#what if i do manage to move out what if i do come out and its okay and what if i do get the

[barcaatthemoon]

safe || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia doesn't hear you when you use your safeword.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

alexia's pace was relentless. you could just barely hear her muttering under her breath as she fucked you. every so often you'd hear her speak up, the odd catalan phrase punctuated with forceful thrusts. you were teetering on the edge of an orgasm, but instead of alexia's thrusts getting you closer to your climax, they pushed you away from it.

you tried to move away from alexia a bit, but she didn't give up. you couldn't get even an inch away from her. alexia seemed to chase you down with her thrusts. you couldn't push back against her because you knew that alexia would take that as a sign that you wanted more. your body couldn't even handle what she was giving you, but alexia showed no signs of stopping.

"red." you tried to speak as clearly as you could, but your words came out muffled. alexia was pushing your head down into the pillows as she thrust into you. it was hard, but you managed to push yourself up a bit more. "ale, please."

"that's it baby." it was the first time that you had heard alexia speak english since she started fucking you. usually, that would have been a bit comforting, but she obviously was misunderstanding your tone. she took your desperation for desire, and started to thrust even harder.

"alexia, red!" this time, it was impossible for alexia not to hear you. she practically jumped back to get away from you. once alexia had pulled out of you, you scrambled up towards the pillows and curled into yourself. you felt a bit like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, and a part of you wanted alexia there next to you.

one look at her told you that was not happening. alexia looked absolutely distraught, enough so that it distracted from your own feelings. however, you couldn't bring yourself to comfort her. alexia sat down at the edge of the bed, obviously wanting to check on you, but unable to tear her eyes away from the floor.

"alexia, will you come here please?" you asked her. alexia looked over at you, but didn't move a muscle. you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and crawled across the bed to lay against her. alexia didn't move, as if she was afraid of touching you. "are you okay?"

"i should be asking you that," alexia grumbled. the fear was starting to subside, but you hated what was coming next. alexia was angry, absolutely furious with herself. "i should have been paying attention to you. i should have been listening. why are you being so nice to me?"

"because i love you, and i know that you weren't doing it on purpose," you told her. alexia seemed to accept that. she did everything that you asked her to. the two of you showered together and alexia held you all throughout the night.

alexia had been a distant in the morning, but you hadn't noticed until the two of you got to training. the media team wanted to make a couple of videos about alexia's resigning, so you hadn't thought twice when she left without you. however, it became increasingly obvious that you needed to talk to alexia about the night before as she avoided you throughout the day.

"capi, do you have a minute?" alexia tensed at the sound of your voice, but she couldn't ignore you now. to everybody else, it looked like you had official team business. irene and mapi walked away from alexia, leaving the two of you alone together to talk. "ale, i'm not mad at you about last night."

"well, you should be. i didn't listen when i should have. i violated you," alexia's voice cracked as she whispered the last part. you sighed as you pulled her in for a hug. "i can't even look at myself. i don't know how you can stand to be around me."

"because i love you, and despite what happened last night, you make me feel safe. i know that you didn't do that on purpose. i know that you'd never hurt me any more than i ask you to, and even then, you're hesitant," you told her.

"you feel safe with me?" alexia asked you. your heart broke at the genuine surprise in her voice. there had never been a time when you felt unsafe with alexia nearby. even before your relationship blossomed into what it was, she was always someone you had trusted.

"of course i do. i think that we could do with better communication, but alexia, there is nothing you could do to make me not trust you," you told her. alexia ducked her head down a little and smiled. "i love you."

"i love you too," alexia said as she lifted her head from the crook of your neck. the rest of your practice went by smoothly, both of you glad that alexia had stopped avoiding you. she was a bit more affectionate than normal, almost as if she was trying to make up for the time she had spent distancing herself from you. either way, you weren't going to complain about the extra hugs and kisses you were getting from your girlfriend.

[aajjks]

TEACH ME (m)

synopsis. Teach me.. that’s what he says everytime he’s got his fingers deep inside you.

trope: age gap [10 years] yandere, forbidden relationship and cheating.

warnings. f-ngering, expl-cit themes, pr-fanity, he’s got a filthy mouth, f-rbidden r-lationship [teach-r x st-dent], y-ndere jk, p-sessive beh-viour, j-alousy, ch-ating, m-oning strict 18+ THEMES. MDNÏ.

note. PHEWWWWWW 🫠🫡🥵… YALL….. this is for all the horny girls on my blog. ONLY FOR YOU!! I think this is not gonna be a series but just a one shot and I hope to get it out soon but I wanted to put out a teaser and please talk to him and I just know you’re gonna love him because I know you guys have some fucked up fantasies. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS. I LOVE READING YOUR THOUGHTS AND YOUR ASKS also YALL the colored gradient text looks so pretty 🥹🥹🥹

note 2.0. This is strictly for 18+ so please do not interact if you’re underage. [TEASER]

If you wanna be tagged, please reply under this post x

“Hahaha what??”

Jungkook walks to your figure, you’re standing behind your desk, your back leaning against the blackboard, he knows you’ve said something really important right now but…

How the fuck is he supposed to take you seriously when your tits are practically popping out of your right dress shirt? Or the pencil skirt that is clinging onto your ass like second skin?

Goodness you’re so fucking hot, his cock is practically pulsing inside his underwear.

“Ms yn… what?” He manages to say, now towering over your smaller figure, you glare at him, swear tickling down your forehead.

“It’s Mrs Jeong for you!”

“Ms yn…. No.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between you two, there’s no one in this empty university hallway, your door is closed,

Jungkooks eyes are set on you like a predator and the way your breathing is irregular suddenly, makes him feel superior to you despite your age difference of 10 years.

“Sorry that’s almost sounds like you said Mrs Jeon…. Haha… so similar won’t you agree?” His chest is now touching yours, his eyes contain a carnal hunger for you.

“I’m sorry but that can’t happen, yn.” He tsks, feigning disappointment, like he’s sympathizing with you, but you know better.

Jungkook knows that you know him better than anyone.

You know him so deeply and so intimately.

Jungkook forces his knee between your legs, spreading them, you gasp, he smirks.

“How dare you try to abandon me huh? I don’t give a fuck- NO JUNGKOOK YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I-I CANT COMPROMISE- shhh.” He presses his finger on your tinted lips.

He guides his hand down your panties, playing with the hem of it, “n-no jungkook please don’t-“” jungkook doesn’t stop, “listen yn- or Mrs Jeong.” He grits his teeth while spitting your last name out,

“I don’t give a FUCK ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC HUSBAND! OR YOUR SHAM OF A MARRIAGE!” He seethes,

“How pathetic you are huh?” he bites his tongue before speaking. “You sleep on that very bed with your stupid husband where I’ve made you cum so many fuckin times huh?” He tugs your panties down roughly.

You need a reminder of who you belong to, and he will gladly do it right here in this classroom.

“J-JUNGKOOK What are you doing?” You stutter, he rolls his eyes.

You know damn well what he’s doing. “Oh ms yn. You should know damn well and what I’m doing. Because your body knows it.” He smiles, almost cruelly at you.

He starts to tease your wet pooling heat, his fingers skilled as he starts to move them around your clit.

“nghh nooo..” you can’t even hold your moans at this point. He gets your sexual frustration. Your pathetic excuse of husband can never please you.

Your brain & your heart, and especially your pussy are currently fighting with each other right now disagreeing with what you really want and what you should do.

arguing with you between what’s wrong and what’s right.

“Oh come on ms yn- you’re soaking wet for me..” he plunges his fingers inside your inviting cunt.

“Oh yes moan for me…” he groans, whispering in your ear.

Your eyes are at the verge of rolling back he fucks you with his calloused fingers. “Divorce the bastard and I’ll let you cum.”

He pumps them in and out of you- teasing you.

Jungkook licks the side of your neck, grunting in your ear.

“If you won’t divorce him I’ll murder him and then fuck you right infront of his rotting corpse.”

[ivyppoison]

LOVE POTIONS

pairing : jason todd ⠀𝒙⠀ fem!reader

summary : where play fighting with jason ends with his face between your thighs.

𐙚 warnings : derogatory language, smut, oral [ f. receiving ]

words : 0.835k

note. I reverted back to my old fic setup because I felt that the new one was too much.

#. main masterlist. | dc masterlist. | jason todd masterlist.

OCCASIONALLY, YOU FORCED yourself to stay awake until Jason returned from his mundane nights on patrol. The window was still open, your favourite pair of lace curtains dancing in the breeze.

Your gaze was focused on the dim floor of your phone in front of you as Jason exited the bathroom with an audible sigh. The soft flick of the lights left only the lamp on your bedside table emitting the bedroom.

Without looking at him, you opened your arms so that he could lay in the comfort of your body, your free hand running through the silken strands of his damp hair.

“What are you doing?” He mumbled, resting his body weight on yours, inhibiting your ability to escape from underneath him.

“‘m texting Barbs,” you replied, the sound of your fingers clicking against the screen ringing quietly through the room.

“About what?” He asked, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch.

“Nothing much honestly,” you answered,

“Are you talkin’ shit about me?” He questioned, turning his body to lock his gaze with yours.

“Maybe,” you teased bashfully, letting out a small laugh as he raised his eyebrow in raw curiosity

“Let me see,” he commented, gesturing for you to hand him the phone.

You shook your hand, as you held it away from him, watching as he let out a sigh.

“Come here,” he huffed, grabbing your waist as he reached for the phone.

You resisted his hold, attempting to keep it away from him, however he managed to snatch it from your grip, desperate to look at the messages between the two of you.

Launching your body at him, you latched to his, reaching out for the phone before he pushed you over, throwing the phone on to the silken sheets of the bed.

“Don’t,” you warned, pointing your finger at him as he looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Trickled laughter echoed through the room as he moved his hands towards your torso as he began to tickle at your sides.

“Stop, please ──,” you laughed, hitting him on the chest as you begged him, his hands moving to hold your wrists above your head with his hand. “Let go of me,” you giggled.

A gasp escaped your lips as his free hand moved towards your inner thighs, his nimble fingers grazing atop the sensitive skin inches away from your wet heat.

“This is so unfair,” you mumbled, his thumb ghosting over your folds through the fabric of your panties.

“Why?” Jason asked, practically teasing your bud through the comfort of your underwear with his fingers as he stared down at you.

Shaking your head as you refused to answer him, you placed your hands over your eyes whilst you could feel his hand play with your dripping pussy.

“Tell me,” he encouraged.

“Because I need you,” you huffed, closing your eyes as you felt his fingers hook the lace, pulling your panties down before lifting your leg up slightly, lungs heaving.

“‘you okay?” He asked, moving down the curves of your body as he pressed a kiss to your stomach, watching you with a hypnotic expression.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you huffed, a small smile on your face before the pleasure of his lips against your puffy folds tore a lewd whimper out of your throat. Using his tongue to lap at your soaked cunt, your fingers intertwined with the strands of his hair once more, pulling them gently to resolve the remaining friction you still needed to send you overboard.

What sent you into a state of bliss was when he looked up at you with those drunken and dazed hazel eyes of his. He was eager to taste you, begging to consume you whole.

Drunk and poisoned with the bittersweet taste of you.

The way he licked at your heat emitted butterflies at the pit of your stomach. Hunger resided within him like a cannibal in heat, his breath becoming more ragged as you let out a silent-cry. He mumbled something inaudible against the swollen lips of your cunt, the vibrations causing a shiver to run down your spine, arching your back as you neared your release.

“Fuck ──,” you whispered, the sound of your voice a mellifluous noise to his ears. “I’m gonna fucking cum, baby.”

“Go on, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his lips parted as he continued to lap at your soaked folds, your legs giving out as you became faint underneath his touch.

Jason sucked and licked at your cunt, nipping gently at the bundle of your delicate nerves as you reached your climax.

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your thigh as you threw your head back in ecstasy, breathless moans strangled by the pleasure, tears rolling down your cheek in a lustful mess.

“Still fucking needy?” He asked, watching you nod as you locked eyes with him, his lips meeting yours as you tasted your slick in his mouth.

“Let me give you what you need.”

[anchoeritic]

sweet cherry chapstick

pairing toxic!ellie + fem!reader

synopsis finding yourself in another late night "talk" with ellie, she reminds you of her jealousy and you can't help but counter it.

warnings eighteen plus content / minors do not interact. reader & ellie switch, cursing, dirty talk, dry humping, jealous/toxic ellie, possessive ish reader, rubbing through panties.

"feel like you're doin' this on purpose. you like makin' me watch you flirt with other girls, baby?"

she didn't seem to let a word escape from you, only wanting to hear those sweet noises you seemed to make when you rocked back and forth against her thigh.

the waxy, delicate taste of your own cherry chapstick coated your tongue, as did hers. ellie groaning at the sweetness, brushing her nose against yours.

using the hoops of your jeans to pull you deeper into a kiss, making sure you don’t catch a single breath between. her kisses rough, hungry to taste more of you. it doesn’t help how your hips already have a mind of their own, grinding down on her lap.

why was it that she always caught you in such a predicament? always in a time of need. something desperate of the sort. there was no denying of the heat pooling between your thighs just feeling her lips on yours. it didn't help that she could feel it too.

"been watchin' you for so long. can't keep you away anymore" you can hear her barely mumble out, lips trailing down your jaw. she watched as you let out a couple more moans, continuing to kiss along your jaw.

her hand found its way to the base of your ass, guiding you to rock faster against her, only making your whines grow louder. needier.

"do you even deserve to feel good, do you really think so?" you can feel her fingers creeping down your jeans, wrapping themselves along the lace of your panties. "I know you like me watchin'."

the reality is, you do. everything you do is for her entertainment. you know she watches your every move. your every kiss.. but you knew she would always end up taking it up with you. that's why you do what you do.

she finds it amusing. thinks it's cute that you're trying to get her jealous because, the fact is, she knows there's no one you'd ever want but her.

there was no one else you needed more than ellie.

"don't act like you don't do the same to me, williams." you managed to whisper, keeping your head tilted up so her kisses travel along your neck. "see you kissing those girls. I'd say that's worse than me flirting with them, hm?"

you could feel her grip on your panties tighten, pulling the lace off your skin just to let it sling back on your skin. a hiss was heard from you. the sting was as unexpected as her reaction to your mockery of her.

"what i do isn't your concern, sweetheart," ellie hummed against your skin, "but what you do is mine because you are mine."

the kisses are intoxicating, the reek of marijuana coming off from her clothes as they were slowly discarded from the scene, thrown off to the side.

but you were next; your shirt was pulled off your body, pants coming in just at second, the two of you making out under the moonlight in just your lacy undergarments.

"that's my girl.." you could hear her muffled moans in between your kisses, her quiet words of reassurances were enough to send shivers down your spine.

"god, just fucking kiss me," you mumbled out.

she gripped at your ass again, holding onto a thigh to wrap it around her hip. "so impatient already, baby?"

"c'mere, pretty. you loved to tease me, now you owe me." you felt your cheeks grow hot at her words. still straddling her hips, your hands cupped her cheeks firmly.

her eyes were droopy, soft. tired. she was on the high of marijuana and lust, that was no kidding.

With the grind of her hips, she started to rock against your lap, hiding your moans with her mouth.

Not many sounds were heard except for the creaks of your bed and the occasional breaths Ellie took every few seconds. Sweat beaded down her forehead, the ache between her legs bothering her just as much as yours did.

She couldn't ignore it anymore

“fuck, i need to feel you now,” she pulls away for another breath, pressing her forehead against yours. the bed had stopped creaking, the only sounds heard were your heavy pants.

it took her by surprise when you quickly understood her, towering over top of her body, sitting tall on her lap with a shy smile along your lips.

ellie never understood how your lips still looked inviting with lipstick smeared all over your face. you could say the same about her: the same lipstick marks on you matched hers.

spreading her legs a little wider, you cupped over her warm cunt softly, earning a quiet mumble from her. “don’t get used to this…” she whispered, putting her arms behind her neck as a headrest.

your hand presses harder against her, making sure your fingers apply pressure especially. "why can't i? you seem to be enjoying yourself, honey."

"bet your other girls don't touch you like i do, do they?" you teased her, speeding up the pace of your rubbing. "they don't touch you like i do because they aren't me"

moaning, she wraps her hands around your wrist trying to slow you down. only making you go faster against her.

you could feel the wetness of her boxers coating your fingers, the smell of her arousal getting you worked up.

"I know I'm the one you think of when you touch yourself. every night before you fall asleep, I'm what you think about." you could feel her getting closer to the edge.

"even when you fall asleep," you quickened your pace, keeping eye contact with her, "i'm your wet dream."

she's gasping for air this point. "fuck," thighs shaking around your hand, trying to fight against the edge you're bringing her to. her whines of your name making your smirk grow.

moving your face closer to hers, your lips brush against her cheek. kissing the soft skin just beside her lips, tasting the same cherry chapstick once again.

"and you're all mine."

[coffe-and-tea-time]

HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE

…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-

I call dibs on the dilf then

No, back off, he's mine🤺

Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)

TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)

“ugh… What time is it?”

You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets…  still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?

You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.

"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"

You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground? 

You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street. 

The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight. 

The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.

This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling. 

What can you do to return to your home? 

You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.

You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.

"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"

You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.

And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds. 

That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness. 

You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.

You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.

You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.

What in the world is going on?

Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build… 

Wait, what?

Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.

You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.

“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”

You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.

You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.

You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.

“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”

You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.

As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.

He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…

For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.

The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[naughtyjjk]

testing nanami kento’s self-control

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, riding, cock tease, edging, orgasm denial, begging, creampie notes: it's just so hot to see a man who's always composed start to break down hehe

whenever nanami comes home, his suit and tie are always in pristine condition, even after a long day of work. there’s never a strand of hair out of place or a speck of dust to be found anywhere. that’s just how he is—precise and focused and meticulous, almost to a fault.

even when you’re undressing him, kissing him, bringing your bodies together, he still manages to be so put together that it’s honestly a little frustrating. it makes you want to tease him to the point of torture and go slow enough that he falls apart. so slow that he begs.

you want to see him lose control. you want to ruin him.

pushing nanami down on the bed, you climb on top of him and grab the lube, slicking his cock with a few strokes. he’s already so hard, flushed red and throbbing in your grasp, desperate for more. when he bucks his hips to try and fuck himself in your fist, you let go completely and tsk at him.

“don’t move,” you say, coaxing him. “let me take care of you today.”

sighing, nanami lies back down, hips going still. you shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. this goes on for agonizingly long as you tease the both of you, feeling his hard cockhead poking at your entrance.

you push down a little, applying the slightest of pressure, and hold it there until you hear nanami groan, his cock twitching with arousal. he’s looking at you with lidded eyes, expression dark and hungry. “darling…”

but you only grin and move again, this time almost allowing his cock to slip inside you. almost. so close, but not quite there. you drag the head past your entrance, dipping barely inside, before you lift your hips again. nanami’s breath hitches, chest heaving. he swallows thickly, arms tense by his side, fighting against his instincts to keep himself still.

“ah—f-fuck—”

leaning forward to kiss him, you catch his bottom lip and flick your tongue over it. meanwhile, you spread your legs a bit wider and finally, finally sink down so that the very tip nudges inside you. only the tip. nanami is moaning your name in broken pieces, mixed in with a few curses and whimpers.

then you stop. again.

nanami groans in frustration and his hips jerk up involuntarily, but you were expecting it. you move with him, keeping just the tip of his cock in you, maintaining the position and refusing to let him go any deeper.

“wh-what did i do to deserve this teasing?” nanami asks, looking like he’s about to lose it.

you lick your lips and reply honestly, “you’re always so composed, kento. i want to make you desperate for it, see you completely wrecked for me.”

for a few more seconds, you stay in the same position, unmoving. the stretch of his cock is nice; he’s hardly even really inside you yet, but your pussy is already adjusting to his size, opening up for him. it’s so tempting to take all of him like you’ve done many times in the past, to ride him and bring him straight to the edge. but no. not yet. you have a plan to follow through.

lowering your hips just the slightest, you sink down further, taking more of his cockhead until the crown is almost fully inside. you can feel him throbbing against your walls, wanting more but never getting it.

nanami lets out a broken moan, breath stuttering. “you’re being cruel. how long are you going to make me wait?”

“that,” you say, “depends on how long you can hold out.”

as if to punish him, you raise your hips again, smiling wickedly as you pull away until all of him is resting outside your entrance again. it’s hard for you, too; you miss the feeling of having him inside. but you remind yourself that you’re going slow, as slow as you possibly can. slow so that you can watch nanami break.

nanami groans, low and needy. his hands clench and unclench the bedsheets by his sides. “fuck.”

without warning, you drop down again suddenly, less than an inch just so that you have the tip of his cock in you again. nanami gasps, throwing his head back against the pillow. you take in all the sensations: the messy feeling of lube and precum, the way nanami’s hard cock twitches with desire. how he’s struggling and using every ounce of his willpower to not buck up and thrust into you.

“good boy,” you lean in to whisper right by nanami’s ear, watching with delight as he shudders in response. he’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tensed up.

you keep him there inside you for what seems like forever. every tiny shift of movement is agonizing and extra sensitive, sending waves of pleasure from where you two connect to the rest of your body. you can tell that nanami also feels it, by the way he’s losing control more and more with each passing second.

and that’s exactly what you want. it’s working. you’re going to break him down piece by piece until he’s nothing but a shaking, writhing, horny mess beneath you.

it’s such a fucking turn on to see nanami’s self-control slipping, breaths growing ragged, waiting in anticipation for whatever you’re willing to give him next. it’s getting hard for you to hold back as well. you let just a tiny bit more of nanami’s cock into your pussy so that all of the head is nestled inside and then you start the shallowest, most torturously slow rhythm you’ve ever done in your life. hardly moving at all, the most miniscule rolls of your hips to take only the tip of his cock over and over again.

up… and down…

up… and down…

“o-oh god,” nanami curses, and he can’t help rocking his hips to follow your rhythm, matching your pace. he knows better now than to try for anything more, knows that you could take it all away from him at any moment.

each time his cock nudges its way back inside you, your pussy clenches around him. tight, like it doesn’t want to let him go. and nanami moans, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, wishing that he could feel your warmth along the rest of his neglected shaft, too.

he looks delirious now, so fucking aroused with his mouth parted and his eyes hazy and unfocused. his cock throbs and pulses inside you, making him dizzy with pleasure. the shallow thrusts are getting to him, slowly but surely, the sensation building up in tingling layers, bringing him closer to the edge.

honestly, you’re teasing yourself as just much as you’re teasing nanami. with only short strokes of his cock that barely manage to penetrate you, you feel empty, craving for him to hit your deepest parts. on one hand, it’s so fucking hot to drag it out like this, so arousing to see nanami at your mercy. on the other hand, you’re reaching your limit, too.

“beg,” you say. “tell me how badly you need it. let me hear you beg, kento.”

there seems to be an internal battle going on within nanami as he grits his teeth, trying to resist. but it’s futile; you simply keep moving your hips in that slow, steady rhythm until it becomes unbearable and nanami gives in embarrassingly fast, mind clouded with lust.

“hah—p-please, i can’t—fuck, please—”

“mm,” you consider his words. “please what?”

nanami chokes out a moan. “i wanna fuck you—ah, please, your pussy—” he looks at his aching cock, the precum spilling down the sides, the way his cockhead disappears into you. “let me come—i-i need—” then he gasps, “oh shit—”

it’s beyond arousing to hear him like this. in that moment, you don’t let him finish his sentence as something snaps within you and you give in to your own desires. your hips slam down on him without warning, burying all of his cock inside you in a single, rapid movement.

an intense wave of pleasure rushes through both of you, every nerve ending igniting at once. you moan, overwhelmed. you’re filled so deep and so fast that it takes a second for you to return to your senses. and nanami—fuck, the sound he makes, low and guttural, a stuttering, broken moan that should be illegal. his abdomen clenches, thighs shaking. it’s only one full thrust, but you can tell that he almost came right then and there.

“fuck.” his voice sounds destroyed, fucked out. chest heaving, he wants so badly to buck his hips into you until he’s spilling his release into you. it won’t take much more to get him there. but he very carefully doesn’t move, still following your orders, still being good.

“k-kento,” you whine, staying there, the sensation of his cock pulsing and splitting you open driving you dangerously close to orgasm as well. you don’t dare to move until the pleasure simmers down into something more manageable, until you’re sure that you’ve fallen away from the edge.

that’s when you draw your hips up again. still going slow, so fucking slow that it almost breaks you—but it breaks nanami too, and that’s what you’re aiming for.

by this point, nanami’s composure has completely crumbled. he’s resigned himself to the torture as you restart the aching, brutally slow thrusts. the tip of his cock dips into you, as far as the crown of his cockhead, and then pulls out almost all the way. again and again and again.

you’re dripping wet, the teasing against your pussy reaching an unbearable degree. there’s nothing you want more than to take nanami fast and deep, to feel him hitting your most sensitive spots instead of just playing with the entrance. but you almost have nanami where you want him and you’re betting on him to give in first.

“please—ah, m-more—” nanami cries out, breathy and horny and frustrated, trembling from the effort of holding himself back.

you keep the same pace, not giving him what he wants. keeping him just on the edge of satisfaction, waiting him out. and it’s infinitely worse now that you’ve both had a taste of what you could be getting instead.

your hips move up. then down.

then up again.

the crown of his cockhead catches and releases from your pussy, delicious friction causing your head to spin. nanami’s neck is arched, looking at you with narrow eyes, aroused beyond his limits.

“f-fuck, fuck,” he rambles nonsensically, body so tense. “please—let me—i’m—i need—let me inside you—i c-can’t take it anymore—”

“just a little longer,” you tell him, and nanami groans. “you can hold out for a few more minutes, can’t you? be a good boy for me.”

those words make a desperate, wrecked sound escape from his lips and his self-control is slipping, slipping, slipping. he’s turning wild under you now, squirming, writhing, frenzied and starved for his release. your own willpower is dissolving at the sight of nanami’s desperation.

your hips descend on his cock again, clenching tight around the tip. nanami sucks in a sharp breath.

up, agonizingly slow, leaving him throbbing at the loss of contact. this time, you let out a moan, feeling so empty. god, it’s not enough for you either, not nearly fucking enough.

“need you—n-need to feel you,” nanami pleads, whimpering, chanting your name over and over. “please, please, i’m close—fuck, i’m so—”

he’s panting, cock twitching madly, and this —this is exactly what you had been waiting for the whole time: nanami completely ruined, nanami undone by your actions, nanami looking at you with pure hunger and lust, overtaken by arousal. he seems to be right on the edge of pleasure, so close to tipping over, body burning with an orgasm held at bay. you’re sure that when you finally allow him to come, it’ll be ecstasy like he’s never felt before, coming harder than he ever has in his life.

and that’s the end of your limits. you can’t deny either of you any longer.

you slam your hips down all at once, plunging nanami’s hard, aching cock inside you.

“ah—!”

“f-fuuuck—”   

nanami moans, loud and guttural and absolutely wrecked. it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. his cock splits you open, so hard and thick, and you fall forward on his chest as your pussy spasms around him.

the sensation is entirely overwhelming, your mind going blank, pleasure jolting along your nerves tenfold, having built up by the teasing and denial.

“o-oh god,” nanami pants. he bends his knees to drive his cock even deeper inside you, and the change in angle makes you fucking delirious. “good, so good—”

you’re all out of patience. there’s no more waiting, no more drawing this out.

looking at nanami, you say, “kento. take what you need. make yourself come.” you swirl your hips in a circular motion, feeling his cock hitting every corner inside you, and both of you moan at the same time. “fuck me.”

something sparks in nanami’s eyes, washed over by a fresh wave of arousal. before you know it, he’s flipped the two of you over so that you’re now lying on your back and he’s propped up above you. his eyes stare into yours, so intense, and that’s when you know: he’s going to devour you.

with a growl, nanami begins to move, pulling out his cock just enough to shove it back into you. hard and fast and so, so fucking deep. your mouth parts but no sound comes out. you can’t think straight; your pussy feels so full, stretched tight around his aching cock.

“kento—kento—”

but nanami isn’t listening to you anymore. he’s so wound up, so fucking turned on beyond reason, that he can’t hold back anymore. he starts thrusting wildly and unrestrained using short, quick rolls of his hips to drive his cock into you. each inch that enters you burns with pleasure and the room fills with the filthy sounds of your moans, of nanami pounding his cock into you again and again.

“this is payback,” he says, voice low and raspy. it makes you shudder to think about what he has in store for you. “i'm gonna—hah—gonna fuck you until you scream. fill you up with my come. shit, and i won’t stop until you’re coming on my cock like the naughty fucking girl you are.”

nanami’s hips are stuttering but his pace never falters. his next thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, making you arch off the bed and gasp, sparks of pleasure dancing along your spine. and now that nanami has found it, he aims there every time, knowing how sensitive it is, how it brings you that much closer to the edge.

moaning, it’s all you can to do keep up with the brutal thrusts. your stomach coils, orgasm building and building, threatening to take over your body. it feels so fucking good. nanami’s cock is pushing deep inside you, hard and fast, pulsing against your walls, stretching you open. he uses a hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, and you cry out, hips bucking up to chase the sensation, clenching around his cock on instinct.

“oh—fuck, k-kento, i'm—i'm coming—”

the pleasure crests and your arousal spikes. you know that you won’t be able to endure it for much longer. and nanami is right there with you, thrusts turning erratic and desperate.

“m-me too,” he says, grunting. “come. don’t hold back. come for me, baby.”

one, two more thrusts and you’re moaning his name, body convulsing in waves. nanami fucks you through it, sending aftershocks to your nerves, and then he’s coming too, releasing everything that’s built up inside of him in spurts. he’s loud when he comes, mouth next to your ear; louder than you’ve ever heard him, riled up by all the teasing. his cock twitches inside you and his hips slow, eventually go still.

god, it’s so damn hot that it almost makes you want to fuck him all over again.

for a moment, both of you lie there, catching your breaths. then nanami pulls out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. he holds you like that and you melt in his arms, all the strength leaving your body.

“next time,” nanami says, sounding defeated, “you’re going to be the one begging for it.”

.

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu

(comment to be added/removed)

[kathaynesart]

Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?

Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!

Ted Talk below the cut.

Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.

Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.

No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!

Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.

Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.

Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.

Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!

Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.

Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!

[xenteaart]

contemplating mediocrity

pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3

“baby? what’s wrong?” 

ah, he’s always too quick to notice. 

you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.

“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just… contemplating my mediocrity.”

“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.

it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.

“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you. 

it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”

long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—

“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.” 

oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”. 

“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now. 

“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”

you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together. 

“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help. 

secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little. 

“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”

“okay, where is this truly going?”

there it goes.

“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”

you feel stupid. 

“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”

you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved. 

“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.” 

you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.

“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling. 

what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.

do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”

“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.

"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."

the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.

for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.

[mopopshop]

Out Of Breath (Emily Engstler x Reader)

based on this request <-

here’s the tiktok it’s based on

summary: that one couple workout challenge

hope y’all like enjoy, give feedback if you feel like it!!

“We only filming this so we can prove who’s stronger” you say giggling, placing your phone down on the TV stand and backing up.

You and Emily we’re having a debate about who the stronger one in the relationship was, so to prove it you’ve moved all your furniture out of the way in your living room and are taking turns displaying your strength.

“So.. we’re gonna do hip thrusts, squats, deadlifts, push up, bench, and curls” Emily lists.

“Em! That’s too much you know I can’t do all that” You pout.

She chuckles “Girl stop actin’ scared and come here”

Emily puts her back against the couch and hooks her elbows on top, with her legs bent at the knees and her feet flat on the ground. 

“Lay on my lap and I’ll lift you with my legs, that’s a hip thrust”

You cringe at the name, giggling “Why is it called that? Sounds so sexual” 

Emily rolls her eyes, laughing. "Just get over here and lie down."

You cautiously lie across her lap, adjusting your position until you're comfortable. Emily takes a deep breath, plants her feet firmly on the ground, and lifts her hips, raising you off the couch with unsurprising ease. 

"See? Easy peasy," she says, a triumphant grin on her face.

“Corny, cornball, booo, tomatos, tomatoes, throwing tomatoes” You tease, rolling your eyes. 

You switch places, and Emily lies across your lap, much heavier, as suspected with her 6’1 frame. You steady yourself and take a deep breath, focusing on lifting her with your legs. 

With a determined effort, you manage to lift her a slightly off the ground, though not as smoothly as she did. Emily claps her hands, cheering you on. "There you go, baby! Not bad at all."

You both laugh, and Emily sits up. "Alright, what's next?"

You check the list she made. "Squats. You gotta throw me over your shoulder and squat"

She claps her hands together, smirking “Bet, c‘mere mama”

“Shut up, you think you so smooth” you laugh, feigning annoyance. 

Emily chuckles, getting into position. She bends down slightly, and you hop onto her back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. With surprising strength and ease, she lifts you up, settling you securely over her shoulder. 

"Hold on baby," she says, and starts doing squats, counting out loud. "One... two... three..."

You can't help but laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Okay, okay! You win this round," you admit, patting her back to signal her to stop.

Emily gently lowers you back to the ground, beaming with pride. "Told you I could do it."

"Alright, now it's my turn to show off," you say, determined to keep up. "Get ready, Em."

She switches places with you, and you prepare yourself mentally. Emily's taller frame makes it a bit more challenging, but you manage to hoist her over your shoulder with a grunt of effort. You bend your legs to get in the squat position and are surprisingly able to go down but as soon as you try to get back up your legs crumble from under you.

Emily laughs as you both end up in a heap on the floor, her landing cushioned by your body. 

“You tryna admit that I’m the stronger one yet?” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist as you stand up.

“How many times I gotta tell you to shut up? Let’s do the next thing on the list” You roll your eyes, smiling and pushing her away. 

“Deadlifts. Just lay on the floor and I’ll lift you by your arms and waist”

You do as such and Emily easily lifts you holding you horizontally by your midsection and arms. She grins wildly after carefully laying back down.

“I’m killing this shit, babe!”

“I’m not losing just yet, don’t get cocky” 

“Okay, hold that optimism for when you do lose” she chuckles, kissing your cheek. 

“Whatever, Em. Next is push-ups”

Emily gets in position and you lay directly on top of her, wrapping your arms around her neck. Once again completing the challenge with no issue, her displays of strength making heat pool in your gut but that’s for another time. 

“Easy stuff, easy stuff”

“Move and let me have my turn” 

Assuming the same position as Emily, as soon as she climbs on your back you collapse in a pile of laughs. 

Emily rolls off you, laughing. "Okay, I think it's safe to say I win this one," she teases, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you reply, catching your breath. "Let's just move on to the chest press."

She stands up, offering you a hand to help you up. "Fine by me. Lay down on the floor and I'll press you like a dumbbell."

You cackle and lie flat on your back, Emily positions herself, crouching down to grip your sides. She starts to lift you, pressing you up and down as if you weigh nothing.

"One... two... three..." she counts out loud, showing off her strength. 

After a few reps, she gently sets you down. "Alright, your turn, Ms. Independent."

"Nah, nah, you win," you admit, throwing your hands up in defeat. "You're definitely the stronger one."

Emily smirks, pulling you into a hug. "Told you so," she says, kissing the top of your head. "But you put up a good fight."

"Thanks," you reply, hugging her back. "But next time, let's pick a challenge that's more... balanced."

"Deal," she says, laughing and making her way to your phone, stopping the recording. "But for now, let's just enjoy the rest of the night."

You nod, smiling as you both collapse on the couch, exhausted but happy.

———

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 58.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

all the lights in seoul went out. although the girl had not yet fallen asleep completely, the shock after the blackout had awakened her. once she understood what was happening she might have gone back to sleep if something hadn't abruptly crashed into the door and then slammed it open, without her even getting out of bed. from the dark house, serim emerged holding her phone that had the flashlight on and once inside the room she aggressively kicked the door to close it.

"what are you doing…?" karina whispered.

before she could hear her, serim made an olympic leap towards the bed where the blackhaired woman was resting and, ignoring the complaints and pushes that she gave her to get out of her bed, she managed to hide under the sheets. they both fell silent and then only serim's heavy breathing could be heard.

"what's going on?" the youngest asked stoically.

“what's going on, karina? there was a blackout." she said obviously.

“yes, serim, i can notice that, but why are you in my bed?” she spoke into the air since jang was completely covered.

“promise me you won’t laugh.” she asked.

“i won't laugh." she assured, already trying to hold back her laughter.

from beneath her, in the part of her body that was underneath the blanket, she felt serim poke her abdomen with her little finger. karina tried to stop her, but she continued until she understood what she wanted and put her hand under the coverlet, with her pinky extended, and she intertwined it with serim's, sealing her promise.

“i am very afraid of the dark.” she admitted. “since i was little, i could never get over it.” she sounded upset, like she was having trouble breathing. “i hate to thank you, but luckily you're here because i don't know what i would have done if i was alone during the blackout.”

“are you still afraid of the dark?”

"do not judge me!"

"i'm not!"

serim began to poke the contrary's abdomen repeatedly and quickly to annoy her, to which karina tried to get away from her and catch her hands to make her cease the action. out of nowhere, a loud crash was heard causing serim to let out a sharp scream of terror accompanied by a jump on the mattress, and then move disastrously and frantic trying to cover every small hole that led to the outside, messing up the bed, and approaching karina to cling to her body so that she would save her from whatever the threat was. due to the position in which she had ended up after so much rolling around on the bed, the closest extremity of yu within her reach was her legs, so she hugged one of these tightly.

“serim, serim.” she tried to detach her from her leg without results, so she rested her hands on her back. “it was the neighbor upstairs colliding with a chair, nothing's wrong, don't worry.” she patted her skin, frustrated at having to take care of a 26-year-old. “come, get out of there.”

the youngest took the girl by one of her arms and carefully pulled it upwards, trying to get her out from under the covers, but she resisted, clinging to her body tightly so she could stay there below.

“no, karina, i can’t.” she refused, her voice fragile. “what do i do if the boogeyman is out there in the dark?”

“the only thing out here in the dark is me and the oxygen that is not reaching you right now.” she continued to exert force. “namu, don't worry, i'm here.”

“i don't know if i'm more scared of the boogeyman or you.”

"come here." she finally got the older girl to uncover herself and take her head outside, although now holding on tightly to her shirt. “it's okay, you're scared, i'm not going to do anything bad, don't worry.” she tried to calm her down.

barely seeing her image with the little light that filtered from behind the curtains of the room's large window, yu noticed that her hair was a mess due to all the movement she made before, so, leaving a hand on serim's shoulder, she took the other to fix the locks that were in her face.

“you don't mind me sleeping here, do you?” jang asked weakly, fear and vulnerability impossible to hide.

“five minutes ago i would have told you to leave, but now that i see that you are seriously terrified of the dark, i can't be that mean.” she laughed softly. “what does it say about myself if you choose the boogeyman instead of me?”

“i could make great jokes about you and the boogeyman, but i'm scared so maybe another time.” she said with a sad voice and her lips forming a pout.

the blackhaired found that comment cute, so she couldn't resist a light smile, and giving a caress to the girl's cheek, as if it were a reassuring, friendly pat. she turned her body that was on her side facing serim and lay down on her back, but the oldest didn't move, instead she took advantage of her change of position to wrap herself around her arm and hide her head on her neck.

“namu, you can't sleep so close to me.” she carefully tried to push her body.

“i need to be touching you to know that there is someone and not be afraid.”

she babbled with her face still between karina's shoulder and jaw, moving to circle her torso and hold onto it, lacing her fingers with the fabric of her pajamas that draped over her ribs. by hugging her more securely, the young one could no longer separate her from her, and on the other side, she only felt her getting closer and closer. due to the little space between their bodies, the vocalist's nose constantly rubbed against the other's skin, and this one couldn't help but be distracted by this detail.

“why is your nose cold?” she asked in a low volume.

the girl returned to the previous position she was in, standing on her side, face to face and impossibly nearer to serim, who, due to the motion, remained holding the youngest in her arms, and upon noticing this, she rested her hands on her waist and lower back to press and attract her towards her.

"i have no idea." unlike her voice moments ago when she was scared, now her words came out in a serious deep tone typical of when you just woke up, still in a whisper.

yu held her face gently between her fingertips and moved closer to her, brushing their noses lightly once, taking a second to appreciate the sensation of the recent touch on her skin before lifting her chin again to rub her nose against jang's again and then maintain that contact for a moment, going back and forth slowly and tenderly, until she brought her lips to the opposite tip and left a kiss there.

before separating from her, serim moved towards her to capture her mouth with her own, but karina turned around, lying face up, quickly, avoiding the connection.

"i can't, i have a boyfriend." she remembered, that sentence coming out between labored breaths, as if she had just run.

serim rolled on the mattress, ending up on the opposite end of it, the back of her hand falling on the dancer's chest, keeping contact, she gave a frustrated sigh.

“so, you don't do it because you have a boyfriend,” she reiterated. “not because you don't want to." observed.

"think whatever you want." yu dismissed her, returning to the same sour tone with which she always spoke to her, adjusting her pillow to go to sleep.

“karina." the woman called after a moment of complete silence.

"now what?" tha named one asked tired, she was sleepy.

“can you hold my hand?” she asked shyly.

“namu…”

“it's not romantic at all, it's just that i need to be in contact with you to be reassured that there is someone else and i'm not alone in the darkness.” she explained honestly.

the youngest didn't react, so serim thought that she would not pay attention to her and so began to breathe with difficulty as she became aware of the lack of light again and felt helpless in it, but before she lost her composure she felt the touch of karina on her skin, sliding along it in search of her hand. the oldest made her task easier, tapping on her to make it simpler to find it. yu then wrapped her palm around jang's thumb, holding it steady, bringing calm to serim, and finally helping her fall asleep.

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @haerinsloverr @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @yizhuobberi @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @aerithykly @chaenniefirst @minfolio @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer

[endelineinwonderland]

Let The Light In: Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Words: 2K

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn, fluff, suggestive scenes.

A/N: WAR IS OVER!!!! Also, it's finals week and I didn't get off work 'till 11 so this really wasn't supposed to happen but here we are I guess! Gonna have to edit this in the morning cause there's no way in hell I'm going to bed after 6 (apologies, but too many sleep-related sacrifices have already been made tonight.) Also, I might be moving to fast but the angst was getting to me as much as y'all so we can save the heart to heart for later, let them fuck it out first.

To love Paige, you have to truly understand her, and you do, as well as you know the back of your hand. Paige often acts impulsively, leaving you to think things through for her, and the last time you neglected this responsibility, she stopped talking to you for a year. You were never going to make that mistake again, and as a result, everything had meticulously planned everything down to the smallest detail.

As you laid in bed next to her, you had been decided it would be in your best interest, and more importantly in Paige’s best interest, to stay away from her. You had run through a million different scenarios, lived out each and every possible outcome in your mind, and this was the only one that made sense long-term, at least that's what you told yourself.

Truthfully, the timing had worked out perfectly. Paige always got hyper-focused before game days, so your absence hadn’t been noticed. You just had to get through that morning, pretending to be asleep when she had pressed kisses to your cheeks to ‘wake’ you, feigning enthusiasm as she rummaged through your fridge for the ingredients to make the lemon pancakes she "missed so much," and suppressing your tears when you hugged her goodbye, knowing it would be the last time you’d let yourself have her like this. You waved at her with a forced grin as she drove off, and you hadn’t spoken to her since.

When you had to face her again, you had a plan. You had accounted for her coming up to you during halftime; you’d be pleasant, more professional than normal, but not in any noticeable ways. You would just be laying the groundwork for your plan: to slowly drift away.

Paige would never know you had intentionally left her, and the memory of you would be something she could look back upon fondly, an old almost-love-story from her college days.

You hadn’t, however, planned at all for a massive upset, one that would leave Paige practically storming off the court when the fourth-quarter buzzer finally signaled the end of the disastrous game. And you definitely hadn’t planned to receive a call from Ice right after you’d finally wrapped up your work for the night and just tucked yourself into bed. In all honesty, you hadn’t accounted at all for the effect Paige had on you, and your resistance is only so strong.

“Hey, sorry to bother you so late, but is Paige with you?” Ice's voice crackled through the phone, sounding unusually tense. “No, she’s not with me. Why?” The girl on the other end of the line spoke in frantic, hushed tones to someone in the background before finally responding to you, “She hasn’t returned to the dorms since after the presser, we just got back from dinner and we thought she was here, but she’s left her phone in her room and her car is gone. When we realized this we just assumed she'd gone to you.”

Your heart sank. Paige had a tendency to disappear a bit when she didn’t want people to know how she was feeling, but she’d never physically left, normally just opting to shrink in on herself, her smile becoming a little less bright, and her voice piping up fewer and fewer times until she was completely silent, as she would typically remain for the rest of the night, adamantly denying that anything was wrong.

In a knee-jerk reaction, you check her location, silently thanking God for how out of it you had been the days after Paige’s injury, more specifically, that your mutual distress had made you forget to stop sharing your locations. The thanks quickly turned to quiet curses, however, when you see her location displayed atop an outline of her dorm room on the map and Ice’s voice echoed in your mind, “She’s left her phone.” But, before you could close the app, the location of an AirTag speeding rapidly down highway 95 caught your eye. When the two of you had left her car a few nights ago after ice cream, you’d forgotten one of your camera bags, one that had a tag in it.

In the blink of an eye, any former resolve to stay away from the blonde was completely obliterated. You’d never gotten to your car faster.

You couldn't believe you were doing this. After meticulously planning every detail to ensure a seamless, unnoticed exit from Paige's life, you now find yourself racing down the highway at breakneck speeds, chasing a signal from a damn camera bag. You kept your eyes glued to the road, your heart impossibly pounding faster with each mile you covered.

The AirTag's location pinged consistently, a tiny beacon guiding you to her. Your inability to act even vaguely nonchalant about the girl was becoming distressing; any and all thoughts of self-preservation flew out the window as you passed another exit sign. If she were a lighthouse, you’d intentionally steer yourself to crash onto her shores, if just for the sake of being near her.

As the minutes stretched into an eternity, the familiar landscape of a lookout point came into view. You exhaled a shaky breath, memories flooding back of the night Paige had brought you here, when you had fallen asleep in her car and woken up hours later—still in her car—just to give her so much shit about it, dumping all your feelings into the vehicle until there was no room left for hers.

You try to stop your racing thoughts as you pull up next to the blonde’s familiar black car, this isn't about you, this is about Paige. An eerie cloak of silence smothering you immediately as you shut off your engine.

There she was, sitting on the hood, her figure silhouetted against the dusky sky. She looked so small, so fragile, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the thought of leaving her alone like this, of sticking to your plan despite everything, seemed unbearable, and even worse, it felt familiar.

You climb out of your car and approach her slowly. Paige didn’t look up, but you know she is aware of your presence. You stop a few feet away, the cool night air wrapping around you both as you struggle to decide what to do.

“Paige,” you call softly.

She turns her head slightly, her eyes meet yours, the complete and utter relief evident in her expression almost making you stumble back. “What are you doing here?” she finally says, her voice barely a whisper. “Ice called me. Said you were missing,” you explain, taking a tentative step closer. “I realized my bag is still in your trunk, so I followed the location tag.” She nods, turning her attention back to the scene in front of her as a sob racks her body, seemingly out of nowhere.

You hurry to her side, standing in front of her, tucking yourself between her long legs hanging off the car hood. “Love, don’t cry,” the term of endearment passing through your lips before you could think to stop it. She wraps herself around you, ankles locked around your hips, and upper body slouched completely into yours. “I let everyone down tonight.” Her voice came through muffled, her head tucked into your shoulder.

Acting on instinct, your hands move to run through her hair, playing gently with the ends before moving to run across her back in a desperate attempt to be comforting with something other than your words, which always seemed to fail you.

“I’m sorry for running away, I realized when I got here that I should probably have stayed with someone, that I needed to be with you, but I left my phone at home, and it’s a long drive back.” Paige catches you off guard.

‘I needed to be with you.’

‘I needed to be with you.’

‘She needs to be with you.’

Finally, after probably a million mental repetitions, it finally clicked: she needs you. Just because she didn’t always want you, doesn’t mean she hasn’t always needed you. Maybe even in the same way you desperately need her. You feel incredibly stupid, all along, has it really been that damn simple? Definitely not you decide, but right now the girl you love, 'the girl who loves you', is hurting and that's enough to make you push anything aside. That conversation can happen later, right now you're going to be there for Paige. You're going to prove to yourself that it's okay for you to be with her.

You lean down to press a tentative kiss against the corner of her mouth. “I’m always so proud of you, P, you know that?” Another whimper leaves her throat as you begin to speak. “I’ve watched you win a million games and lose a few too, but when I look at you, I always feel the exact same, so proud of everything you’ve done that after some games I’ve had to go sit alone in my office because it felt like my heart was going to give out if I stayed near you.” Her grip tightens around you, “I really love you.” The pang that normally hits your chest at these words felt duller than normal as you respond, “I love you too.”

“Tonight was bad.” She breaks the silence after a while. “It wasn’t great, no, but I know you, and I know you won’t tolerate it happening again.” You reply, your hand still running in soothing circles across her back. “I just got so stressed I have no idea why, and the whole team took the hit, it’s not fair.” Her voice is tight; she is close to tears again as you pull yourself back to look at her.

“Baby, what’s going on, why were you stressed?” A small shrug and diverted gaze are all you get in response. “You looked tired, have you been sleeping alright?” Her breath stutters, eyes finally meeting yours. “I’ve just accepted that now that I can sleep next to you again, I’m not going to fare so well on my own.” She replies before leaning down to press the softest kiss possible against your parted lips, testing the waters.

Once again, she catches you off guard with the reminder of just how mutual your longing has been this whole time. “We can drive home, you can stay with me.” You reply when your lips finally leave hers, god you'd missed that feeling more than Paige will ever know, and you love letting yourself feel it. She gives you a small shake of her head. “I’m too tired to drive all the way back, I booked a motel room for the night when I realized.”

Being completely unable to resist an opportunity to stay close to her seemed to be the theme of the night you decide as you reply, “Okay, baby then let’s go there. I can take care of you there.”

The motel was a nondescript, low-slung building off the highway, its neon sign flickering in the night as you pulled into the parking lot behind Paige’s car.

Once in the room, you turned on a dim bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over the basic furnishings. Paige sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, waiting to speak until you took a seat beside her, the mattress dipping under your combined weight. Her voice is hesitant, “I know I said I was tired, but I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you want to do instead, love?” She turns to face you before replying, “I want to not think about that stupid fucking game.”

Your gaze turns to the ancient TV sitting on the dresser beside you. “We could watch something?” You suggest, despite being not entirely convinced the thing was even functional. Her eyes practically roll back into her head, hands moving to cup your cheeks as she mutters, “I want to be distracted, not have a distraction.”

‘Oh.’

Her lips were on yours in an instant. Whatever it is about Paige and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe the second she got you alone in a hotel room would need to be studied further you decide as she moves to push you against the mattress, sinking her body weight onto you. Even if right now this is fueled entirely by her need to forget the night she's had, you’ll take it.

She breaks the kiss. “Is this okay?” ‘She has to be kidding’ you think, some might think the two of you were moving too fast but you know that this has been building up for months if not years. “Paige, this is more than okay.” She grins before tilting your chin up to capture your lips once again.

Her mouth quickly ends up moving down to your neck, planting soft kisses down the base of it before nipping at the skin of your collarbone, most definitely leaving a mark. Your head is spinning; you want her more than anything. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer to you before using her new center of gravity to your advantage, flipping the two of you so you are now resting above her.

Her eyes widen in surprise at your new arrangement, hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her, and her lips parted slightly as she looked up at you, anticipating your next move.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at her, her body spread out beneath you. The sight alone is enough to make your mind race with thoughts that can only be described as downright filthy, and with one particularly vivid image of her chest heaving beneath you, you can't stop yourself. “How many baskets did you get tonight, baby?”

Her face twists into something you didn’t recognize, annoyance perhaps? Distress? “You know I only got four, why’d you feel the need to bring that up right now?” She murmurs, her voice sounding almost ashamed despite how shamelessly her hips were rutting up against yours, begging for more friction.

Unable to resist the urge to feel her you lean down to press a sweet kiss against her pouting lips before pulling back to smile down at her again.

“I bet I can make four feel like a lot.”

[barcaatthemoon]

third party || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||

mapi and ingrid invite you to join them.

tonight had been a long time coming. you were no stranger to tension in the locker room. by the time that you arrived at barcelona, your body count had well-exceeded your jersey number. your paths had crossed a few times with a couple of the girls on the team already, even if it had only ever been on the pitch.

within your first month there, you had managed to find your way into a couple of your new teammates' beds. it hadn't been intentional, just a few drinks and dancing gone a bit too far. it had been a bit of a shock to mapi when she had heard patri and pina talking about you, and even more so whenever ingrid had been unphased.

"she was much more wild at wolfsburg." mapi's jaw had dropped at ingrid's simple comment. you knew ingrid's bed well, and a part of mapi felt jealous whenever she looked at you. their sex life wasn't stale, but a part of her longed to know what it would have been like with you in their bed as well.

ingrid had figured it out almost instantly. mapi was flustered around you, something that ingrid found amusing. you had picked up on it as well, but your soft spot for ingrid kept you from flirting or seeking it out. if they wanted you, then they'd just have to make the first move. you had confidence that ingrid would eventually come talk to you, but you hadn't expected it to be during a team bonding night.

you were no stranger to the club scene, but you felt out of place in alexia's apartment for movie night. there were some drinks flowing for those who wanted them, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself. besides, there were a lot of young players there that you wanted to be a good influence for. barcelona was interested in you for the long run, and you didn't want to mess that one up.

"it's been a long time since we've been close like this," ingrid whispered in your ear. she had her arm draped across your shoulders loosely. mapi shifted on the other side of her to steal a kiss, which was when ingrid tugged you even closer.

"what are you doing?" you asked her. ingrid just shrugged your question off as she let her hand fall down a bit.

"act natural like i know you can," ingrid told you. she let her hand roam a little, brushing against places that you didn't know she remembered. you took a sip of your drink and tried to keep your attention on the movie. it was no use, not once ingrid's hand squeezed your hip. she was smirking when you glanced over at her after jumping a little.

"it is late, we should go," mapi announced. the girls were putting on another movie when ingrid stood up. your building was on the way to theirs, so mapi offered to drive you home. ingrid clung to your side, leading you out of alexia's apartment. most of the team had no idea of what you were in for, but the few that you had hooked up with knew better.

you had gotten pretty good at ignoring judgemental or knowing looks from people, but the look in frido's eyes got to you. the two of you hadn't ever slept together, but she knew about your feelings for ingrid. she had been there at wolfsburg whenever you and ingrid had been sleeping together, and she had heard all about the aftermath of it all from former teammates.

"don't hog her," mapi said as she tugged you out of ingrid's grasp. you hadn't expected her to be so forward, especially not in the parking lot. it was possible that there could be prying eyes, but mapi didn't care. her hands found their home on your ass as she pulled you against her body. "ingrid tells me that you're quite the kisser."

"you'll just have to find out for yourself," you teased. mapi bit her lip as she glanced at you. the two of you were at eye level with each other, but neither of you cared to hold eye contact. mapi's eyes were fixated on your lips up until she leaned in for the kiss. you hadn't known what to expect, but she was very forward with the kiss.

you leaned back a bit as ingrid moved in behind you. you happily found yourself pinned between them for the first time that night. mapi's lips were soft and tasted a little bit of whatever fruity drink alexia had in the pitcher for everybody. mapi pressed deeper and deeper with her kiss until she managed to pull a moan from your lips.

"come on, there are better places to be doing this." ingrid pulled you out of mapi's arms and into the car. she drove with a hand on your thigh the entire time. her fingertips dipped past the bottom hem of your shorts, nearly brushing against your underwear.

a part of you wanted to think that ingrid didn't mean to rile you up so much, but you knew better. ingrid wanted you begging and pleading with her to fuck you before the three of you managed to get into the bedroom. ingrid was more mindful of her touches whenever the two of you were in the elevator and hallway, but mapi wasn't.

"i bet you look unreal coming apart on my strap," mapi whispered in your ear. she grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back to grind against her. ingrid bit her lip as she glanced over at the two of you. she had been nervous before tonight about inviting you into their bedroom. mapi was jealous, but the woman was having her fun with you, which excited ingrid more than anything else. ingrid already knew how good of a fuck you could be, and now mapi would get to experience that as well.

"maria wants to fuck you in the ass," ingrid told you. your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, despite your lack of surprise. you had caught mapi staring at your ass in practice several times before. ingrid didn't say anything else as she tugged you into mapi's apartment. "you already know how i want you, don't you?"

"here?" you questioned. ingrid shook her head and brought you back to the bedroom. mapi rushed in behind the two of you. both women helped you strip out of your clothing before ingrid laid you out on the bed. your head was hanging off of the side as you watched mapi and ingrid undress each other.

it was a bit odd to look in from your position, but you were grateful for it. there was a sense of longing as you watched them together, but it was quickly overshadowed by desire when you caught ingrid's eye. she whispered something to mapi, who climbed onto the bed to join you.

"tu eres bonita," mapi mumbled against your skin. she started on your neck, kissing and sucking little marks to the skin there before moving south. you threaded your fingers in her hair, gently guiding her head down in between your legs. mapi happily moved where you wanted her, eagerly lapping at your cunt.

"don't go quiet on us yet," ingrid said as she cupped your jaw. she pulled your head back, forcing you to look away from mapi between your legs. ingrid pushed her thumb past your lips and watched you suck. she let you get a rhythm with that before she switched to her two middle fingers.

ingrid fucked your mouth with her fingers. the thrusts of her fingers were fairly shallow except for the odd one or two that she pushed in further to make you gag. ingrid pulled her fingers away from your mouth, making a show of wiping your spit off against your cheek as she did. mapi glanced up from between your legs to see ingrid slowly thrust her hips forward to have you deep throating her strap-on.

"fuck," mapi groaned as leaned back a bit to get a better view. ingrid shot mapi a warning look to continue with you. she glanced back down between your legs to admire the slickness of your arousal. mapi used one of her hands to rub at your clit as her other one focused on fingering you. "you're taking my fingers so well, bebita."

"don't let her cum," ingrid said. mapi let out a little whine, but ingrid assured her that it would be worth it. between them, you felt your stomach tighten a little as they spoke about the things they wanted to do to you. mapi got you right up to the edge with her fingers, but then pulled her fingers away at ingrid's insistence.

"if it was up to me, you'd be cumming all night long," mapi told you. she trailed kisses up from your stomach, moving to make room for ingrid between your legs as she did. ingrid positioned herself in between your legs, lazily stroking the head of her cock between your folds.

"we have all night, there's no need to rush," ingrid said as she pulled your legs up to wrap around her waist. she didn't outright thrust into you, instead grinding in a way that you knew was getting her off as well. you thought it was a bit odd that ingrid seemed to be stalling, but once you looked over to see mapi approaching you with another strap-on, you knew why. "(y/n) is very good at eating pussy. mapi, sit on her face."

ingrid had pulled your body back enough so that your head wasn't leaning over the edge of the bed anymore. mapi knelt over your face, surprised when your arms tugged her down to settle a little deeper. mapi didn't doubt what ingrid had just told her about you, but she hadn't expected you to be so eager in eating her out.

"you love the taste of maria on your tongue, don't you? she's already rutting against your hips like a whore. make her cum, and we'll both have you seeing stars. come on, i know how much you like showing off," ingrid said as she fucked you. ingrid knew how much her words affected you. she knew exactly how much you liked hearing her talk about how well you were taking her cock or how well you ate her girlfriend out.

"ingrid, i'm so close," mapi huffed out. her hips had been bucking wildly on your face as she ground her cunt against your tongue. ingrid slowed down her thrusts as she watched you push mapi over the edge. the angle wasn't good to see exactly what your mouth was doing, but she got a good idea. there weren't that many forms of stimulation that had mapi cumming that quickly, and ingrid knew from experience how much you loved focusing on the clit.

"do you hear that (y/n)? mapi's gonna cum for you, and then, you get to cum too. after that, we're gonna flip you over and fuck you until you're begging us to stop. i want personally want to see how many times you can cum on my cock," ingrid told you. mapi's body was spasming above you, but all you could think about was the way ingrid was talking to you. she had changed a lot since wolfsburg, becoming much more confident in her dominance than you remembered.

one of ingrid's hands moved down from where they had both been gripping your waist. there wasn't much room for her hand to squeeze in between your bodies, but ingrid found it. she knew that she could thrust into you all night, but if she wanted you to cum, you needed more. ingrid was happy to give you that. she wanted to watch you cumming and crying out her name with mapi's arousal absolutely coating the bottom half of your face.

your cries of pleasure echoed off of ingrid's bedroom walls. mapi was squeezing her thighs together as she watched you and ingrid together. she could tell that ingrid wasn't far behind you, the few little deep thrusts she took once you had stopped clenching around her being the trick to push her over the edge.

the squeeze of ingrid's hands on your waist were a bit rough, but served as a reminder of the things she could do to you. ingrid was the softest and most gentle person that you had ever met, but in the bedroom things were different. ingrid manhandled you a little as she flipped you onto your stomach. she leaned down and kissed you, serving as a distraction as mapi moved in behind you.

"are you okay with mapi fucking you in the ass?" ingrid asked you. the question was blunt and direct, enough so that you were blushing deeply as you nodded. "use your words. she won't touch you until she hears you tell her that it's okay. if you don't want that, we can find something else to do. we could take turns with your pussy if you wanted instead."

"i want this. i want mapi to fuck me while you're fucking me," you told them. mapi leaned over and started trailing kisses from your upper back down your spine. ingrid laid back against the pillows and pulled you up to lay on her lap. ingrid grabbed your jaw with one hand and pulled you in for a kiss.

behind you, you could feel mapi try to position you. she seemed slightly afraid to move you around like ingrid had been all night. ingrid seemed to sense this as well and started to help mapi get you laid out how they'd need you to be. you could feel the length of ingrid's strap pressing against your cunt, occasionally grinding as either of you moved.

"your ass is perfect," mapi muttered as she spread you apart. this wasn't a completely foreign position, but it was all still new to you. mapi moved slowly, easing you into each of her motions. at the first feeling of her tongue, you knew that you'd be back in their bed again. the sensation was addicting, and you longed to feel her tongue elsewhere on your body.

"you don't have to hold back with us," ingrid told you. she knew that you could be a bit shy about the noises you made while getting fucked. ingrid wanted to hear all of them, but more importantly, she wanted mapi to hear you. she wanted mapi to hear you completely falling apart with both of them inside of you. she wanted mapi to hear the way that you screamed out in pleasure once ingrid would get to fucking you again.

things had slowed down drastically as mapi stretched you out from behind. there was no rush to any of her movements, not even once she had you stretched enough to comfortably take her strap. it felt much smaller than ingrid's, which was still being ground against your cunt as mapi began to slowly thrust inside of you.

"how does it feel bebita?" mapi asked you. she leaned down, whispering her words into the shell of your ear. you shuddered, quiet moans and whimpers escaping you.

"good, so fucking good," you mumbled. "ingrid, please."

"we've got you." ingrid pressed a kiss to your cheek as she shifted her hips and began to slide inside of you. as much as ingrid wanted to pin you down against her body and thrust into you wildly, she knew that you needed to be slowly worked up. your arousal was dripping down onto ingrid's thighs, having made a complete mess of yourself, but you were far from finished. "mapi, you need to start moving."

mapi glanced down at you to check before she made any real movement. slowly, she inched her way inside of you. each thrust was shallow, and mapi made sure that you were comfortable before she started to get deeper. it was torturously slow, but ingrid allowed you enough space to move freely. mapi was so caught up in making sure that she didn't hurt you that she didn't realize you rocking back until you urged ingrid to move as well.

"this isn't too much for you?" mapi sounded surprised, and if it was any other time, you would have been blushing with embarrassment. now, you were shamelessly rocking yourself between the two of them, setting a pace that you could just barely handle.

"no, i want more," you told her. mapi glanced down at ingrid who just nodded. you felt mapi's hands grip your hips from behind as she began to fuck you harder. ingrid started to thrust up, matching mapi's pace easily. ingrid's thrusts were harder than mapi's, a small show of ingrid's somewhat hidden strength.

both of them fucking you at the same time felt wildly different than when you had been fucking yourself between them. you felt consistently fuller in a way that you hadn't felt before. your body felt like it was constantly on edge, just waiting for ingrid or mapi to let you know that you could cum.

"we're going to move you," ingrid told you. it was impressive how ingrid and mapi managed to completely flip your positioning without having to pull out. now, mapi was thrusting up into your ass from beneath you while ingrid rougly drove her hips into yours. she had your legs spread wide open as she fucked you, not allowing for any of the noises to be muffled.

"don't bite your lip. i want to hear you," mapi said as she grabbed at your jaw. she hooked two of her fingers under your jaw, holding your mouth open. you were sure that it had to be quite the sight, especially with the way that ingrid stared at you. her eyes flicked from between your legs to your face, occasionally stopping to watch the way your breasts bounced as you were fucked.

you were pushed well beyond being able to form anything coherent. mapi's fingers in your mouth didn't help your case, but they both seemed to understand your attempt to warn them of your orgasm. this time, ingrid didn't stop, fucking you straight from one into another. mapi stalled in her movements, waiting until ingrid moved to pull out.

"do you need anything?" mapi asked as she pulled you into her arms. you had been with couples before, and normally, you were forced out as soon as the fun was over. maybe it was a spanish thing, or maybe it was just mapi, but you liked being kept around for a bit longer and looked after.

"i'm okay. i can leave if you need me to," you said. ingrid shook her head as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"you stay right there for now. i'll be back, i promise." you weren't sure who the last part was for, but both you and mapi watched ingrid grab some clothes and disappear. you heard the door to her apartment shut, leaving you alone with mapi for the first time.

"do you want to take a shower?" mapi asked you. laying against her was nice, especially with the way her hand gently stroked your high and the outside of your thigh. you had been a bit nervous with mapi, knowing that your body was simply built different than ingrid's. however, mapi had shown your body love and attention while you were in her bed. "i can go with you if you'd like, or not. if we go now, we can be done by the time ingrid gets back with the food."

"together? you want to shower with me?" you asked her.

"we don't have to, but it will be quicker," mapi told you. you knew that there was more she wanted to say, another reason, but the two of you left it in the air. the idea of it sounded nice, so you agreed to it. you had no idea how intimate it was going to feel, but instead of running away from it, you let yourself lean into it.

mapi doted on you inside and outside of the shower. she let you borrow a pair of her sweatpants and a sports bra. the two of you sat on the couch wrapped up in a big blanket with a german reality tv show that ingrid had gotten obsessed with in germany queued up. you felt less like someone they had just brought over to fuck, and more included than you had thought possible.

even after the impromptu midnight snack and reality tv binge, they brought you back to their bed. mapi changed the sheets as ingrid leaned against your body, sleepy kisses pressed along the side of your neck. you curled into ingrid once the three of you were settled on the bed. she held onto you tightly, like she was afraid you'd run off if she did anything else. mapi laid on ingrid's other side, but kept one of her hands threaded in your hair as she scratched lightly at your scalp. it was all almost too much for you, but you openly embraced the comfort that you had denied yourself for so long.

[uhohdad]

THE GIRL WHO CONQUERED THE MOUNTAIN

KONIG X READER [HUNGER GAMES AU]

You & Konig have been chosen to participate in a twenty-four tribute fight to the death.

18+, NSFW, 85k WORD COUNT, AO3, Virgin!Konig, Outcast!Konig, 18yo!Konig, GentleGiant!Konig, Mentor!JohnPrice, Fem!Reader, Blood & Injury, Graphic Violence, Death, PTSD, Alcohol Use, Slow Burn, Sexual Content, First Time, Smut, Fluff, Angst

· THE TRIBUTES I · THE TRIBUTES II · THE GAMES · THE VICTOR I · THE VICTOR II ·

➤ THE VICTOR I

You don’t run.

A sharp inhale tightens every muscle in your body. Bloody, wounded hands shoot out in front of you in a brace of pure instinct, chin tilting down and pinning to your chest. You’re hoping he’ll make it quick and as painless as possible. Maybe it’ll be a snap of a neck, just as he did with the boy from District Eleven. Dead before you even know what hit you.

Your brace tightens, teeth clenching when the heavy boot steps are only a few feet away, not breaking their strides. Strong, powerful arms wrap around your core and yank you off your feet with ease. You hold your tense for only a moment before relaxing into his restraint.

You don’t fight it.

You’re giving yourself to him, letting him do what needs to be done to get his win.

He stills, a moment passes, and you must be in shock. The knife he pierced through your gut must be too sharp or maybe your adrenaline is coursing so effectively you can’t yet feel the stab in the back. You’re just waiting to feel the impact, waiting for the unimaginable pain to tear through you, waiting for death.

After a moment you open your eyes, met with his chunky, coarse vest loaded with supplies scraping against your cheek.

You give a frantic brush with trembling hands over your front and back, blindly searching for the embedded blade.

He pulls away, keeping his hands on your upper shoulders as he looks you over with wide eyes brimmed with tears. You take the opportunity to examine your body, smoothing over your core to search for his puncture wound, but you come up empty, only managing to smear blood all over your clothes.

Scratchy gloves take your wrist and gently extends it to examine your flayed arm, soaking his gloves with your blood. You wince as he moves the shredded fabric of your jacket out of the way to get a good look at the evidence of your fight with District One. You watch with pinched eyes as he stares down the inflamed, deep gash she left on you, still oozing steadily.

“What happened?” He says, voice too soft for a man with a harsh voice who’s just killed a boy with his fists.

You look to him, confusion and fear stitched into every feature. When he sees your bewildered expression he quickly retracts his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He brings his hand to his hooded head and lets out a deep sigh that ends on a breathy croak, “I’m just glad you’re alive. I thought I lost you.”

You blink hard, pushing your jaw forward.

“What?” You say sharply, demanding explanation.

“Every time the cannon went off ich- I thought it was you,” He lets out another heavy, relieved sigh.

“You wanted to be the one to kill me?”

His eyes pinch, “Wh- No! I- I-”

“Spit it out.”

His eyes widen from their confused position, he fumbles his words as he sputters out an answer, “I- I just didn’t want you to die.”

You swallow, and look to your boots. Your forehead wrinkles, your head shaking.

“No,” You say in complete invalidation of his statements. You don’t believe his words, you don’t believe that he hasn’t killed you yet.

“You ran away from me,” He lets out another sigh, “At the beginning.”

You take a step back, throwing out your blood-soaked arms, flicking droplets of blood on the grass, “You tried to kill me!”

He eyes scrunch in a way that suggests you’ve just said the most offensive statement in the world.

“I was trying to get you out of there!” He shoots back.

“You-“

That pulls you up short.

You make a quarter turn, staring to the stained grass as you run over the events of the bloodbath, “You killed that boy, and then-“

“He was going to kill you,” He says with an urgent tone that steals your attention.

“You-“

Your eyes narrow at him, brows pinched and teeth bared, “You said you would only kill if you needed to!”

His eyes crinkle at your spit accusatory words, his muscles tensing for a moment before his shoulders relax, his voice taking on a gentle but insistent tone.

“I did need to.”

You watch him carefully, trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth by staring into the only exposed part of him. His eyes are too soft, too pained to be dismissed.

“You don’t need to trick me. You’ve already won.”

Your voice doesn’t exactly convey confidence.

“I’m not tricking you,” He takes a careful step towards you, palms up, “That boy was going to kill you.”

He finishes on your name, spoken so soft and sweet it makes you want to believe his words.

You mull over it for a moment, chewing on his words, the look in his eye, and still you are convinced he’s hiding something, manipulating you. His actions don’t make sense.

The questions come out rapid fire, finding yourself as frustrated as you normally do when the answer doesn't come easy to you, “Why? Why did you kill Eleven? Why didn’t you kill me with Titan? Why aren’t you killing me now?!” Your urgent questions are pointed, offensive more than curious.

His hand pulls up to his chest, and he freezes.

You throw out your arms again, “Why, Konig?!”

“This is what you wanted,” He whispers after another pause, his voice unsteady.

“It’s what everyone wants! What is this?!” You gesture aggressively in the space between you both, splattering his shirt with your own blood, “What was Two talking about?!”

His horrified eyes flick between either of yours, stammering through various unintelligible syllables before cutting himself off with a close of his eyes and a deep breath.

He finds your face again and lands on a response. When he speaks, he sounds like a child, even through that scratchy, intense voice.

“You’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

The muscles in your face relax as you process his sentence.

You swallow and stare down at the lush grass, ashamed, because the first thought that comes to mind is -

‘We’re friends?’

Friends.

That -

You hadn’t considered.

This entire time you’ve been so caught up in trying to decipher Konig’s strategy, the intentions and manipulations motivating his actions, but you never stopped to consider that the two of you actually had something. Well, no - you knew there was something, but all of the actions could have been explained away simply because you were two tributes who were terrified in their final days of life - a bond formed in mutual trauma, or perhaps a strategy to lure you in with his comfort.

Friends.

When did this happen?

Had he thought of you as one this whole time?

How stupid can you be?

The glass of water, the coffee, the handholding, the token, the pleas for allyship, keeping each other warm, and making each other feel better after a hard day.

How stupid can he be?

Making friends with someone only for it to end a week later in this arena, becoming attached to someone destined to die.

You look up to him again, brows pinched and forehead wrinkled as you reframe everything. When you speak, your voice is a broken wisp of air in his direction.

“How did we let this happen?”

You know he understands, the way he looks at you without words, nothing but pain and uncertainty in his sloped eyes. He understands that making friends with someone who is destined to die was a recipe for heartbreak, and he understands that the bittersweet final meal has been served.

As slim as the odds, you two ending up face-to-face at the end was always a possibility.

You were sure you were going to die before you’d have to face him.

Now here you both are, two tributes, two friends, and only one of you can leave this arena alive.

Maybe this wasn’t the way. Maybe it would have been best if he’d gutted you as soon as he was finished with Two.

The laugh starts small, just a scoff. It turns to a snicker, then a chuckle, which snowballs into a fit of hysterical cackling.

It’s not the poison gas this time.

This is raw, genuine laughter. Billowing from deep inside you and echoing boisterously through the four quadrants.

It’s not funny.

But you have to laugh - because of course.

Of course you would do this. Let your emotions bleed where they shouldn’t.

It’s your signature move.

Of course you both were going to make it to the finale.

Of course you now have to be killed by Konig, by a friend.

Wasn’t this the ending all along?

Konig looks alarmed, and then his eyes relax, and he gives a soft, three-note laugh, and shortly after he succumbs fully to the contagion. A song you’ve never heard, it’s hearty and warm, intertwining with yours to make a chorus of snorts and guffaws.

Your core doubles over your crossed arms, still generously bleeding and painting the blades of grass by your feet a deep crimson.

Tears well in your eyes and quickly trail down your cheeks as you gasp for air.

This is a full detox.

An expelling of every pent up, overwhelming emotion you’ve felt the past two weeks. The mistrust, the jealousy, the anger, the fear, the pain. Subjected to the heinous, brutal slaughters of children. It’s all flowing from you, and soon you’re not sure if you’re laughing or sobbing. Konig’s laughter dies down before yours, worried when he notices the hysterical tears streaming down your cheeks.

A hand extends in your direction, but he quickly withdraws it, helplessly staring on as you break down.

You can’t stop it, the dam has bursted. The whirlpool of thoughts that have been steadily rising since the reaping have spilled over and is pouring from you uncontrollably.

You have reached your absolute limit.

A genuine, broken wail leaves you, fully transitioned from a laughing fit to cries of pain.

When you pinch off your vision, heavy tears thrusted from your waterline, you’re met with the bounce of Eleven off his platform, narrowing in on his lifeless eyes.

His neck is already broken but the echoes of bones snapping against metal still rattle in your ears.

It’s followed immediately by the horrific image of the girl from District Eight. Her maimed wails and flooded eyes and exposed, moving muscle. The squelch of One’s eye, the haunting rip of her optic nerve, the feeling of her plunging herself on the spear - reverberating through the staff of the spear and up your slashed arms. The sound of Titan’s face being caved in, repeated blows that crack bones, countless razors tearing through his flesh on his dissent.

It’s on replay, the crunching of bone deafening you with its escalating grinds, the moans of the maimed, the rip of an eye from its socket, the sound of a thousands razors ripping through a faceless, limp body.

Your fists race to cover your ears, to stave off Eight’s moans of unimaginable pain, your eyes pinched tighter to rid the sight of Eleven’s brutal death, digging your nails into flayed palms to rid the feeling of an eye being gouged by your hand.

All of them cycle, ripping through you one after another.

You drop to your knees in the grass, core doubling over. Konig follows you down on one knee, one of his gentle hands finding your uninjured shoulder. When you raise your face again, it’s streaked with tears.

“I keep hearing it! I can’t stop hearing it!” You yell through a sob, followed by broken gasps as you curl toward your lap again.

“I know, I know,” He whispers.

“It won’t stop!” The tears are flowing relentlessly now, and you don’t even have the mind to wipe them away.

“Mein sieger, look at me,” His other hand lets a finger under your chin, gently guiding your jaw up.

Through the blur of welled tears you find him, those eyes peeking through the holes in his hood.

“It’s okay, it’s- it’s going to be okay,” He doesn’t seem too sure of this himself, his eyes darting around for a solution that doesn’t exist, but he pushes on, “I’m going to fix your cuts.”

You sniff, arms too soaked in blood to wipe away your snot.

“Just listen to me. Don’t listen to it. Just listen to my voice.”

He swallows, searching frantically on the spot for his next words.

His eyes widen in the presence of an idea, “Do you remember that day? In District Nine?”

You groan at the memory, an involuntary hiccup following.

“That boy,” He takes a breath while he pulls out a water bottle and a cloth from his pack, setting them on the grass,

“Spewing names at me. Blocking my path.”

His eyes find yours again, brows pinched as if he’s worried that he’s somehow making it worse, “And you, you just came out of nowhere. You let out the,” He looks to the grass again, and gives a quick, breathy laugh, “You let out the angriest noise I’ve ever heard.”

Konig helps you peel off your jacket as gently as he can, patiently sliding it off as he works around your wincing. He pulls the sleeves away from your gash so the fabric doesn’t swipe against it.

“You couldn’t see it, I’m sure, but the look on his face when you grabbed him by the back of the shirt-“ He cuts himself off, “I had never seen anything like it.”

He uses the water bottle to wash the blood away, letting you squeeze his hand with your good palm as you endure the pain brought forward by the water.

��For a second it looked like you were trying to dance with him, spinning him around.”

You remember it clearly, using your weight and pivoting on your heels to jerk him in a near complete circle, grip tight on the back of his shirt before you let go to slam him into the wall of the dingy hall.

“You got him against the wall - I thought for sure you broke his collar bones.”

The boy had looked genuinely afraid, entirely taken by surprise. Your forearm had dug into him, pinning him to the wall with enough force to portray threat. He had the look of a boy who had never expected any consequences to his behavior.

Konig moves down your arm, washing away the blood from shoulder to hand.

“I still remember what you said, word for word. You said,” He lifts his voice in a faint imitation of your spitting words, “‘I am so sick of you all picking on him. It’s more than obvious you do it because you’re ashamed of yourselves. If I catch you doing it again I’m going to show you what it’s like to pick on someone your own size!’”

He shakes his head and looks to the sky, “He had six inches and at least 40 pounds on you.”

You laugh with him this time, yours nasal from crying, following with a sniffle.

“And then you threw him away,” His hand lifts to briefly imitate the movement, “Shoved his back. He almost tripped flat on his face.”

He retrieves a second water bottle from his pack and a small tin canister he sits in the grass before he uses his teeth to remove his glove.

He continues, “He never did mess with me again. I think a few of his friends stopped too.”

“He’s scurried off at the sight of me ever since,” You sniff and your lips warp, “I always felt bad about that. Like I went too hard on the poor guy.”

When the boy had ran off, you met Konig’s eyes, your chest heaving as huffs left your parted lips, fists tight at your side. Pointed features softened when you saw his face, his wide eyes, sprung brows, and a slack jaw. You sucked in a sharp inhale and froze for just a moment before you got out of there, running from the shame that had begun to burn your skin as soon as you saw his expression.

He uses his gloveless fingertips to scoop up some sort of clear gel from the tin.

“He certainly got the message.”

He uses his free hand and a bit more water to wash out the wounds on your shoulder, gently pats the mutilated flesh with a washcloth, and then smears the gel on your skin.

Immediately you feel relief. The burning pain of the hedge’s slices completely dissipates, and you can’t help but sigh in content.

He gently rubs the medicine across your wounds, turning pink as the clear gel mixes with the blood rushing to replace what Konig wiped away.

“Sorry I freaked out,” You say quietly, a little embarrassed of your breakdown.

His brows lower, “It’s okay. I hear it too.”

“Why are you helping me?” You ask softly, “Why go through the trouble of nursing my wounds if you’re just going to kill me anyway?”

You wince as another stream of water splashes against the deep gash One left behind.

“Sorry,” he whispers, ignoring your question and dabbing the cloth against the deep wound. He quickly scoops up more medicine and slides it over the surface of the inflamed skin before too much more blood can flow out.

“Ever since that day I wanted to thank you. To talk to you. I just,” He cuts himself off, eyes darting around for a moment, “I didn’t know how.”

He gently wraps his gloved hand around your good forearm, bringing forward the slashes on your palm.

“I thought I scared you off.”

He laughs, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He pours water over your palm, another dab of the cloth, and a generous smearing of medicine.

All of your pain is gone. The medicine has completely numbed your wounds, cooling the unrelenting burn of the slashes and almost immediately staunches the flow of blood.

“It feels so much better,” you say with a sigh.

“Good,” he says.

Your voice drops softer, a curious hint to it, “Why didn’t you ever, y’know,” You pause, shoulders pulling up, “Defend yourself? You could have scared them off easy.”

He swallows, a gentle hand reaching for the bandages. He’s quiet for a moment, avoiding your eyes.

When he speaks his words are strained, “I’ve misjudged my strength before.”

Your brows shoot up at the implication. You so desperately want to probe further, but it’s clear from his tone this is a sore spot for him. You stay quiet instead, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve never gotten physical since, until,” He trails off again, abandoning his sentence.

“Yeah,” You say on a breathy exhale, letting him know he didn’t need to say it.

Lifeless eyes, crunching bones.

He unrolls the bandage and begins to loop it around the gash on your arm. He makes sure the bandages are firm on your wounds, slices it from the roll, and tucks the end into itself.

You get out a sheepish, “Thank you,”

He nods, his voice low, “Of course.”

He guides your arm out again, starting a new loop around with the bandage around your palm.

When he’s done, he packs the supplies into his backpack as you look down to your wrapped hand, rubbing over the nude-colored bandage with your thumb.

Konig grabs a clean cloth and pours a little water on it, extending it carefully towards your face.

“Here,” He says, his gloved fingertip just barely grazing you as he tilts your chin up. You obediently close your eyes, letting him run small circles with the wet cloth to wash away a mixture of dirt, One’s blood, and your own.

“Why are you doing this?” You whisper, low and gentle, but he doesn’t respond. When you open your eyes to meet his stare, his masked face reveals nothing to you, other than his unwavering focus on cleaning your face. Carefully massaging the damp cloth in circles over your skin, taking care not to apply too much pressure. He even wipes away your snot.

“Thank you,” You whisper, “For saving my life.”

There’s a pause before you add, “And for letting me come to terms with my death.”

He nods, looking down, “I guess we’re even now.”

You laugh, your voice regaining some of its strength, “I think yours might blow mine out of the water.”

He shrugs, “Well, I have to repay with interest. Took me long enough.”

He pauses for a beat, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He starts to dig in his pack, but stops when the ground begins to shake. His arms dart out of the pack to wrap around you and in return your hands claw at the collar of his vest to pull him close. You cling to each other to keep steady on your knees, sharing a wide-eyed, worried look through the vibration that shakes your bodies and blurs your vision.

The gamemakers must be angry at you both, not giving them the showdown they were owed. You can see the hedge walls parting, its previous entrances reappearing in their normal spot.

When the ground stops shaking, neither of you let go, clinging to each other as you stare frozen at the entrance. Shallow breaths leave parted lips as you tighten your grip on each other, waiting for the threat that’s soon to be released.

It doesn’t come.

Minutes pass before you turn to him.

“They might just want us to leave so they can take the bodies,” you whisper.

He gives a shaky nod, but you still stay frozen in your spot, holding onto each other and staring deeply at the entrance.

When both of your hearts slow, when fearful breaths ease, you decide to do what the gamemakers want you to do.

What choice do you have?

He stands first, his hand extended to help you up. When you get to your feet, though, you linger on his gloved hand and give him a squeeze before you let go.

He leads as you both creep towards the exit, still wary of the possibility of a cruel trap.

Konig wordlessly insists you wait for him to make sure the coast is clear using the same gesture he did when the careers approached you both in training, an arm shooting out in front of you as if to hold you back. He pokes his head out, careful not to make contact with the walls as he swivels his head to scan for threat.

“It looks safe,” He says, but you both stand for a bit longer before inching outside of the maze.

You’re surprised to find the arena entirely restored. The fall quadrant has reappeared, its trees as brilliant and colorful as ever. There’s no evidence of the avalanche, the snow returned to its original height and perfect pine trees retain their snow-dusted caps. The desert’s sandstorm has settled, the dunes not disturbed in the slightest.

Nothing attacks you as you leave the maze, careful steps in the direction of the cornucopia.

The gamemakers must have simply wanted to collect the bodies, because you both standby as the hovercraft appears.

When the claw descends, you turn away together. You can’t bear to watch the corpses of the girl from one and the boy from two be lifted into the air.

Without thinking, your hand reaches up to take a hand that sits much higher than yours. He accepts immediately, intertwining his large, calloused hand with yours. He gives you a gentle squeeze, and you know what it means. That he shares the pain you feel, that he is just as unsure, and just as lost as you.

You keep your fingers laced with his until you near the spot where the four quadrants meet, stopping about twenty feet away.

He sets his bag down, and you follow his lead when he sits in the plush grass.

The food just keeps coming.

Bread, cheese, apples, dried meat, stew, an orange, a weird, large brown nut of some kind?

With wide eyes and mouth already watering you ask, “Where did you get all this?”

He hesitates for a moment, “Some came with the backpack - the apples, the bread and the meat. The rest I got from sponsors.”

Your brows furrow, “You got sponsors?”

Of course he did. If you were a sponsor you’d pick him too.

“Yeah, what did you get?” He asks, picking up the apple and handing it to you.

“Well-“

Guttural moans, exposed muscle.

“District Eight sent me some things,” You say with a wince.

His head tilts, “They did?”

“Uh, yeah, I-” You clear your throat, the echoes of her pain on your ears, “I helped them- with something.”

He tilts his head again, and looks at you expectantly.

“The girl,” You start, “She- I helped her.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and his voice is soft when he speaks, “You allied with her?”

You shake your head and pull your knees to your chest. You touch your ribbon bracelet, soaked with blood.

“It was mercy. I - I - didn’t-“

“Sorry,” He says, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Price didn’t, though,” You say after a moment, almost embarrassed, “Send me anything, I mean.”

It hurts to know Price showered Konig with gifts while you got nothing.

You look to the sky and make a vague gesture that reads as annoyed. As if you were saying to the sponsors, to Price, ‘What, I wasn’t good enough? Well look, I made it this far!’

You don’t show it, but it stings. Logically you knew Konig was the smart bet. That if you were District Nine’s mentor, that if you were a Capitol better, you would have prioritized Konig’s survival over yours any day.

It still hurts having it confirmed, knowing that you were not good enough for Price’s attention.

Konig laughs as you raise the apple to your lips, “They just knew you were smart enough to make it without their help.”

You roll your eyes as your teeth pierce through the apple’s skin, sucking out its tart insides.

“I don’t know about that,” You say under your breath, but you appreciate him trying to ease the blow.

“It’s true,” He insists with an accompanying point, “Look, you’re here. You did it without anyone’s help. I surely would have died without it.”

“Plucky got lucky,” You say definitively, “And everyone knows it.”

Underneath it, though, you wonder if he’s right. The truth is, you really didn’t need help in the arena. You didn’t have to put that girl out of her misery - well, you did, but if your plea had gone unanswered you would have made it work regardless. Other than that, you haven’t really needed anything.

He shrugs, his voice a bit gruff as he puts his attention to spreading cheese on bread with his knife, “I don’t.”

You roll your eyes again, “You sound like Price. Even you were surprised to see me at the end.”

He shrugs, “I was just worried about you, is all.”

“Because you knew that I was probably going to die.”

“Because the arena is dangerous.”

“Exactly! It’s all,” You huff, “There’s a big luck element.”

He cuts you off with a nudge, offering a handful of cheese smothered bread, “Even your arguments are too smart for me.”

Your laugh makes your fingers brush against his when you take the bread from him.

You’re eager to sink your teeth into its crust, creamy cheese over soft perfect Capitol bread, you can’t help but groan into it.

“So good,” You say with a mouthful, not bothering to swallow, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

When you finish your slice of bread, he starts on another for you at once.

“Where have you been?” He asks, smearing the soft cheese over the golden brown crust, “I tried to look for you.”

You stare into the brightly colored leaves of the fall landscape before gesturing in the direction of the red maple and yellow ginkgo trees, “Over there.”

Konig nods, “That’s where I thought you went at the beginning. I tried to follow but I lost you, and when I went searching you were too clever for me to find.”

Your eyes are starting to ache from rolling at his compliments.

Just then, a silver parachute floats down to the sky.

You both look to each other with raised brows. When it lands on the grass a few feet from you, he stands to retrieve the canister before handing it over to you.

You struggle to pop it open, and inside you reveal a bundle of blackberries, a tin of juice, and a cookie.

“There’s a lot.”

“Price is making it up to you,” Judging solely by the crinkle in his eye, he grins as he sits in the soft grass, “With interest.”

You look to the sky again, squinting from the sun and giving a wave of thanks. You share the smile before you spread the food out with the others.

“Where have you been?” You ask, popping a berry into your mouth.

“The desert.”

“The desert?” You ask with an almost disgusted inflection, snapping your head in his direction, “How did you survive in the heat?”

Konig lifts his chin, pulling up his hood as he swipes along his neck, nails catching on a clear, razor thin mesh fabric that appears out of nowhere.

He stands to strip it from the outside of his clothes, handing you a long crumbled fabric of transparent mesh.

“Woah,” You get out, thinking back to his embrace, pushed right up to the snake-skin like fabric but never feeling it or noticing it. You roll the fabric between your fingers, “I didn’t even see it before. What is it?”

You stick a hand in one of the sleeves as he answers, and immediately your arm is hit with a cool breeze that chills your skin and raises goosebumps.

“I couldn’t even feel the heat,” he says, “And I figured it would be safest, since no one else should have been able to survive there without a pair.”

“What’s out there?” You ask with a tilt of your head, letting the body suit rest in your lap.

“Mostly sand and spiky plants,” He starts to peel the orange. “You probably would have figured out there was water in them long before I did.”

He flicks away part of the peel.

You find the fabric of the suit again. “Can I try it?”

He nods, and you stand, slipping into the mesh suit. It melds instantly to your clothes, disappearing into the fabric as you pull it over your body.

“This is so weird,” You say with a laugh at the breeze that hits your skin, “I’m gonna try the desert.”

He stands to follow in your wake, and you practically run to test it out, ignoring your sore ankles.

When your boots hobble unsteadily on sand, Konig stops close to the border, arms crossed as he watches you run around, “You’re right! I can’t even feel it.”

You stop and even do a few weak jumping jacks to work up a sweat, but your feet can’t make it far off the ground with the sand swallowing your feet.

“Try these,” He says, popping off a thin, undetectable shoe attachment from his boots and leaning forward to hand the pair to you.

You lift up one foot, brushing off grains of sand from the soles before you snap on the attachment. It shrinks from Konig’s incredibly large shoe size to yours, and when you put your foot down, instead of sinking into the sand, your boots conform to the uneven dips and grooves.

“Feels like I’m on solid ground,” You say before snapping the other attachment on. You test them out by jogging in circles.

You come to a stop once you’ve had enough, walking with ease back into the spring quadrant.

“No wonder you did well in the desert,” You pop off the attachments to return them to him, but he waves like he doesn’t need them, and you just toss them to the side.

You peel off the skin tight suit as well, the cool breeze now chilling you beyond comfort in the spring air.

“Oh!” Your face lights up, “There was another thing I wanted to try.”

You move to the spot where the four quadrants meet, in the mouth of the cornucopia, and look for just a moment before stepping on it.

You can feel all four temperatures at once, the heat of the desert, the freeze of the snow, a light spring and chill fall air. Overstimulating and causing your body to fire contradicting temperature responses.

You step back into the grass, “Weird.”

You turn to Konig, just steps behind, and he gives it a try too.

He gives a soft laugh once he’s had his turn.

“Very,” He says.

You return and settle on the grass near his pack, already eyeing up the food waiting for you.

You take a sip of juice and pass it to Konig, and he takes your offer and sets it down on the grass before continuing to peel the orange. You actually close your eyes to breathe in the scent of fresh citrus, sighing on your exhale.

“I missed food. I’ve been living on corn and seeds.”

“I’m sorry,” He says, voice soft and full of regret as he looks up from the half-peeled orange, “I wish I could have been there for you. I would have shared it all.”

“It’s my own fault,” You say, shifting as you settle on the grass, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

You stare off into the fall forest until Konig extends some orange slices to you. When you bite down, it bursts in your mouth and coats your tongue in its delicious insides. It actually sends a shudder down your spine at the overwhelming refreshment.

You both eat silently for a while, and your eyes eventually find the weird large brown seed he had set to the side.

You stick a hand out to feel it, its outside coated in thick coarse hairs, “What is this?”

Konig shrugs, “Not sure, it’s good though. Found it on a tree in the desert. He takes a spoonful of stew and speaks around a mouthful, “There’s this place I found. I think you’d like it.”

“You ate it without knowing what it was?”

He shrugs again, “I’m still alive.”

You snort, and he asks, “Do you want to see it? It’s very pretty.”

“The nut?” You ask.

“No,” he says with a breathy laugh, “The desert.”

“I thought it was just sand?”

“Mostly,” He picks up the large nut and holds it out, “There’s a place out there, though. There’s this big pool of water with a waterfall, you can see all the way to the bottom. It wasn’t hot there. Ach, and there’s these tall trees out there too.”

You give him a look like he’s speaking gibberish, your voice taught with disbelief to match, “In the desert?”

“Yes!” He says, ending on a laugh, “I’m not lying. It’s perfect there. We can wash off, too.”

He digs into his pack, pulling out a second temperature controlled suit, “I kept this just in case,” he trails off for a moment, abandoning the rest of his sentence, “It didn’t take up much room, anyway.”

He extends the wrinkled fabric out to you and gives it a little shake when you don’t take it, “Trust me.”

You look into those eyes that have shared so many unsure glances with you, and you can’t help but fold at how sure they look now.

“Okay,” you say, taking the suit from him. He grabs the discarded suit before tucking the food away in his pack.

At the border you both put them on, watching with fascination as they melt into your clothes and skin. He leads you through the sand, and while he doesn’t have an extra pair of shoe attachments, he insists you be the one who wears them.

“To help you keep balance,” You say, offering your unbandaged hand.

He graciously takes it in yours, and you both move through the sand side by side. He doesn’t seem to take your offer to support himself with you, but he keeps your hand in his. The mesh of the suit doesn’t interfere with the feeling of his hand pressed against yours, you can still feel the softness of his palm, the callouses just below the start of his fingers, the gentle squeezes as he navigates the dips in the sand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to switch for a little bit?”

“You have shorter strides anyway,” He says.

You walk in silence for a bit more, locked by the hands and aside from tired ankles, perfectly comfortable in the desert conditions.

“What do you think everyone thinks of this?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“The final two not,” You pause for a moment, “Fighting.”

“I don’t know.” He says, “Probably a little disappointed.”

“You think? I thought maybe it’s interesting, at the very least. It’s never happened before as far as I know of.”

He shrugs, “Not sure they need help making it interesting.”

“I guess you’re right.”

A few more paces and another silver parachute floats down from the sky.

You both still as it comes to a graceful stop in the sand just in front of your shoes.

You look at Konig, and he gestures to it, suggesting it’s yours. You carefully pick it up and pop open the canister to unsheathe a second pair of shoe attachments.

You give him a sly smile and hand them over, “Maybe they don’t mind after all.”

He waves a thanks into the sky and lets you steady him as he snaps them onto his shoes. You travel much quicker as you both glide over the sand that’s eager to swallow your feet.

“There’s those plants,” He says as he points to tall, cylindrical looking plants, some of them stretching ten feet in the air. It almost looks like they have arms, thick dusty green branches of itself splitting at the middles and reaching for the sky.

“Don’t touch them,” He warns.

“No?” You ask.

“Covered in spikes,” He says.

“Learn that the hard way?” You ask.

He huffs air out of his nose, rolling his eyes slightly, “It’s possible.”

You give a laugh, and he gives a glare at you from the corner of his half-lidded eyes. He follows it up with a soft squeeze of your hand, just to make sure you know he’s teasing.

There’s a roar in the distance, the sound of a steady, consistent rumble.

“What is that noise?” You ask, a bit frantic.

“No, no,” He reassures, “It’s okay. It’s the waterfall.”

You raise a brow, still skeptical.

As you approach, your face falls as you take in the oasis before you, “You weren’t kidding.”

“I told you,” He says with a squeeze.

Wedged in the height of a large sand dune are large, slick slabs of rock that water spews over, a cascade of thousands of gallons pouring down into a crystal blue lake of water. The pool is ringed by tall, slender trees that shoot straight up into the sky, leaves only in a puff at the very top, those large brown seeds clustered together under the leaves. It doesn’t look like any tree you’ve ever seen in District Nine.

The roar of the waterfall is so loud, you have to raise your voices to talk to each other.

“Is it safe?” You ask. You don’t trust something that’s this pretty in the arena, the same way you didn’t trust the trees or the vegetables in the fall quadrant.

He nods, “I spent a lot of time here. It’s safe.”

You near the edge of the lake, where you break your hold on each other so he can kneel in the sand and dig in his pack. He pulls out both of your jackets, heavily stained with a tapestry of various tributes’ blood.

He begins to wash them in the pool as you scrutinize the water, hesitantly poking your finger in.

It’s clear all the way down, easily seeing the sea plants at the bottom that dance under the warp of the water. There’s a few fish swimming in the pool, enjoying a spot of splotchy shade the leaves of a tall tree casts. They don’t look like any fish you’ve ever seen, brilliant colors and striped designs.

“Thank you,” You say, shaking away your wet hand, “For bringing me here.”

“Of course,” He doesn’t look up from his scrubbing.

You sit back from your squat, and you try to unlace your boots before you’re stopped.

“Oh, right,” You say, remembering the mesh bodysuit.

“You can take it off now,” He says, “It’s comfortable here.”

You hesitate before stripping off your suit, tucking it into Konig’s backpack to avoid sand. You unlace your shoes, peel off your socks and stash them neatly in the mouths of your boots. After, you roll your pant legs up and dip a foot in carefully.

“What happened to your ankles?” Konig says, horrified when he sees the deep pink bruises you’ve revealed.

“Ugh,” You groan as you step both your feet in the water, “So embarrassing. I got caught in someone’s snare.”

“A snare?”

“Yeah,” You nod, watching your toes wiggle into the sand, “I figured it out though. They had me strung up by my feet upside down.

“How did you get out?” He says, amazed.

“Used my belt to hoist me up to my boots. It hurt so bad.”

“Did they find you?”

You shake your head, “Well, I don’t know if it was his trap but the boy from District Eight heard me.”

He goes silent, staring at you with wide eyes.

You shrug, “He didn’t hurt me, he just kept asking about the girl from his district.”

You swallow hard, and look down to the wrist dawning your bracelet.

Your voice is strained when you speak, “Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“What he did to her?”

His expression drops, taking on a sudden serious tone at the haunted look on your face.

“What?”

He studies your face intensely, and your eyes pinch in a hard blink.

“What happened?” He asks.

“I think he volunteered just so he could be the one to,” you hesitate, “Kill her.”

You were way off. About the boy from District Eight and his companion.

About Konig.

You hate being wrong.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” You say, “I don’t understand why he would risk his life just to end someone’s else’s, when she was probably going to die anyway?”

“Hate can’t be reasoned with,” He says without much thought, and you pause your wading, digesting his words.

He’s right. It reminds you of what Price said, about spite getting the best of you.

You couldn’t imagine hating someone so much you’d volunteer just to get the chance to be the one who gets to end someone’s life.

One of your feet wiggles into the sand, the other swirling in the water.

You watch as Konig wrings out the jackets, walking over to a nearby tree to tie the sleeves around its trunk to dry.

When he returns, sitting himself down at the edge of the water, he starts to scrub the mixture of yours and Titan’s blood from his thick gloves.

“Your bandages should be good now,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“Your cuts. They should be good now.”

You wade back out of the shallow pool, brows furrowed as you unwrap the bandages on your palm.

In just a short time, the medicine has reduced the inflamed jagged slashes on your palm to thin, faint pink lines.

You mutter under your breath, your awe drowned out by the waterfall.

You peel the other bandages off, finding all of your cuts to be in the last stages of the healing process. You hadn’t been able to feel their sting since Konig applied the medicine. Even the deep gash on your forearm has sealed, only a baby pink, decently sized scar in its place.

“Okay?” He asks, looking up at you with a squint.

“Perfect,” You say, rubbing over the cuts on your shoulder that has reduced to scars the size of papercuts, “Did you get that from a sponsor? It must have been expensive.”

“No, actually,” He hangs onto an ‘äh,’ for a moment, hesitating before he responds, “Found it with some other supplies.”

You give a slow nod, not quite believing his answer.

He’s a bad liar.

He rests his gloves on his pack, and fills both of your water containers. While he does this, you tuck Konig’s token into a pocket of his pack, strip off your shirt and kick off your pants, careful not to get sand caught in the wrinkles of the cloth. Now down to your sports bra and underwear, you drape your clothes over his pack.

You stare at the bloody ribbon bracelet, giving it a touch.

You gently untie your sloppy knot, and kneel in the sand to gently rinse out the ribbon.

“What’s that?” Konig asks gently, but curiously.

“Uh,” You pull it from the water, smoothing your thumb over the wet fabric, “It came with the bread. From District Eight.”

He nods slow, and doesn’t say anything else.

You lay the wet ribbon carefully over your clothes to dry.

As you wade deeper into the water, you take slow, careful steps through the sand until you’re submerged to your shoulders.

You let out a pleased sigh, shutting your eyes to block out the bright sun as you soak in the soothing pool.

You use your hands to work a week's worth of blood, dirt, and grime from your skin.

When you’re satisfied, you rinse your hair, giving it a wash in the still part of the pool, combing your fingers through wet strands and rinsing out the collection of dirt and dried blood.

You hum yourself a little tune as you do, only loud enough for you to hear.

The waterfall, while noisy, is relaxing. It reminds you of the sound a cool room makes, or a really strong steady wind. The steady rumble gives your ears something to focus on and keeps the obsessive, intrusive even, thoughts at bay.

When you check on Konig, he’s working stains off your shirt & pants, his attention locked on to the soiled fabric.

You flip to your front and swim back to the edge of the pool. When the bank gets shallow, you keep your body submerged, using your hands in the sand to pull yourself closer to his disturbance in the water. Only the top half of your head peeks out, much like an alligator does as he waits for prey to come along.

“Hello, little fish,” He says, not taking his eyes off the clothes.

You can’t help but giggle before you take in a small gulp of water, lift your head, and squirt a stream in his direction.

“Huch!” He pulls your shirt and pants closer to him in reflex, as if somehow the water was going to soil them more than the blood and dirt. He only looks in your direction a brief moment before he smiles at the sand and returns to his scrubbing.

You give a pleased, mischievous giggle.

“Not very nice, little fish,” He scolds, but you can tell he’s not really annoyed, just amused.

It feels good to be silly. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this relaxed.

Surprisingly, the impending death is not weighing on you. The thought that you will have nothing to worry about tomorrow actually makes it incredibly easy to not care about today. You have been prey these last few days, craning your neck at every noise, fleeing at trouble, and always wondering when and where and how you’ll be slain.

Now you know.

It will happen tonight, at a location of your choosing, and at the hands of a friend.

Even with every eye in Panem on you, from here, there’s no one but Konig, and there is no longer a reason to distrust him. Before you had suspected that every move he made was somehow a strategy for his survival. Now that he has his win, and you are to be laid to rest today, there is no need for you to have your guard up.

Only Konig has to worry about holding up appearances now.

On your final day, you are free to be silly, to be weak, to be scared, to be human.

“Come swim,” You coax.

“Almost done,” He says, standing to tuck the rest of your clothes into the taught sleeves of the jackets, letting them dangle to dry in the warm air against the tree. He begins to shed his gear and washes them as well.

You make your way back out to the deep, and when the water is up to your shoulders you idle to watch the waterfall. Gallons and gallons of never ending water cascade over the shelf of rock, free falling forty feet into the pool, and creates white, foam-like bubbles under its downpour.

Hesitantly you swim closer, the roar drowning out more of the world as you approach. The sand disappears from underneath you, kicking your feet and paddling your arms to keep your head above the surface. You have to fight the ripples and current the waterfall creates as you near.

There’s a large, smooth rock just to the left and behind the steady pour. You pull yourself up to perch on it, resting your heels against its curve into the water.

You carefully stick your hand into the stream, and quickly pull it back when you feel the water’s intense pressure.

You find your hand is unscathed by the powerful stream, and stick your hand in again.

Once deciding it’s safe, you slip back into the pool and let yourself be engulfed in the waterfall.

It’s a really, really intense shower.

It feels good, a massage almost. The water is a perfect, comfortable temperature, not too cold or too warm.

When you’re done with the waterfall, muscles noticeably untensed, you emerge from the heavy rain and catch Konig on the other end of the pool. He’s completely shed of his gear and now shirtless, all the clothes washed and drying off.

With just the top of your heading poking above the water, you find you can’t help the way your eyes linger, even from across the pool.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him without his gear obscuring him since the bloodbath, and the first time you’ve ever seen him without a shirt on.

When you remember you’re on screen, you quickly flick your gaze away, pretending to inspect some fish and hope the water conceals the flush of your cheeks.

You’d never had the opportunity to be with a boy back in District Nine. It’s frustrating, in every sense of the word. It also tends to make you feel fuzzy around just about any boy your age. That dizzy, electric heat you felt when he grazed your arm in training, when you snuggled up to him that night before the games.

And this? A shirtless boy who happens to be particularly large and sculpted?

It’s making your throat go tight and your mouth dry.

It’s unfortunate that you’ll never get the chance to be with someone.

You actually have to look up at the cloudless, orange desert sky to avoid lingering on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

You wade back to where your toes can touch, keeping yourself fully submerged. You deem it appropriate to look at him when you hear him make a half dive into the water.

You can see his body through the warped filter of the water, and you can’t help but let out a laugh when he pops his head up, making a splash as he shakes the drips from his hair.

He catches your eyes for a moment before he looks away, turning slightly so he’s not facing you.

There’s an awkward pause before you clear your throat, extending a finger under the water, “Have you ever seen fish like this before?”

You point to a cluster of pink, purple, and bright orange fish hanging in the shade.

“No,” He answers, “They’re very pretty, though.”

“I’m gonna’ say hi,” You say, creeping up to the shade, before fully submerging yourself. You open your eyes under the water to get a good look at their designs. Almost none of them are mono-colored, and none of them dull. The striped patterns are all different, some of them that go up and down uniformly, some that have wiggled stripes, others zig-zagged.

You reach a hand out in their direction and watch them flee, their fins waving elegantly through the water as they zip away.

You pop your head out of the water with heavy breath.

“Did they say hi back?” Konig asks from behind you.

“I think so,” You take another breath and turn to him, “It was all, ‘blub blub blub.’”

“My fish speak is rusty,” He rubs his chin, looking curiously into the water, “But I’m pretty sure they slighted you.”

You giggle again, not necessarily at his joke, but because he’s playing along with you. You’re thankful he’s being silly too, that he’s humoring you on your final day.

You take another deep inhale and go back under, swimming to the bottom to retrieve a shell you noticed while fish spotting.

It’s a scallop shaped shell, the size of your palm. Mostly a deep pink dotted with splotches of white. You bring it over to Konig, who takes your offer without looking.

He marvels at it for a moment, running his thumb over the ridges in the shell. He blindly hands it back to you, and you frown.

You drop the shell as you plant your feet firmly on the sand, letting the water lap at your shoulders. Your body is still except for the gentle wave of your hands as they glide through the soothing weight of the pool.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yes,” He says, still slightly turned away from you. His cupped hands bring water just above the surface, watching it as it drains through his fingers and trickles to the pool, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

You’re worried he might be upset with you, the way he’s been avoiding you since you got to the oasis.

You squint your eyes, lowering yourself in the water until it’s just your eyes and nose peeking out. You take another mouthful of water, and arch it in his direction.

“Oh?”

He does it again, those bright eyes finding you and flicking away as soon as he realizes he’s looking at you. It reminds you of how you had tried to avoid looking at him so many times before, fighting the urge to lean on him.

“That,” You say, pointing at him, “Did I do something?”

“No!” He says quickly, looking to the sky, “I just - you’re, y’know,”

“What?” You ask, more laugh than question.

“Y’know,” He drags the word out a bit, hoping you’ll understand what he’s alluding to without having to say it, but you make him.

His face turns pink, his words mumbled and forced, “In your underwear.”

“So are you!” You say, face warped in a smile and a finger pointing at him.

“Well, yeah, but,” He doesn’t have a defense.

“Should I put my clothes back on?” You ask.

“No!” He says too quickly. He clears his throat, “I want you to be comfortable, I mean. It feels wrong to look at you. I don’t want to, äh, stare.”

“So respectful,” You say with a roll of your eyes.

And then you squirt him with another arch of water.

His nerves shed as he laughs, finally turning towards you and meeting your eyes, “You asked for this, little fish.”

You let out a squeak as he takes his flat palm and slams it down on the surface of the water, sending a splash in all directions. You sneak away with a dive, kicking your feet to make distance before resurfacing.

You’re already laughing before you’re back in the air, having to take deep inhales to catch your breath.

It’s a no-holds-barred-all-out splash war after that.

“Truce! Truce!” You yell, breathless from giggles and squeals, hands up in defense and head turned away from the line of fire.

He stops mid-splash with a big grin, “I accept your surrender.”

“That is not what a truce means!”

He makes a movement with his hand, threatening to skim the surface again.

“Okay, okay! I surrender,” you squeak out.

He hums in approval and gently lowers his hand back into the water.

There’s another pause, and squint eyes flit around the oasis, and land on the top of the waterfall.

“Have you been up there?”

“Not really,” He says, “I think it’s just sand.”

“Where’s the water coming from?” You ask, and he just shrugs.

You wade to the side of the pool, pulling yourself up to the sandy shore.

You’re dripping, hair clinging to your skin, kicking up sand that sticks to your wet feet and calves while you struggle to climb the dune.

At the top of the waterfall, you can see it’s clearly man-made. The water flows from the thin space between the shelf of rock and the sand dune it sticks out from.

With careful feet, you climb onto the slick shelf and scoot towards the edge, peering down at the pool below while the water parts for your feet and rinses the sand from your soles.

Konig’s waving his hands and yelling something at you, but you can’t hear his words over the roar of the waterfall.

There’s no rocks directly below the waterfall, and you know it’s deep enough there.

Even if you did hurt yourself, you were going to die anyway, right?

After working up some courage, you close your eyes, clamp your nose, and jump, kicking off the edge of the rock to push yourself out from the waterfall.

For two or three seconds you are falling with a shriek, limbs flailing before they break the surface of the water and send you plunging deep below.

Before you can surface, Konig has met you underwater, a firm grip on your arm as he yanks you up. When you both break into the air, he grabs your shoulders, letting go once he meets your eyes.

You both speak at the same time, frantic and worried.

“What?! What’s wrong!?” You say, swiveling your head to look for the threat.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh,” you meet his eyes again when you realize there’s no danger, releasing the hold on the dip of his shoulders you didn’t realize you had.

“It’s fine. You should try it,” You say as you rearrange your wet, messy hair.

He shakes his head, “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Oh no,” You say with a roll of your eyes, “What do I have to lose, a couple hours?”

Konig studies your face, eyes flicking around your features with a frown.

“Okay, sorry,” You give a wave of dismissal, “Didn’t mean to make it uncomfortable by bringing up my imminent death.”

You wag your eyebrows at him, “I’m gonna’ do it again.”

“No,” He says firmly.

“Mm, guess you’ll have to stop me,” You shrug, starting in a swim to the edge of the pool.

A gentle but firm hand wraps around your calf and pulls you back in, “You should stay here, little fish.”

“Hey!” You protest, flipping over in the water and kicking your feet away from him, “You got water up my nose.”

He lets go of your leg and holds his hands up in mock apology, “Sorry, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Sorry,” you mock nasally as you rub out the burn from your nose, “But I want you to jump with me.”

“No way,” He says.

“You’re really going to deny a dead girl’s last request?” You narrow your eyes with a playful grin, “I didn’t realize you were so cold.”

He lets out a defeated huff.

No one can say no to the dead girl card.

He looks around the oasis with a low hum before revelation projects on his features, “What if we played a game instead?”

Your eyebrows perk up, “Like what?”

You can’t remember the last time you played a game. Once you’re old enough to work the fields in District Nine, between work, school, and trying to stay fed, there isn’t much time for games.

“What if,” He says, rubbing a finger along his jaw, clearly making up the rules on the spot. His face flashes with another idea before he takes a deep inhale and goes under, resurfacing with your pink and white shell, “One of us throws it, and the other tries to catch it before it sinks to the bottom?”

“Okay,” You say, with an almost childish eagerness to your voice.

He gives a pleased smile, having successfully redirected you to a less dangerous time-passer.

In your final moments, you want to be carefree, you want to have fun.

You’re grateful Konig is willing to let you have this before your death, because you know he doesn’t have to. He’s entitled to his win whenever he wants. He could have killed you in the finale, and he could have been back in the Capitol by now, indulging in his victory.

“I’ll throw first?” He asks.

You nod, blowing bubbles under the surface of the water while you wait for him to wade to the side of the pool. You can’t help but stare at the strong arms that leave the warp of the water, the glistening muscles of his back tensing as he pulls himself up to the shore. You can see the definition from here. They cast shadows, for fucks sake.

Your bubbles peter out, and you can feel the eyes again.

All of Panem.

You sink further into the water, hair dancing and curling like the sea plants below as you stare at your wrinkled fingertips. It’s the best you can do to hide yourself. To fall through the floor, just as you so often wish to do.

“Ready?” He calls.

You nod with an expectant smile, priming yourself.

It’s ridiculous, the shape of him. But not for the reason the people back home make fun of him for.

He looks like he was chiseled from marble, crafted with millions of flawless strikes to reveal what can only be a higher being’s idea of human excellence. It’s mesmerizing, watching his muscles push and pull against each other with each of his movements. Each moment a unique mosaic made of strong flesh interlocked in perfect puzzle pieces that support his being. The bright sun reflects off water droplets and makes his entire body throw light.

He’s radiant.

You’ve been around shirtless boys in the fields of District Nine, and it’s always been noticed by you, but this, this feels downright erotic. It feels wrong to -

It feels wrong to even look at him.

“Did you forget how to play?” He calls.

“What?”

“You didn’t catch it.”

There’s a beat.

“Oh, oh! Yes,” You have to laugh, because what you really want to do is drown yourself.

You retrieve the shell, staying underwater as long as you can manage. Your cheeks are burning when you surface, holding the shell in the air with a wave.

You toss it back to him, and immediately look away.

Maybe it would be best if he just killed you now, actually.

You keep your gaze to the water, waiting for the splash of the shell before you dive, feet kicking and arms rowing as you aim for the shell.

You catch it just inches from the pool’s sandy floor, displaying it proudly as you surface.

“Your turn!”

Without missing a beat you launch the shell straight up into the air, watching it arc before it makes its dissent from the sky.

There’s a moment of alarm that spreads on his features before he springs into action, an impressive head first dive from the bank into the water, quickly retrieving the shell and resurfacing with a laugh.

“Hey!” He says.

You give him an innocent shrug, a telling smile on your face.

You take turns diving for the shell for a while, he shoots down your idea of trying to catch it after jumping from the falls, and eventually you end up trying to see how long you can hold handstands under the water.

Once you both wind down, you float for what feels like hours, resting your eyes from the desert sun, listening to the crash of water on the surface of the pool. Soft, gentle waves lap at your skin, and at some point you and Konig link the crook of your elbows together to keep from floating away. You try really hard to ignore the feeling of his hard, pronounced, bare bicep wrapped around yours.

“We should make our way back soon,” He says as the sun sinks lower in the sky, “Weird animals in the desert at night.”

You nod in agreement, worn out by the swimming and sunbathing, ankles sore from exertion.

You wade back out to the shore, wringing out your hair and shaking off drops of water as you coat your feet in a generous layer of sand.

He retrieves your now dry clothes, nice and toasty from the sun. Konig offers to rinse your calves off, using the water from the bottles as you teeter on one foot. He gives you a cloth to dry off and lets you use his forearm to steady yourself while you slip your sock and boot back on. You repeat the process for your other foot, and return the favor for him.

You both dress in your clean clothes, Konig’s gear and the haunting mask making a reappearance while you return your token to its temporary home and carefully refasten the ribbon around your wrist.

As you’re both slipping the body suits back on, Konig gestures to your bruised ankles, “Does it hurt? To walk on them?”

“They’re sore, but I’ll manage.”

“I can carry you,” He offers.

“What?” You ask with a puffy exhale, as if he told you a bad taste joke.

“I could carry you back,” He repeats, as casually as one would offer a glass of water.

“Oh, no,” You say with a wave of your hand, averting your gaze, “That’s okay.”

“Are you sure? You probably shouldn’t be walking on it, you might make it worse.”

“Oh no,” you say in the same cadence to his objection to the waterfall, generous sarcasm paired with a roll of your eyes, “Won’t be my problem for long.”

There’s a pause, his eyes twitching before they relax, “Well if the dead girl’s wish to have sore ankles, who am I to deny her?”

You blow air out your nose, another roll of your eyes.

No one can say no to the dead girl card.

“C’mere,” you say with a raise of your arms.

He leans down, letting you wrap your arms tightly around his hooded neck. He cradles your back with one forearm, his other reaching down to scoop you up by your knees, literally sweeping you off your feet.

He hoists you up like you weigh nothing. He keeps your side close to his core, holding you just under his vest. You keep one arm slung around the back of his neck, resting your forearm on his backpack as he carries you along. Your other arm drapes over your torso, fingers threading into a pocket on his vest. There’s a warmth blossoming on your cheeks that you hope the cameras can’t see as you bury yourself into his shoulder, your cheek pressed up against the drape of his hood.

“Thank you,” you whisper into the crook of his neck.

“Of course, little fish,” He says, the low vibration of his words tickling your side. You give him a soft hum in return.

You don’t seem to be holding him back at all, not fazed by the extra weight. You both share a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, him lulling you as each step rocks you in his arms, your feet swaying and eyes fluttering shut.

When he gives you a gentle squeeze, you open your eyes and find he’s carried you all the way to the border in the spring quadrant.

He lets you down slowly, and you take your time stretching out your limbs.

Konig spreads out your clean jackets side-by-side, a makeshift blanket to separate you both from the grass. After you both strip off the temperature suits, you lay your upper half on your jacket, threading your fingers together and resting them under your ribcage.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, unpacking the food from his backpack.

You hum affirmative.

He removes his hood, and both eat in a comfortable silence, sleepy from the long trek and the day in the sun.

“Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to do, but never got the chance?” You ask after a long silence, having spent it pondering your approaching death.

He nods, finishing a swallow of orange before he speaks.

“Yeah,” He says without clarifying.

“Like what?” You ask.

He gives you a long, drawn-out stare before he shifts his attention to his bread, “I don’t know, there’s a lot of things.”

You let the silence play out, looking at him expectantly.

“Like, äh. I’ve always wanted to have,” He trails off for a moment, flicking his gaze to the snow behind you, “A close friend.”

“You really didn’t have any friends in District Nine?”

You knew he was an outcast, you didn’t realize he was completely isolated.

“No,” He says, ripping a chunk of bread from what remains of the loaf, “Is there anything you wanted to do?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, ripping a cookie in half and taking a bite. You take a moment to savor it with a hum, “I always thought I’d’ve found love by now, y’know?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“I’ve never had anything romantic, I guess. No boys, or anything.”

“Really?” He asks, genuinely surprised.

“Nope.”

“Did you like anyone?” He asks carefully, a slight squint in his eyes.

“Eh,” You say with a shrug. You quirk a brow at him, a devilish grin spreading on your face as you pop a blackberry between your teeth, “Did you?”

His eyes go wide, tensing in his spot. A faint glow creeps onto his cheeks.

You laugh, “It’s okay, you don’t have to say. Wouldn’t want you to go home and have to face her.”

He swallows, looking down to a chunk of bread he rolls between his fingers.

“Yeah,” He says evenly, with a bit of a strain, “I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance.”

You give a high hum and another shrug, “Well, you never know. You know how they are with the victors. She’ll probably be throwing herself at you with everyone else.”

He gives a slow nod, using his knife to spread cheese over his now smushed bread.

There’s another silence, both of you sharing the cold stew, dipping chunks of bread into it.

“What’d’ya think Price makes of this?” You work your bread to pick up a piece of carrot, “You think he’s proud of us?”

He scoffs, “I’m not sure what else we could do.”

Something comes to mind, and he laughs before continuing, “Do you think you should confess…” He trails off, raising his brow and tilting his head. It takes you a moment to realize he’s alluding to the whiskey incident on the train.

“Oh, absolutely not,” You say, “He can’t know. And you have been sworn to secrecy, and I expect that to be honored in my death.”

He gives a small laugh and holds up a palm as if giving an oath, “Alright, your secret is safe with me.”

You smile in approval, taking another bite of the cookie and savoring the dessert before offering it to Konig, who shakes his head.

“Did you know about his plan?”

He tilts his head, “What plan?”

“About-“ You cut yourself off, trying to word this without giving away you had absolutely no idea you were friends until a couple hours ago, “About tricking the other tributes into thinking we were allies.”

He squints, and shakes his head.

“He-“ You take another pause to carefully select your words, “He paired us up in training, matched our outfits, and the interview?”

Konig looks to the side, still not understanding.

“The other tributes - they thought we were allies. So instead of everyone wanting to hunt you down, they had their focus split on both of us. So,-“ You pause for a moment, “They had incentive to keep me alive. It’s like - You know how Titan didn’t kill me when he had the chance? Because he wanted to use me against you?”

He nods slow.

“Did Price tell you about this?” He asks, playing with his fingers.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head.

“How do you know?”

“Titan- ah, I had a run in with Titan before.”

He stares at you, eyes snapping open, “What? Is that what happened to your arm?”

“No, no. That was District One.”

“The boy?”

“The girl.”

“What happened with Titan?” He asks.

You scoff, “I told him to eat sand. And then he did.”

“You fought him?”

You touch the healed nick Titan made on your neck.

“Sort of,” You shrug, “He pinned me down, and he wanted me to call for you - that’s how I knew. He didn’t kill me right away, so I had a chance to escape.”

“How?”

A smug, sly grin blooms on your face, “I made him eat sand.”

Konig laughs, leaning back, “What?”

“He pinned me to the ground in the desert, so I blinded him with sand,” Your smile widens, eyes squinting mischievously, “I bet it hurt.”

He gives a weak laugh. There’s a pause, and his smile falls, “Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, “No, well he choked me, and gave me a paper cut.”

You touch your cut again.

“But that’s a small price to pay for the satisfaction.”

He nods, not finding it as funny as you. There’s another beat, and he speaks toward the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

You wave your hand and swallow hard, your voice a bit more broken than you would have liked, “I’ve been through worse.”

There’s another pause.

His eyes find yours again, you can feel the burn of his stare, but you don’t meet his stare.

“You want to talk about it?” He asks.

You gnaw on your lower lip, considering it.

You shake your head slowly.

He nods, and whispers, “I get it.”

You both get lost in another silence. A good chunk of time passes, and your mind has drifted back to your impending death. More curious than anxious.

“What’ll you think it’ll be like?” You ask.

“What?”

“Death.”

“Oh,” He looks to the dirt, his hand coming to his chin, “I think it’ll be peaceful. Like,” He thinks for a moment, “Sleeping, or coming home maybe.”

You give a nod.

“I hope so,” You say with wist.

There’s another pause, and then you ask, “How do you want to do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Y’know,” You say, flicking your gaze awkwardly to the side.

“Oh,” He says, as if he hadn’t considered it yet, “I think it should be how you want it to be. We don’t have to do it yet, though.”

“I know,” you say, “But it’s hard not to think about it. Part of coming to terms with it, I guess. I just want to know.”

“What do you want to do?”

You peer out, staring at the yellow and red leaves of the fall forest, taking a sip of juice.

“I don’t know. As long as it’s quick.”

He just nods, looking down to the food spread between you.

“Sunset,” You say.

”Huh?” He asks.

“Sunset, I want to do it at sunset.”

He gives a swallow, his eyes darting around.

“Okay,” He says, low and soft.

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, lowering your back flush in the dirt. One hand cushions your head, the other sliding blades of grass between the gaps of your fingers.

“I think I’m okay with it,” You let out a long, soothing exhale, “With dying. I just hope it’s nice.”

“Me too,” He mumbles.

You hum, nestling further into the jacket and the soft grass.

“Want anymore food?” He asks.

“No, I’m okay,” You say, keeping your eyes closed.

You can hear him shuffling the containers over the whistle of a light spring breeze, setting them in the grass above your head.

He cleans off the knife he used to spread the cheese, lays down beside you on his jacket, and for a while you both lay. Soaking in the sun hung over the desert quadrant, but no more searing than the warmth of a gentle spring sun.

“What would you do different?” You ask with your eyes closed, “If you could do your life over again.”

He thinks on it for a moment, “I’d probably talk to you sooner.”

A smile spreads on your face, “That’s it?”

“Yeah I think that’s the big one,” he says with a smile.

You respond by giving him a light tap on his side, as if telling him to be serious.

“It’s true,” He says, “There are other things. But that one sticks out the most. I would have really liked having a friend in District Nine.”

“What about you?” He asks after another pause.

You intertwine your own fingers together and lay them just below your chest with a hum.

“Lots of things,” You huff, “Probably wouldn’t have chugged that whiskey.”

He laughs, hearty and genuine enough to make your chest flood with warmth.

“I thought we were keeping it a secret.”

“Eh, what do I have to lose?” You throw a defeated hand in the air and talk to Price, “Couldn’t handle my liquor.”

He laughs again, “You’ve always been too brave for your own good.”

You scoff, “I’m not brave.”

“Sure you are,” He says, and begins to rattle off a list as if he had it ready to go, “That boy, the whiskey, the balcony, Titan, the waterfall. Too brave.”

“I’m not brave, I’m just angry.”

“And you don’t think everyone else gets angry too? The only difference between being angry and being brave is doing something about it.”

You open your eyes and tilt your head at him, squinting at the sunlight.

“There’s a lot of things I get angry about that I don’t do something about.”

“Things out of your control?”

“Well,” You trail off, understanding you’re in dangerous territory, bordering along blasphemous criticism of the Capitol, “Yeah but, the things I do get spiteful about is self-destructive. It’s reckless. I don’t think, I just act - and I always regret it.”

“Do you regret what you did to that boy?”

You take a deep breath, eyes darting away momentarily.

“I- I was ashamed of my behavior, yeah. I probably should have went about it a different way but I’m glad they stopped picking on you. Something good that came of it.”

He gives you a ghost of a smile and nods.

Any fear you’ve had about the gamemakers cutting your pact short has dissipated, convinced that the drama and the heartbreak and the tragic nature of it all was certainly some of the best television ever seen. You’re sure they’re eating this up in the Capitol.

Another peaceful silence falls over you, and Konig is the one to break it this time.

“You’ve really never had a boyfriend?”

You let out a snort, “No, really.”

“Kissed a boy?”

“No,” You say through a laugh, “Why?”

He shrugs, “Just hard to believe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He looks up to the sky, “Just thought boys would throw themselves at you.”

You scoff, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

He goes stiff as he stumbles through his words, “Äh, well, you’re - y’know.”

“I don’t,” You say.

“Pretty,” He says, just loud enough to carry.

Another smile creeps on your face.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask in a smug tone with suspended disbelief, elbows and forearms propping yourself up as your top half twists to face him.

His cheeks flush as he stares at the lush grass. His words come out mumbled and broken, fingers fidgeting, “Well, I- sure, I do.”

You laugh, “Well, thank you.”

Your eyes give him a quick full over scan, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You settle back into your jacket.

“You’re smart too,” He blurts out after a pause.

You look to him again, meeting his eyes before he looks away, landing on his own fidgeting fingers.

“You think so?” You ask with a raise of a brow.

“Oh, yeah,” He says assuredly, with a nod that’s just a bit too fast, “Quick.”

Your hold each other’s stare for a moment.

There’s really no reason for him to lie to you at this point. What he’s sharing with you seems genuine, unless he’s playing an angle with the audience you don’t understand. Brownie points for being nice to the dead girl, maybe?

His eyes are indecipherable, pupils mapping your face as he soaks in the features that furrow as they try to understand his intentions.

He nods again, slight but quick movements.

You both hold each other’s stare - another moment of charged tension - there’s something happening that’s difficult for you to place. It’s as if there’s some big orchestrated plan you’re being left out from, but it’s just you and Konig here.

You and Konig and all of Panem.

Your eyes slightly narrow as you try to figure out what he would stand to gain from lying, why he feels the need to say these things now, and why you are struggling to come up with a retort, an answer, or to even break his stare.

You’re both stuck, caught in this moment weird moment of uncertainty as you have so many times before, but instead of sharing in the unease, it’s directed at each other.

The corner of your lip perks up, your eyebrows lowering in genuine yet hesitant acceptance, “Thanks.”

He nods, breaking the stare. He plays with his fingers and continues, his voice low and soft, “You always say what’s on your mind. I’ve always- I wish I could do that.”

You continue to bore into him as he watches his own fingers lace and unlace.

“Never done me any favors,” You say, combing through every incident your big mouth has gotten you into trouble.

“Worked on me,” he says quietly with a shrug.

You look at him again, confused on where this is coming from.

“Worked on you?” You repeat.

He starts, fumbling for his words, “Wha- äh, I mean, I meant that I just, I admire that, is all.”

He’s tearing fistfuls of grass from the dirt.

“What about you?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

He shakes his head.

“You ever fooled around with anyone?”

His cheeks flush, his eyes darting around, “No. Never had the chance.”

“I think that’s one of the things I’m bummed about the most to be honest. Always wanted to try that before I died,” You laugh, running your fingers over what’s left of your chipped nail polish as you stare out into the distance.

He’s still tearing up handfuls of grass, averting your stare. His next words are whispered, just a wisp of a sentence, “Me too.”

There’s a long pause, filled by the sound of grass uprooting and the light spring breeze.

This pause is charged, awkward, but electric.

You don’t think before you ask what you’re both thinking.

“Should we?” A mischievous smile spreads on your face.

“Wha- What?”

“Fool around,” You say, lips still curled in a devilish grin.

Normally you’d never be so forward. But here, while you have only a few hours left, why not? You’re not going to be shy enough to miss out on your only opportunity to check a few things off the bucket list before you die. You could certainly do a lot worse in terms of losing your virginity. If he rejected your offer, it’s not like you’ll have to deal with the embarrassment for long.

“What?” He says again, almost horrified, his whole face turning red.

“Here?” He asks before you can repeat the question, his head swiveling as he looks around the arena. His palm touches his chest, “With me?”

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug.

“Because everyone’s watching,” He gets out with a stutter. He thinks for a moment and repeats, “With me?”

You laugh and offer a shrug, “If you want. Might as well.”

The pads of his fingers rub together furiously, “But you’ll have to go home and face everyone, and - and they’ll know.”

Maybe you are as quick as Konig thinks you are, because you catch it immediately.

Konig doesn’t.

It rolled off his tongue so casually, as if he’d said it a million times before. You can tell he doesn’t recognize his screw up by the way he responds to your face dropping, your head cocking to the side, your eyes narrowing.

He looks puzzled, flushed, a little scared - but not busted.

“What?” He asks.

Konig leans back instinctively when you prime yourself, hands already bracing the grass for movement.

Your voice is dangerous and taught, each word spoken independently and brought to an icy point.

“I’ll go home.”

Now he’s realized it. His face sinks, his eyes are wide and desperate, lips gaped as he searches for a recovery but his mind is clearly failing him. If it had just been a slip of the tongue, or maybe if he was a better liar, he would have just corrected himself - but the fear in his eyes gives it away.

It was no mistake.

You give a slow, dangerous nod, your tongue running along the front of your teeth as you look away to stare into the distance.

It all makes sense now.

Why he didn’t let Eleven or Titan kill you. Why he didn’t kill you. Why he went through the trouble of nursing your wounds. Why he’s letting you come to terms with your death. Why he’s insistent on you not acting dangerously even though you have no time left.

A jacket on a cold night, pleas to ally, cuddling, handholding, carrying, compliments, blushing.

Murders on your behalf.

These are not the actions of a friend.

This is what Titan meant.

This is what he wanted Konig to confess to you.

The other tributes didn’t think you were allies - they had known of Konig’s affection all along, and they wanted to use you as leverage, bait to take down their toughest opponent.

You were Konig’s weakness all along.

Everyone must have known.

Of course they did.

Holding hands at the opening ceremony, attached at the hip in training, protecting you from confrontation. Price’s knowing stares, stating confidently that you could convince Konig to rebel against the Capitol, forcing Konig to blush at the mention of your name. The careers keeping a careful eye on the boy who cares far too much about the girl, using her against him, and rubbing it in at every opportunity.

It must be obvious to the audience, too.

All of Panem must know, Konig’s intentions were clear from the start, and you were too dense to see what was right in front of your fucking face.

You scoff, voice tightening with betrayal and every word slicing through the tensed air.

Your head slowly turns to face him, jaw cocked and a tented brow.

“You’re planning on sacrificing yourself for me, aren’t you?”

· THE TRIBUTES I · THE TRIBUTES II · THE GAMES · THE VICTOR I · THE VICTOR II ·

BONUS TGWCM CONTENT (FUN FACTS, KONIG’S POV, MEMES, DRABBLES & MORE :)

y’all didn’t think i would be able to sneak in an anime beach episode in here did ya lmaoo I cannot wait to hear what y’all think of this one I’m buzzzzzing with excitement my heart is pounding rn 💗

next part coming so soon i swears it just gotta figure out how to write through my own TEARS

Also I am - so, so thankful for your kind words and feedback on the story so far. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again I really thought this one was just for me and the fact y’all enjoy it to i’m just <3 <3 y’all make me qhbzbzbzbzb <3 you have no idea what your words mean to me y’all make me BLUSH fr your words mean the world to me and to the lovelies that have been flocking and giving love to every single post I make. I see y’all. 👀 you know who you are. <3 <3 <3 🩷💞💕💖💖💗🩷💕💕💕💕🩷💗💖

More by uhohdad:

➤ Meine Perle (Octo!Konig x Reader)

➤ His (Stalker!Konig x Reader)

➤ Experimental (Scientist!Reader x Test Subject!Konig)

Masterlist

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (38)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, attempted rape, murder, descriptions of wounds and their effects, descriptions of the fight ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She felt that something hung in the air, that it was all too simple, that Larys Strong would never allow himself to be caught with such ease. She knew this, but no arguments could stop her uncle or her brother, and she was left alone, locked in their chamber in Harrenhal, waiting in fear and tension for their arrival with the hope that they would both return alive.

By her husband's orders, no one was to cross the threshold of their quarters, so she had to remove her gown herself before going to bed. She sighed heavily when she finally managed to free herself from under the layers of her attire and remain in just her nightgown, stroking her belly as if trying to soothe both herself and the child in her womb.

They will come back, she thought in the back of her head.

They will both come back.

She lay back under the thick furs, checking once more with her hand that the dagger her mother had given her as a child was still between the bedframe and the sheets. She let out a quiet breath when she felt the cold steel beneath her fingers and curled up, looking towards the window.

She knew she wouldn't get a wink of sleep that night.

After a few hours she shuddered, snapped out of her half-slumber when she heard a rustling outside her chamber door, and then a click, as if someone had turned a key in the lock. For a moment she thought with joy that it was her husband, but then decided that he would not have crept in, and her hand involuntarily reached for the hilt of her dagger and slid it out, hiding it under the duvet.

She squealed loudly, bouncing in place as the door suddenly opened with a slam and two muscular men, smelling of sweat and alcohol, stepped inside.

"– let's go, little one – don't make me use force –" One of them said as she shook her head quickly, feeling the hard pounding of her heart, her hands clenched into fists.

The man laughed as he saw her pale, terrified face.

"– what a pretty thing you are – maybe we could make use of this body first? – what do you think? –" He chuckled mockingly to his companion, who grinned, from a distance she could see that he was missing a few teeth.

At their words she felt tears under her eyelids, she moved as far away from him as possible, but he grabbed her arm, wanting to lie on top of her, gripping the material of her nightgown.

"NO!" She shouted in rage, the blade of her dagger again, again and again thrust deep into his abdomen, making his voice stuck in his throat, the man behind him shouted in rage, running up to her.

"YOU LITTLE WHORE!" He screamed, pulling her away from his companion, who coughed loudly and slid to the floor, clutching at the spot where his warm blood was dripping, his eyes bulging in shock.

"– LET ME GO! – LET ME GO! –" She screamed and squealed, trying to push him away and stab him blindly with the blade, but he snatched it from her hand, dropping it to the floor with a powerful jerk, crushing her with his own body.

He punched her in the face with his fist, making her feel like she had gone deaf for a moment and lost her sight, his strong, rough hands caught her in half and threw her over his shoulder. They walked out of her chamber into the corridor, as if through a fog she could see the bodies of the guards covered in blood, their wide eyes empty and lifeless.

She didn't have the strength to scream or cry, breathing hard, feeling her swollen cheek pulsing with pain.

And then she noticed some kind of shadow moving behind them – the man noticed it too, because he turned, and after a moment he fell to the floor with her, crushing her with his body. She heard someone's groan of exertion – she took a loud breath as someone slid the man off her, a hand smelling of lavender and clove touching her cheek.

"– Princess – get up, we have to go, quickly –" She whispered, trying to lift her up. She threw her arm around her neck, leading her down the corridor.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the body of the man who had tried to abduct her lying on the stone floor, an axe stuck in his head.

Alys took her to some room that smelled of herbs. She laid her down on something soft, and then she heard a rustling and her gasp of effort, as if she was moving something heavy. She breathed loudly, slowly regaining consciousness, and raised herself up on her arm, seeing that she had pawed the doorway with a large dresser and a table.

"– rest –" Alys said, panting heavily, kneeling beside her, her wide-open green eyes shining in the moonlight. "– you are safe now –"

"– what will happen to my husband and brother? –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling her whole body begin to shiver with cold and terror. Alys shook her head.

"– I don't know –"

Several hours passed before they heard the powerful flapping of wings, two dragons began circling around the fortress in the darkness.

They were back.

They came out to meet them, both only in their nightgowns and overlaid robes, running down the stone steps. She stopped and screamed involuntarily, sobbing and wailing at the same time, covering her mouth with her hands, as she watched her brother and the man she was seeing for the first time in her life carry her unconscious husband through the fortress gates.

"– he was stabbed with a dagger in the back –" Jace cried out, all red and sweaty.

"– follow me, immediately –" Alys called out, pointing her finger at them to which chamber they should head to.

She ran after them, watching as Jace and the stranger laid her uncle's body on Alys' bed, her aunt beginning to take out various objects from the drawers one by one, panting heavily.

"– take off his cloak and tunic and turn him onto his stomach –" She commanded, and they obediently obeyed her order. She stood a few paces behind them, looking at his pale face, at his parted lips, and only after a moment did she see that a trickle of blood was trailing down his left foot.

Her whole body was trembling, she was unable to get a word out or move from her place.

When her husband was left in only his breeches and shirt, Alys cut the material with scissors. A terrified, helpless, loud moan ripped from her throat as she exposed the wound from which his blood was dripping and she wept loudly, burying her face in her hands, thinking that if he died, she would throw herself from the highest tower of Harrenhal.

"– hold him –" She ordered the men. Jace climbed onto the bed, sitting down on the side of his head, pressing his torso against the bedclothes with his hands while the other man grabbed his legs.

As her aunt leaned over and poured the contents of one of the vials onto his wound, her husband suddenly opened his eye and screamed as if someone was skinning him.

She felt her body suddenly rush up, running towards him – she fell to her knees beside him, grabbing his hand, stroking his hot, sweaty cheek.

"– shhh, my love – shhh – I know, I know it hurts –" She whispered soothingly. He whined low, his fingers tightening on hers.

"– I want to see our child –" He mumbled out in pain. She wept at his words and rose up on her knees, hugging his head to her breasts, stroking his hair. He screamed out loud as Alys repeated the action, spreading his wound with her fingers.

"– why are you doing this?! –" She cried out, hearing how much pain she was causing him, how much he was suffering.

"– I need to clean the wound and make sure there is no internal bleeding –" She replied coldly, looking at the man standing at his feet.

"– Erwin, there are needles and threads in the second drawer from the bottom – give it to me and a lit candle for me –" She ordered, and the man nodded, walking over to her large chest of drawers, snooping through her things, finding after a moment what she was speaking of.

Her husband was convulsing in her arms when they all watched in silence as Alys took out the needle, washing it with the same alcohol-scented liquid, and then slipped the tip of it into the fire. This went on for a while, and as she took it out, she put a thread through its eyelet and leaned over his wound, looking at her brother.

"– hold him –" She said, and then jabbed the needle into his skin, beginning to suture the wound.

Her uncle hissed and whined, squeezing her hand as hard as if he wanted to break her fingers. She looked at her in despair, not knowing how to relieve him, how to help him.

"– gods, please, at least give him poppy milk –" She mumbled out pleadingly, tears of pain and fear running down her cheeks red with emotion. Alys shook her head, heedless of his sobs.

"– no – he's lost too much blood – he won't wake up –" She said in an unobjectionable voice.

She put her arms around his head, cradling him to her chest, hushing him and stroking his hair as if he were a small child, a little boy.

"– shhh – shhh –"

"– Rhaenys – not yet – not yet –" He babbled, terrified, his trembling hand clamped on her wrist.

She felt her throat clench at the thought of him trying to tell her that he didn't want to die.

"– I'm with you – you're not going to die – you're not going to die –" She whispered softly, kissing his hot forehead again and again. She felt his breath begin to calm, and his grip eased: frightened, she touched her fingers to his neck and was relieved to feel a pulse.

Alys finished her work in silence, then reached for a small vessel standing on the table and opened its lid. She scooped a grey ointment onto her fingers, which she began to apply gently to the fresh wound.

"– the wound must not be covered with any material – he must lie on his stomach all night so that the stitches do not rip – if he survives until morning, there will be hope for him – he has lost a lot of blood –" She said, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. She only wept at her words, placing her cheek on his head, stroking his jaw with her palm.

Neither of them slept for a moment that night.

However, morning came, and her husband, although burning up with fever, was still breathing.

"What's happening?" She asked, touching his hot forehead, placing on it a linen cloth previously soaked in the icy water Alys had given her.

"– it's a sign that his body is fighting – that he's not giving up –" She said calmly, and she nodded, trying to comfort herself with that thought.

When Jace asked them to speak in private she did so reluctantly, leaving her husband in the care of their aunt. They went out into the corridor and looked at each other for a moment in silence.

"– it was an ambush on me, not on him – his spies must have reported to Lord Strong that I had come to Harrenhal – the information that was given to our uncle was just bait – when they attacked me, he tried to protect me –" He muttered and she nodded, stroking her slightly rounded abdomen.

"– your cheek – what happened? –" He asked, but she shook her head.

"– I don't have the strength to discuss it, Jace –" She whispered, tired and powerless. Her brother nodded.

"– we need to inform our mother about what happened –" He replied.

"– yes – and not only her –"

While Alys replaced the cold cloths she had placed on her husband's back and forehead, she sat at her desk and wrote two letters: one to her mother in Dragonstone, the other to her uncle in King's Landing.

She ordered them to be sent immediately knowing what the consequences would be.

During the day, her husband's condition neither worsened nor improved – he was still asleep and Alys' chamber was cramped, so they decided to move him to his chamber, being careful not to hurt him. As they laid him on his bed, Alys placed the ointment she had used earlier on the table next to him.

"– apply a little of this ointment every five hours, Princess – the wound is swollen but no infection is developing – that's the most important thing – I think the worst is behind us – I will inform the servants to prepare hot soup for him and I will personally supervise how it is prepared –" She said, watching her calmly, without an expression of fatigue or discouragement.

She looked at her and nodded.

"– I am grateful to you, Alys – for everything you have done for me and my husband – when this is all over, decide for yourself where you wish to go – you are a free woman now –"

The woman smiled at her in a way that seemed sincere and filled with an emotion she didn't understand. She nodded and left without another word, leaving them alone.

Her uncle, when she tried to feed him, was semi-conscious. Because of the way he was lying on his stomach, she had to lift his head higher so he wouldn't choke. Her brother helped her attend to him without saying a word, holding his chin as she poured the contents of the bowl down his throat spoon by spoon.

Several times he muttered something in displeasure and furrowed his brow, however, he did not open his eyes, restless, sweat droplets on his forehead.

She only fell asleep in the evening, tired and weak, waking up once in a while, however, checking that he was still breathing. She shuddered when she felt him move, his breath became heavy, as if he was frightened of something. She lifted herself up on her arm to see that his eyelid was open, his lips parted, as if he didn't recognise her.

"– Rhaenys –"

She touched his cheek, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, her stomach clenched in emotion, hearing his voice again, his skin hot from the heat.

"– I am here, my beloved –" She whispered, looking up at him tenderly, begging in her mind just for him to survive, for the Stranger not to take him away so early.

She heard him sigh quietly with some kind of relief, looking at her with a misty gaze.

"– I knew you would come –" He said quietly.

She didn't understand what he meant, but decided it didn't matter, her lips placed a warm, moist kiss on his forehead.

"– do you still want to marry me? –" He asked with difficulty, and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling her heart stop in her throat.

I knew you would come.

It seemed to him that they were still children.

That she had come to him that night when he lost his eye.

Her fingers ran gently over his jaw, hot, burning tears of emotion and pain running down her cheeks one by one.

"– uncle – we are married – I'm expecting your child –" She whispered, gently grasping his wrist, allowing his hand to touch her rounded lower abdomen. She felt him freeze, his lips parted, relief and warmth in his eyes from which she felt a tightening in her throat, stifling the sob that wanted to escape her lips.

"– I have married you –"

She laughed under her breath, wiping her tear-wet face, stroking his hand with hers.

"– yes, my love – I am your wife and you are my husband –" She whispered softly, leaning over him, placing a tender, sticky kiss on his lips, from which he sighed quietly in contentment.

"– you promised me that you would take me to Essos – you can't leave me now –" She mumbled, feeling that despite her efforts, tears flowed down her face in waves again, her breath heavy and hitched as she pressed her forehead against his, stroking his cheek.

"– never, my sweetest – never –" He whispered and closed his eyes. Horrified, she shook him, feeling her heart stop in her throat.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled and pressed her fingers to his neck.

She cried out loud, feeling his pulse, and lay down beside him, snuggling into his body, praying aloud to all the gods, old and new, to show them mercy, to reward her husband for what he had done for her brother and to allow him to see the birth of his child.

The gods heard her prayers, and when Alys woke her the next morning, wanting to check how his wound was healing, he was still breathing.

Then Daemon arrived in Harrenhal.

The sight of Caraxes over the fortress filled her with fear and joy at the same time. She ran to meet him along with her brother, and although she knew that affectionate embraces were not in his nature, as soon as he slid off the back of his dragon, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

"Father!" She cried out, snuggling into him, and he did not reject her, embracing her tightly, pressing her to his heart.

Their stepfather received the information they conveyed to him with an air of disbelief, as if he thought they were hiding something from him; the uncertainty vanished from his face when he was led to the chamber where her husband rested.

"Will he survive?" He asked indifferently, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She nodded, pale.

"With god's blessing, yes. Alys says the worst is behind him, but he still has a fever. Last night he woke up and spoke to me for a while, but then he lost consciousness again." She explained and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, walking around the room.

"I told your mother to let me handle the Strong and Hightower case, but she didn't consent. Does anyone in King's Landing know what happened here?"

"Aegon." She admitted immediately, looking at him, not lowering her gaze even as he turned to her in anger.

"You are a fool. He'll protect his grandfather. He'll hide him like a rat."

"No. Not after what happened." She said with a confidence that surprised him. He laughed and shook his head.

"Your naivety is dangerous, you are aware of that?" He asked, finally making himself comfortable in the chair and sighed heavily, tapping his fingers on the armrests.

"My men will find Larys Strong, and I will feed him to Caraxes in front of his own people. This, however, is not a problem. As long as Otto Hightower lives, don't hope for peace. And that green whore will never give him up to us, even if he unwittingly almost killed her son."

It turned out, however, that Daemon had been mistaken in his assessment of the situation, and the retinue with the carriage with the Queen inside arrived in Harrenhal after a few days. It frightened her that Harrenhal was slowly becoming a small Red Keep and that this woman would stand before her father.

Alicent, however, did not seem to be bothered by the sight of him, and instead walked up to her, panting heavily, grabbing her by her shoulders.

Only after a moment did she realise she was wearing black.

She wore mourning.

"– where is my son? –"

To Daemon's displeasure, she led her husband's mother to his chamber. When she saw him, she cried aloud, covering her mouth with her hand, and walked over to him, sitting down beside him on the bed. She stroked his white hair as if he were still a child.

"– my little boy –" She whispered in a breaking voice.

She decided to give them a moment of solitude.

While her husband was left in Alys' care, she, Jace, Daemon and Alicent sat down at the table together for the first time since the King's death.

They were all waiting to hear what she had to say.

The Queen sat in silence for a long time, staring dully ahead, not tasting the wine or the food, picking at the cuticles around her fingernails.

"My father is dead. My son-king sentenced him to death after he received a message from Harrenhal. He wanted to fly here in person, but I wouldn't let him." She confessed. Daemon snorted at her words, raising his eyebrow as if her words amused him.

"Your son-cunt is no king, and your father's head should have long since welcomed visitors to King's Landing impaled on a spike." He sneered.

"– father –" She said to him pleadingly, involuntarily stroking her abdomen again, weak and drowsy, having not experienced a peaceful sleep for several days. Alicent looked at her, pale and tired.

"– is this his child? –" She asked, and her father snorted at her words, raising his gaze to the ceiling.

"– for goodness' sake –"

"– yes –" She replied calmly, looking her straight in the eyes.

The Queen smiled sadly and nodded, as if this information actually pleased her.

"I'm glad." She whispered.

"– how touching – did you know that there was an attempt to poison my daughter? – that there was an attempt to kill my son and abduct her? – it's a miracle she hasn't lost that child yet –" Her father hissed out with a fury from which everyone fell silent, all around them only the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace behind him.

Alicent pressed her lips together, swallowing hard, looking down at her empty plate.

"– I tried to reason with him, but I couldn't – he thought, as he has all my life, that I was weak and naive in believing that a war could be avoided – he made me his pawn from the moment he put me under the nose of your brother, and my husband, like a mare for sale –" She replied indifferently, as if she was already tired of pretense and courtesy.

Daemon tapped his index finger on the armrest and licked his lower lip, watching her vigilantly.

"– King's Landing is not burning just for the sake of my daughter and what your son has done – remember this well –" He said lowly and rose from his seat, taking his cup and jug of wine, then left, leaving them in complete silence.

If anything good had come out of what had happened, it was that she and Jace were closer than they had ever been. Her brother watched over her and made sure she ate and drank, convincing her that since his mother was at her husband's side, she could finally rest a little.

"– you need to think of yourself and the baby too – call me if you need anything –" He said softly, looking at her lying on the bed, sitting beside her on the sheets. She put her hand on his and stroked it with her thumb.

"– I love you, brother –" She whispered.

Jace smiled at her words in a way from which she felt moved and leaned in, placing a warm, tender kiss on her forehead.

"– sleep –" He murmured and got up, leaving her alone in her chamber.

She had slept for several hours without waking for the first time in days, and when she opened her eyes, she wasn't sure if it was morning or evening. Only when she rubbed her eyes did she realise that the sun had only just risen above the horizon and she had slept through the night. She shuddered when she heard a quiet knock on the door to her chamber.

"– come in –" She said loudly. The door opened and Alicent stood in it, a small smile on her lips from which she felt warmth in her heart.

"– he's awake –"

Although only in her nightgown and a robe thrown over her shoulders, she ran to his chamber driven by euphoria. When she saw that he was lying on his back, that his eye was open, that he smiled softly at the sight of her, she cried out loudly and rushed towards him, climbing onto his bed, cuddling into his chest.

He hissed quietly, as if she had caused him pain, and she moved away immediately, looking at him apologetically.

"– forgive me – I –"

"– no – come here –" He muttered in a hoarse voice, putting his arm around her, pushing her back to him. She laid her head on his chest, this time being careful not to make any sudden movements. She sighed in relief as she felt his lips place a lingering, loud kiss on the top of her head.

Alicent followed her into the chamber, smiling as she watched them from the side, as if something about the sight brought her relief.

Her husband lifted her chin and furrowed his brow, seeing the remnants of a purple-pink bruise under her eye.

"– are you well? – did they hurt you? –" He asked, but she shook her head quickly.

"– no – but – I killed one of them –" She mumbled, lowering her gaze.

Over the past few nights, she had dreamt of the figures of this two men again and again, causing her to wake up terrified and drenched in sweat.

Her uncle sighed heavily, stroking her cheek with his thumb, looking at her face, his sapphire eye shining in the sunlight.

"– how? –" He asked coldly.

"– as you taught me – I stabbed him in the stomach with a dagger –" She muttered and heard him smile.

"– my Visenya –" He whispered and kissed her forehead with a quiet click.

She involuntarily felt herself blush at his words and snuggled her face into his neck, enjoying his proximity and scent.

"– I will order a meal to be prepared for you –" His mother said and left their chamber, leaving them alone. She felt his uncle's hand slide down to her lower abdomen, stroking her skin.

"– how do you feel? –" He asked quietly, as if she had been stabbed in the back with a dagger rather than him.

"– I feel well, uncle – now that I am in your arms, all is well –"

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: happy birthday to me! when this posts i'll officially be older, and celebrating by being cringe (writing this). i also love that picture of misha. it's him at my birthday party for real. he told me himself (lying)

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: rock your body—justin timberlake

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Special occasions like this are few and far between

• The Winchester family hadn't had a proper birthday in decades. While Dean clung to memories of gas station twinkies in replacement of a birthday cake, Sam remembered most of his birthdays with a sort of sad animosity. Up until walking out on his dad for Stanford and spending his birthday that year with Jessica, he hadn't had a single enjoyable birthday party. Maybe that was part of the reason he refused to let you feel the same way about your own birthday—even if none of you were kids anymore

• Worst case scenario, the world is ending again and you all have little time for delicacies. If that's the case, you'd get a quick pat on the shoulder from Dean, one excited bear hug from Sam, and very confused Cas wishing you the best of births before being told to continue packing the shotguns with salt rounds

• "With age comes responsibility, so keep loading those guns. Spider-Man said that."

• "For someone that watches so much trash tv, you know so little about media, Dean." You snorted at your friend, fingers nimmbly crushing salt into a line of rigid red shells before moving onto the next group

• "Shut up before I decide to give you your birthday noogies." He pointed a finger at you from across the room with a single raised eyebrow. Off to the side you saw Cas ask Dean what birthday noogies were not-so-quietly, and you struggled to hold back a laugh

• Even in the worst situations, they could always manage to make you smile

• Best case scenario, however, it's a free day. Nothing to do, no devils to fight, no ghouls to stop—nothing. Just you, the guys, and time on your hands that you all normally never have. So what better way to utilize it than with a little surprise party?

• Sam would be the most into the whole birthday party shtick. He'd insist that it was the least they could do for you after all the years on the hunt together, and even got Dean to budge after a few minutes of petty debating

• "It's stupid and cheesy, Sammy. We're grown adults. We've fought the devil beforr for christ's sake." Dean gave his brother the stink eye from his spot in the drivers seat. Groceries stores and Mom & Pop stores passed them by as they ventured into the nearest town, but neither of them paid attention to their blurred surroundings

• "Come on Dean." Sam twisted his torso and turned to face him fully. "Don't tell me you don't remember the look on their face last month when we brought them back a souvenir from our hunting trip in Alabama. You would have thought we brought them a new car. Besides, this is the one chance we've had in a while to actually celebrate something." Sam's eyebrows tilted up as he recalled the memory, shooting a knowing look at Dean's side-profile

• "So what? I say we just tell them happy birthday like a regular person and call it a day." Dean grumbled

• "Is that why you're driving in the nearest direction of the bakery here?"

• Dean didn't respond

• "That's what I thought."

• "Shut your pie-hole or I'm kicking you to the curb."

• Once the boys get back to whatever new place you all are holed up for that week, a couple of crinkled bags in hand, they call on Cas to help out with setting up whatever decorations Sam had forced Dean to throw in the cart

• Cas didn't take nearly as much convincing to partake in the setting up of festivities, but he certainly did need a lot of it explained

• "I thought angels were familiar with the concept of birthdays?" Dean asked at one point while watching Sam pull part of a cake out of the oven. His hand was slapped away when he went to grab at it, and he glared at his younger brother momentarily

• "We are." Castiel's gruff answer came shortly. "But we stopped keeping count after the first couple thousand years. And it was never done like—" He flicked the party hat atop his head curiously, "—this."

• "What did you guys do to celebrate?" Sam asked while popping the lid to a can of store bough frosting open

• "Pray."

• "Naturally." Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically. A blanket of silence fell over the room after that as Sam set out to frost the first part of the cake. Then—

• "Hey. How come none of you are wearing paper hats?"

• "Oh, trust me Cas. It'll mean a lot more to them if you were the one wearing it." Dean's grin was borderline evil as he looked at the angel

• It's safe to say that you laughed the hardest you had in a while once seeing Cas looking so hesitant in a mini cone hat

• Overall, it's the best birthday— the best day —that you've had in a long time

• You didn't need much, and as a hunter you'd come to expect almost nothing. But knowing that your friends— the short tempered, college dropout, otherworldly friends that they were —took it upon themselves to set all this up for you was the emotional equivalent to a punch in the gut. A lovely emotional punch in the gut

• "If you start crying, I'll leave." Dean snapped at you when you eventuallyvoiced how much this meant to you. But the threat was empty, and you all knew it

• Sometime during the party, you had managed to wrestle a paper hat of his own onto his head, and how it sat on the side of his head like a crooked unicorn horn. Occasionally he'd reach for it as if to take it off, then lower his hand with a small smile

• "Shut the fuck up and give me a group hug, Dean." You grinned with teeth, gesturing at him to stand up

• "Wait, no, I take it back that's worse."

• "I will kill you, Winchester. I swear I'll do it."

• You ended up getting your group hug that day, even if it took Castiel trapping Dean between you and him to get him to stand still

• "I hate it here." He griped with a groan. Sam could only laugh as be watched his brother struggle in Cas's iron grip, and said angel was smiling a bit to himself. You felt your heart swell; even if the look on Dean's face was downright murderous

• "Smile or I'm egging Baby on my birthday night." You said before setting the camera's timer and holding it up above you all

• "You wouldn't—"

• "Watch me."

• All four of you have your own copy of the photo from that night, kept in your seperate pockets and bedside table drawers. To this day you find yourself smiling when you look at it, and even if you'd never know it, so do they

[rizlowwritessortof]

Take a Shot

Written for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon event!

Let's face it, his henley looks good on both of you...

Pairing: Dean x F. Reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Nothing but a little good old-fashioned sexual tension, no smut, but Dean being Dean is a warning in itself 🔥🔥🔥 (Dividers by the absolutely lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics )

The tile floor is cool on your bare feet as you walk down the hall, your mind focused on the banana pudding left in the fridge from earlier tonight. If you can’t fall asleep, you might as well eat, right?

It’s kind of nice in the bunker when everyone else is in bed, only the dim light from the night lights that are always on in all the common rooms, the quiet hum of some mysterious machinery in the background, whatever it is that keeps the power on in this place. You shiver a little, the air cool on your legs. Why bother with pants when nobody else is around, anyway?

You’re halfway through the library on your way to the kitchen when Dean’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin, your heart pounding hard as you whirl around to face him. He’s standing across the room, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand, his eyes shadowed in the half-dark. “Is that my shirt?”

“Damn it, Dean, you scared the living shit out of me!” you scold, your hand on your chest, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way free. “Why are you up? I thought you went to bed a couple of hours ago!”

An amused smile curves his lips. “Backatcha, sweetheart.”

“Well – I – I couldn’t go to sleep. So I wanted a snack.”

“Yeah, well, same here, and I wanted a drink. Mystery solved.” It’s slowly dawning on you that you’re half-dressed, and you feel the blush move up your neck, your cheeks warming as he stares you down. “You never answered me. Is that my shirt?”

You’re wearing a cream-colored henley that you may or may not have stolen – borrowed – when you were doing laundry last weekend. It’s so soft, and so big (because it’s his) and comfy, and yes, if you were being honest, you like wearing it because it belongs to him. It’s been against his skin. And you would deny that even under threat of torture.

“Yes, okay, I borrowed your shirt. And just for your information, I wouldn’t have come out here like this if I knew you were lurking around.”

“I’m not lurking. And just for your information, I don’t mind you coming out here like that.” In fact, he’s thoroughly enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. It’s soft, and it’s clinging just right to show every detail of the curves beneath – not to mention your perky nipples. No, he doesn’t really mind at all.

You can see his eyes sparkle even in the poor lighting, and you hope he can’t see your blush from where he’s standing. “Well, stop staring.” You turn your back and flounce from the room, heading to the kitchen and hoping with everything in you that the henley is covering your ass. You brush your hand back there, relieved that it is – barely – and walk resolutely to the fridge. Seriously, what the hell is he doing up, anyway?

You take the container and toss the lid into the sink, grabbing a spoon from the nearby drawer, and lean against the counter, taking a spoonful of the creamy treat and closing your eyes as it hits your tongue. So good. Totally worth a little embarrassment.

“So, you gonna share, or what?” You jump, startled again glaring up at him as he approaches.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, could you wear a bell or something?” A thoroughly devilish grin flashes for a second, but he manages to rein it in quickly. You scoop another spoonful of the pudding, but he takes your hand in his and steers it up towards his mouth. You watch as he takes it in, those sinful lips closing around it and his eyes blinking slowly as he savors it with a soft hum. You feel your legs wobble a little, and things are clenching that should not be clenching just from watching someone eat banana pudding.

“That’s good.” He lets go of your hand, and after a couple of seconds you actually remember to take it back. You force your eyes down, but now the view is his shoulders and chest underneath another henley from his collection, this one a midnight blue, and he’s wearing sweats and his feet are bare. And you are hopelessly screwed. “Thought you were hungry,” he teases as you stand there with the empty spoon in the air, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I am – I was,” you stammer.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” He laughs softly at your defiant frown.

“Because you’re distracting me.”

“You started it.” You stare up at him, your eyes wide.

“Since when do you get distracted by me? You barely even notice me.”

“Shows how much you know.” You still stare at him skeptically, and he gnaws a bit at that plush lower lip before he continues. “Every night I walk by your door and I picture in my head what you might be wearing to bed. Some nights… well, let’s just say I really wanna open that door.”

You set the container of pudding and the spoon on the counter beside you, never taking your eyes off him. “Then why haven’t you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid you’ll tell me to get lost.”

You’re starting to smile now. “You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Dean steps up close, his hand moving to stroke over your shoulder and down, curling his fingers around your arm as he leans in, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Oh, sweetheart – I don’t miss.”

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