Gacha Bro
Jk here's an actual video game TF haha! Bit of a trade with @artificial-transmutations ! Hope you enjoy this spin on a barbarian TF! -Occam
Erik wouldn’t label himself a gamer really, sure he threw on a stream every so often and tried to at least keep abreast of what’s popular, but he just never really found a game to care all that much about. He is fairly confident that the game his friend Jack just sent him Achillean Dreams was sure to be another in a laundry list of mediocre games he’s had a go at. It looks like a standard Gacha game which he’s never really cared for, they’re quite pay-to-win and predatory. Though he supposes that a few of his friends quite enjoy Genshin Impact? Maybe it’ll be a little fun?
Jack says he needs Erik to download the app and start playing so he can get a free pull, and after grumbling that this is precisely why he hates gacha games he downloads the app from Jack’s link and starts at it. He’s greeted with a grandiose generic animation sweeping through some fantastical setting before being deposited at his first draw. Rolling his eyes that this is just a lottery app he clicks and watches as he grows slightly curious to what, or who rather, he would pull. The screen flashes a few times before light bursts from the screen before he hears a burly voice shout “Graugh! Let’s Go!” as a barbarian burst onto his screen swinging an axe. It zooms into his face through a mist of sweat to land on his rage filled eyes and a barbaric smirk as text reads Congratulations! You Pulled Enki the Barbarian! The screen changes once more, this time showing Enki’s model just standing and posing with his axe, flexing at the camera as if to challenge the player. Erik blushes before grimacing.
On the rare occasion he does decide to game he would never choose to play any kind of melee fighter type guy. He taps through the menus to get to the gameplay so he can get this over with. Jack didn’t say exactly how much he needs to play but Erik is sure it’ll be clear. He starts maneuvering Enki through the world of the game, finding the controls incredibly intuitive as he finishes the tutorial and levels up. Doing so gives him a slight high, just enough of a rush to keep going. Might as well play a little longer considering he’s sure to never pick this game back up once he puts it down.
Entering the true starting area he goes around killing slimes and large spiders to get some experience points and level up. Each time he does so he finds himself growing more and more invested in the game, he can see why people like this after all, with each kill of some weak monster his warrior only grows more powerful which in turn helps him level up faster. He looks hungrily at his muscular character as he hears the chime of another level up and sees what new aspects and skills he has new access to.
In no time at all Enki is already level five and Erik uncharacteristically pumps the air in excitement before he shakes his head in shock at himself. He blushes as he sees Enki’s figure stretch in impatience on the level up screen. Man though, no wonder Jack wanted another pull in this game, it’s already quite addictive. He then hears his stomach grumble and is taken aback. He just ate didn’t he? He looks to the clock to confirm as the hunger overtakes him regardless of when his last meal was. He gets up to go grab food and finds himself shockingly sore. Jesus he needs to exercise more, or is he dehydrated? Just like Enki he stretches as he begins to make his way over to make a sandwich.
He feels tensions familiar and new as he feels the pleasure in stretching his body to its limits. The hem of his shirt sits just a bit higher on him, exposing his thin waist and small treasure trail as his stomach grumbles once more. Alright already, he thinks as he throws together a meal and starts playing the game once more, just walking around and seeing what all the game has to offer. On the horizon he sees villages and castles that pique his interest as he struggles within his mind not to get too invested, he doesn’t want to throw money at this game.
Beginning his mindless grind for XP once more as he levels up his soreness starts to arise once more as he grumbles and adjusts his position. The couch creaks as his weight ever so slightly begins to increase, before once more his stomach demands his attention. “Jesus Christ! Why am I so hungry!?” He finds his blood starts to race as the irritation starts to rise. Perhaps he should give the game a rest. Deciding against having another meal he opts for junk and grabs a pint of ice cream. He’ll just hit the gym tomorrow.
Picking up a book he is taken aback as he realizes that thought just pushed itself into his mind. He has no gym membership, he’s never had one? He must have meant he’ll go for an, uh, hike or something? To distract his mind from that oddity he turns to start his book, quickly finishing his pint of ice cream as he struggles to sink his teeth into this book he thought he liked? He was quite invested last time he picked it up but at the moment he finds himself picking up and checking his phone an inordinate amount. His mind keeps thinking back to Enki’s muscular body as he impatiently taps his foot. He can’t seem to sit comfortably on the couch, be it the soreness or a rising anxiety in his body at sitting and reading this boring book. Ah, this book he quite liked, rather. He groans in irritation, and closes his eyes as he tries to work out what is going on with him.
Soon enough though, distraction arrives as Jack calls. “Dude you’ve gotta play more to get me my pull.” Erik opens his mouth to answer before noticing Jack sounds off, he asks, “Do you have a cold?”
He scoffs, “Erik, c’mon bro you just gotta get to level ten so we can both get good!” Erik again pauses as he listens closer to the other line, Jack is clearly amped about something more than this stupid little game, he then hears a familiar slapping sound and a deep grunt come from his friend and he calls out, “Jack dude! What? Are you mast-” Jack quickly interrupts him, “Chill bro of course not! Just, just uh. Here watch this level up thing and you’ll do it super fast, trust.”
The line goes dark as Jack apparently hangs up before sending a link to an ad for Erik to watch. Refusing to engage with the fact he was pretty sure his friend was masturbating just now he plays the ad and is shocked to find out it's for a partnership with a local gym!? His head sears with pain as he struggles to think of how weird this paired with him thinking about the gym earlier, but he is unable to make that leap as his eyes drink in muscular men pumping iron at the gym. It ends with a message saying players get a month trial. “God that’s bizarre.”
He grimaces once more as he changes into pajamas and jumps into bed before taking advantage of his level up boost. He starts completing missions and defeating mobs as he approaches level ten at a rapid pace. He doesn't notice as his pajamas catch weird on his body as he lies there, his feet suddenly sticking out from beyond the blankets as he flexes his toes, not feeling as they surge a bit larger. As soon as he hits the milestone he lets out something between a yawn and a groan as he stretches, not noticing as he echoes deeper than he has ever sounded before. He finds no comfort in rest as he quickly drifts to sleep, his body tossing and turning in bed as he accidentally leaves his phone on, leaving Enki to accrue passive experience as continues to level up well into the night.
The root of Erik’s soreness makes itself apparent as he shifts in his bed, muscle starting to make itself known through his increasingly tight pajamas. He sweats completely through his clothes and leaves a deep pile of drool on his pillow as, unaware to him, he starts getting hard in his sleep as his cock grows larger than he has ever seen it before, his balls growing larger and hanging lower as he dreams of open fields and intense fights.
After no time at all however he wakes up with a start rocketing sweat into the room and tearing his pajama top. He is absolutely raring with energy that he needs to make use of. Before that though he sees a notification on his phone. Oh yeah, he didn’t use his pull did he. He smirks as he wonders what kind of hero he is to get next as he clicks through to roll hsi new character. As the light glimmers once more he hears a familiar grunt though as Enki once more dervishes with an ax through villains.
There is a slight disappointment in him as he sees he has somehow gotten this standard barbarian once more. Though seeing his stats improve as he now apparently has two starts sets him right as rain. His pulse races with excitement as he imagines how much better he will be. He quickly jumps out of bed, not noticing his pajama pants now rest at his mid-calf, and throws on some clothes to race to the gym to get his apparent free membership.
He neglects to take an uber or a bus however as he instead just starts to jog to the gym, not pulling up directions either as he somehow is able to intuit his way. In a lingering act of curiosity at what other heroes he could have pulled he clicks through the mages and thieves and smirks as he is suddenly glad he didn’t get such weak looking characters. He feels his shoes tighten as his feet surge larger once more carrying him to his destination. Besides denigrating the classes he usually enjoys playing he finds his eyes also catch on one named “Sir Gilgar” some kinda kingly paladin type who is apparently close with Enki. He tilts his head with interest at this man as he arrives at the gym.
Standing still he suddenly notices that he forgot to put on deodorant at home. He sniffs at his pits wondering how much of an issue it is to be, he definitely smells worse than usual, though it’s definitely not worth the trip back home. He is called over by the man at the front desk who bears an odd resemblance to the bear of a blacksmith from the game. “Yo bro! You play A.D.?” Erik nods his head as the receptionist continues, “Enki yeah?” Erik stumbles back in confusion, “Uh Erik actually?” to which the man just laughs “hah, oh yeah that’s what I meant. You’re friend told me you might be in.”
There is then an arm around Erik's shoulder, though heavier and higher than any of his friends could possibly have. Before he can turn to see however he notices that his less than pleasant musk is immediately overshadowed by the stink coming from this pit right next to his face, and finds himself taken aback once more as he is jealous, at the stink, whispering “what the fuck?” as he turns to this mammoth of a man.
The man before him is, familiar? He squints his eyes as he sees the chiseled chin and long wavy hair. Ah that’s why, he looks just like that paladin Erik just saw in game doesn’t he what was his name? “Gilgar?”
The man smiles and laughs heartily, a deep rumble that makes Erik blush as he looks down and pats him on the back. “Huhuh no bro,it’s me Jack! Thanks for downloadin’ the game dude it’s really helped me get uh, bigger? Yeah, huhuh! I was playin’ it all night.” Erik continues to stare the man up and down, struggling to find anything to reconcile that this is his friend Jack. As he does so though his memories quickly change as he hungrily stares at his defined chest and weighty biceps, this is actually what Sir Jack’s always looked like though? He then shakes his head to respond, “yeah I can tell dude, you certainly didn’t shower.”
“Huh” Jack grunts as he raises his arm to smell his pit, exposing a deep bush that Erik can’t help but stare in to with a hungry jealousy. He laughs once more, this time though there is something more sinister in it as Erik realizes that he has been staring down back at him the entire time, with something ulterior in his eyes. Before he can start to inquire or investigate what that is though Jack messes with his hair and heads for the showers, “why don’t you go and get started Erik, gonna need a lotta work to catch up with me huhuh!”
He turns and leaves Erik alone, as he feels a fire burn in his chest. He should use this. Erik puts the game away as he throws on a workout playlist and he starts going all out lifting weights and going at the machines. He doesn't wonder how he so perfectly knows how to carry his body and expertly perform flawless exercise at every turn. He smirks as his pulse continues to race as he goes all out to try and sculpt his body like Gilgar, er Jack did. There is an itch on Erik’s chest as he does so, hope it’s not a rash he thinks as he continues about the workout. He scratches at it as below his shirt hair begins to push out in the middle of his pecs. It swirls around aiming to cover them entirely as a similar itch starts winding his way up his stomach as his treasure trail expands thicker and darker, rising higher to connect his pubes to his increasingly expansive chest hair. The music on his phone changes without his notice to the songs from the game. Enki’s theme starts to rise in pitch as his grunts deepen with every thrust and pull of his workout. The deepest itch yet starts to emerge in his pits as he throws weights down to scratch at them His hands absolutely rank with his pit sweat as he brings his hand to his nose and smirks as he looks down to his darker hair, smirking as he already feels more like a man.
Erik then has the brilliant idea that if he switches to the treadmill where he’ll be able to play the game while still getting his blood pumping. Once he sets the treadmill going and pulls out the app, ignoring a picture sent from his friend, he sees that after starting his membership he has gotten another pull in game. He crosses his fingers this time desiring nothing more than to get himself, no, his Enki once more. He could not care about the improbability of it all as after the bright flash he hears the familiar grunt of Enki as he whispers under his breath along, still racing faster than he’s ever run before on this treadmill.
As he elevates his hero to three stars he finds himself running even faster on the treadmill. His stomps growing heavier as he continues to race faster and faster on the machine without lifting a finger or pushing a button to speed it up. He exhales through his nose like a bull as he feels his blood course through him, spreading a heat through the whole of his body. He clenches the arms of the treadmill just to exert further force upon it as his vision begins to grow red as he begins to outpace the fastest setting on the treadmill. Tears appear in his shoes and his thighs burst larger, absolutely tearing his shorts to shreds as he slams step after step into the track of the machine. He grasps at the knob of the treadmill trying to ratchet it faster than it’s max to little avail.
His blood burns in his veins as he twists the button off the shoddy machine and every muscle in his body tenses and surges larger as he feels rage become impossible to control, displacing every thought in his mind. His shirt strains and then bursts as his chest flexes larger exposing the newly hairy curls on his still growing pecs as each expansive breath surges deeper and heavier.
He strains to restrain himself from enacting violence in the middle of the gym as he sees his phone fall to the floor, somehow midway through yet another pull without his input. He feels spit on his chin dripping through a beard he didn’t even notice he started growing as he breathes through his clenched teeth. It begins to push out even further, his jaw itching deeply from every angle as his stubble becomes a dense beard, thicker than he would have thought ever possible as Enki’s familiar theme begins to blare from the phone dropped on the floor.
He pants as he struggles to hold back his rage though as the seconds pass he starts to wonder why he would ever do so, he is En- no he is Erik. He is a formidable, ugh. He clenches at his head as his legs push him higher into the air. He sees thick veins surge down his arms as they force themselves larger, hair darkening them up from his wrist and spreading up his biceps as his chest hair spreads to connect to his dense pits. His body begins to shake with the rage barely restrained.
At this moment there is once more a friendly arm around his shoulder and a familiar musk immediately breaks through his mindless anger as he turns to see his friend. His rival? It is not worth interrogating, he closes his eyes and smells the musk of his long companion Sir Gilgar. He turns to look him directly in the eyes, finding himself directly at eye level despite being well below it when he first stepped into the gym. There is a cocky smirk plastered on his face as if he were used to being the most impressive man in the room. Erik finds himself readily agreeing with this assessment, as long as of course Enki himself does not hold the position, shaking his head as he flexes groans as his body struggles to expand even further.
Erik shakes back to reality as he sees that Sir Gilgar has been talking to him, his eyes inscrutibly somewhere between a haughtiness and a hunger as he continues, “Sorry Enki are you not listening?” Erik feels his check burn and he groans as he responds, “I, I am Erik not ugh.” He feels his mind grow confused as he sees his friend, his bedfellow in front of him. Thoughts fly through his head from two worlds and he struggles to remember who, Erik is.
Seeing Erik’s eyes grow blank as drool begins to pool in his mouth Gilgar kneels to grab the phone and begins tapping through the menus of the game. Taking a moment to stare and smirk at his own reflection in the screen before navigating to a purchase menu for Erik. He sees the bulge in Erik’s shredded pants begin to grow heavier as he hands his phone to him and asks, “Why not get this over with Enki, just embrace it. Don’t you want to be with me? All you need to do is hit one button.”
Erik’s eyes blast back to focus as he grunts and his cock surges even larger in his underwear at the thought of being with the man in front of him. Without a thought he purchases one last pull and doesn’t even watch as he knows what is to occur. He feels his pulse begin to race as an itch spreads through his veins, every tendon and muscle in his body warms as he almost vibrates with energy. Gilgar leads him to the locker room as he continues to convulse and grow.
Memories of his life before this game fade without contest as he recalls life as Enki, the barbarian, the warrior. Pride surges through him as he remembers countless victories and the beyond countless days of training to ensure this. He recalls being the pride of his village, of his people, of Sir Gilgar’s eye. He remembers the fateful day they met and the wrestling match that ensued, the contest that locked them together ever more, and the subsequent wrestling matches that devolved into something even more primal.
These memories continue to surge into his head as he continues to follow his companion into the locker room. His suddenly confused at why he is in such a bizarre place, he is a warrior is he not? Enki scratches at his pit and sniffs the musty air before deciding not to care, thinking was more his friend’s purview. The only thing he is truly concerned about at the moment is the increasing weight in his crotch. Seeing Gilgar start to disrobe in the corner of this tiled room Enki’s lust grows beyond any ability to fight it as he pounces, not even thinking to remove his underwear as his cock pushes beyond the bounds anyway. The two then begin wrestling as they often do before it turns into the frotting that it always does these days.
Enki does not know or care for the game that he awoke obsessed with this morning. Nor will he ever again. In fact there are few things at all as he prefers to do anything but think. Though somewhere beyond his rage, beyond his lust, he will be grateful for that link sent by his companion for it has allowed him to experience truly mindless pleasure evermore.
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The Mentor Pt. 7
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: Your Hunger Games strategy goes off the rails when a friend comes to you with a plan
Part 6
“Look kid, this isn’t like last time, you’re not on a level playing field here.”
Katniss crossed her arms as she leaned back into the couch of District Twelve’s Capitol penthouse.
“These are Capitol darlings, lethal weapons, murderers one and all, gathered neatly together for an All Stars round. Of these stars, you are space dust. Recency may be on your side, but little else. They are older, stronger,”
Peeta effectively interrupted, “Who are they?”
“What?” Haymitch blinked.
“Take us through them. Surely you can offer some insight, after knowing them all these years,” he shrugged.
“I’ll ignore the fact you just called me old,” the older man walked off to grab the tablet that controlled the TV. District by district, he took his tributes through their competition.
When he got to District Four, Katniss beat him to it, “Finnick O’Dair, right?”
“Yes,” Haymitch confirmed, “he won his games at fourteen. Youngest ever. Extremely humble.” The image of the tall, bronzed man sauntering across their screen seemed to disagree.
“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned.
“Yes! I’m kidding,” Haymitch snapped. “He’s a,” he dramatically moved his hair, “peacock. A total preener. But he’s the Capitol Darling, they love him here. Charming, smart, and very skilled at combat. Especially in water.”
“What about weaknesses?” Peeta leaned forward.
“One,” Haymitch confirmed, “Mags. She was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way it exposes him.”
“A guy like that has to know she’s not gonna make it. I bet when it really comes down to it he won’t protect her,” Katniss shrugged.
“Well, Katniss,” Haymitch said, “I just hope when she goes she goes quickly. She’s actually a wonderful lady.”
Katniss blinked guiltily at his statement, and Peeta leaned back into the couch.
“But if he does ally with her it’ll make him less of a threat,” Peeta offered.
Haymitch let out a sour little laugh, “Oh, we’ll get to his allies.”
Peeta winced when Haymitch later marked the intimidating young woman from District Seven as one, and was surprised at the lack of others.
By the time he got to Ten, Katniss was antsy, “Can we wrap this up?”
“Sure if you want to ignore a huge fucking threat,” Haymitch shrugged.
“It looks like a strong gust of wind would blow him over,” Katniss complained.
“Not him,” her mentor snapped, clicking forward, “Darla Kennedy.”
Their attention went back to the screen when another young woman appeared, stepping forward and giving an assured nod to the cameras.
“Darla is young, well connected, and deadly with a whip,” Haymitch began.
“Who’s that behind her?” Peeta interrupted, noticing the woman peace keepers were escorting off stage.
“Well, since you mentioned it,” he rewinded the feed to when the young women were standing next to each other. “That,” he pointed to the one they weren’t familiar with, “is Darla’s mentor. One of the most popular tributes to ever come out of the games, and maybe the best mentor I’ve ever met.”
“How do you mean?” Peeta pressed.
“She saved Darla’s life about four times during her games with just wit and a warm smile,” he shrugged, “if she wanted a sponsor there’d be twenty knocking down her door. Kid’s a magnet, and a brilliant strategist. Not to mention, a great drinking buddy,” Haymitch finished.
“Not helpful,” Katniss griped, and the man rolled his eyes.
“Point is, if you don’t think she’s calling on every favor she’s owed and pulling every string in her arsenal to save that girl, you’re dead wrong. Darla’s practically all she has left,” Haymitch elaborated, “but both Ten ladies are good friends with Finnick.”
“Finnick?” Peeta asked, surprised.
“Not that he’d need the help with sponsors,” Haymitch shrugged, “but no doubt it’ll be a scary alliance. One you might consider joining.”
“No way,” Katniss scoffed.
“Like I said, I’m friends with their mentor, I could hook you up,” he doubled down.
“Not interested,” she grunted.
“Look,” Haymitch sat on the coffee table across from them, “you’re starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years.”
“That just puts us higher on their kill list,” Katniss snapped, crossing her arms.
“Do it your own way,” Haymitch shrugged, “but I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. Both of you.” He left the room before his words even sank in.
————————————
Your fingers twitched while you waited for Darla to wake up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for being an early bird, but after your games you couldn’t help but get up with the sun. Some lasting self-preservation instinct had always been your theory. You had a plan for her, not that she’d like it.
Shuffling from the hall caught your attention, and you perked up to see her walking toward the breakfast table half-awake.
“Morning,” you said, quickly. She just grunted as she poured herself some coffee. “I want to run something by you.”
She took a sip of coffee, placing pastries from the breakfast spread onto her plate. When she realized you weren’t still talking she looked up, and gestured for you to go on.
“I want you and Finnick working together,” you started.
Darla interrupted, mouth full of croissant, “Obviously, that was just a given.”
You clenched your jaw a bit, but barreled on, “and I want the two of you working with Johanna and-“
“No!” She cut you off, nostrils flared. “That’s a recipe for disaster, and you know it.”
“It’s the best plan I’ve got,” you fired back, “the Capitol knows the two of you were together. They’ll eat your dynamic right up, and keep you alive long enough for you to keep making good television.”
She looked indignant, but you doubled down, “Johanna is a strong fighter, and with Finnick distracted protecting Mags you’ll need to beef up your alliance. If Blight comes with her, the five of you can square off evenly against the careers.”
“We’re sure Finnick won’t want to join the pack?” Darla raised a brow, and you blinked at her in surprise.
“You really think he’d do that?” You asked, voice light. Would he? You were so certain of his character you hadn’t even considered the possibility. But the games always changed things- changed people. When she made a face at you, you shook it off, “You know he loves Mags, he wouldn’t just leave her. And the careers are too pragmatic to take on someone they see as dead weight.”
“Good thing I’m not pragmatic, then,” Darla said wryly, taking a bite of a fruit tart.
Pragmatic, no. Entertaining, yes. Watching Finnick care for Mags would melt hearts across the nation, and they wouldn’t be able to turn the cameras away from two bickering exes. Putting on a show was the first step to a one way ticket out of the arena. You just didn’t want to think about which one of your friends would be the one to take it.
Your strategy started as soon as the train pulled into the station. Walking onto the platform with an arm over Darla’s shoulder, and big smiles on both of your faces. If there was ever a time to appeal to the audience it was now. Normally you’d shy away from questions, but with a few cameras you were eager to assert your tribute early.
“We’re always happy to visit the Capitol! You all make us feel so welcome here!” Darla assured a reporter. So she had taken your strategy briefing to heart.
“While we wish we could be seeing you under better circumstances,” you jumped in, “we’re certainly going to make the most of our time here. You might just get sick of seeing us!” You laughed with the reporter, touching her wrist lightly.
From there you were off to the races, starting a campaign of phone calls in the car. Scheduling an appearance on daytime TV to talk up Darla, conversing with the connections you’d made over the years, and making appointments for drinks or coffee occupied your afternoon.
Darla took the time to settle in to the space, flicking through magazines on the couch as you talked your throat dry. After hanging up on another Capitolite, you scratched some more notes on the meticulous schedule you’d started.
“Time for a break?” Darla asked from the other room after a minute of silence.
“Time for a drink,” you complained, but caught a glimpse of the time. “Shit!”
“What?” She asked as you ran to the room you’d stayed in during your annual visits.
“I’m meeting Mrs. Montgomery for dinner!” You shouted back.
“Who?”
Within ten minutes you stumbled back out in a short, but stylish cocktail dress.
“How do I look?” You asked, shoving your feet into a small pair of heels as you smeared lipgloss on your mouth.
“Stellar,” Darla assured you, not bothering to look up from her magazine.
You were busy clipping your hair up, assessing your appearance in the microwave’s reflection. “Really?” You fretted, finally turning toward her.
“Absolutely!” She said enthusiastically, still not looking up.
Your shoulders dropped, “Fuck off!” Grabbing your purse, you headed for the door.
“Love you too! Thanks for all you do for-“
The slamming door cut her off, and she snickered.
Mrs. Montgomery was over the moon that’d you’d asked her out to dinner, and recommended her favorite spot in the city. Luckily it was only a few blocks away, and with some extra incentive your driver floored it. You walked into her embrace right on time, and successfully reminded her of how much she adored you for an hour.
Long ago you had learned just how much Capitolites liked to talk about themselves, and you used it to your advantage more often than not. Questions like, “How are your students? I so regret I haven’t been able to visit recently!” Were unbelievably well received, and further endeared you to the very wealthy woman who sat across the table.
Finally, she came to address the elephant in the room, “I’m sure it’s hard for you to be here under these circumstances.”
You nodded, “It is. This is my home away from home, but I can’t help but worry for Darla.” She nodded sympathetically, you had her hooked, but it was time to reel her in, “She’s so so capable, and I know she’ll go far, but I need her to come home.”
Mrs. Montgomery reached across the table for your hand, “We’ll be happy to sponsor Darla.” She spoke on behalf of herself and her ultra-rich husband, who you’d have the displeasure of meeting as a client.
“It would mean so much to me to have yours and Mr. Montgomery’s support. Please tell him I asked after him, by the way,” you squeezed her hand gently. You might come to regret it later, but what was the point of being forced to have a roster if you couldn’t put them to good use. The man was richer than God, and had requested your company on multiple occasions. An appeal to his wife and to him, though indirectly, would go far. You could face any consequences later.
You paid for dinner yourself, though Mrs. Montgomery did protest, earning even more points towards your cause. A warm goodbye hug marked your departure, and soon enough you were B-Lining to the hotel bar in the lobby of the training center.
—————
“If it isn’t my favorite District Twelve victor,” an airy voice pulled Haymitch’s attention from the glass of bourbon he’d been swirling. Pleasantly surprised to see you, he turned the futuristic stool next to him in your direction.
“Well, have a seat, your highness,” he invited, and you settled in at the bar. “What are you drinking?”
“Surprise me,” you set your purse on the counter. He slid you his untouched glass of bourbon. “Lazy,” you complained, before taking a sip.
“You’re just the gal I’ve been wanting to see,” a small smile spread across his thin lips and raised alarm bells in your mind.
“Why’s that?” You asked cautiously.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he stood from his chair, but you shook your head.
“Let’s not,” you weren’t aiming to be associated with Twelve right now. If Capitolites saw the two of you on the street and got to talking, it could be bad for business. Katniss and Peeta made for a good show, but with your finger on the pulse of the Capitol, you could tell when Snow was displeased. That wasn’t an obstacle you currently needed in your way.
Haymitch put his hands up in surrender, “Then I’ll mix you something better.” He winded around to the other side of the bar. Stopping in front of you, he snatched the glass of bourbon back and polished it off. Where the bartender had run off to, you couldn’t say.
“What do you want?”
“Your ear,” he crushed some mint at the bottom of a new glass. “I just don’t want you to waste your efforts.”
Your brow furrowed, he was crazier than you thought if he was asking you to back off, “I spend my energy carefully, thank you.”
“Then spend it on this,” he plopped a mojito in front of you, “your girl makes it out and so does mine.”
You raised a brow, inspecting both him and your drink, “You know that can’t happen.”
“If you pretend we’re flirting while I lean in to tell you the plan it can,” you blinked for a second before meeting him halfway.
“A transport is coming from District Thirteen to pick up Katniss and anyone aiding her from the arena. They want her for the rebellion,” Haymitch breathed into your ear. Pretending you hadn’t just heard literal whispers of treason involving a long-dead district was difficult, but you managed to swallow your shock.
“When?” If true, this would change everything. Your moves would need to incorporate Katniss and Peeta, your endgame would be totally different. But first you had to determine the chances of this going wrong.
“I don’t know yet,” Haymitch whispered.
“Give me something here,” you pleaded, “I can’t work with nothing. How could I trust a pretty promise?”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he warned, and you angled your head enough so he could see your glare. “You know very well I’m too chicken to take anything less than a sure bet.”
“You’re awful at gambling, and you’re a reckless old drunk,” you snarked quietly back, this wasn’t a risk you could take lightly.
“I’m telling you this because I need your help, and Darla’s, and Finnick’s, and Johanna’s,” he went on, but you cut him off.
“You’re assembling a team of political defectors?”
Haymitch’s nostrils flared, but went on before you could protest further, “We need to keep Katniss alive until Plutarch can get her and her allies out of that arena.”
“Plutarch?” That caught you off guard, and you reeled back. Your volume clearly bothered him, though the bar was empty. Haymitch clapped a hand over your mouth.
“Yes,” he confirmed quietly, scanning the room, “though this is all meant to be secret!”
You smacked his hand away, “Then what is my part in your lovely little treason plot?”
“You need to recruit the others,” Haymitch nodded.
“Excuse me?!”
“Well, as helpful as you’ll be pulling strings from behind the scenes, Katniss needs allies in the arena,” he said.
“You really think they’d commit treason because I asked nicely?” You were skeptical.
“Yes,” he nodded, and you gaped.
Shaking it off, you kept pushing, “What makes you think they’ll work with her? What makes you think she’ll work with them?”
“She doesn’t know about this,” he said sharply, “and she can’t. All they have to do is not kill her, and eliminate those tributes who might.”
“The careers, then,” you tilted your chin up.
“Bingo.”
You took a sip of the now slightly watered mojito, “So what does she know?”
“What you did when you won,” he offered, “shoot to kill, play to win.”
“Will she take any allies?” You asked, taking a deep breath, “You know that’d make things easier.”
“I’m working on it,” he shook his head.
“Yeah, that’s a no,” you huffed a laugh, astounded by the turn of events. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. You knew Katniss had stirred something up, but had not foreseen a full fledged rebellion on the immediate horizon.
“She needs time,” Haymitch insisted, “Peeta will help her see the logic behind strong allies.”
“And how much does he know?” You set your glass down with a clink. Haymitch just shook his head. Sighing, you barreled on, “I don’t like this, you know?”
“I know,” he nodded, eyes clear and serious. You weren’t sure you’d seen him quite like this before. “But you’ll do it. You don’t want to have to choose between Finnick and Darla.”
Tightening your grasp around the glass, you ran your tongue across your teeth. Fuck if he didn’t have you pinned. If there was even a slight chance you could save them both, you’d take it. Just when Haymitch had realized how deep your affection for Finnick ran, you had no clue. Suddenly, you hoped you weren’t a chatty drunk.
“Your lives will all be better for it,” Haymitch said, “we’ll all be free.” You met his gaze head on, and were surprised to find hope lying in them.
“I’ll talk to D tonight,” you nodded once, “and I’ll get to Fin and Jo.” Haymitch’s shoulders sagged with something like relief. When you clocked Peeta walking in from the other side of the room, you knew it was time to wrap things up. You leaned in close, again.
“But don’t think I’m doing all your dirty work, Old Man,” you said lowly, with a coy grin, “I’m sending them your way!” You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a lip stick print. Quickly grabbing your purse, you sprung off your stool.
With some manufactured pep in your step, you walked towards the blond boy. “Don’t let him fix you a drink, Peeta,” you said, conversationally, “for a drunk, he’s piss poor at it!” The last part was directed at your old pal, who’d now placed the lot of you in a precarious spot.
“I missed you too, Sugar!” He yelled back, wide grin on his face as you sauntered toward the elevator.
Peeta looked at him, amused, but skeptical, “What’d she want?”
“A piece of this!” Haymitch gestured dramatically toward himself, and picked up the glass you’d left behind. Polishing it off, he choked a little at the taste. You’d been right, of course, he was a little rusty at bartending.
——————————
You tugged at the shoulder of Darla’s tribute outfit. When you’d suggested leather to the stylist, this wasn’t what you’d meant. Skin tight, black patent leather reflected sunlight into your eyes. You let your hand come to your brow as you shook your head.
“What?”
You raised a brow at the stylist, one of Darla’s.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You don’t think it leans a little… kinky?” You shrugged, frustrated.
“Well, you said leather,” the stylist defended themself.
“And you took that as BDSM?”
Darla threw her hands up in the air at your comment, tired of being examined, and wandered off.
You sent the stylist away before they could argue any further. This parade was already a mess. Your plans to put Darla on horseback, to harken back to her first parade, were ruined by Darby’s apparent inability to ride a horse. There was no way you could put her on horseback if those poor creatures were pulling a cart as well. You pet one of the horses that would be pulling the Ten tributes, and the action calmed you a bit. Only, your peace was disturbed when you saw Finnick putting the moves on Katniss.
Of the ways to piss off the standoffish girl you’d been charged with helping protect, he had to pick this one. It took about ten seconds for you to march over and fix it.
“I’m sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you,” you overheard. His voice oozed with sarcasm and you rolled your eyes.
“Is this strange man bothering you, Katniss?” You didn’t wait for a response before dragging him off by his ear.
“Hey, now,” he complained, but kept at your side. “Peeta,” Finnick tried for a dignified nod as you passed him, but came up short.
“Finnick,” he nodded back, gaze turning to you.
“Bye, Peeta!” You waved with your free hand.
“See ‘ya, Sugar,” he waved back, kindly.
Finnick planted his feet, freeing himself in an instant, “Sugar?!” He stood to his full height and shot the Twelve tribute a sour look. You rolled your eyes and started dragging him by the wrist instead. While you were going to correct Peeta, you no longer saw a point.
“Sugar?” Katniss questioned too, a skeptical look on her face.
“Is that not her name?” Peeta was confused. “That’s what Haymitch called- oh,” he seemed to have answered his own question, and Katniss let out a small laugh.
“What was that?” You asked Finnick, when you’d finally pulled him to a secluded area.
“What? I was just being nice,” he defended himself, about to pop a sugar cube in his mouth. You plucked it from his hand and tossed it over you shoulder. Finnick blinked.
“So I was trying to sus her out,” he shrugged, “big deal. If the Capitol finds out their romance is a lie, their support goes up in flames… like her little dresses.”
You rolled your eyes. If you were still playing to win, you would’ve liked his angle, but as it was, you had to steer the ship back on course. “Play nice with her, would you? I’m working on something.”
“You’re working on something that includes the girl on fire?”
You grabbed his wrist, “Keep it quiet and come find me later. Find Haymitch too!” Sensing the parade was about to start, you turned to go.
“Some greeting,” he complained, moodily. You stopped in your tracks, and turned again to face him.
“Did I forget to say hi to you and your abs and your skirt?” You asked facetiously.
“You did” he nodded, “we were offended.” Rolling your eyes amusedly, you stepped up close to him.
“Hello Finnick,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Hi Finnick’s abs,” your gaze moved down as you went, “hi Finnick’s skirt.” You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you looked back up at him. “Happy?” You asked.
“Very,” he nodded, soundly.
“Good,” you nodded back.
“I missed that smile.” He said lowly, leaning in a bit. You were really fighting against your grin, now.
“It missed you too,” you said, refusing to make eye contact.
“Really?” His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.
“Don’t you have a populous to charm?” You tilted your head.
“I’ve got a you to charm, first,” he blinked, innocently. When he reached out to tug on a strand of your hair, you’d had enough.
You lightly swatted his hands away and skittered back, “Go! … Do your parade prep,” you sputtered.
Finnick tried to conceal his laughter at your reaction. He just loved to see you flustered. “If you insist,” he bowed his head and began to trot off. But he couldn’t resist throwing a melodic goodbye over his shoulder and taking one last glance to see you hurry off.
————————————
Finnick wouldn’t see you again until later, though he did try. He eventually found you at a party that night, a young Capitol socialite you were both familiar with was throwing a celebration in honor of the games.
When he saw Darla tearing up the dance floor, he had no doubt that you were behind the appearance, and started scanning the rooms in the penthouse. Finally, he found you hidden away in a quiet spot, typing away on a tablet.
Hard at work securing sponsors, no doubt. If he was lucky, he’d be reaping the rewards of Darla’s 101 sponsor gifts. Maybe you’d even deign to send him a little something. He called your name to pull you from your work.
You looked up from your tablet, curiously. His hand tensed. When did you start wearing glasses? How did they make you look even more-
“Finnick?” You arched a brow.
“Yup?” He said, shoving both hands in his pockets.
You blinked at him from your spot on a couch, “Spaced out there for a second?”
“Yup,” he nodded. You rose to meet him when you noticed he wasn’t moving to sit beside you. He watched the slinky black dress graze your thighs as you walked.
“Are you alright?”
“Yup,” he said, a little breathy.
“Okay,” you said, skeptically, “So in terms of-“
“Sorry,” he interrupted, swallowing, “when did you start wearing glasses?”
“What?” You asked, not quite following his train of thought.
He inched closer and adjusted the frames on your nose as you blinked up at him, “When did this become a thing?”
“I-“ you floundered. Was he blushing?
“Okay, lovebirds,” Johanna breezed into the room. You jolted and Finnick snatched his hands away from your face in surprise. “Wrap it up, I want to hear this brilliant plan of yours.”
She directed the last part towards you. You had found her earlier and told her essentially the same thing you’d said to Finnick. Johanna was surly, sure, but had a soft spot for you. She’d won the year after Darla, and you eventually took her under your wing as well. Not in time to warn her to take Snow’s threats seriously, but soon enough to comfort her before she could spiral too badly.
You tried to shake off the confusing last few moments, “Alright, well, marketing it as my plan was maybe a little disingenuous.” They both seemed confused at your words. “But if it’s the plan I think it is it’s a plan I can get behind,” you rushed out
“Are we throwing a surprise party? What the hell are you talking about?” Johanna asked.
“Look, I,” you did a quick glance around the room, and motioned for them to follow you. They both did, but it only further soured Johanna’s mood. When you found a private enough corner, you told them what Haymitch had told you.
“So what? We have to protect pretty little princess for a free ticket out of here?” Johanna spat.
“Basically,” you nodded. Looking over at Finnick, you tried to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t said anything, and still seemed deep in thought.
You knew neither of your friends were fond of the Capitol. They had both lost more than they’d care to admit to these people, but you couldn’t begrudge them for trying to think this through. You’d spent a few hours doing the same before you brought it to Darla last night, and she had to sleep on it.
“Look,” you tried again, “the reality is, she probably won’t ally with you. I still think the smartest thing to do would be to bring both your district partners and Darla into an alliance of five. If you can manage to knock out some threats to her, you can bide your time until the free plane ride.”
They both seemed to relax a bit at that, but there was still some hesitance. “You really think throwing Darla and I together is a smart move?” Johanna asked smartly.
“I don’t take this lightly,” you said with an air of scolding, “I’m trying to keep you safe. Right now, the only way I know how is asking you to watch each others backs in the arena while I watch yours from here. Can you trust me to do that?”
“Yes,” Finnick chimed in seriously, speaking for the first time in minutes.
Johanna was silent for only a few seconds longer, “Yes. But don’t expect me to be nice to her.”
You weren’t quite sure if she was talking about Katniss or Darla, but either way it didn’t surprise you. You only shrugged at her before she walked away.
“So,” you turned casually back to Finnick, “where were we?” You gave him a quick once over, and he seemed to tense up.
“I think I might turn in,” he nodded quickly, brow furrowed. When you titled your head and shot him a confused glance he barreled on, laughing awkwardly, “Big day tomorrow, super tired, goodnight!” He took smell steps backward with every word before practically bolting.
He breezed past Darla, face a little flushed. She smirked a little at his quick pace, and shook her head as she approached you. “What was that about?” She laughed.
“Beats me,” you shook your head, confused and a more than a little disappointed at his departure. After all, you hadn’t seen him in a few months. Most of your phone calls had circled back to the quell, and you would’ve liked some time together. At least the escape plan had made you more optimistic about your chances of seeing him again.
————————————
“Answer me this,” Darla’s voice startled him the next day at training. “Why’d you leave the party in a rush?”
“Sorry?” Finnick remembered it well, but in the light of day was better able to keep his cool. Damned glasses.
Darla rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you tell me after I kick your ass?” She gestured toward the mats set up in an alcove and started walking that way. He followed her lead and took on a fighting stance.
She started to throw out guesses as he dodged her jabs. “Indigestion?” He blocked a punch. “Had to vomit?” Blocked a kick. “Left the oven on?” Sidestepped a hit. Her barrage continued until he swept her legs out from under her.
Darla landed on the mat without complaint, more concerned with him than with training. “Then what sent you running from my lovely mentor?”
Finnick offered her a hand up, but she swept his legs out too. Lying in opposite directions on the floor, he made his first verbal defense. “What, you don’t get sick of those parties?”
She propped herself up on her elbows and sent him a glare. It was intimidating too, but Darla had learned from the best. “Cut the crap, I know there’s a reason. No way she could fathom being rude to you, so that’s out.” Finnick rolled his eyes as sat up. “And she’s got no game so no way she made you blush.”
“Come on,” he said, defensively, pushing to his feet, “don’t insult her.”
Darla perked up at this, and accepted the hand he had once again offered, “Wait, it was really her that made you blush? What on Earth did she say?”
“Drop it, D,” he warned, stalking off.
“I am so getting to the bottom of this!” She chirped, smiling at his departing figure.
Darla gave him some space for a while, flitting around the various stations. The practical skills called out to her, no use practicing with weapons when she was already as good as she’d get.
When she saw Finnick bothering Katniss she made her way over to intervene. He’d tied a noose around his neck, the cheeky bastard. Just when he held it out for Katniss to take, Darla snatched it and pulled him away.
She heard him wheeze and let up on her grasp. “Fuck,” Finnick choked out as loosened the rope from around his neck. “Darla!” He scolded her once he was properly free.
“Don’t antagonize the girl,” she said, stopping once they were out of ear shot, “and don’t act like you’re not spoken for.”
He didn’t bother replying to the first part, “I’m not spoken for.” Darla shot him a glare, saying you’re really going to pretend I’m wrong? with just her eyes. When he glared back she only shrugged.
“You could be,” she sassed, and he took a sharp breath.
“I don’t think now is the time to-“
“If not now then when?!” Darla whisper-yelled, “Newsflash buddy, you still might die. So do you want to die sad and alone… or spoken for?”
“Do I really come off as sad and alone?” Finnick blinked.
“Only to those who know you,” she shook her head.
“Gee thanks, Darla,” he said flatly.
“It’s my pleasure,” she gave him a friendly yet exaggerated shoulder bump. “Come on, let’s catch the show.” Finnick followed her off to join the crowd forming around Katniss’s simulation session.
Darla could see the faces of the other tributes drop as Katniss put down figure after figure. They were nearly all modeled after the rest of them, and featured their signature weapons at the very least. She clenched her jaw when Katniss shot the female figure holding a whip straight through the face. No mistaking who that was meant to be. She saw Finnick twitch when Katniss shot the figure with a trident through the chest. By the end, it was clear that the girl was absolutely on the level of every person there. If luck was on her side, and she wanted to, she could likely kill each one of them.
Wiress started clapping, and it killed some of the tension in the air. But the quell was getting more interesting by the minute.
——————-
The four of you sat in silence in a both in the empty lounge within the training center. You traced the rim of your drink, hoping Haymitch would arrive soon since he asked you all to meet him there. The casual conversation had died out a bit ago, having run out of outfits to make fun of to keep the conversation light. It was hard not to think about your immediate circumstances.
You shivered a little, still unused to the central air the Capitol pumped through all their buildings. Finnick caught your eye and nodded his head in the other direction, inviting you to scoot closer to him. You would’ve shaken your head if you hadn’t put on a tank top earlier, but you were chilly enough to press up against his side in a bid to steal body heat.
Finnick raised a hand to wave to Haymitch when he saw the older man scanning the place. He settled the arm over your shoulder when he was done. Behind your head, he caught Darla narrow her gaze at him and sent her a look of warning.
“What’s the update?” He asked Haymitch as the man slotted into the space at the edge of the curved booth.
“Well, Katniss is not keen on allies,” he said, instantly off to a bad start, “though she is interested in the District Three Tributes.”
“Excuse me?” Johanna asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Wiress and Beete.”
“You mean she wants Nuts and Volts for allies?” Darla asked, and heard Johanna try to muffle a snicker. She tried not to smirk at the sound. So much for ‘not understanding her’ or whatever Jo had said during their breakup.
“Look, don’t shoot the messenger,” he defended himself.
“Maybe we should if the message is dumb,” Johanna snarked, crossing her arms.
“She said she liked them,” Haymitch repeated, and the whole table winced. Maybe as people, Darla thought, though even that might be a stretch, but as allies? In terms of physical game it’d be like tying a brick around your ankle. Hadn’t the girl seen anyone else at work? Johanna’s axe skills? The second time she and Finnick had sparred?
“Anyone else?” You tried, hoping for a better result. Haymitch thought for a second before snapping his fingers.
“Yeah, Mags!” Darla groaned, make that two bricks. Finnick used the arm he’d draped across your shoulders to flick Darla in the ear.
“Mags and I are a package deal,” Finnick asserted. Not a chance in hell he’d trust someone else to protect Mags.
“Then my bet would be no deal from the girl on fire,” Haymitch shrugged.
“Ok, so we’re keeping Katniss alive, but Three too?” Darla asked.
“Haven’t we established-?”
“We’ve got it,” you reassured him, and Finnick and Johanna nodded.
“Good,” Haymitch saidd. “We’ll,” he nodded in your direction, “keep in touch through sponsor gifts. But it’ll have to be subtle, so keep your thinking caps on.”
“Is that it?” Johanna asked, bored.
“No actually,” he went on, “when the time comes you’ll have to cut out your trackers and one of you will have to get Katniss’s.”
“Shit,” Darla said.
“Squeamish?” Johanna taunted her from the other side of the table. Haymitch interrupted before a fight could break out.
“Before then,” he said, firmly, “I’d recommend making a big show of the interviews. Last chance to drum up public outrage at this, maybe get it cancelled.” Johanna scoffed at that, but Haymitch kept on, “At the very least it’ll be good for sponsors.”
“He’s right about that,” you nodded, already thinking up possible interview angles for Darla.
Haymitch grinned, “I’ll see you all there.” He pushed away from the table, heading back to his own tributes, no doubt.
Johanna walked away next, and Darla popped up to follow her.
“Think they’ll kill each other before the games start?” Finnick asked, angling his head to look at you.
You let out a chuckle, still tucked under his arm. “Let’s hope not. I’m counting on those repressed feelings to bring in sponsorships,” you replied, watching the two walk off. He grinned, shaking with a bit of laughter. When you looked up to catch his gaze, you realized how close you were.
“They sure are powerful,” Finnick said, holding your gaze.
You blinked at him, “Sorry?”
“Repressed feelings,” he clarified, doing his best to look innocent. You elbowed him and scooted away from his grasp and out of the booth. You’d been dancing around your feelings for him for so long you didn’t know how to do anything else.
“Goodnight, Finnick!” You called over your shoulder as you marched away. He sighed as he watched you go, a small smile working on his face. Maybe Darla was onto something.
------------------------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed <3333 next part coming soon! That one will cover the interviews and the start of the games at least
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it’s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
Part Ten
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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
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