like this. But all I could think was that I wished you had someone like Y/N to help you through it like I did. And it occurred to me that you do, if I let you.”

The room is silent besides the low rush of the shower and Yeosang’s brain is anything but. Any other guy would just take him to a bar and play wingman, but here San is, offering to let him fuck his girlfriend if it means he’ll get some of his self-esteem back. He’s not sure it’s something he could bear to do, and he’s shocked San is willing to even try with how territorial he can get. Yeosang knows he can trust him though, and that he can trust you. So when San looks at him head on, his expression open and honest, there’s nothing else for Yeosang to do but thank him.

“You’re a really good friend, San. The best.”

You get a bit distracted in the shower and it takes much longer than five minutes, but you can’t say you regret it. You feel so refreshed, so dewy, and you know you smell good as fuck so now is the prime time to reenter the absurd circumstances you’ve created with your boyfriend. You’re a little nervous now, the small amount of time you’d been out of the dynamic leaving you feeling off-kilter and unsure. You know San is waiting for you out there though, Yeosang too, and that’s enough to give you the courage you need to push open the door. Steam escapes around you, framing you in what you hope is a flattering haze, and both boys’ eyes snap to you immediately. You freeze in place, your eyes wide and your fingers gripping tightly at the towel wrapped around your body as they take you in. San’s already half hard, likely a Pavlovian response to what happens whenever you’re at least semi-naked in his vicinity (you getting bent over or pushed up against the closest surface). Yeosang’s body is turned away from you so you can’t tell if he’s similarly affected but the expression on his face is that of someone who’s just seen an angel, which bolsters your confidence enough to let the towel slip down a bit further.

You can feel San’s eyes on you as you tease Yeosang, know he’s smiling a smile far too sweet for this context, and you just can’t resist the urge to turn and look at him.

You were right, his face is lit up with a grin that could rival the sun, but his eyes are steamy, heavy, possessive. You can tell he’s trying his best to step back and let you and Yeo get to know each other like this, can tell how hard it is for him to even share you at this level of undress, and you vow to yourself that every day this week, you’ll be swallowing his dick. He deserves it, to be taken care of and pampered and spoiled, and you know there’s no one better for the job than you.

Stepping further into the room, you move to San first, pressing a kiss to his lips and attempting to move on. It gets out of hand quickly, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling the towel tight across your ass. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, nibbling on the tip and letting his own glide against yours before shifting one hand to your stomach and physically pushing you away. You break apart at the last possible second, your head angled forward even as your body is forced to move backward, wanting to kiss him for as long as you can.

Yeosang waits patiently on the bed, standing when San pushes you in his direction and letting you fix the towel before taking your hands in his.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, wanting to check in at every step and also desperately wishing he could read your mind, if only to know what you think of him.

“Good! I’m good. A little nervous. How are you feeling?”

“I’m nervous too,” he whispers, like he doesn’t want San to hear after you’d agreed there was no reason to be, “But excited.”

“Me too,” you smile indulgently at him, wondering why you suddenly have the conversation skills of an incel when you’re just talking to Yeosang.

Obviously, you know why. But you wish it wasn’t so, wish you didn’t feel so stilted, wish you could summon that easy rapport you always share with him. He seems to sense this, pursing his lips in that small smile you love before offering, “Maybe if I take my shirt off?”

“Oh. Oh, um, yeah, I think that could help. Maybe,” you breathe, forcing yourself not to blink as his fingers pull the fabric higher and higher, revealing rows of pale abs two by two. You think you count eight before you hear a throat clear behind you and turn to find San shirtless as well. Cooing at his rising jealousy, you blow him a kiss and rotate back to Yeosang, only to find a smirk on his face and his hands on his belt.

When did he get all confident? You wonder, realizing that the switch happened at the same time San made his green eyes known, and suddenly, his change in demeanor makes perfect sense. San and Yeosang get into a little rivalry every now and then, just some friendly competition, and it seems this is going to be one of those times. Does that make you the prize? You’re not sure but it definitely feels like you’re the winner here, getting to experience Yeosang while knowing that San will be waiting for you when it’s all over. You try to remember you’re doing this for Yeo, not for yourself, but it’s difficult when you’ve got two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen wanting you.

“Go ahead then,” You challenge Yeosang, just because you’re curious what he’ll do, and he reacts exactly as you expected. He blanches, one hand moving to run through his hair and the other reaching up to cover what he can of his chest, which isn’t much. It’s cute, adorable, really, the way he dropped the cockiness as soon as he was forced to commit.

You can tell he’s going to need some guidance from here, frozen as he is, so you gently take the hand hiding his pecs and pull him down to sit with you on the bed. San drops into the chair in the corner of the room but stays silent, letting you and Yeosang work it out. You’re grateful for it, for him, for his quiet strength steadying the both of you.

“Why don’t we just start with a kiss and go from there? Do you want to kiss me, Yeosang?” You whisper, shuffling closer to him while keeping your grip on your towel.

“Yes. I do, please,” he answers immediately, scooting over a few inches with his knees pressed tightly together.

Leaning in slowly, you brush your lips over his. You can feel his cupid’s bow, feel his breath, feel the minute trembling of his bottom lip as he waits for you to kiss him properly. You will, of course you will, but first you want to make him just a little bit crazy. You let your mouth graze his, sink your teeth ever so slightly into that bottom lip, giving the teeniest tiniest sucks every so often. Yeosang shivers against you, his body taut like a bowstring, his fingers gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles go white. He’s trying so hard to restrain himself that you decide to give him more, slipping your tongue into his mouth to glide against his and sighing into him when he tentatively nudges back.

He tastes like coke and popcorn, the flawless combination of sweet and salty tasting even better on his tongue, making you suck at it in pulses and making Yeosang let out a quiet moan. The sound sends zaps of electricity through you, one of your hands leaving your towel to cup his face and kiss him harder. He’s addictive, his sweet little noises and his sharp jawline, and you force yourself to pull back before you can get too carried away. You can’t just kiss him all night, you’re- Well… No! You cannot just kiss him all night!

Even if you want to.

He tries to follow but you still him with your free hand on his chest while you virtually gasp for air, your mind racing as you try to figure out where to go from here. You’re feeling a bit scrambled, slightly out of sorts, so you seek out the person who always knows where you are even when you don’t.

San’s already looking at you, his eyes soft even as his hands grip the armrests, and he raises a brow when you lock eyes. Instantly, he knows your predicament and helps you out of it.

“Babe, being on the bed might be more comfy, hm?” He sounds slightly amused and you narrow your eyes at him in a playful glare as you and Yeosang get situated on the duvet. You’re glad his teasing is directed at you though, you have a feeling it wouldn’t be well received by Yeosang at this particular point in time.

You wish you’d put underwear on under the towel - you’re not quite ready to be buck ass naked in front of your boyfriend’s best friend - but you hadn’t brought any into the bathroom and it didn’t feel right in the moment to go to the dresser, so here you are. One layer from said state, and a flimsy layer at that. However, you were born to persevere, laying down and tugging at the towel until it lays flat over you. Yeosang was busy taking off his pants, thankfully, and when you’re both finished fussing, you take each other in.

Your eyes rove over him as he sits on his knees, his gray boxer briefs stretched tight over his thighs and his posture immaculate. You can see the outline of his cock, see it straining against the fabric, a couple spots of pre-cum darkened fabric dotted at the head. You can also see the XL condom next to him, and thank God you’re laying down because your knees just went weak at the thought of even seeing his dick. Let alone touching it. Let alone having it inside of you. You want all of those things, but there’s a nagging thought in the back of your brain that reminds you, Yeosang isn’t San.

Yeosang isn’t San and he isn’t yours either, so you tell yourself not to get too comfortable with him tonight. You can get a little comfortable though, enough to reach for his hand and pull him closer, enough to ask him, “Do you want me to take this off?”

“God yes,” he answers nearly before you even finished talking, his words more like a sigh as he straddles your legs and drops to hover above you. Your fingers play with the edge of the towel, less so to tease him and more so to give yourself more time before he sees you naked. You’re not shy about your body but you feel shy with him for some reason, so you push it down slowly, baring your breasts to him inch by inch.

He sucks in a sharp gasp through his teeth as you reveal yourself. His eyes go heavy-lidded and hot on you and he doesn’t look away, his gaze laser-focused and his hands clenched into fists next to your head. He stares, saying and doing nothing long enough that you start to squirm under his attention.

“You can touch her,” San reminds him. He says it loudly enough that Yeosang turns to level a look at him, making San mime zipping his mouth shut and locking it with a key. He even tosses the key at Yeosang, who catches and offers it to you.

“Why thank you, been looking for this thing for ages,” you beam, sliding the imaginary key under the part of the towel still covering you, much to San’s obvious displeasure.

The little moment between the three of you breaks up the tension, allowing Yeosang to feel comfortable enough to shift his weight onto one hand and bring the other up to cover your breast. He keeps it light, squeezes just enough to feel the weight of you in his palm, but he’s already thinking about getting his mouth on you, getting his teeth on you. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you shiver, your flesh rippling under his hand in the most entrancing way.

He didn’t expect to like teasing you but he does, likes moving to the other side just when you’re starting to settle down, likes grazing his nails over your sensitive skin and making you shiver, likes pulling and rolling and twisting your nipples until you’re moaning and arching into his touch. It isn’t long before his hands aren’t enough, and he’s barely able to ask if he can use his mouth before you’re whining, “Yes, yes, yes!” and sinking your fingers into his hair.

You taste so good, so fresh and clean after your shower, Yeosang can’t get enough. He sucks, nibbles, licks his way from side to side, never settling on one spot for too long. His teeth don’t ever sink in enough to leave a lasting bruise; he wishes he could mark you but rules are rules, and Yeosang loves rules, so this isn’t one he’ll break. He’s content enough to cover every square inch of your chest in kisses, trailing them down your stomach and over your hip bones.

“Can I eat you out? Please?” Yeosang nearly begs, hoping you and San will say yes but unsure as this hadn’t been covered in the pre-sex negotiations.

You’re already nodding, but it must occur to you to ask San too as your eyes find his. He giggles at the look on your face, your lips pouted and trembling and your eyebrows screwed up as you silently plead with San.

“Yes, okay, fine!” San exclaims, throwing his hands up as if he can no longer stand to look at your puppy dog eyes.

But Yeosang doesn’t want to overstep any bounds, won’t risk this friendship just for some oral (even if he really wants to go down on you, like A Lot), so he says, “San, if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t.”

“No, it’s just,” he sighs, “It’s really nice and I’m scared you’ll like it too much.”

He likes oral, but he's never liked it too much.

It’s a little nerve wracking to watch you push the rest of the towel away, fully baring yourself to him. He’s sure you’re the more nervous one here, but this still feels like an important moment in your friendship and Yeosang can’t help but lean down and kiss you, just a simple, gentle kiss in thanks. For your vulnerability, for your candor, for your careful way of handling him. He’s just thankful to you.

He’s even more thankful when he shoulders your thighs apart and licks into you for the first time. You taste… exquisite? Divine? Like all of the heavens concentrated into one being? Now he gets why San was so worried, because he’s already addicted. You’re wet, so fucking wet, that all he needs to do is glide his tongue through your folds to smear it all over. He likes it messy, contrary to his reserved nature, so he lets himself lose a bit of technique to get as much of you in, on, and around his mouth as he can.

“She likes when you go inside,” San offers, but Yeosang wants to find his own way, so he grunts in acknowledgement and continues to devour you as he pleases. You’d both said this is for him, he can afford to be a bit selfish.

You don’t seem to mind, if the way you’re writhing and whining says anything. To Yeosang, it says everything, though he’ll need to hold your hips down if he wants to keep going. Eventually, he does decide to slide his tongue inside you, just because you were starting to sound like you might cry, and when he does it’s mind blowing. The taste of you is so much more rich here and there’s so much of your slick seeping out that he can just drink you right down. It’s glorious, you’re glorious, and he’s desperate to make you cum.

He fucks you with his tongue, pushes it in and out of your entrance and shifts a thumb down from your hip to rub circles over your clit. He experiments until he finds the pressure and motion you like and from there, it’s easy. Easy to let his groans vibrate into you, to reach up and put one of your hands back in his hair, to let you guide him. Easy to slip one, then two fingers in alongside his tongue. Easy to curl them up, hook them inside, spread you open and get right at your g-spot.

“Can you squirt?” He slurs, his heart in his throat and his voice reflecting it. He almost doesn’t sound like himself, his voice so deep it rumbles in his chest and his words flowing together. His fingers are still pistoning in and out of you so you can’t answer, but San does, thankfully.

“Yeah, she can. If you just-,”

“Perfect.”

Yeosang doubles his efforts, sinks another finger inside and moves his tongue up to your clit, pushing at it in pulses as he wraps his lips around it and sucks. He gets a bit rougher and faster with his fingers, fucking you like he means it, and your whines get higher and higher and higher until you’re keening, bucking up against the arm laid over your hips. It won’t be long now, he knows, until you’re flooding him with your wetness and (hopefully) crying your way through an orgasm.

They don’t always happen together, but he wants to make them happen together for you, so he makes sure to focus on your clit even as he fingerfucks you into oblivion. You like it, he thinks, love it maybe, and soon enough, your pussy is clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside, so insanely tight that he thinks he’ll die when he gets his dick inside of you. You cry out, broken and pleasure-soaked, when you cum. Your clit beats like a tiny little heart and your walls undulate around his fingers as slick gushes out of you in spurts. It’s perfect, you’re perfect, and he’s already mourning the fact that he’ll never get to do this again.

Once his neck and chest are covered in you, he finishes helping you through your orgasm and lets up. He would push for another but he doesn’t want to be greedy, so he gently places your legs back down on the bed and shakily sits up. You’re still panting, your lashes wet and your mouth open, and fuck if you aren’t the prettiest thing Yeosang has ever seen. The haze in your eyes clears up, your gaze finds his, and it’s two seconds of silence before you’re both giggling your hearts out. There’s something funny about making one of your best friends squirt, and it’s even funnier when it’s your best friend’s girlfriend too.

“Have fun?” San’s voice breaks up your laughter, his jealousy evident though his restraint is too. Yeosang imagines this must be incredibly difficult for him, and once again he’s struck with the desire to thank you both. Who else can say they have friends like this? Friends who let him into their bed, who share themselves with him, who take care of him. Yeosang is so lucky, so insanely lucky, to have you two.

“I love you guys,” Yeosang sighs, and it seems San can’t hold onto his annoyance in the face of his affection because his frown becomes a grin that dimples his cheeks and brightens his eyes. You’re looking similarly fond, your smile sweet and your hands gentle when they pull him to you so you can place a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you too, Yeo,” You and San repeat in unison, on the same page in this as in almost everything.

Yeosang doesn’t know what will happen after tonight but he’s secure in the knowledge that this won’t do anything but bring the three of you closer. He thinks.

He doesn’t have long to linger on the thoughts, your hands coming to rest on his stomach and your nails dragging down to catch at his boxers. He’s ridiculously hard, doesn’t need any of the preparation you’re offering, might even cum if you touch him, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get your hands on him tonight. He nods when you ask if you can take his boxers off, tries to quiet the racing of his heart as you slowly pull them down. His dick bounces up and against his stomach, smearing precum on his abs before it bobs down heavily. He’s big, he knows, and the three fingers he’d given you should be enough, but he’s considering offering a fourth when he takes notice of the look in your eyes.

You look like you’re not scared at all, like this is a walk in the park or a day at the beach, and it’s so fucking sexy that Yeosang just knows he can’t let you touch him too much or he’ll blow. You can touch him a little though, he decides, taking your hand when you hesitate and bringing it to rest on his cock. Your hand is smaller than his, warmer and softer too, and it feels miles better than his own. You definitely know what you’re doing, starting to stroke him and running your thumb up and down the frenulum and over the head, a combination that already has Yeosang seeing stars. He wishes he could let you keep going but he’ll cum if he doesn’t stop you, is even a bit nervous that he’ll cum the second he slides inside of you, but that’s a risk he’s dying to take.

His hand covers yours, squeezing down hard at the base to stave off the orgasm, as he whispers, “Stop, stop, stop, I’ll cum.”

You smile proudly, wiggling your hand out from under his to grab the condom at his side and hold it out. For some reason, opening the wrapper and rolling it on feels momentous, like this is the point of no return. Which is ridiculous because you’ve already done all sorts of things friends don’t do, and because he knows he could stop anytime he wants. The problem is that he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t ever want to stop, but as he folds your legs up and glides the covered head of his cock over your clit, he decides that’s a problem for future Yeosang.

Present Yeosang is preoccupied, mesmerized by how his dick covers the whole of your pussy. He could stare for days, months, years, but you wriggle beneath him in impatience so he lines himself up and starts to slowly push in. Your cunt sucks him in, your walls contracting over and over until he bottoms out with a strangled moan.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” He can hear San say somewhere in the background, but his head is swimming at the pressure of you around him and he can’t summon the words to respond. You are perfect, though, your cunt is perfect, and welcoming, and wet as all fuck, and he wishes he could make a home here inside of you but he knows he can’t, so he pulls back and pumps into you again. He starts slow, doesn’t go as rough as he usually likes to but you get impatient fast, wrapping your arms around his neck whispering, “Harder, harder, please,” until he decides to give you what you want.

He pounds into you, slamming in and out and groaning as he feels your pussy get tighter and tighter around him. He thinks you might already be close, knows that as soon as you cum, he will too and this will all be over, so he breathlessly asks, “Will you ride me? I wanna see you,” pulling out and clumsily switching places with you when your eyes grow bright and you happily sigh, “Yes!”

His view as you climb on top of him is immaculate, your body all stretched out over his and your tits sitting perfectly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, watching the bashful grin rise on your face and catching San’s nod in his peripheral vision. He’s also got his lips pursed and his knees bouncing, and Yeosang feels a little bad that he’s taking such advantage of the situation. San gets you all the time though, practically whenever he wants, so Yeosang feels he’s allowed to be a bit selfish just this once.

He holds his dick up as you lower yourself onto him, swallowing him again in your blinding heat and making his head spin. You resume the quick pace, slamming yourself down on him over and over, and all Yeosang can do is lay there and take it. Well, he could grab your hips and fuck up into you but he’s enjoying being fucked too much to change anything about this. He’s always been the one doing the work in sex and it’s so unbelievably wonderful to just let you take him.

You like it too, might even love it, he thinks. You’re making the sweetest sounds, your moans and whimpers and sighs intoxicating to him. You feel so much tighter around him like this, too, and he feels like he’s even deeper than he was before, your ass smacking against his balls with every thrust. He’s getting close, he’s getting so fucking close, and he knows he can’t cum inside you but he doesn’t want to cum in the condom either, but you hadn’t discussed where he could cum if not in the condom, and suddenly Yeosang is right there on the edge with no idea what to do.

“San, I’m gonna cum. What do I-,”

“In my mouth, Yeo. Cum in my mouth,” you interject, climbing off of him and stopping his orgasm in its tracks. He grips the base of his cock and peels off the condom as San takes you by the ankles, flips you onto your stomach, and drags you to lay horizontally on the bed.

“Want me now or want me to wait, baby?” San asks you, one hand on your back and one on his dick.

“Now, Sannie, I want you now,” you respond, your voice shot and your eyes teary as you turn to watch him line himself up and slide home. You whine his name and the sound soothes him, settles the simmering jealousy in his stomach and replaces it with heat, which only grows as he feels you adjust to him. He must be a bit bigger than Yeosang and that calms him a little bit more, even though he knows it shouldn’t.

Poor Yeosang still hasn’t cum so San beckons him forward, ignoring how weird it feels to be interacting with his best friend while he’s fucking his girlfriend. Yeosang shuffles closer to you on unsteady feet, his eyes dark as he watches his dick disappear in your mouth. You’re so fucking good at sucking dick he’s almost jealous it’s not him in your throat right now, but he knows he’s got the better end of the deal, getting to fuck you raw and cum inside you. Getting to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning. Getting to go grocery shopping with you and brush his teeth next to you and take you on dates. Getting to love you. Nothing could be better than his life with you, and thinking about it has him on the verge of tears and on the edge of cumming.

He normally lasts longer but he’s had to watch you get pleasured for an hour while having nothing to do with it, he thinks he can cut himself a little slack. It would be kind of beautiful and poetic if you could all cum together, so he slips one hand between your thighs and strums your clit in the way that makes you go fucking crazy, and fucking crazy you go. Your cunt seizes up around him, your back arching further and your thighs shaking. You’d be shouting if you didn’t have Yeosang’s dick in your mouth and though he misses your noises, he’s happy that Yeosang is having such a good time.

It’s obvious he’s close again, his eyes screwed shut and his breathing labored, and thank fuck he is because San is cumming, fuck, he’s cumming, and you are too. Your pussy clenches around him in pulses, milking his cock and sucking his cum in deeper and deeper until he has nothing left to give. His head swims and through the haze, he can hear Yeosang swearing and groaning, hear your name leaving his lips, and San would be lying if he said it didn’t make him cum just a little bit harder.

When your cunt has squeezed the last of his cum out of his dick, San drapes himself over your back, pressing kisses across your shoulders and snaking his arms around your stomach. He always feels so cuddly after sex and he knows the comfort is good for you too, so he stays as he is even as Yeosang pulls out and drops to his knees to press a kiss to your lips. That’s something San always does after you suck him off and he’s happy it seems to be an instinct for his best friend as well.

San wants to let you and Yeosang have your time so he peels himself off your back and stands, lumbering over to the bathroom to get a warm, damp washcloth to clean you up. You may want a shower later and he knows you’ll want to brush your teeth, but this will do for now.

When he re-enters the bedroom, Yeosang is laying on his back with you snuggled up against his shoulder. You’re talking quietly with each other, giggling like friends do at a sleepover, and San feels his heart grow five times bigger. He squeezes Yeosang’s free shoulder before he climbs onto the bed and settles in next to you. His hand touches Yeosang’s side when he wraps his arm around you but neither flinch away. They've just been closer to each other than they ever have and ever will be again, a little touching is nothing to them now.

“So… Did it work?” San asks, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his cheek on your arm so he can look at Yeosang.

“Did what work?” Yeosang responds with confusion, having not even a clue what San is talking about.

“We did this so you could work on your confidence, remember? So you can start dating again?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure, for sure,” Yeosang agrees absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the ceiling.

“Good, we just want you to be happy,” you whisper drowsily.

Yeosang doesn’t have the heart to tell either of you that he’s happier now than he’s ever been. And that he’s not sure he really needs to start dating again after all.

"Babe, do you think you could go sleep on the couch? You know I like my snuggle time, and Temi's already there," San whispers in the dark. Yeosang jerks awake, and, affronted, scream-whispers, "I will go home right now if you make her sleep on the couch, you animal."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" San jerks against you, trying to defend himself from Yeosang's swatting arm. All that does is jostle the three of you closer and somewhere, somehow, in the midst of it all, you fall into blissful, sore slumber.

AN: thank you for being born bestie ily more than life itself! i hope this is everything we dreamed of and more 💖 and thank you @petrichor-mingi for beta reading!!!

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bro-atz · 3 months

Text

unrequited love [trope — yunho]

inspired by: operation true love — webtoon + seventeen star show 360 — variety show (+ my brother's love life)

pair: sleazebag!big dick!yunho/afab!reader

word count: 3k

content: angst, smut, unrequited love, infidelity, yunho is kind of a dick, mingi is also kind of a dick, san is the best friend you are ever going to have, public sex, bathroom sex, safe sex, references to drug use, consensual sex

author's note: ngl i felt like such a shitty person writing this one mainly bc i'm using my brother's real life experience for this... nilly i am so so so sorry

trope masterlist

“Yunho, I’m nervous…” you whispered as he whisked you away into the bathroom.

The two of you were at a dive bar with your friends drinking and enjoying your youth when he suddenly told you to come to the bathroom with him because he wanted to fuck. Not once in your entire life had you done anything like this before, nor did you think you were capable of being so bold, but Yunho was an influence.

“Don’t be,” he grunted out as he closed and locked the door.

“But what if people try to come in? What if they need to use the bathroom—”

Yunho cut you off with a rough kiss before speaking lowly, his voice rumbling in his throat as he said, “There’s another bathroom. Panties off. Now.”

Here’s the thing: it’s not that you didn’t want to do it. You wanted to. You loved fucking Yunho because, fuck, he was huge and so skilled. It kind of bummed you out to think about his string of ex-lovers, but at least you got to reap the rewards of his experience. He taught you so many things, one of them being that sex shouldn’t hurt in a way that you don’t want it to, so when he fucked you, it was always brilliant.

It was more about the location of where he was fucking you. A bathroom in a dive bar? Gross. So gross. And the fear of someone walking in on you was an additional factor, but for some reason, that fear also turned you on? A great woman once said that scared is the best way to be horny, so fuck it. Just roll with it. At least the sex would be safe. Yunho always practiced safe sex.

You lifted up your skirt and started pulling down your panties, but Yunho decided you were taking too much time for his impatient ass. He yanked your panties down for you, forcing you to take them off, and he crumpled them up before stuffing them in the pocket in his jeans. You were a little worried about why he did such a thing, but that worry immediately vanished when he lifted your leg up, his hand fitting snugly in the space behind your knee. He pushed you up against the sink and kissed you sloppily, his patience wearing thinner by the second.

He had no patience, but he had to be. He had to loosen you up, make sure you were ready to take him. He shoved two slender fingers into you and spread them wide as he fingered you slowly but roughly. You bit down hard on your knuckle as Yunho continued to prep you for his massive cock, only for Yunho’s mouth to meet yours, distracting your lips with his, your moans with his tongue.

Yunho kept his lips connected to yours when he finally deemed you fit to enter. He skillfully rolled the condom on and thrust sharply into you, your entire body lifting off the sink for a split moment. He continued to ram mercilessly into you, gasps and cries leaving your soul every time he hit your cervix.

“Shh,” Yunho stopped kissing you since, clearly, his mouth was not enough to shut you up. He covered your mouth with his hand and said, “Keep quiet unless you want someone to find out.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you did your best to keep your noises to a minimum, Yunho’s hand assisting in keeping you quiet. But, Yunho with his intense stamina was not letting up, and his strength was making you see white spots. It was when he barely uncovered your mouth were you able to choke out, “C-cumming!”

“Here.” Yunho pulled out and placed his dick right against your folds. His thumb traced rapid circles around your clit as he said in a low voice, “Cum on my cock.”

Which you did. You bit your lower lip and let yourself completely go as you squirted all over his cock, your arousal fluid barely dotting the ground. Without a second to lose, Yunho entered you again, your walls tightening around his length as you still tried to recover from your intense orgasm.

“Shit,” Yunho chuckled. “You got so fucking tight. I’m cumming.”

Thrusting all the way inside you, Yunho filled up his condom, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat as he emptied himself entirely. He stayed in you for a hot second before pulling out and immediately throwing the used condom away. The two of you got situated, and Yunho was about to unlock the door when you stopped him and held out your hand.

“What?”

“My panties, Yunho. You have them.”

Yunho smirked. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, “You don’t need them. Let’s go.”

Before you could protest further, Yunho unlocked the door, and the two of you, completely inconspicuously, left the bathroom. Your face was steaming when you rejoined your group, your legs pressed tightly together and your hands pulling down at your skirt as you sat uncomfortably.

“What was it? Blow?” Mingi asked.

“Something like that,” Yunho chuckled before picking up his beer and tapping his bottle against Mingi’s.

“No wonder Y/N looks all fucked out,” Mingi brought his voice down and whispered more to you than Yunho.

“N-no, it was nothing like that,” you squeaked out, your grip on your skirt tightening.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Mingi responded with a smirk and a wink. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

You were unable to focus on anything for the rest of the night, the horniness and fear pumping through your veins until you got home in the early hours of the morning, Yunho completely sending you home alone sans panties, making you take care of your lust all by yourself.

“You cannot be fucking serious, Y/N— how could you go along with that?!” your friend yelled at you as you recanted your story to him.

The two of you were preparing for a little birthday party— your birthday party— you were throwing on the roof of your apartment complex. He asked you about the guy you were seeing, and when you answered, that was his reaction.

“San, it was fine! I mean, the bathroom grossed me out, but I wanted him to fuck me,” you explained.

“You sure it was consensual?” San pressed further.

“Yes, it was,” you said confidently.

“But then what about your panties? That was totally not consensual,” San huffed out.

“I mean, yeah, sure… But it wasn’t really his fault you know.. He had a lot to drink,” you tried to defend Yunho’s actions— you both were drunk, and he usually wasn’t like that when he was sober, so you wanted to write it off as his drunken self being an idiot.

“Y/N, seriously, you need to get your head checked. You were not cool with that, and it doesn’t matter how many drinks the guy has had! If you ask for your fucking panties back, then you should get them back,” San lectured. “The guy was sober enough to pocket them and tell you he wouldn’t give them back, so you can’t blame the alcohol.”

“San, I get it, you’re worried. But, if I really wanted them back, then I would’ve pushed harder for them.”

“You need to get your head checked. Seriously,” San said, a slight tinge of malice in his voice. “You’ve fucking lost it.”

“That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

“Forget about all of what happened that night. I want to know what the hell your relationship with the guy is. You keep saying that you want a fairytale romance, but so far, I’ve heard more nightmares then dreams coming from your mouth.”

“What do you mean, San? You know everything there is to know about me and my relationship with him.”

“Have you ever had sex with him at your place or his place? You’re always out and about when you have sex with him—”

“We did it at a hotel once.”

“That doesn’t count. Have you even seen his apartment?”

“Well, not yet—“

“Did he get you a gift for your birthday?”

“I don’t know! The party hasn’t even started yet,” you were starting to get annoyed with San’s questions.

“Alright, fine. But what about labels? Are you his girlfriend? Is he your boyfriend?”

“We haven’t really talked about it—”

“Good fucking lord, Y/N! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s going on?” a new voice popped up.

You and San both turned to the stairs to see Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa standing there with a cake, balloons, a bunch of alcohol, and fearful looks on all of their faces.

“Gimme a beer, and you finish the fucking decorations. I can’t with this bitch right now,” San nearly spat out as he dropped the streamers.

You looked at San with a huge frown on your face. Seonghwa replaced the man as San grabbed two beer bottles from Wooyoung and stormed off to a blind spot on the rooftop.

“What is San going on about?” Seonghwa asked you.

Apparently, San could still hear from where he was on the roof (despite the fact that he was out of sight) and yelled, “Tell her that the fucking guy is just using her! He doesn’t give a shit about her!”

“Then why would he practice safe sex with me, huh?! Why would he cater to me before fucking me?! So that I don’t get hurt! Don’t fucking say he doesn’t have feelings for me, you dick!” you got all riled up and started screaming back at your best friend.

“Hey, hey,” Seonghwa put a calming hand on your shoulder, his other hand motioning for you to slow down and take a deep breath. “Don’t let San get to you. You know that he’s only saying these things because he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt. None of us do.”

“Then he should be more supportive of my relationship if he’s such a great friend,” you grumbled. “It’s not like he knows what it’s like to be in a committed relationship.”

“Yes, that may be true, but he knows what men are like. We all do,” Seonghwa continued in his calming voice, but you could read in between the lines.

“You don’t like Yunho either, do you?” you confronted him.

“…I haven’t met the guy yet. Maybe my opinion will change when I meet him.”

“Good. Because he’s coming to the party tonight.”

“Tell him to stay far away from me, then!” San called from afar.

“San! Stay out of it!” Seonghwa lectured the man. “Don’t listen to San, okay? Besides, it’s your birthday. Just have a couple of drinks, eat some cake, and have fun.”

Seonghwa brought you in for a hug, and your irritation slowly melted away simply knowing that you had a friend on your side.

Your friends slowly started arriving for the party once you and your friends (excluding San because he refused to help after finding out Yunho was going to be at the party) finished decorating the roof. You did your best to not let San’s words get to you as you plastered a smile onto your face and greeted all of your friends prettily, but it was only when Yunho arrived did your smile become genuine.

“Yunho!” you said cheerfully.

“Hey, Y/N. Happy birthday,” he greeted while extending his hand, a small gift in his grasp.

“Thank you! Listen, I want to introduce you to my friends,” you held his hand and brought him over to your group— some people from work, some people from the gym, your close friends: Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho— everyone but San. San kept his distance like he said he would

“Nice to meet you guys,” Yunho said, his signature, charming smile shining brilliantly on his face.

You, your friends (again, minus San), and Yunho all drank, sang and danced, cut the cake, opened presents— Yunho got you a cute little necklace with a dangling star— and time just flew by. Soon, it was just you, the helper boys, and Yunho. The helper boys (this time including San because Seonghwa yelled at him to) started cleaning up the roof while you and Yunho stood by the high balcony and admired the view, your shoulder pressed against his arm.

“Hey, what happened to Mingi? I thought you said you were going to bring him?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. He got really wasted last night and hasn’t been able to get out of bed,” Yunho explained. “I just left him at the apartment.”

“Well, then that’s one less thing to worry about,” you let out a little laugh.

“Yeah.”

There was a tiny bit of silence between the two of you. Yunho pulled out his phone and started going through his notifications while you, on the other hand, started thinking about what San said about Yunho never having sex with you in your or his apartment, and you wanted to prove him wrong because there was no way in hell that Yunho didn’t see that you and he were in a relationship. Sure, you only ever fucked in public, but maybe that was his kink, and honestly, it was kind of starting to become yours as well.

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” you started as you tiptoed your fingers up his arm. “Once we finish cleaning up, do you want to spend the night?”

“Oh, sorry. I said I would go to my girlfriend’s place after you finished cleaning up.”

What…?

What?

What?!

“Y-your… Your what?” you looked at Yunho with wide eyes. “I think I must’ve misheard you… Did you say your friend’s place?”

“My girlfriend. I’m going back to her place.”

You laughed. Yunho was probably pulling your leg. He probably meant it in that teasing way— that he was going to go back to his girlfriend’s— your— place after everything was cleaned up. But, when Yunho looked at you in confusion, you stopped laughing.

“Yunho, what do you mean by girlfriend?” you asked him, the air around you starting to get chilly.

“The girl I’ve been seeing,” Yunho replied nonchalantly. “We started going out a week ago.”

“You mean… You’re seeing someone else?”

“Someone else? Y/N, what are you talking about?”

Your jaw dropped. Your braincells were scrambling to come up with some sort of way to figure out what the hell your current situation was, but you were losing it. Yunho confused the complete shit out of you.

“T-then what are we?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed as he faced you.

“I thought we were…” you cleared your throat. “I thought we were dating.”

“You… What?”

“I thought we were in a relationship, Yunho,” you started getting a little confrontational with the guy.

“Why would you think that?”

“I— What?!”

“Y/N, we were just fooling around. I thought you knew that. How could you think we were in a relationship?”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” your voice started to shrill. “You think I would do shit like this with just anyone?!”

“I told you from the very beginning that I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” Yunho explained, his voice calm.

“Oh, but now you are in one, and you didn’t bother to tell me?! And why does she get to be in a relationship with you when you said you weren’t looking for one in the first place?!”

“What is your problem? Why are you getting so upset?”

“Because I love you?!” you looked at Yunho in complete disbelief, your voice officially loud as fuck. “I’m in love with you, Jeong Yunho!”

“Oh…” Yunho looked slightly embarrassed— but he looked more embarrassed for you than of himself based off the look of pity on his face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never had those feelings right from the start.”

You gaped at the tall man. All the words, all the wind, everything got knocked out of your lungs. You were absolutely frozen in space and time as you stared at the man you thought you knew, the man you thought was in a relationship with you, the man you thought was in love with you. You remained standing still as Yunho’s phone rang. He looked at his phone and let out a little sigh before returning to your gaze.

“It’s my girlfriend,” Yunho said, not a single shred of irony or regret in his tone. “I’ll… I’ll see you around, Y/N. Happy birthday.”

And just like that, your “relationship” came to an end, the man leaving you at the balcony as he rushed to go be in the arms of the girl he actually was in a relationship with. You didn’t move a single millimeter even when Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa all approached you, the same painful expressions painted on their face.

Before any of them could touch you, San pushed them aside and grabbed your hand, leading you to some of the ottomans near the lounge chairs. He sat you down and placed a large, warm hand on your back, showing you that he was there for you. Tears pricked your eyes as your best friend continued to comfort you.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“Fuck.”

Hot tears slipped out of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks, but you weren’t crying or sobbing. No, you were letting the anger out in the form of tears. You weren’t sad— you were pissed.

And San knew that, but that didn’t stop him from giving you a hug, the warmth from his embrace dissipating in a heartbeat into the rage burning on your skin.

“I hate to say it…” San whispered. “But I told you so…”

You wanted to punch San, but he was right. He did tell you. So, you let out a sardonic laugh and accepted his hug, your fingers pressing into his muscles as your wild emotions wrecked your brain and your heart.

“Yeah,” you replied bitterly. “You did.”

Some fucking birthday.

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