#i just. love how the bucks use the golden trigger on him the move that he and ibushi created so thats just. a huge fuck you to him

[tottenhamhotsperm]

i think about this moment all the time

#aew #young bucks #matt jackson #nick jackson #golden lovers #kenny omega #kota ibushi #video #first of all screw off jr for calling it a double v trigger and thank you excalibur for using the CORRECT name #i just. love how the bucks use the golden trigger on him the move that he and ibushi created so thats just. a huge fuck you to him #as one reddit user said its like reminding him 'this is why your ex broke up with you' #and kenny retaliated by kicking out at 1 #god. the crowd reaction was amazing too i mean cmon jr if all those people in the crowd know the story behind it shouldnt you too #nicks expression after kenny kicked out. perfect. kenny hitting the mat. amazing. they dont make matches like this anymore #sorry for the essay in the tags but yeah. i think about this moment a lot #gl classics

[simping-overload]

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴅᴇᴇʀ - ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʜᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ

a/n: showing my love for my favorite Greek God of all time, Hermes<3 this is a multichapter fanfic.

trigger warnings: animal hunting so animal death. Religious themes and practices

synopsis: You never thought helping out a lost hobo would end up with you in the loving embrace of a god.

『read on ao3』

『prev chapter ⟺ next chapter』

disclaimer: hermes is based on his BOZ, EPIC, and canon mythology. I don't really know how ancient greece actually was or how hunting works so take this with a grain of salt! It is just fanfiction :)

You come from a village that has been long-term worshippers of the goddess, Artemis. Each year, the village holds a festival, Laphria¹. With this festival, of course, comes activities, the most important being the hunt. Where 3 main selected participants, who were allowed to bring at the maximum two others along the hunt with them, they were to hunt down a large stag, whoever was to bring back the largest wins.

The reward would entail being given a large sum of money and being allowed to worship the goddess to the fullest extent, which means you'd get to say your prayers before everyone, including the high elders.

This year, you were finally chosen for the hunt, much to the joy of your family and friends. You were their best hunter and tracker, able to find an animal with ease regardless of how little the evidence that has been left behind.

After passing a familial trail—hunting a snow hare in the middle of snowstorm— you were gifted a beautiful pup who you named Winston². The two of you were jointed at the hip. There wasn't a place you'd go without him. This included the hunt.

You decided to bring two of your beloved friends along, Damian and Agnes. You set off at dawn, racing into the trees on the back of your horses, Winston running ahead as the scout.

Agnes and Damian were chattering away behind you as you looked over the map. You wanted to try and plan out all paths you could safely use.

"So...do you think if I win this, it would get Corinna at the very least interested in me?" Damian questions, fiddling with the horses' reins. He had a crush on Corinna ever since they were teens, spending most of his time trying to impress her— which failed considering he always made a fool of himself.

Agnes, bless her, rolling her eyes as she listens to Damian rant, just as the millions times before. She's been friends with him since they were babies. Both of their mothers were the best of friends, so it makes sense they were too.

You didn't come into the picture until you were about 7 or so, moving here to take care of your grandmother after she got sick.

You met Agnes when your mother invited hers over, and then her mother invited Damian's over. You all were just placed in front of each other and expected you all to click automatically. Thankfully, you did, and you've been friends ever since.

"Probably, but you need to remember Nikolaos is in this competition too, I know he's been desperate to get her hand as well." She pauses as her horse jumps over a fallen tree. She looks back at Damian with a blank stare and continues. "And also this could've been avoided if you just grew a pair of balls and confessed."

"I can't just do that— I need to get her attention first. Maybe we'll find that white stag the elders ramble about." Damian giggles as he pictures Corinna leaping into his arms and saying yes to his proposal. He was such a lovesick fool.

"Or maybe she's already interested and is waiting for you to confess. I've heard its custom in her family for the woman to wait for the man to ask, no matter how long it takes." You chime in, not looking up from your map.

"Wait wh—" Damian is cut off when a large gray wolf jumps from out of the trees, holding a white hare in its mouth.

Your horse, startled, bucks you off its back, sending you to the forest floor. You're now eye level with the wolf, noticing how its eyes are an unnatural golden color.

You and the wolf stared each other down for a moment before it huffed and leaps back into the trees. Agnes drops down from her horse and rushes to your side, while Damian goes off to fetch your horse.

You snapped out of your daze when you felt something wet touched your cheek. It was Winston, licking at you and whining in concern.

You pat his head to calm him, and you lean on Agnes for support as you stand. She brushes the dirt and leaves off your back.

"Hey, you okay?" She questions, her freckled face is laced with concern.

You feel fine, a little sore, but nothing you hadn't been through before. There was something about that wolf that just stuck with you, "Yeah, I'm fine. That wolf, though... its eyes were like pure gold."

"Maybe it's one of Lady Artemis' wolves? It wouldn't be the first time she's watched over the hunts." She suggests, steppingaway from you once you've steady yourself. Damian comes back with your now calm horse, handing you the reins.

"I suppose? Though I never heard of a wolf having pure gold eyes before... Anyway, Winston, did you see anything?

Winston barks in reply, his tail wagging before he runs off. You mount your horse and begin to follow him. You motion the other two to do the same.

Winston leads you to what looks to be a temple, one that seems to have been neglected for years. Nature has taken over, vines have trickled up and wrapped themselves around the columns, and grass and flowers grow from the cracks of the floor. The usual pure white of the marble has faded into a off white tan color with a thin layer of moss across the surface.

"Let's make sure the area is safe for us to set up camp here. Agnes, check out the back of the temple, and Damian, you'll start with the outer perimeter. I'll start with the inside. Regroup to the front once you're sure no one else has been here."

Agnes nods, and Damian gives an alright in response before going back into the forest. You dismount your horse, tying it to a loose fence post. You make your way up the cracked stone steps and into the temple.

The rays of sun lit the inside of the temple, illuminating the illustrations that line the walls and ceilings. Going off of the winged shoes on the god that was illustrated, this was a temple of Hermes. You wonder if there was ever a village that was here before yours that were worshippers of him.

Your search around the temple came up empty, with no human activity. Only animals and plants seemed to have been inside. You leave the temple in time to see with Damian and Anges coming back.

"There doesn't look like there's anyone for miles, only animals. I saw the cutest fox kits." Anges says.

"Same here, though I wasn't blessed with seeing any cute aniamls today." Damian pouts, dismounting his horse, kneeling down next to Winston to ruffle his fur, "Expect for this bugger." Winston barks and licks the man's hand.

You chuckle, "Looks like it's safe to set up camp here, we'll need to find something to eat, so I'll try and find something for us. You two just set up camp and remember to use the horn if anything happens."

They give you mock salutes in response before they begin to take the supplies off the horses and into the temple. You mount yours and whistle for Winston to follow as you trot off into the woods.

It doesn't take you long to hunt something down. After finding some boar tracks, Winston leads the rest of the way to the creature. Upon finding it, you ready your bow, steadying yourself on the moving horse as you focus your aim on the boar.

You suck in a breath, drawing back your arrow and whispering a short prayer to Artemis as you relase. The arrow pierces through the side of the boar, straight to the heart, quick and painless.

Suddenly, you hear a loud scream, and off in the distance, you can see someone running towards you with what looks like a... deer? Chasing after them. Winston stands alert, ears perked, and focused on the person getting closer to you. You hold your reins tight while Winston moves in front of the horse.

The person turned out to be Nikolaos. You spot his signature ginger hair showing from under his hood before he trips over a log and face plants in front of you. He doesn't try to exchange pleasantries as he scrambles up to keep running.

The deer came soon after, gracefully hopping over the log. It glanced at you for a meer moment, giving you enough time to see its golden eyes. The same color from the wolf.

You hop down off your horse, making your way to the boar.

You are for sure this time that it wasn't Artemis. Maybe some other god?

You wrap the boars legs tight with string as you bring it back to your horse, settling it on the rear. Positioned so it won't slip off, you mount your horse once more before going back the direction you came.

As you make your way back. Your mind wanders back to Hermes. It could be him. After all, he's one of the more playful gods known for his pranks and tricks. You'll have to make an offering to him for letting you sleep in the temple, regardless if it's abandoned or not, and so he doesn't prey on your friends like he did Nikolaos.

By the time you made it to camp, it was dusk. Agnes greets you outside, taking the horse reins from you. You take the boar off of the horse, taking off to the side as you make quick work of the animal, cutting off the hide and chopping the pieces of meat you need. You leave whatever is left for Winston and the other forest creatures to feast.

Damian is quick to start cooking. Thankfully, his mother was kind enough to pack spices so your group wouldn't have to suffer tasteless food.

Until the sky went dark, you spent the rest of your time eating and talking. Damian nearly choked on his food when he heard you recant the experience in the woods earlier. He says he wishes he could've seen the look on that bastards face when he was running away. Agnes jokes that Nikolaos probably looked like a scared chicken. Which admittedly, he did, come to think of it, his screams sounded like the human equivalent of one.

As the night went on, it got quiet, Damian was the first to sleep, and Agnes was next. Winston is sprawled out in between them, snoring away. Before you rest, you bring a plate of food and burning incense to the altar.

You whisper, "Please, Hermes. The God of speed and travel grant us permission to make sanctions in your temple. If you disapprove, we will be out as the sun rises. Take this food as a thank you for allowing us to sleep here for the night." You pause. "Also... please refrain from chasing us as a deer or anything else for that matter. While it was funny what you did to Nikolaos, I would rather not soil my pants." You chuckle, placing the food onto the alter and the incense in a dusty holder.

You go back to your original resting place, leaning against the pillar. You feel a soft and comfortable breeze flow through the temple. The sounds of the trees rustling soothe you into a nice slumber.

Still in deer form, Hermes walks through the woods, no set destination just allowing the fates to choose where he will end up. Faintly, he can hear someone whisper a prayer.

"Please, Hermes. The God of speed and travel grant us permission to make sanctions in your temple. If you disapprove, we will be out as the sun rises..."

It was not often that he received prayers, especially not in his sisters park of Greece. He lets the prayer pull him towards the location.

Switching to his human form, he approaches the temple. It was one of his firsts. A gift to him by his father. While unkept, it still stood strong.

He sniffs the air, a familiar smell, boar. Not only did he get a prayer, but he got an offering, too? Just what he needed after chasing the mortals.

He giggles as he makes his way inside, involuntary waking up Winston, who was silenced a quick shush and a pat to the head.

Hermes looks around at the mortals who sleep before him. Wondering who said the prayer, his eyes land on you. Still leaned against the pillar, head thrown back against it. Your hand is tightly wrapped around a dagger. Ready to strike if need be.

He studied your face for a moment, his hand twitched with the desire to trace over your features. You were very attractive for a mortal, and judging from the faint golden aura he could see emitting from you, you're the one who prayed.

He steps away with a grin, making his way to the alter. He picks the plate up, nearly drooling on the food. As much as he'd love to take his time eating, he's a glutton. In seconds, the plate is empty. He holds back a burp as he makes his way back out of the temple, glancing at you as he makes his way out.

Well, he's going to have some fun on this vacation.

#hermes #hermes x reader #greek mythology #greek mythology x reader #boz hermes x reader #boz x reader #blood of zeus #blood of zeus x reader #epic the musical #epic hermes #epic hermes x reader #god x human #god x mortal #fanfiction #greek god x reader #greek gods #greek god #greek gods x reader

[violetasteracademic]

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter Three (Ao3 Azriel x Elain Fanfic)

Chapter three is finally out, and Elain and Azriel are *finally* alone together to face what happened on Solstice.

I do have all relevant warnings and tags on Ao3, but just a friendly reminder that this is an angst/fluff/smutwithplot romance with some darker themes like self harm, pain with pleasure, and light bondage. We are just now getting a peek into the dynamic between Az and Elain this chapter (thank you guys for being patient and giving the story a chance!) but if any of those themes might be triggering or disturbing to you, now is the time to halt. It is only going to crank up from here on out!

Link to Ao3 on the bottom! Here is a little sneak peak into this next chapter.

Prieview:

Azriel

“You said you didn’t want me,” Elain said as she got to her feet and quickly backed away to the other side of the room.

“I never said that,” Azriel growled, rising to his feet as well.

“You said it was a mistake,” She replied. That icy, distant exterior drawing itself over her again. She kept moving away from him until her back hit the wall. “You said it was a mistake, and then you left. You were just gone. Completely gone. I didn’t hear from you for a week, Azriel, and I thought it would be much longer than that before I did. You made me think that I… that I had gotten things so wrong. I thought I was crazy. And then out of the blue you are asking me to meet you in the middle of the night because... because you’re mine. What is it you expect me to say? Is this just going to be another mistake for you?”

Azriel leaned over her, his forearms nearly shaking with rage and restraint. How could she possibly believe that he didn’t want her? He had never, never lost his temper over her like he had to Rhysand that night. He had been so careful, his mask always in place. But his brother saw right through him. Saw how desperately he needed her. Never in five hundred years had any of his loved ones been able to properly guess at what was going on in his mind.

He had made her feel unwanted. It needed to be rectified immediately. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “The only mistake was trying to kiss you for the first time in a house full of people who could hear us. Because I wouldn’t have been able to stop, Elain. I would have gotten on my knees in front of you until you were screaming my name loud enough for your mate to hear.”

Azriel’s gaze dripped down Elain’s body. His nostrils flared as he watched her nipples peak through her nightgown. He hardened immediately, and pressed himself between her legs, shucking the flimsy material up her thighs. She gasped, and a flush spread over her skin as she bucked in response, her hands searching for purchase on the wall behind her. Those thin straps keeping her dress up could easily be snapped between his fingers. He ran his nose along her neck, letting his breath travel over her skin. He ground harder into her as he watched goosebumps pebble in the wake of his touch. “Does this feel like I don’t want you, Elain?”

*titters and runs away*

Enjoy, lovelies!

#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel fanfic #spicy elriel fanfic #elriel endgame #pro elriel #pro elain archeron #elain archeron supremacy #azriel x elain

[wwwcapricorncom]

hii could i request something? i don't mind whether it's a headcannon with some drabble or a longer scenario, do whatever you have time for. make sure you're taking care of yourself 🥰

oki so nsfw haikyuu, im very indecisive so I'll give you a list of some characters - feel free to include multiple alsjdggwgw.

tsukishima, kageyama, miya twins, kuroo, bokuto, yknow throw in hinata for some spice. basically anyone that would rUiN me 😗✌️

okay so for the scenario literally go wild with it, I'd love to have a few kinks involved like dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation and masochism (or sadism if you look at it from the characters side).

feel free to improv if there's anything specific you've been wanting to write lmao I'm happy with anything.

have fun hehe

Eep! You’re so sweet I could cry T^T. You’re my first ask btw so Thank you thank you! Anyone who enjoys this post, please thank anon! This will also be my first work for haikyuu so I hope it will be good! In addition, i'll write the reader as Fem for now bc it wasn’t specified, so I hope that’s okay<3. I was gonna include all characters, but I felt I kept you waiting long enough.

Okay so im thinking…. How they act when domming WITH BOKUTO, ATSUMU, OSAMU, TSUKI, AND HINATA.

Genre: SMUT/MINORS DNI/ 18+/ Characters aged up

Warnings: dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation, masochism & sadism, a wee bit of impact play in Osamu’s... it just happened, gagging, nose pinching, praising, oral (fem and male receiving), dom dynamics, use of the word “daddy.

                                                      BOKUTO

Bo is a wild card, so anything can activate his dom moods and they can vary from service to hard domming.

You have to watch out for those days when you do something that he finds so cute because that’s when he wants to be a service dom.

And that means fucking you completly dumb.

“C’mere puppy”, just wants to show you how much he appreciates and adores you, so he has to make you feel so good that you turn into mush.

Always fucks you in a position that relies solely on you having to rely on him because it’s such a power trip for him.

Will have you picked up and getting fucked against the wall of your room as he tells you how cute you are.

Seeing you like this triggers something so animalistic in him, he is suddenly so hyper focused as he fucks you like an animal.

LOUDDDD

Just wants to see how wrecked you’ll get for him, but wrecks himself too.

~

“C’mere puppy, gonna pick you up.” You're a mess already, having been getting fucked into on your back by your boyfriend. Still, you put your hands out so he can pull you into his broad chest and up you two go. He smiles at your compliance and goes in to kiss your cute lips, albeit deeply as he sucks on your tongue and bottom lip which makes saliva string you two together when pulling away.

By the time he is done kissing you, he has your bare back pressed against the cool surface of your room walls and is nudging the head of his big, fat cock back into your needy hole. “Ah! Bo, fuck! like this?”

You can’t help but ask while clinging to him for dear life as he bottoms out in you. All he can do is nod, one hand strongly wrapped around your lower back, close to your ass, and the other flat against the wall above your head. He loves the way you cling to him, much like how your soft walls do at the slightest dragging of his cock. In and out. He begins to buck his hips up into you and you bounce at the sheer force of each of his thrusts, breast bouncing gloriously in front of him too as he eyes them.

You’re open mouthed panting in no time in rhythm with his thrusts as your eyes gloss over while looking into his golden ones. He searches your face before using force from his legs to start ramming into your spongy spot and you gasp, “fuck daddy wait!”

“Just wanna make you feel good pup, just let me…” He groans as he continues to fuck into your gspot, making you clench around him sporadically as you begin to moan, “i-if you keep thrusting there-

“You’ll cum? Good, cum for me and i'm not gonna stop either.” He states seriously as he picks up his pace, moving the hand he had around you to your hip and gripping it tightly as he enclosed you against the wall more. You had no choice but to take the harsh thrusts that he was giving you, each retraction taking the air from your lungs before the thrust to your spot delivered intoxicating pleasure.

Your fucking head was getting cloudy as you succumbed to the pleasure, sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts at the body heat you two were producing, the mere sight of you sruggling to determine what you should do makes him go feral. Gripping both of your hips, with a bruising glasp, he makes sure the top half of your back is still resting on the wall as he begins to bring you down on his dick while thrusting up.

“You look so fucking sexy like this! Shit, I love having you on my cock!” He is growling now as you moan incoherent sentences, clinging to him closely you decided on just nodding your head. Too fucked out for anything else as he dominated your throbbing core.

He moans loudly at this as he balls slap aggressively against your ass, “already fucked dumb, pup? Fuckkkkk just how I wanted you.” He says as you start to go weak from the pleasure of your orgasm staring to consume you, moving to place your head in between the crook of his neck. He doesn’t let you though, grabs you by the chin and forces your unfocused eyes to stay on him as drool trickles down your skin from your lolled out tongue.

How could he not watch you go dumb on his cock as he fucks your through your orgasm and into his. You two are going to be so sloppy when he’s done.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

                                                           TSUKIII

This fucking Psychopath mean and hard dom.

The most verbal degrader, but also lovesss to humiliate you too.

Just looks at you condescendingly, but is trying to hide his amusement.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart.” is pushing his glasses up with one hand.

Has the other hand buried two fingers deep in your needy cunt.

All you can do is whine because for fucks sake he won’t give you anything, but shallow thrusts. All because

“If you want more then fucking work for it!”

Has you fucking yourself on his fingers in an instant while he snickers and smirks  (still being mean) as if his hard on isn’t threatening to fucking cream his pants.

~

“TSUKIII!” You whine as you grip his wrist that is connected to the fingers inside your dripping cunt.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart” He states with a smirk as he gives you two sharp aimless thrusts into your cunt, making you whine louder.

“P-please just give me more! Stop being so mean!” You say as you look up at his shirtless frame. You know by the look on his face that he is having fun, that he enjoys seeing you so needy and you hate that you’re feeding into it. But it’s so hard, when he has been fingering you to the edge and stopping every time right before you could even release.

“You want more? Then fucking work for it, whore!” He says almost sadistically and you nod as you lift your hips up to meet his fingers. You begin to thrust up into his two nimble, long fingers as you clench around him. Your walls are thankful for the aggressive friction that you are finally getting after 3 near orgasms.

One particular rough thrust hits your g spot and you moan lewdly, tongue almost hanging completely out as you feel the familiar tingles of a strong orgasm. Just as you go to lift your hips up to ram into his fingers in the exact same way, his other hand is pressing you firmly down onto the mattress, halting your attempts.

You fucking choke on a sob as tears obscure your vision and he snickers, “Aw you’re such a crybaby!”

But seeing your flushed face and rising chest as your lip quivers, does it for him. And he’s a little mad at himself because you won and don’t even know it. I mean now he just has to fuck you- you just look so pretty, begging for him after he’s been so fucking mean to you. Crying. Gosh, it makes his dick twitch as precum trickles down to his balls.

Yep, now he’s gonna fuck that needy cunny and give you all that you wanted and then some.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

                                                      ATSUMU

Much like Tsuki, he is also a mean and hard dom, but actually has the ability to turn into a soft one.  

Loves to degrade too but because he loves feeling superior. 

Will be at his meanest when he just lost a match and Def takes it out on that cunt. 

Right after like right after the game, he has you riding him in the fucking car. 

Is being so mean too, “don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut?”

“Ride my fucking dick then!”

Once you amp it up though, fuck his tune switches so fast. “God yer so fuckin’ wet, gonna breed ya just right bc ya think ya can fuck me like this and get away with it?”

Like sir you were just… anyways he will hug you into his chest and mark your flesh up. 

Fills you to the brim while praising and then makes you sit with it leaking into your underwear all the way home 

~

“Come on slut, fully sit on it. I don’t care if it hurts!” Atsumu grumbles as he smacks your ass, making your legs quiver and a few more inches to slip further into your stretching sex.

He’s so big and that asshole barely prepared you before telling you to basically spear yourself on his erect cock. He’s only this mean when he loses and as much as you wish you could say you hate it, you don’t at all.

You love proving him wrong and he always tries to be right, the only difference is he is being meaner right now. That’s why he slams you the rest of the way down on his cock and has your eyes springing open as you arch and shake with a loud cry.

You can’t even express how full you feel or how it feels like he could’ve just broken you, but your pussy can. It’s gushing around him as if you just came, making a mess at his base and his neatly trimmed pubes.

“Don’t ya fuckin’ dare cum yet, don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut!” He growls taking ahold of your neck with his large hand. You whine at this putting your two smaller hands around his forearm and shaking your head ‘no’, mind getting cloudy.

He sits up a bit, sweaty back unsticking from his leather seats as he gets inches from your face, still clenching your neck, grasping tighter even.

“Then. Ride. My. Fucking dick!” He snaps, eyes dark as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. You feel so aroused at this point, grinding your hips into his as your walls scream from the weak prep.

He continues to spew mean shit at you, further stimulating you as you begin to ride him faster. He is slipping soon after, groans tumbling out of his mouth as you bounce on his cock like a rabbit.

Whines sharply when you start to clap your ass down on the dick before hugging you to his sweaty chest. Your hard nipples will drag against his skin as he keeps you embraced, strong arms around your back as he sucks purple marks into your skin. Will begin to fuck up into you as he moans, “ya can’t ride me like that and not expect me t-to fill ya up, pretty!”

Doesn’t care for your response, too lost in his own delirium, as he concentrated on ramming all that fat cock into your hole in attempts to get deeper and deeper. And when he hears you finally cry out about how, “ ‘TSUMU! YOU'RE TOO DEEP!”

He is emptying his balls into you, with an iron grip on your hips to keep you firmly planted on him as he repeats, “gonna fuckin’ bread ya! Bread ya so good… look at that cunt drinking it all up ah!…such a good girl.”

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

                                                     OSAMU

Is the reverse of his brother- Is primarily a soft dom, but knows when to be a hard/ mean one.

Loves caressing you and giving you touches everywhere.

But is really good at commanding, does it calmly with hot lazy eyes. 

“Go a little faster… yea there ya go. Good.” 

“Don’t do that baby, ya wouldn’t want me mad right?”

Sometimes that is what you want thoe and you’re being such a brat that he understands too. 

That’s when he goes Dom, probably having enough of your bullshit.

Like if you’re teasing and disobeying him, per example, when you’re giving him head. 

Without warning will put a firm hand on the back of your head and push you forward roughly. 

Will fuck your face so meanly, scolding you about how, “this is what ya wanted.” 

~

“Come on, go a little faster baby.” Osamu commands and his matter of fact tone, the one he uses when he wants you to do something without protest, sends tingles to your cunt as you flutter your eyes up at him.

Deciding to obey this time, even though you know you want something a little more tonight, you begin sucking on his tip a little faster. He nods his head slowly, relishing the scene before him as he tilts his head back.

He’s really getting into it, baby loves when you suck him off on your knees. It always feels so good and he finds himself in this exact position. Head thrown back, eyes shut, one hand holding your makeshift ponytail, and the other on your cheek.

You love the look in his eyes, lustful and lazily hanging open as his pupils flicked down occasionally to drink in your movements. You were growing needy though, panties getting soaked as you rub your thighs together, sucking faster. His hums of approval indicated that he enjoyed this action as he wets his lips and rakes his fingers further through your hair.

Deviously you decided to take him in further and graze your teeth along his skin, something he loved but did not take kindly. It always made him feel way too good like he would cum way sooner than he would want to, so it pissed him off every time you did it. And you knew that it had worked now too when he let out a surprised hiss as you continued to lightly graze your teeth on his member. His breath is shaky as he lets go of the ponytail that he had formed to keep your hair out of your face.

“Fuckin’ mistake” he states seriosuly as his strong hand pushes on the back of your head, lunching you forward and making his cock fully slot itself in your throat. It hurt, it burned, and you were soaking yourself because of the pain. You loved when your daddy turned into such a meanie.

“Can never use yer fuckin’ words huh? Had to be a damn brat.” He grumbles as he starts to slam into your mouth, making tears trickle down the corners of your eyes as you try to keep up with the brutal pace.

He is groaning by now, the force of his thrusts making the veins pop from his arms and legs as your thighs get wet with arousal, “ya like it that much, nasty girl, huh!” You try to tell him yes, but a quick slap to your cheek makes you moan like an absolute slut. It was not enough to hurt, just sting and utterly surprise you, but it was more than enough for you, “don’t fuckin talk when I'm blessing ya with a full mouth.”

His tone is still as calm as ever which makes your pussy throb even more as you nod rapidly, desperately, doe eyes looking up at him as he smirks slightly before continuing to stretch your throat with brutal snaps of his hips. When he begins to cum, he makes sure to thrust fully into you, on his tippy toes, as he firmly plants one hand on the back of your head while using the other to pinch your nose closed.

You cum untouched, choking on his seed and gasping for air as tears stream down your face. But all he says is “ya wanted this and ya liked it, my little masochist.” Osamu has no problem being a sadist for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

                                                HINATA

SERVICE DOM !!!

Such a precious baby (reminds me of Izuku) loves to eat you out, but because he really wants you to feel immense pleasure.

Is so attentive, sucks on your breasts, licks your inner thighs, places kisses on your ankles and legs before diving in.

Holds your hand while using the other to spread you apart.

“You taste so good baby.”

Is the type to shake his head from side to side while eating that pussy.

Will overstim you on accident at first, but realizes he loves how easy it is to reel orgasms out of you when you’re sensitive.

“Cum again for me please?”

Oral with him almost always leads to over stimming… both ways.

~

“Another kiss here… and here….here.” Hinata mumbles against your skin as you arch into the touch of his soft, wet lips. He started at your own lips, made his way down to sucking your neck and breasts, paying special care to your nipples. Sucks and nibbles on them for so long that you're wet and the buds are throbbing and sore.

He will then move down, dragging his tongue down your stomach, kissing your belly button, licking at your thighs before grabbing them. He spreads you open, groaning at how your cunt is seeping with arousal as he stands up, your legs on his shoulders while he admires you.

Will kiss your ankles as he rubs his underwear covered cock along your slit, collecting your slick and dampening the fabric. When he can no longer kiss your flesh or produce light touches here and there, too needy, he dives in and kisses your pussy.

“Sho!” You gasp as your hands fly to his hair, weaving into the orange tuffs as he licks a long flat tongue up your entire cunt. He’ll sigh against your puffy clit after this, amazed that he gets to taste you whenever he wants, and this starts the feast.

He starts to suck and nip at your folds, cute nose bumping against your clit which makes you squeal each time, “you taste so good baby.” He groans again as he reaches to hold your hand that abandoned his hair in favor of gripping the sheets. Your heart swells at the cute action as you grasp his warm hand back and he reallys starts to get lost in your soaking cunt.

So engrossed in tongue fuckng you while rubbing your clit with his thumb, he doesn’t register your slight warnings of, “S-sho you’re going too f-fast!” Because you weren't used to being touched and cared for so attentively, him being the first to do you like this, and your orgasm was approaching so fast it was shocking you.

Precum is rushing out of his cock when you start cumming on his tongue, but he doesn’t stop there. He starts to shake his head between your legs from side to side, further stimulating you and getting sloppier, as he gulps and slurps and continues to eat you out.

“TOO SENSITIVE!” You yell as you start squirming away, but his hold on your hand just gets tighter as he flicks his eyes up to you, “cum again for me please? I know my beautiful girl can…” He says, hot breath fanning your quivering cunt as his dark eyes look up at you. You whine at his words, but accept and he's back to over-stimulating you, using his tongue to weave through your folds and into your hole, rubbing your clit harder.

You gush so much for him by the end of the night. And he hasn’t even fucked you with that monster stamina yet.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #bokuto smut #tsukishima smut #atsumu smut #osamu smut #hinata smut #haikyuu headcanons #reader insert #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu asks #haikyuu drabbles #www.capricorn.com

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twenty - “collateral damage”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n deal with the emotional fallout of her departure from wakanda.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: mildly suggestive content, nothing explicit, 18+ readers please.

The flight home was wretched. Sleeping on the jet was impossible. Every time she shut her eyes she saw his face. If her mind did somehow manage to drift off to sleep, Y/N dreamed of him and woke up trying not to rip her hair out.

"We can still stay in contact, right?" Bucky asked as they were walking back from the waterfall.

They had left their catharsis by the water, still upset, but now calmer and more logical.

"I don't think so..."

"What? Why? It's not like we don't have the technology to do it."

"I know, but.." Y/N trailed off, trying to think of a sensible excuse.

Obviously they could stay in contact if they wanted. But any kind of phone call would be able to be tracked or recorded. That, and she didn't want him to hang on to someone who betrayed him. She couldn't imagine the guilt she'd have hearing Bucky's "I miss you's" or "Baby doll's" from miles away, knowing she lied to him.

"You don't even have a phone..."

"That's an easy problem to fix."

"I know... I just think you should focus on the rest of your healing, and... you know, I'll have a lot of work once I get back...." she took a breath. "I don't know if it's super healthy for us to cling on to each other when it... may be better to move on..."

"Move on?"

"Yeah..."

Bucky stopped walking and turned to face her. They both stood still and he stared at her, confused, as if he was trying to figure something out. He knew her well. She was scared he'd see right through her.

"So let me get this straight. When you're here we can talk all the time and... plenty of other things. But when you're away we can't even call each other?"

"Bucky..."

"That's not all, is it?"

She sighed. "I'm just... worried... about- like-... getting in trouble. If someone overhears or tracks a phone call...What if someone finds out where the 'Winter Soldier' is and comes here to exact revenge?"

That was partly true. She'd never want anyone bad to find out where he was. But no one was tracking her phone calls; she wasn't really a person of interest. In all likelihood, it probably wasn't something she'd have to be terribly worried about.

However, if anyone overheard or saw Bucky on the phone, they'd know it was her, and she doubted anything she could say would convince them that she didn't tell him about the arm.

Or maybe no one would find out. She just didn't want to take the chance. The last time she took a chance, this happened. She wasn't willing to do it again.

He stared at her with dejected eyes. "You know you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

She rested her hands on his forearms and laughed sadly. "Bucky, I don't think I'm ever not gonna worry about you."

He was already in her heart. She didn't think he could leave now.

He let his eyelids fall shut. "I really don't want you to go."

She closed her eyes as well and let her forehead rest against the top of his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you either. But you're gonna do so well, even without me. And every day I'll wake up and think 'wow this man is sexy and has good coping mechanisms! I wish I was him!'"

In the midst of his sadness, she made him laugh. It was a despondent, quiet laugh, but she managed to lift his mood all the same - even if just a little bit. She'd always make everything better.

He gazed down at her, eyes heavy, and without even thinking about it... "I love you."

She looked down at the grass below her feet. "Buck..."

"I do. I'm sorry but I do."

She wrapped her arms around the middle of his back, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in tight, one arm up her back and the other cradling her head.

In the tiniest whisper, she let the truth flow out from her chest. "I love you, too."

The clouds provoked her, so peaceful and quiet, while her head was a big, loud mess. Y/N leaned her head on the window, glaring at them and wondering if she should've said what she did. That she loved him. Internally, she debated whether or not it would make things worse. But she wasn't going to see him again; she might as well have left him with the truth.

Time was lost to her. She thought she would be landing soon, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

-

Bucky sat at the lake - their lake - and just stared into the water. It felt so strange to him, that she was gone. One minute she was here and now he was just... alone.

It was so quiet. Too quiet. Of course being alone was quiet, but after Y/N left, the air just felt empty.

He wished he could talk to her. Whenever he was upset, all he wanted to do was talk to her.

"So, is this... d-do we say goodbye now?" he asked when they got back to his hut.

"Yeah..." she sighed. "yeah."

"Are you going back to Europe?"

"Yes. Belgium. Haven't been in my apartment in forever."

"Belgium," he wondered. "It's nice there. Safe. What are you gonna do for work?"

"Probably just continue where I left off on my research. Fancy brain stuff, ya'know?"

He grinned, proud. "My smart girl."

She looked around her, as if watching for something. Or someone.

"Buck, I think I have to go now."

"Just one more minute? Please. I wanna remember you like this. Not sad and crying."

Y/N smiled, grabbed his hands, and kissed his knuckles. Both flesh and metal. Because they were both part of him and she loved him. All of him.

Then, she placed both his hands on either side of her face. Softly she said, "remember me like this," before bringing their lips together.

He looked down at his vibranium arm, twisting his wrist to watch how the plates whirred.

Since the first moment he put it on, he had been using it to be gentle, loving, and affectionate. This arm was good. This arm wasn't used for death and destruction and violence.

With this arm he held her, kissed her, loved her. And now she was gone. And now it felt like dead weight.

— ONE WEEK LATER —

Whenever Bucky looked at his bionic arm he saw her. It began to make him sad.

His hair had been getting longer and longer. He could cut it now, now that he had two arms. But every time he tried, all he could do was stare at the arm and hear her voice in his head.

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

That was the first time he expressed real distress about missing a limb, he recalled. That was the first time they kissed. Funny how that transition was made, funny how she could remedy some of his worst emotions.

His days were boring and uneventful and nearly silent. He sat alone a lot. There was no laughter anymore, none of her laughter. There was no more holding, no more kissing, no more loving. The arm just felt... wrong? Like what it was born from had died.

-

In Belgium, Y/N felt incredibly uncomfortable. She knew she just needed to adjust to the change, after getting to used to life in Wakanda - life with Bucky. Her vacant apartment didn't feel as homey.

It had been, what, a year and a half? About a year and a half since she had been home. About a year and a half spent with Bucky.

Her apartment seemed so... barren. Void of life. And cold. She was used to the Wakandan heat. When she closed and locked the door behind her, she looked at the golden square that the sun cast through her window. It reminded her of that heat.

Y/N sighed, cursing her very own hippocampus for providing her with memory.

"God, I wish you had an AC in here."

She was in his bed. Well, she was on top of him, straddling him, in his bed.

"Is it hot or is it just you?" he joked, poking at her sides and trying to not pout at the loss of her lips.

"Ha. Ha," she rolled her eyes and brought her face back to his.

"Wait," Bucky said and gently pulled her face away to examine it. "You are a little warm."

"It's okay," she quickly tried to resume their previous activity.

"Hold on-" he got cut off as Y/N kept pecking his lips over and over.

"I have-"

Kiss.

"An idea-"

Kiss.

Lightly he pushed her shoulders away, nearly giggling. "Stop it! Just wait a second!"

Bashful, she conceded. "What?"

"Just-" he reached out and put the vibranium hand on her forehead, effectively cooling her down a bit. She closed her eyes and flashed a goofy smile.

"That feels nice."

Then, suddenly, he wrapped both his arms around her back and flipped them over so that he was on top. He smirked.

"Oh yeah, you just wait."

She hung her keys up and took a deep breath, absorbing the emptiness. This was her new normal; she just had to get used to it.

-

"I just- I don't really... I don't think I need it," Bucky tried to explain.

Want it, he thought. I don't want it. I can't stand to even look at it.

"You don't need it?" Shuri asked.

"Yeah, it-uh it takes a bit of getting used to and I think I just need a break. And I wouldn't want to damage it so... figured it's better with you."

He was better at lying than he gave himself credit for.

"Okay," Shuri accepted his answer and began to detach the bionic arm. "But you let me know if it's uncomfortable or painful anywhere so I can adjust it. Alright?"

"Alright. Thank you."

Finally he was rid of it- that cursed metal weighing down on his soul. Maybe now he could focus on other things. Maybe. It didn't seem likely...

However, as the days drew closer, it did make him slightly - only slightly -  less nervous about the trigger word experiment. Now he didn't have a weapon attached to him. Though he reckoned he was the weapon.

No. He wasn't supposed to think like that. He knew Y/N wouldn't want him to. He knew she would say something like, "You aren't what they tried to make you into. You're you and all HYDRA's awfulness can't change the good at your core. My Bucky. You're perfect."

He'd deny to high heavens that he was the farthest thing from perfect. Bucky had no clue how she could say such things. But her conviction never faltered.

Soon enough the day came. The experiment. All he could think about was how she was supposed to be there. He didn't want to do this without her.

But now, he found himself sitting at at a fire on some mountain with one of the Doras. It was dark and it was scary. He was scared.

"It is time," said Ayo.

Nevermind want. He wasn't sure if he could do this without her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I won't let you hurt anyone."

He was still scared. He still didn't trust himself. But, staring into the fire, he thought back to a past conversation.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? ... And I will not let anything happen to you."

Bucky didn't have to trust himself. He just had to trust her. Even if she wasn't here, even if she was on another continent, all he had to do was trust her. When Ayo began reciting the trigger words, that was the one thing thing he held onto. The one thing that kept him afloat.

His trust in her.

delicate taglist: @emmojoy @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree @undiadeestos

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky fic #bucky reader insert #bucky headcanon #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #steve rogers #bucky drabble #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #captain america fanfiction #bucky barnes delicate

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

#bts #happy jk day #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #btswriterscollective #btsguild #kwordsmiths #bangtanarmynet #thebtstown #my writing #fic: wywg

[skylarmoon71]

Nick Jakoby x Reader Oneshot- (Bright)

“Oink, oink over here piggy!” 

The group of men standing in the doorway made you grimace. Damn they pissed you off. Nick walked pass them with his head lowered, trying his best to ignore the rude remarks. You’d just clocked in, and this had become a regular. Their tauntings. You really wanted to body slam all four of them. But you restrained yourself. “Don’t bother with them Nick, their dick heads. “ It was no secret that they hated the male Orc. Nick was by far the sweetest man on the force, and he wasn’t even a man. Which really said something for the unit. 

“I’m used to it, it’s fine.” you frowned. He shouldn’t have to get used to it. He was just as hardworking and diligent as any other cop. You nudged his shoulder with a smile as you walked with him. “Cheer up, in a couple of hours we have that awful dinner to attend. You have worse things ahead." Nick shook his head with a shy smile. “Is that supposed to make me feel better.” 

“Not really.” with a small giggle, you met your partner. Nick headed over to Ward, and your eyes wandered, just admiring him. You had no idea why people gave him such a hard time. It’s true that Orcs sided with the enemy in the past, but that was thousands of years ago. The world had changed so much since then, apparently not in the ways you hoped. 

Nick was so misunderstood and underappreciated. He had so much to offer if he was just given a chance. Not to mention he was a total sweetheart. Pretty handsome too. The final thought erupts a blush to your cheek, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“What’s got you all red in the face?” Jacob, your partner raises an eyebrow, and your face gets darker. “Nothing let’s get going.” he doesn’t quite believe you, and you try to steal one last look at Nick before you have to get going, but Jacob catches the action, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Shit I knew it!!” His yell catches the attention of everyone in a five mile radius and as the officers stare, you feel Nick’s stare follow. You cower, smacking Jacob who just waves everyone off. When their gazes have diverted, you glare at the man before you. He raises his hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to cause a scene. Not everyday you discover your partner has a crush. Damn Victoria owes me twenty bucks!” 

“Y-You betted on my love life with your wife!!” 

“Umm, hell yeah I did. Why are you even surprised?” he was right, you shouldn’t have been. You just roll your eyes, and soon the both of you are headed to the squad car. Jacob is still wearing that smug grin as you jump into the vehicle. “So when are you gonna ask him out?” 

“I-I’m not!” 

“You’re kidding, you have to (Y/N)!” Jacob has always been majorly supportive, but you’re still a little anxious. Your head lowers. “Y-You don’t think it’s weird that I..I mean I don’t  care if anyone says anything but I just..I..” The way you're struggling with your words, it’s not hard for Jacob to understand. “Listen, I’d never judge you for something like that. We’re partners (Y/N), practically family now. And honestly Nick is awesome, dude brings me scones every Tuesday cause he passes at my favorite shop on his way to work. He’s a hero in my book.” He lets out a few fake sobs to get his point across and you just groan at his childishness.

“Seriously though, Nick’s a really good guy. Everyone treats him like shit, yet he comes back and tells them to be safe. If it were me, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it that well. He could easily quit, probably just become the monster everyone keeps accusing him of being. But he wakes up and he does the job, all because he loves it, he generally cares about protecting people who don’t give a shit about him. It’s inspiring to watch. There aren’t many people like left in this world (Y/N), if you find someone like that, you should do what you can to hold onto them.” His finger ran over his wedding band, a smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I did.” His smile makes your face brighten, and you nod. 

“I’ll do my best. “ 

So maybe your partner wasn’t a complete idiot. 

That afternoon when you get home, you’re on a mission. Jacob’s advice is ringing in your head. He’s right. So you’ve decided this annual police will be your best yet. You were gonna go all out. You rarely ever get dressed up, too accustomed to dark suit pants and uncomfortable belts. You wanted something to catch Nick’s attention, then maybe it would give you the confidence to finally own up to your feelings and ask the guy out. You jump into the shower. 

“Time to knock them dead. “ 

~Three hours later~

“Quit fidgeting, you look fine.” Ward smacks Nick’s hands away from the tie. He’s been messing with it for the last ten minutes, mostly out of nervousness. This is his first time he’s worn a tux. He feels a bit ridiculous, but with Ward’s assurance, he can only hope he’s pulling it off. They stand at a table making small talk, mostly Ward. 

Nick offers a word here and there. By the looks he keeps getting, he can tell that his opinion isn’t really wanted by the people there. So he busies himself with watching the other people mingling around him. Everyone looks relaxed, sipping wine, helpling themselves to food. He’s never been a fan of this. Every year they hold these little banquets to treat the new recruits and commend exemplary performances throughout the unit. It’s a fun event for the most part. But his fellow coworkers never rest with their harsh opinions. It isn’t even verbal, just by the looks he knows. 

The sound of a few whistles catches his attention. There’s a small commotion at the doorway. He vaguely makes out the edge of purple, and that’s when he notices the man that walks in. But that isn’t what captures his eyes, it’s the woman he’s escorting on his arm. 

Golden orbs widen, and his ears twitch a bit too quickly. He wants to control it, but it’s hard, because the smile that lands in his direction knocks the wind right out of him. “Wow, your girlfriend cleans up nice.” Ward whispers. 

“S-She’s not my girlfriend.” he grumbles back. Now that you’re clear in his view, he can fully admire your dress. It’s a velvet luxe maxi dress. The color is a beautiful lavender. Thin straps at the shoulder, low cut displaying just enough cleavage. And a slit that stops mid thigh, with matching heels to complete the whole look. Your hair is loose, and a very light amount of makeup, highlighting your features. Nick thought you were gorgeous before, but somehow you’ve outdone yourself. He can’t look away, and he really should before you take notice.You settle at a table not too far from him, pulling the focus of a few males present there. With polite smiles and little words, Nick feels a bit envious. 

“Now’s your chance hotshot. Ask her out before one of those hyenas beat you to it.” Nick wants to convince Ward that it’s useless, there’s no way you’d go for someone like him. You’re completely different in every sense of the word. He doesn’t have a chance. As he opens his mouth he’s about to lay out his case, but a sweet lavender scent fills his nostrils, and he wants to question the origin, just then he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns, and the heavenly aroma hits him tenfold. Somehow you’ve walked over without him realizing. He’s supposed to be more aware, he’s a cop after all. Your glossed lips turn into a smile as you bat your eyes. 

“Nick..do you wanna maybe dance?” 

The slow sound filling the room, doubled with the couples now filling up the floor catches his eyes. He’s tongue tied, because you can’t really be asking him. Out of all the guys there, why him? Yes, the both of you have been friends for months now, but he’s sort of assumed your kindness was due to pity more than anything else. 

You're still watching him hopefully, and Ward gives an encouraging push. He stumbles, grabbing your shoulders lightly. When he’s steadied himself, he pulls back. “He’d love to.” Ward says. Nick doesn’t get a chance to put in a word for himself, because you smile, taking his hand and pulling him to the center of the dance floor. Nick is staggering behind, trying not to knock into anyone. When you get to your desired area, you turn back to him. Nick is stiff, the both of you are just standing there, a number of eyes on you. “I-I should probably just go, everyone is staring and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable.” His eyes lift, and the way you look at him, it makes his heart hammer. What has he done to deserve your kindness, he has no idea. 

Deciding that you need to be the one to make a move, you take his hands and place them around your waist as you step closer. You can feel the slight tremble in his palms that are pressed to your body now. It’s so adorable. He’s still stiff as a board, but you know he’s trying. He’s probably so touch starved. It hurts to just think about it. Your hands are resting on his chest lightly, and you sigh, swaying with the music. Nick swallows, he’s a bit taller than you, and he’s trying his best not to look down directly at you. With you so close it’s hard for him not to pass out at how amazing you smell. Your hands slide up, going around his neck. His eyes finally meet yours, and the meaning in your eyes, it triggers something in him. “Nick..” you’re whispering, and it breaks his train of thought. “Yeah.” you lick your lips, and he wishes he could just kiss those plump lips. They are begging to be touched.  

“Do you possibly want to-” a hand pulling you from the Orc in your arms makes you jerk. Nick looks just as surprised. The officer standing between the both of you, suddenly it makes sense, and you're pissed. “Run along pig face, she’s tired of you.” Pollard rests a hand on your waist, pulling you into his side, and you shove him back. “You’re the one who’s interrupting, what the hell we were dancing!!” you're enraged. Not only has he messed up your plan to finally ask Nick out, but he’s also insulted him. Nick can see the displeasure on your face, and he’s about to suggest that maybe you leave. The last thing he wants is for you to get caught in the middle of this. He could take Pollard’s insults any day. But he doesn’t want any negative attention drawn to you. 

“Come on you don’t have to give anymore charity, we all know why you do this. You feel bad for little piggy here. Don’t waste your evening on him, how about you come with me. Have some real fun.” It’s almost laughable that he thinks you’ll drop everything and just run off with him. Nick now looks less sure of himself, a bit defeated. It’s then you realize that he must have assumed the same. You’re being nice out of some foolish obligation. You open your mouth to assure him, but stop. This time, words may not be enough. It’s time to take action. So with two swift strides you grab Nick by the lapels of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. Pollard gapes, and Nick is tense and wide eyed. 

“I’m dreaming…” He has to be. You couldn’t be..kissing him. Your eyes are closed, and you still have a firm hold on his clothing. A few more seconds pass and you pull back slowly. Your eyes move from Nick’s soft lips, to his topaz eyes. The bewildered expression is highly anticipated. 

“If you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” you take Nick’s hand, leaving a stunned Pollard, and a few surprised officers. You don’t even look back, you do however pass Jacob on your way out of the building. He’s grinning probably wider than you. When the door snaps shut behind you and you're free of the intrusive stares, you look at Nick. He’s still in a mid state of shock. “I’m sorry..” you mutter. 

Now that the events play back, you’re bashful. You didn’t even get to ask him out. Nick collects himself slowly, shaking his head. “N-No it’s fine.” An awkward silence follows. You want to say something to cut the tension, but Nick interrupts. “I should take you home.” He doesn't look at you when he says that, and now you're a bit scared that you’ve crossed a line and misread all the signs. Self conscious and mortified, you just nod. Nick’s car is parked close, as he opens the door, you jump inside. He does the same, pulling off. 

The ride is anything but pleasant. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Nick is staring ahead, and the look he wears is unreadable. 

“I ruined everything.” You should have never done that, especially since you weren’t even sure of any feelings. He must be completely disgusted with you. You're thankful that the ride isn’t long, because in a few minutes he pulls up. You don’t make any kind of eye contact, just whisper a thanks, opening the door and stepping out. 

You want to cry, how did the night turn so horrible that quickly. As you close the vehicle door, you all but sprint to your house, taking out your keys and opening your front door. You don’t even bid him goodbye, you just focus on getting inside. You do, stepping in and leaning back as you shut the door. “Idiot!” you scold yourself. “I’m an idiot..” you bite your lip. How would you ever face him again. 

The knock at your door makes you jump, and you turn, opening the door hesitantly. You peek outside, a bit surprised. “N-Nick..” He’s staring at you, maybe wanting answers for all that happened. You step back, letting him inside. He’s the one that closes the door this time. 

“Why did you kiss me?” Blunt, to the point. From the look, you know he’s just as conflicted by all of this as you. Now might be your last chance. You’ve already kissed him, what was the harm in telling him the truth. It might help you both.

“Because I..It’s what I’ve wanted to do for months now. “ you confess. His forehead creases in astonishment. “Nick I’ve..I’ve had it bad for you for so long and it makes my blood boil every time I hear the way they talk to you! You’re so caring and selfless and goddamn hot to me and I wish everyone could see how amazing you are if they’d just give you an opportunity.” you’re rambling, but you don’t care. “That jackass Pollard ruined everything I had this whole night planned out, I was gonna wow you with this dress and then finally ask you out but then he came with his false macho bullshit and it just pissed me off and that’s why I grabbed you like that to show him that this isn’t some charity I actually am crazy about you and I..” you heave, for a minute there you forgot you should breathe. “I’m so crazy about you Nick.” 

He’s still just standing there, and now you’ve given him a chance to speak. From his expression, he doesn’t know what to say. You were so out of his league. 

“I don’t understand why you would..why..” that self conscious  look, you’ve seen it many times. 

“Nick, I want you.” he stops, eyes opening a bit wider now. “I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.  “ you take a step forward, and he doesn’t move a muscle. “Truthfully, when I saw you earlier in this tux, I almost passed out. “ your hands reach out, going back to where they had been before Pollard stepped in. Resting right on his broad shoulders. Another thing about him that made you swoon was his build. He was nicely muscular. It just messed you up. He needs a moment to gather his breath. “Nick do you..want me?” 

“Of course!” his shout, as unexpected as it is, it makes you smile. He looks away at how desperate it sounded. “That’s good..” you don’t clarify, just lean in, and this time when your lips meet, he still doesn’t really prepare. It’s so tender, almost tentative. When he finally convinces his mind that it’s real, his hands wrap around your body, pulling you in. You sigh, and Nick responds, returning the kiss. Your head is in the clouds, You feel like you’re dreaming, if that’s the case you want to stay forever. You open your mouth, urging him to do the same, he does, taking control. 

You moan when he pushes you up against the door, now kissing you hungrily. One of his hands drift down to your bare thigh, and another needy sound releases. You can’t stop it and you don’t want to. His free hand presses to the door, and your hands grip at the clothes on his back. You’re trying to pull him forward, and he complies, pressing into you. It feels so great, his firm body trapping you there. There’s a low growl that comes from Nick, and somehow you’re even more turned on. Your hands have ventured back to the front of his tux, unbuttoning it quickly. It falls open and your fingers slip under the jacket, reveling in the taunt muscles. 

Gosh does he feel amazing. Nick feels you start to pull at the shirt, he forces himself to part. When you’ve separated, you’re both flushed and panting. Nick still believes maybe he’s at home sleeping somehow. The new scent that fills the air nearly makes his knees buckle. Your lust is so prominent, he can almost taste it. Your chest is still heaving, but you're slowly coming down from your high, so is Nick. It’s then you realize what was about to happen if not for Nick’s pause. You feel a bit embarrassed now. You hug yourself, blushing a deep red. 

“S-Sorry, guess I kind of got a bit crazy..” Nick smiles. “You don’t have to apologize.” He’d be stupid to make you feel bad about such a thing. He was just as equally responsible. Fact is, it took everything in him to stop himself. As much as he wants this to progress, he also wants more than just a heated night with you. He wants so much more. 

“(Y/N), I’d..really like to take you out sometime..” he mumbles it, still fairly insecure about it all. The way your eyes light up though, his fears are all gone. You don’t respond, and he doesn’t need one because you jump into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek, grinning like a child on Christmas.

“You don’t even have to ask, it’s a yes.” you  whisper in his ear. He holds you close, breathing in your scent. He wants to lock that away forever. He wants this to last forever. For now though, just being with you now, it’s enough.

#nick jakoby #bright #ward #love #orcs #fairies #elves #magic #acceptance #friends to lovers #insecure #cops #LAPD #parties #confessions #nick jakoby x reader #friendship #dorks in love

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 16

Distractions and Sex

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: bucky helps distract you after the whole Steve shot happens

Warnings: swearing, smut, so much fucking smut, slight dirty talk, slight degradation, knife play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, bucky being super soft, lots of fluff

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It had been nearly an hour since y/n had left in search of Steve, and there still was no sign of her. Bucky began to worry, chewing his already short fingernail as he became more and more scared. Now, weather it was the thought of y/n getting hurt that scared him or one of her in Steve's bed, he didn't know.

The super soldier was just pushing up from where he'd perched himself on her surprisingly luxurious bed when the door creaked open, the shock of it giving Bucky a little start as he flinched slightly. Y/n stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes red-rimmed and looking almost dead - so dry from crying for so long it looked almost uncomfortable, which of course it was. She held a near empty whiskey bottle in her hand, which almost fully explained her state.

Bucky stood from the bed abruptly, taking the few strides that it took to close the gap between them as y/n kicked the door closed with her foot.

"You didn't find Steve?" He asked worriedly, hands coming up to cup her face. Y/n scoffed, letting out a slurred, humourless laugh.

"Oh I found him alright." She crocked.

"And? Should I go speak to him?" Buck urged, desperately trying to meet y/n's eyes but she adverted her gaze to some plotted succulents that occupied her bedside table.

"That's probably not the best idea. At all." She deadpanned, moving out of Bucky's grip before flopping onto the bed and blowing out a big sigh.

When Bucky looked at her, he couldn't help but feel like she looked like a fallen angel. Her hair fanned around her face like a halo, the glaring light from the room creating shining highlights over her skin, her lips pouted almost sinfully; and yet her dress was skew-whiff and her mascara ran down her cheeks, the reddened look to her eyes almost devilish.

Y/n brought the whiskey bottle up high enough to unscrew the cap, tilting her head up enough so she could take another swig of the golden liquid. But she was predictable, the drink's effects slowing down her movements and before her lips met the rim of the bottle Bucky was swiping it from her hands, letting it settle on the little table next to her bed.

"I think you've had quite enough of that." Bucky scolded, a frown morphing his once-soft features. Y/n blew out a frustrated sigh, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest like a little girl throwing a tantrum.

"And I think you should stop telling me what to do." She bit back, her snarky attitude telling Bucky everything he needed to know about why people avoided the Stark's when they were drunk.

"C'mon, doll. Why don't we just get you into some more comfort clothes and into bed?" Bucky suggested, y/n standing up to become nose-to-nose with him as he spoke. "I'll help with the zip if you like." He offered, gesturing for y/n to turn around. But her attention was elsewhere, eyes glued to his plump pink lips that she was kissing not to long ago. Maybe the distraction would help...

"Doll-" Bucky began but y/n was quick to cut him off.

"Just shut up and kiss me, soldier." Y/n murmured breathily, eyes transfixed on his lips. Bucky threw all logic out the window, like those words were a new string of triggers. His rough hands cupped her face again, y/n letting out a shiver when the metal made contact with her flushed skin, before he was smashing his lips to hers in a desperate kiss.

Bucky walked her backwards until y/n's knees hit the bed, the girl falling into the plush covers. Bucky was quick to crawl over her, coving y/n's body with his own at his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and his hands explored her body like it was the first time. His touch was everywhere, leaving a trail of fire in its wake across her skin.

"Soldier, please." Y/n whines breathily, fisting her hands into his hair as Bucky trailed his kisses over her jaw. He hummed in agreement, beginning to kiss down her body before y/n was using her grip on his hair to yank his head back up. "I'm ready. Just please, get inside me." She begged, a sound that Bucky could listen to for hours if need be.

He nodded quickly, moaning as she fumbled with his belt and jeans zipper before wrapping her slim fingers around his hard cock. He kicked off his jeans and boxers, thrusting onto her hand slightly as he bunched y/n's dress around her waist and slid the thin piece of cloth to the side.

That's when his hand brushed against the silver blade strapped to her upper thigh, hand hand instinctively snapping away. Y/n giggled, a soft sound that was like a melody in the super-soldier's ear.

"I always like to be prepared when I'm in public." She informed him, her laughter gone when she realised that she may have scared him off. But a wide grin split over Bucky's face, his lips hovering over hers once again as he unsheathed the knife from the leather strap.

"Good girl. It seems I taught you well." He mumbled against her lips, giving the girl a quick kiss before pulling back from her and sitting back on his haunches.

He twirled the knife in his hands, smirking at the blade as he flipped it between his fingers until the tip rested at y/n's heart. Her breath hitched momentarily, eyes drifting forwards towards the silver dagger before a smirk of her own spread across her lips.

"Kinky. I always knew you'd be a freak if you were in the right headspace." She smirked, gasping lightly as the soldier flipped the blade again, this time holding it against her hip, under the dress, and hooked it into the waistband of her panties. He brought his lips her her ear, breath hot and foggy.

"And what sane person initiates knife play during sex?" He mumbled, nipping at her earlobe. Y/n giggled again, the endearing sound finding his cock and making it throb as it somehow grew even more.

"I never said that you were sane, soldier." Y/n whispers, enticing a small growl from Bucky as he nipped at her neck. Y/n gasped again, the blade tugging up harshly and snapping the band of her lace panties, the fabric falling from around her as he repeated the same action on the other side.

"Hands and knees. Now." He murmured gruffly in her ear, making y/n clamp her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to conceal her giddy smile, but the excited fling to her eyes gave away ever though the girl was having at that moment.

When she didn't move quick enough, bucky used his metal hand to flip y/n over, tugging her up onto her hands and pulling her ass flush against his hips. He ran his cock through her puffy folds, collecting her wetness and groaning at how much he found just from some kissing and knife-play.

"Fuck. You're soaked." Bucky praised, soothing a hand over her ass before it was cracking against the skin. Y/n yelped, jolting forward onto her forearms as bucky slid home with one deep thrust. "Fuck. Your little pussy just sucks me right in. Suck a fucking slut for me." Bucky grunted, pulling his hips back and snapping them into hers roughly.

Y/n cried out as Bucky tangled a fist in her hair, pulling the girl back against his  best as he thrusted vigorously into her wet heat. His mouth next to her ear, Bucky brough his flesh hand to her neck again, knife still in grasp as the blade pressed slightly against the scar running across her neck.

You'd think it'd trigger something in y/n, make her uncomfortable or flood her with unwelcome emotions. But it did the opposite. To y/n, having one of the men she loved, who she knew to have endured the same trauma as she had at the same hands as her, with her knife pressed to her neck, it somehow made her feel empowered, like they were claiming the pain as their own - no one else's. She moaned loudly, now completely sobbed and completely aware that every time she jolted forward the knife scraped and scratched her skin ever so lightly, nicking the skin in a prickle that caused on or two drop of blood to trickle down her neck and slide over her collar bone.

"S'tight and warm. Fuck, you feel so good." Bucky husked into her ear, the words causing y/n's walls to flyer around his cock, causing both the assassins to moan loudly. "Touch that pretty clit for me baby, make yourself come all over my cock." He rasped, driving into her tight cunt even harder that before, if that was possible.

With a shaky hand, y/n reached down, rubbing small and tight circles against her bundle of nerves as Bucky's cock slammed into her balls-deep. Y/n cried his name as she came, her walls convulsing around Bucky wildly, her own orgasm triggering his.

Bucky grunted and groaned y/n's name as he stilled inside her, ropes of his come painting her slick walls. Her dropped the knife to the bed, placing his hands on her waist as he slowly pulled out of her. Y/n winced slightly as he did so, moaning at the feeling of their come mixed together and dripping down her thighs.

Y/n made to protest as Bucky got up, leaving her panting of the bed. He chuckled, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead before telling not to move and that he'd be back in a moment.

...

I didn't know how long he left the room for, but when Bucky returned he scooped me into his arms and carried me into the bathroom that was connected to me room and set me down on the marble counter, the warm feeling of the hot bath radiating against my skin, the mirror against my back dam with condensation and steam. I shivered slightly at the cold contact of the glass against my exposed skin, my mid elsewhere as I felt the super soldier slip me out of my dress and lift my into the bath after him.

He used a soapy cloth to clean me, rubbing it over my skin in soft circles, gently massaging my aching muscles. He littered my shoulders in kisses, his warm chest pressed to my back and his arms circled around me once he was done cleaning me.

"Did I help?" He pondered, tilting his head slightly although I couldn't see that.

"Hm?" I hummed, still slightly out of it.

"Did I help? Distracting you?" He rephrased and I nodded, cuddling against him further.

"Lots. I haven't really thought about st- that, since I saw you. So thank you." I smiled, and Bucky didn't miss the way I avoided Steve's name.

"I'm happy to help, Doll." He smiled back, pressing a kiss to my hair. We stayed like that for a while, his arms wrapped around me - one warm and one cool - my head against his shoulder and his nose buried in my hair.

After a while of comfortable silence, Bucky helped me out of the tub, where the water was now turning cold and my body was beginning to shiver - despite the warms radiating off him. He wrapped a towel around the both of us, leading me into the bed room and throwing me his t-shirt whilst he pulled on his boxers.

We climbed into bed, my head resting against his chest as I nuzzled into him, completely missing the way his gaze lingered on my face, or the was his hand carded through my hair and his lips pressed to my forehead because sleep had already pulled me under its lulling spell.

“Goodnight.” He whispered against me, finally letting his blue grey eyes fall shut and his mind to rest, falling onto as deep a sleep as me as he slept the best he had since before the war, when him and Steve used to share a little apartment in Brooklyn.

#smut #image #images #chris evans #chris evans smut #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #winter soldier smut #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #captain america smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers image #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky #steve roger fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky Barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #marvel #avengers smut #avengers

[heli0s-writes]

Saga*

Summary: Bucky is in a mood.

A/N: HELLO. Here is the much-awaited bunny saga. How did I get here. Why did you guys do this to me? Thanks everyone who cursed me with this, especially @softbiker​ who put the bath-time idea into my head and had me dry-heaving about it. 🧡

Warnings: Smut! 18+ DomBucky. Rough sex. Mild comeplay. Anal fingering. Over-stimulation. Crying. Possible Dubcon. Please I don’t know. 2.5k words.

It’s nine-thirty and hazy when you get home. Another day spent poring over paperwork and e-mail chains, tracing lines of command to seek the right department head to question and scrutinize. Senators and budgets. Bureaucracy and posturing. Your affixed scowl and bared teeth when you berate men making wrong decisions for half the free world.

Most of the time, your job is fulfilling and fits you perfectly. However, it’s been an entire week of fuck-ups to resolve and you’re overwrought. Sleep-deprived. Pissed-off. Permanently on edge. Thank God the house is quiet, at least.

You break the silence almost guiltily, calling his name. Nearly seventeen hours you’ve been gone—and it’s been like this too long. Now it’s Friday and you texted him near lunchtime you’d have to be in tomorrow, too.

Radio silence ever since. Naturally, you’re anxious.

Down the hallway, Bucky’s voice echoes. “I’m in the bath, sweetheart.”  

Instantaneous relief.

-

The door swings open and buttery vanilla greets you first. Then notes of garden rose cuts through the cream. Moisture hangs heavy in the air. Thick. Warm. You marvel at the view.

He’s leaned back, shoulders and chest exposed above the swirling bubbles, hair tied up with a smile on his pretty lips. His reflective left arm rests on the smooth edge of the porcelain, motioning you forward with shimmering candlelit fingers. Silver bowing to an orange-golden glow.

“Been waiting for you.”

Droplets roll down his neck, gather in the space between his collarbones. It’s heavenly. You slip in the tub and heave a sigh. Oh, he’s good. Always so good at taking the day from you. Always known what you needed.

Since the first time he caught you grilling Tony at the compound, flicking off Steve on your way out in half-jest half-sincerity because their levelling an entire block meant a mess-ton of work on your end and a headache into next year, he’d known. He asked you out, then, as an apology. Something about the mission being his fault. Lemme get you a coffee, please. And you had snapped up yours, Barnes, but met him the next day anyway. Twenty minutes turned into two hours and by the time you were leaving for home, he was coming along with you. One broken bedframe later and you were gone for him.

Exactly what you needed.

“Buck...” You rest your head on his shoulder now, grateful. “Mm... Sorry I haven’t been home much.”

“I know you are.” It’s a mysterious reply, but you’re too worn to raise questions.

Bucky’s breath fans over your shoulder, hotter than the water on your skin. A kiss to your throat. His torso rubs against your back. His legs and arms shift, rearranging himself around you purposefully and it feels like you’re being eased into a trap.

A groan when you discover his game. Exasperated and on edge, reflexive with attitude because you’ve spent all week telling men what to do, you put on that voice you reserve for work: sharp. Commanding. “I have to be up early; I need to sleep.”

Petulance is his reply. Equally decisive. Even sharper.

“I don’t care.”

Under the flickering glow, Bucky sucks the inside of his cheek between his teeth, peers up from behind darkening eyes, and you feel your entire soul tremble.

“Go lie down.” His timbre is steady, indifferent, as if he’s got the entire situation in the center of his palm. He rumbles from deep in his chest, and the trap is revealed. Turning gears and metal mechanisms clatter. Bucky’s finger on the trigger. “Be good, bunny.”

Fuck. You bite down a wince. That pet name. He only uses it when he’s feeling a certain way— dominating, maybe even vengeful. Tired of missing his girl and chasing her shadow. His pupils are blown wide and hounding your every move. Voracious and predatory and you feel very much like his prey now. Defiance flees. You’re barely audible.

“Bucky—“

His tongue flicks over a canine and your stomach leaps into your throat.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

The cage door crashes down. Locks itself shut with you ensnared.

-

Harried thoughts about how to escape his wrath swim through your mind on the bed. You love him. Jesus Christ, do you love him, but you have to get more than three hours tonight. Your eyes are still shut when you feel big hands slide under your calves, behind your knees, lifting you up and right onto his face.

Leisurely licks despite his urgency. Up. Down. The pad of his tongue wet and loving, slicking you up with kisses and spit. His tender affection tucked within impetuous craving. A bruising grip to your hipbones, settling your body, ignoring your pleas when you attempt them.

“Haven’t gotten to touch you in days. You know what that does to me?” Another long, soft suck as you quiver. You can hear his mouth. Smell your own scent threading through the rose and vanilla atmosphere. Sweet and tangy. Alive and keening. Undeniably eager for him. Your pulse feels attached to every effort of his fingertips.

“Gonna have you all night---” Low timbre, curling deep. “—till you’re falling apart for me—” You try to catch your breath. “—shaking the goddamn bed—oh--”

At the first clench of your orgasm, Bucky smiles against your clit, flicking sharp lines as you jerk the tender bud away.

“Stay still.”

His left hand wraps itself around the base of your throat, pressing enough to keep you compliant. The plates shifts and clicks. You break out in a shudder at the sound of it whirring. His other fingers begin their real work, heel of his palm hitting your throbbing clit with every manic shove. Squelching. Smacking. Your desperate whimpers. And then a final loud yelp and you go slack for the second time.

On the comedown, your bones melting into the mattress, you attempt to swat him away, but he’s faster— of course he is— and in a flash he flips you. A crack of his palm and agony shoots up your side like fire.

“I said, stay still.”

You yelp when he does it again, squirming helplessly because he’s barely touching it now— the swollen skin on your ass blistering. He’s dancing on the edges, teasing, lifting— and then—

Another one. You’re stuck in his grasp. Your vision blurs. He leans forward to kiss newly formed tears at the edge of your eye into his devilish mouth. Your spine is electric like a live wire.

Tracing your inflamed wound with his finger-- light touches around the edge of the hurt-- he dips past your flushed cheek with a grin. His tongue is hot when he licks the salt between your teeth. That teardrop he pulled from you, traded from his mouth to yours.

“Cryin’ so pretty, baby.” Bucky praises against your trembling chin, tasting another droplet collecting along your jaw, “You’ll be good now, won’t you?” A weak nod. Captured game spellbound by all his power.

“Get up there with your fucking face in the pillow.”

Metal grasps the back of your neck, tangling your hair, pressing your cheek into the cushion. A slow nudge, he parts your entrance, giving just a tiny bit of him, making you squirm and clench already around his cockhead. Beneath his grip, you pant, nodding, inhaling lungfuls of fresh detergent on the sheets, steeling yourself.

Another mindful lean. He’s so thick. You shimmy desperately, throbbing for more. “Needy fucking girl.” A scrape of his teeth to your shoulder. “Jesus, you got me all slicked up and wet.”

He sinks in-- all the way—easily and so, so deep you swear the air’s been punched clean out of your body. Bucky holds you beneath him, dick pushing deeper and deeper and god how is he doing this.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby—” A grunt. “--maybe too hard, huh?” His breath chases a shudder down your back. “I’ve been wound up—can’t help myself anymore.”

You struggle, shake your head, feel yourself choking up another sob, toes curling until they feel stuck.

“Come on it,” he commands, “Squeeze my cock, sweetheart. Make it filthy with your pussy.”

“Ngh— Buck, you’re gonna—“

A wilted cry tears itself free, smothering itself out on the pillow beneath. You’re still reeling when he picks up his pace, hands gripping your ass, spreading you to admire the sight of him welded inside. You’re trembling-- twitching, overstimulated and overwhelmed—sniffling quietly. You’re shivery and hot, raw and exposed.

He drives in again.

“You ain’t going back to work tomorrow. You’re gonna stay right here— all— fucking—day.” You punctuate his syllables with gagged moans—lilt high like you’re injured, fisting the blankets, tears catching in the pillow.

“Sweet girl,” Bucky croons, wolfish, “Does it feel good?”

He sticks his fingers back in your mouth, thumb under your tongue where spit has collected and drags out a line of it. “Look at you… drooling everywhere, bunny. You’re so fucking messy for my cock.”

Bucky drags his hand down your back, takes his time traveling over the swell of your ass, into the dipping line and prods gently against your tight hole. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Yeah?” A wiggle of his hips, “Tell me you want it.”

Your brain is—not quite working. A little crinkle of static here, a little drone of magnetic humming there, realizing how embarrassed you feel. Submissive and helpless, sloppy and displayed, but you have enough bearing to nod. Get a quiet agreeance out. “Y-yes.”

And it’s enough for him. A lazy kiss to your shoulder, stilling his cock, spreading what’s smeared around your pussy and his base up to your hole, driving in slow and deliberate. The little sense you have flees entirely. You want it so bad, lost to him.

Grinding, grinding, grinding. Deeper and deeper. Dragging all the way out and then back in.

“Too much? Hm? You’re gonna take it, though, aren’t you? Yeah--” He’s harder now. Stiffens up with his own goading, you tensing beneath him, sheen of sweat on your brow and back. “Fuck, I love your pussy. Love your ass. Gonna fill you up at least twice.”

Sometimes the pros of being with an enhanced super soldier is the sex. Sometimes the cons of being with an enhanced super soldier is the sex, too. Twice is a walk in the goddamn park for Bucky. It’s a promise and a threat.

One finger becomes two, hooking slightly, rubbing the back of his knuckle down, feeling the stroke of his cock through your swollen layer of muscle.

“Oh,” you whine, “Bucky—ah—ah.”

It hurts like the way a long morning jog does— aching muscles, worn and overworked, thrumming voltage and adrenaline— and you’re high on it. Clumsy grunts and gasps, blabbering compliance, head spinning. Your vision bursts white. Or black. Or stars—whatever. You’re finished, that’s for sure. Gone for him. Like always.

But not Bucky. Hell, he keeps going, crams another finger inside of you, other arm underneath your belly now, elbow crooked, thighs splayed around your hips, shoving himself in so fucking furiously it rattles the entire room.

The realization dawns that you’re not coming back down. It feels like you’re being torn apart. Skinned and stinging and the most incredible sensation in the whole damn world with him wrapping your entire being around his desire as he fucks into you. You feel claimed. You feel owned. You feel infinite.

“Jesus, baby.” He grunts, “Jesus—fuck—yeah. Fucking good-- all mine.”

Near inarticulate and filthy. He gets this way when he’s close-- tongue-tied as much as Bucky can be, because he’s always got the kind of clever vocabulary that makes your entire body burn without ever having to touch you. So now, when he’s stuffing you full and saying those kinds of things, you don’t stand a chance.

Bucky grips your hair and peels your throat exposed, sucking a mark on the pulse point, and comes so hard he knocks you both into the headboard with the back of his hand cushioning the blow.

His cock is covered when he pulls out, still half-hard and stroking himself, using it like lube. You push your palms over your face, move your knees together but he wedges them apart so wide they smart.

His ruddy cheeks glow beneath the searing blue ring of his eyes, a microscopic corona encircling the darkness of enormous pupils. He holds you frozen with a single look-- ravenous. At least twice floats into your head. Oh, god.

It doesn’t take long the second time, like he’s propelled straight through his first and pitched right into the next. He buries his face into your neck, jerks to a halt with heavy pant, hair splayed over your collar. The sound of it, the smell of it, the feel. His cock, painfully hard. His come, shoved deeper. Your insides, bruised tender and sore, throbbing, stinging, still fluttering for more. Pleasure blurs into pain and back again.

He pinches your nipples hard. Squeezes your jaw, your cheeks. Fucks your mouth with his hand and smears your spit down your sternum.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?” He leans into a thrust, “Tell me.”

Bucky sits you up into his lap, wraps his limbs around you lovingly. The world is hazy and incoherent. You let him do as he pleases, making only choked-up sounds and half-attempted replies.

“Yeah.” Quiet crooning, shushing in your ear, soothing your frantic heart, “I got you. I got you, baby. I got one more for you, alright? And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you? You’re gonna learn your lesson.”

You sob his name with each thrust, chew on your lip distraughtly. You can’t. It’s too fucking much. Stop, you think, please. More, you think, please. Every time you feel thrown off one edge, he takes you to the next one, even higher. He fucks you raw and open and loose and when he finally comes for the last time, you dig half-moons into his arms, curl into the shape of a wounded animal and tremble in pleasure.

-

He cleans himself up. Cleans you too. Soft caresses on the parts of you he marked up, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, imprinted with the creases from the pillowcase. Bucky lays you down slowly, brushes the damp hair from your jaw, settles in next to you with sweet kisses and mindful aftercare.

God, he’s good. Always known what you’ve needed even before you realize it for yourself. Your man.

Wrapping you up his arms when you need warmth. Giving you space when you’re feeling restless. Loving you slow when you’re withdrawn. Loving you hard when you’re aching.

And oh, you ache.

Your body sinks into the sheets. Every synapse shutting down, feeling a rest so deep every cell hums.

“What’re you gonna do tomorrow, bunny?” Gentle prodding, just a little sharp. Hypothetical, of course because he already knows your answer. Already knows you belong to him for the rest of the weekend.

Bucky tugs up the comforter around your shoulders, slotting himself behind your body, enfolding both of you safely. Your lids flutter shut. All the stars in the sky pitch themselves out. The night closes black and endless, eats your mind until you’re lost to sleep.

He pulls you tight to him. Possessive. Caged in. One final scrape of his teeth over the back of your neck like a warning before he muffles a satisfied moan into your hair.

You’re trapped. You’re caught. It’s heaven.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #smut #fanfiction #reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bunny saga

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

✿D.K.- trying, and succeeding?✶☼⚠︎

Master list 

Words: 1760

Warnings/kinks: fluffy smut, POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING {mentions of puking, mentions of being disgusted about yourself etc. Nothing super intense}

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x FEM!reader

Summary: Denki finally figures out you have an eating disorder

(I wasn't sure to write this as if y/n was underweight or not, so I opted for a neutral, average, build)

Just to preface, I do not have an eating disorder, so some details might be skewed. Please, please, please make sure you're in the right mindset to read this fic, I would hate it if someone got triggered by this :(

**posted on mobile, sorry for the format**

=== NSFW AND POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING UNDER CUT ===

It had only taken Denki what, four months, to become suspicious of your eating/puking habit. He wasn't the smartest fella, nor a very self-conscious one either, but after he found your 'calories diary', a book where you wrote down what not to eat, his brain finally slotted the pieces together. His immediate thought was 'why? You’re so beautiful?' and 'why would you do that to your body?'. But after some research, he had a loose understanding of what you had. He was now hyper aware of when you were refusing to eat, and how you were doing it.

"Oh, I ate an hour ago, I'm fine."

"I just have a stomach ache is all."

"I'm feeling sick. I have to go use the bathroom."

Denki was determined to 'make your sickness go away', but he really struggled trying to help you. He tried locking the bathrooms to prevent you from going in, (he failed to realize that you could puke outside, or in a bowl), he tried making you something himself (thinking that you couldn't refuse to eat something that he made. Turns out he was the one that puked that day). He even set alarms on your phone for every few hours telling you 'don't forget to have a snack :)'. Truly, he really was trying to help. Keyword; trying. He was probably better off just calling a doctor or something for you, (which you would've hated).

Denki finally decided to confront you, pulling out your diary as proof. You yelled at him about your privacy, but you softened your stance when he told you that he was concerned about your health, which was a lot coming from Denki.

"I just want you to be happy in your own skin," Denki pouted, a hand on your knee as he sat with you. His eyes glittered with concern, trying his best to not just shake you and yell 'BEGONETH, POISONOUS THINKING! THOU DOTH BAD!'

"I want to be, too," your lip quivered, holding back tears.

"Can I hug you?" Denki pleaded, pouting his lip. You gave him a stout nod, and he wrapped his arms around you. You turned and sat on Denki's lap, hugging him back.

"I can't describe to you how beautiful you are, y/n," Denki murmured. "I'll admit that I'm not the greatest at comforting, but I'll try my best for you."

The two of you sat there for awhile, tangled in an embrace, tears wetting his shoulder. He soothed his hand over your shaking back, trying to calm you. He didn't know what to do, currently. You had never sat on his lap and cried.

"Thank you for trying, Denki," you sniffled, curling your fingers through his hair. "I just feel so disgusted whenever I see myself in the mirror, or in pictures. I hate how I look, and I constantly feel like you're only dating me because you're desperate."

"Fist of all, you aren't disgusting, I love how you look," Denki began, "Second of all, hey, I wasn't that desperate. I actually had a crush on you all throughout middle school, and I was scared shittless asking you out. You're so beautiful."

"Thank you, Buzzy," you sobbed, hugging him harder. "It's just so hard to believe when I have this body."

"Y'know you're not just a body, right?" Denki pulled back, looking you in the eye. "I would never date someone just for their body, despite what everyone thinks. But I have to admit-- Damn, you are one smokin' woman, baby."

A shy smile fitted your face, and you wiped away your tears, "I just want to be happy with myself and how I look."

You sat and cuddled for a bit longer on the bed, Denki whispering praise into your ear. He felt so content with you in his arms, feeling comforted from him.

"...Denki," you said firmly, turning to face him. "Way to ruin the mood."

He looked down to where you were staring, and blushed deeply. Oops, "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!"

"It's alright, Denki," You giggled, "I get it, I'm just so smokin'"

You attempted to flip your hair while laying down, and winked at the golden haired boy next to you.

"You are," Denki protested, trying to hide his face in a pillow.

"I'll try," you sighed, turning to stroke Denki's hair. "I'll try and be healthy to my body. But god, is it hard."

"D'y'know what else is hard?" Denki said smugly, grinning dumbly.

"Denki! I swear, we can never cuddle without you getting horny," you giggled.

"I'm sorry," Denki replied, hiding his shame in a pillow. "Just making you feel better makes me feel good."

"Oh? Then feel free to make me feel much, much better," you purred, rolling on top of him.

"F-fuck," he whispered, hands catching your waist, "this- this was supposed to be a wholesome m-moment."

"Says you," you snorted, rolling your hips to grind on his erection.

"I-I know but," Denki bit his lip, "I- uhg. I dunno."

"C'mon, Denki-Chan~ please~~?" You hummed, batting your eyelashes at him.

His eyes wandered down to where you were seated, and he felt his dick twitch, "ok. But, I wanna make this about you. So, uh, make sure you tell me if I'm being too selfish, kay?"

You nodded, smiling brightly before leaning in to place a fat kiss on Denki's lips. He whimpered under your touch, fisting your shirt tighter. He excitedly bobbed his tongue against your lower lip, initiating his favourite way to kiss you. Denki gently turned the two of you over, laying you on your back.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Beautiful," Denki mumbled, hurrying to remove your shirt. "Oh fuck, you're hot."

You were blushing underneath him and trying not to protest his praise, loosely holding onto his thighs. Denki continued to remove your bra, only taking a few tries, and threw it somewhere on the floor. His Cheshire grin made you wriggle in embarrassment, and you managed to grind up into his crotch.

"Babe, your tits are amazing," Denki drooled, leaning down and trying to grab as much flesh as possible. He attached his mouth around one nipple, sucking and nibbling slightly before moving on to the next one.

"D-denki," you gasped, knitting your fingers through his hair. "Just fuck me, please."

His whole scheme to have a nice, soft, all-about-you night, went out the window when he heard you say that. How could he say no to you? He leaned up again and gave you a sloppy kiss, "ok, baby. Remember, tell me if I'm being too selfish."

You nodded excitedly, readjusting your position. Denki pulled down your pants with ease, groaning at the sight of you in just your panties. You were amazing, and he couldn't believe that he was on top of you, about to make you feel good. He peeled off your panties and threw them beside him. He licked his hand and reached down to your pussy, giving your clit a quick rub before he put a condom on.

Denki sighed with delight as he rubbed his cock between your folds, lubing himself up with your juices, "can't wait to fuck you, y/n."

"Just do it, Denki~" you chided, rolling your hips impatiently.

"Fffuck, you're so hot," Denki hissed as he inched himself into you. "M' so lucky."

You bit your lip through a moan, and guided your hands to your boyfriend's shoulders. You could feel your face heating up, a red hue igniting your cheeks. You were too focused on Denki dipping into you to realize that, oh god, the lights were fully on.

"—wait. The lights..." you mumbled, tempted to push Denki off of you so you could flick them off.

"Nuh-uh, babe," Denki tisked, leaning closer to you. "I hardly ever see you like this with so much lighting. Makes me so much more turned-on for you."

You let out a small moan at his embarrassing words, Denki quickening his pace. You could only groan and tighten your grip on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Denki's breath was ragged from the way you clenched against him whenever he went deep enough, trying to trap him inside of you.

"D-denki~~ feels so good," your eyebrows furrowed, bucking with his rhythm.

"Y-you deserve—," Denki struggled, sweat dripping from his forehead, "you deserve to f-feel good, baby. You deserve to feel amazing."

Through your stupor you could tell that he was on the edge of his orgasm, his jaw clenching, and his words coming out jumbled. Denki started rutting into you harder, with more intensity, and tried to swallow his groans.

"Thought you weren't gonna be greedy and cum before me, hm?" You ribbed as he fucked into you wildly.

"It's—," Denki huffed, "—hard when I haven't had sex with you for awhile."

Your pleasure came back to you as Denki struggled to rub your clit, lurching his hips faster. You brought your hand down to do it yourself, saving Denki from a very sore left arm. The mix of the penetration and touches to your clit made you moan out pleas, encouraging Denki to fuck you harder.

"Oh god, oh fuck. Oh fuck your so attractive. Shiiit, you're so sexy, babe," Denki blabbered as he grabbed one of your tits. "Shitshitshitshitshit I'm close—."

"I-I'm gonna cum," you whimpered, failing to give yourself slow, sensual rubs. It was almost vicious how you were touching yourself, desperate for release.

"God, cum for me, y/n," Denki choked as he drooled.

"Yes, yes... yes!" You chanted, throwing your head back and yelling out Denki's name.

"Oh my god—," Denki groaned, eyes rolling back as he filled the condom with his semen. "You are... the bestest thing."

"Thank you, Denki," you smiled, sitting up weakly as he dropped the used condom in the trash. "Thank you."

"Of course!" He yelled, skipping back to you and giving you a hug.

"Denki Kaminari, don't you ever skip towards me naked ever again," you scolded, shoving a finger to his chest.

"What?!" He grinned. "What's wrong with a little flippy-floppy?"

"Kaminari!!"

#anime #bnha #mha #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki #denki kaminari smut

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, booksandeverlark!

Our sincerest apologies for the delay on your gift, @booksandeverlark​! We hope your birthday back on October 22nd was a wonderful one, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for. To bring your party feels back around, the lovely @mega-aulover​ has written a monster of a fic just for you!

RATED E - For sexual situations and trigger warnings for manhandling and mild violence.  Some Hunger Characters are off Cannon for the purpose of the story. 

a/n Peeta Mellark is one of the worlds most recognizable stars, and he needs a break. He goes missing and is hiding in plain sight because he has fallen for Katniss Everdeen who is raising a tween Prim. Everything goes according to plan until one day Hollywood comes a’callin  

- special thanks to @norbertsmom who beta’d this monster of a story. 20K sorry to Booksandeverlark for the lateness of the story I hope you had a belated birthday.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete Holly Golightly 

-THE JUNKET 

“Where the hell is the kid?” Haymitch growled. 

“He’s in his bedroom,” his red-haired assistant said, popping her gum not even looking up from her phone.

Haymitch opened the door, and saw red.  He took his phone and called the kid, and the phone began ringing. There was a buzzing sound coming from behind the ensuite bathroom. The younger generation never went anywhere without their phones. The kid was no exception. 

“Kid,” Haymitch marched into the room and banged on the door. 

He had a bone to pick with the kid. The junket was a roller coaster. The kid was barely coherent during the second half of the interviews.  His co-stars did the heavy lifting.  Haymitch did everything in his power to get the kid in this movie, and he was brilliant, an Oscar worthy performance, but now the kid was burnt out.

The phone began buzzing again. 

“Come on Peeta. I know you’re in there I can hear the phone buzzing.” 

It was silent on the opposite side of the bathroom door. 

“Kid,” Haymitch said once more. Peeta was one of the most responsible people. Today was so out of character for him. Yet again, the pressure by the press lately made the kid feel like a guppy in a bowl full of piranhas.

A few weeks ago, some not-so-distinguished members of the press broke into the kid’s home. Peeta’s privacy was smashed when he found out it was his own mother who gave the pap’s the key to his house for a cool $100K. Ever since then the kid changed.

Haymitch was worried. The pressure was getting to Peeta. He was no longer having fun. His smiles never reached his eyes anymore. Haymitch was just about the only one who could tell when Peeta became Peet-the-movie-star. No one could distinguish the polished, charming, and funny persona from the genuine affable, fiercely loyal, kind kid Peeta was at the core of his being. 

After the press junket was over the kid gave him the slip. Normally they talked about the next project or movie. Opening the door, Haymitch cursed when he saw the kids’ phone on the bathroom counter with a note next to it.

“Haymitch, I’m just exhausted. I need a break. I promise I’ll be at the world premiere of the movie - Holly Golightly.” 

Haymitch crushed the note in his hand. He laughed bitterly at the code name the kid gave himself whenever he checked into a hotel. The kid loved the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Thankfully, this was the last appearance Peeta had to make before the movie premier in less than a week. But a week later, when Peeta didn’t make it to his movie premiere, the entire industry went up in arms.

Peeta's disappearance was the talk of the town. Even three weeks later the fury hadn’t died down. Every paparazzi fueled by the promise of the mini fortune for the first picture of Peeta Mellark was now hunting down the kid. The good boy gone missing had every tabloid spinning articles and fake sightings. Peeta had gone into the Elvis Presley stratosphere of speculation. Everything from aliens, to he became a monk. One thing for certain, the pap’s were seeking Peeta like a struggling dieter seeking a rich German chocolate cake.

-THE SEARCH

“You got any proof you saw Peeta Mellark?” Claudius questioned Judy Morphling.

“You got the cash?” the thin girl with the dark circles under her eyes asked.

Claudius showed Judy the white envelope filled with a couple of hundred-dollar-bills. She was a junkie. And he took advantage of her broke status to make a quick buck to fix her addiction. Claudius slipped the envelope back into his pocket. He wasn't fooled by kids like these.

He’d spent the past four weeks hunting down dead ends. People willing to sell their left arm for money. True, there were other pursuits where he scored a couple of thousand. The hottest going ticket in tinsel town was finding the whereabouts of Hollywood's golden good boy Peeta Mellark. The movie he was in had gone to number one for the past four weeks. It was driven by the mystery of his disappearance, and the phenomenal acting performance in the movie about race. It was a true story, a love story about a man who moved heaven and earth for the love of his life, a freed slave. 

“Okay,” she said.

“Now the proof,” Caludius demanded. 

He was familiar with his informant's story, all too well. Judy won a popular game show when she was in college. She became an instant national sweetheart. During her 15 minute of fame, she was invited to every single hot Hollywood party. Subsequently, she got hooked on alcohol and drugs. One of the bellhops tipped him off that she was in the hotel where Peeta was having the junket and that she had seen him the day he disappeared.

She looked side to side nervously reaching into her pocket to whip out her phone. "Here."

With detached indifference he looked at the picture. It was hard to tell, the guy had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Claudius swiped the screen and saw that trademark chiseled chin his ex fawned over. It was him. Still, knowing the kid had walked out of the junket didn’t help him. He wasn’t ready to part with his money for just any reason.  “This could be anyone,” he said.

Judy lifted an eyebrow. “A friend of mine that works at a gas station said he also saw him.”

Claudius took a step back. “Sorry Judy. I need real proof.”

“I just need something to tide me over...please...look I have a friend... my friend’s name is Morph.”

“Morph like in the TV show?”

“His mom was a big into 1970’s reruns.” She shrugged, though the light trembling in her lips let Caludius know she was desperate. 

“Okay look.” He took out a twenty and showed it to her. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the money. “Give me this guys information. If it proves to be fruitful, I’ll pay you what you asked for.”

“Okay,” she held out her hand. “I’ll text you his information.”

His phone buzzed. He looked down at the information. “That’s out of State?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were on the money. 

“You say he works at a gas station?” Claudius enjoyed taunting his informants. He waved the cash, like a cat and mouse game. 

“Near the border.”  

Claudius withdrew the folded bill. He needed assurances that she wasn’t just talking to get the money and not coming through with information vital to him. The payout for finding Mellark was nearly 200K. Judy licked her lips as her eyes followed the money reaching out with her hand.

“I’ll text Morph to give you an exclusive.” 

“Text him now.”

“Okay, okay.” Judy’s fingers moved quickly over the screen of her phone. She even included him in the group chat. When the reply came back as “no problem”, Claudius was satisfied. 

“Here ya go,” Claudius said, giving her the twenty bucks. He walked away; he needed to make the trip to Peeta Mellark’s last known position. He hummed as he got into his car, thrilled for the chase. 

-LIVING WITH THE ENEMY

Gale Hawthorne glowered from underneath the tree in his backyard as District Twelve’s newest resident, that blond painter Pete Golightly, made a move on Katniss Everdeen. He was supposed to be taking out the trash when he saw them by the curbside.

They stood so close in the dark that she was swallowed up by the guy's physique. But they weren’t touching, and although that was a relief, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. 

He liked Katniss. No, that was an understatement. He more than liked her, he could see that there was a potential between them. She was smart, he wouldn’t call her pretty, hell she never smiled. But she made sense to him, she was practical, determined, efficient, loyal, punctual, and some much more. Katniss never looked at him like a piece of man meat. A lot of girls looked at him that way.

Frankly it was great, but sometimes, Gale sighed, sometimes he wanted to have an honest conversation with a girl. With Katniss he could, he’d talk, sure she didn’t say much, but she listened and that’s what he wanted. He held a candle for her so long that watching her with the new guy made him grow tense. He wanted to punch a wall.

The nerve in his temple drummed making his headache even worse. 

Rubbing his temple he wondered what the hell a guy like Golightly had that made Katniss, and for that matter, every single woman within a fifty mile radius act like a cat in heat.  Even his own mother talked about how handsome the painter was. And of all of the available girls, the douche chose Katniss to hang around. 

The peal of girlish laughter reached his ears. Gale walked closer, using the darkness to hide himself. He wanted to hear what they were saying. He crouched by her car. From this position he could see them. Pete dipped his head low near hers. Gale knew that hovering move, it was a move he used to get close enough to kiss a girl. 

Gale furled his fist. He watched Katniss reach up and smooth Pete’s golden locks away from his face. 

Katniss didn’t do that. She didn’t touch people, hell she didn’t like to be touched. He recalled how she recoiled when he tried to touch her. She did the same thing at Greasy Sea's whenever someone touched her by accident. Gale loved it when she scowled at them.   

Then she leaned up on tiptoe.

“No, no, no,” Gale ground out.  He then stood agog as Katniss lifted her head up to kiss Pete Golightly. 

It wasn’t a long kiss. It was really a peck, but Gale could see that both parties enjoyed the kiss. Her hand was perched on his chest and his hand covered it while the other one cupped her chin. This guy was a smooth operator.  Gale’s head pounded as he saw red. 

Pete separated from Katniss and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he walked away to his car. Once he pulled out, Gale stood to his full height. 

“I thought you didn’t have time for that.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.  He stomped over to her, his fists curling and uncurling. He was trying to keep his calm. 

Katniss turned around and gasped her eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight. “What the hell are you doing, Gale?” 

She had the look of a girl who was properly kissed and that drove Gale insane. “You chose that pasty faced wimp?”

Her face transformed into that steely scowl of hers. She walked around him. 

Gale followed. “I’m talking to you.”

She ignored him as she moved forward. 

When she reached the front door of the garage apartment she rented from his mother, he turned her around, leaning down toward her. “What, you don’t have anything to say?”

Katniss looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of your damned business.” 

Gale was going to say something to her when she opened the door to the apartment and quicker than a fox stealing eggs from a henhouse she slipped inside and shut the door in his face. 

Gale pounded on the side of the door. This wasn’t over. 

-80’s QUEEN

“Prim,” Katniss hollered through the bathroom door of the small studio apartment.

The apartment was basically a portion of Hazel Hawthorn's garage. There was no privacy except for the small airplane sized bathroom. She jiggled the bathroom doorknob. Prim was going to be late for the bus.

“Katniss!” Prim screeched from the other side.

She rolled her eyes at her baby sister's dramatic response. “You’re going to be late for school.”

The door opened and Prim stood there pouting, her blond hair a riot. Katniss did not dare gasp. Prim was a tween and Katniss knew how vicious kids could be at school. Instead she sighed, “Okay, what can I do to help?” 

“It’s 80’s day at school today and I need to look like that,” Prim pointed to the picture on her phone of Christie Brinkley. 

“We’re going to need a lot of hairspray and a brush,” Katniss rolled up the sleeves of her shirt.

“But I’m going to be late to school!” Prim cried.

Prim was twelve and at this age everything was a crisis. Katniss wasn’t as dramatic as Prim at that age, though she was moody. “Hey, I’ll give you a ride into school. It will be alright,” Katniss smiled over Prim’s head, their reflected images showed a united front. They were as different as night and day, but both girls had their dad’s smile and their mom’s button nose. 

"Thanks Katniss," Prim said in a small voice. She was almost a teenager, but still very much a little girl.

"Okay, let's rock this." Hair and makeup wasn’t her strong suit but Katniss had a crash course having to take guardianship of her baby sister at the age of eighteen. When their parents died, Katniss fought tooth and nail for her sister. She didn’t want Prim to go into the foster care system. She elected not to go to college and found a job. She sold their parents’ house, paid off the debts and made a home for herself and her then 10-year-old sister. 

It was a rough learning curve, but somehow Katniss made it work. 

Taking a brush, she quickly brushed and smoothed her sister's hair. She took a portion of Prim's beautiful wavy blond hair and put it in a side ponytail. The rest of her hair Katniss curled and teased into perfect 80's puffiness. Combined with her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt she borrowed, Prim was perfect to go back in time. 

They were rushing out of the house. Katniss started her beat up Camry and began to make her way down the mountain. The mountains of Panem’s District Twelve were a beautiful blue grey. A lot of the residents lived in the high hills because they were cooler than the valley below. It was private and no one got a house in the hills unless it was passed down by family inheritance or in her case, a rental by a friend of the family. The school was a good half-hour away from the entrance of the steep hill, but as they drove, the car began to shake as they made their way down a steep incline. 

Her palms were sweaty as she frantically pressed on the brakes as they made their way down to a small plateau. She pulled the heaving, trembling Camry to the side of the road.

“No, no, no,” she uttered as it began to smoke. Katniss sighed and hoped that it wasn’t something costly. “I’m going to take a look.”  She popped the hood. Getting out, she went to the hood and released the latch. She jumped back as a waft of billowy hot plume of smoke wafted from the engine. 

“Dagnabit,” Katniss muttered.

“Is it fixable?” Prim asked out of the window.

She grimaced before she looked toward where her sister sat in the car, at this rate Prim was never getting to school. Her knowledge on cars was limited. She knew how to change the oil, change a tire, and do the necessary upkeep for a car. However, it was the more complicated stuff like identifying which of the hoses that broke causing her car to overheat, was out of her scope. That would mean she’d have to deal with Gale, a mechanic by trade.

Gale was obsessive about her, something that Katniss hated. They were once friends until Gale stopped looking at her as a friend, but something to be possessed. He didn’t acknowledge they were too alike, in temperament and personalities. To Katniss it didn’t matter Greasy Sae said Gale was sex on a stick, she just didn’t like him like that.

Her appetite for men ran in a different direction. Sighing, she gave the car a bewildered look. The odds were not on her side. 

“Katniss, I'm going to miss school,” Prim said desperately from the window of the passenger seat.

Katniss felt bad. These were the times she felt guilty for not being a better sister / guardian to her sister. Prim was a good kid and deserved better. Looking down at her watch, time was running out.  Squaring her shoulders Katniss vowed she was going to get her sister to school. “Come on,” Katniss said, reaching down and grabbing Prim’s knapsack. “We’ll be late, but we can walk to school.”

“We can call Pete,” Prim said quietly.

Katniss couldn’t help the flush that crept up to her cheeks at the mention of their new hunky neighbor. Those darned butterflies began whizzing around her stomach. Katniss wanted to hush them or at least put them on a leash whenever Pete was around. 

Pete lived on the mountain with them. He was quiet, and he and her sister got along like chicken wings and buffalo sauce. Pete was the different her appetite was hungry for. Her mind replayed the soul stirring kiss they shared. They said a kiss was a window into a person’s heart, and if that kiss was an indication of what was in Peeta’s heart it was a three alarm fire that burned for her.

However, the kiss was something she wasn’t going to share with her twelve-year-old sister. Hell, that wasn’t something she wanted to even think about. “Prim.”

“Katniss,” her sister’s eyes glittered with mischief. The little imp knew what she was doing.

“I don’t need a man to come rescue us. We can walk to the school.”

“I know we don’t need a man, but we’re not even halfway down the mountain and I’m more than half-an-hour away from school. Pete is about two minutes away.”

Her sister’s logic was infallible, and Katniss knew it, but loathed to admit. “Fine, call Pete.”

-INCOGNITO 

Peeta drove exactly three minutes from his home to see the old dark Camry with the hazard lights on. His gut clenched when he saw the petite fiery woman with the olive skin tone, eyes the color of a raging storm, and cute pert nose. They were seeing each other, not in an official I’m dating you way, but definitely in the, there was something going on between them.

Peeta was used to women fawning all over him. Not Katniss, and he’d fallen for her harder than a sledgehammer hitting concrete. They’d kissed last night. Not a gentle peck on the lips, but the type of kiss that proved the earth was round, because your world shifted on its access. One moment you were standing on the floor and the next you were standing on the ceiling.

He’d been a star since the age of six months. A casting agent walked into his parents’ failing bakery and spotted him sitting in a high chair. The agent convinced his father to put him up for one of those national baby advertisements. Yet none of the accolades he received compared to winning a small smile from the woman standing on the side of the road.

“Hi,” Katniss said pushing her long rope of braided raven hair over her shoulder.   

“Hi,” Peeta said, climbing out of his truck. 

“Hi Pete,” Prim greeted, her eyes alight with joy.

“Hey, little duck.” Katniss' sister Primrose was as infectious as sunshine after a rainy day. She was the one person Peeta was sure Katniss would put her life down for. He had never seen that type of devotion and love before. In the industry he was in there wasn’t much room for any sort of relationship. Everything was colored by money.

His own mother was the poster girl for how money corrupts absolutely. When that casting agent walked into the family’s failing bakery his mother doubted he would get casted; she often said he was an ugly baby. His mother was wrong. Peeta won the contest. His round little face with his priceless blue eyes was soon appearing on every jar, can, and package of that brand of baby product. His mother got bit by the show biz bug, or rather the money that he made from it. She became his manager, and without anyone’s knowledge, took money from Peeta. As he became older and less easy to control his mother became abusive.

Peeta longed for a normal semblance of life. Despite not having two pennies to rub together, Katniss was raising Prim on her own and she was doing it all right. Not once did he hear Katniss lose her temper with her baby sister.

“Hi,” Katniss waved back, her face a deep shade of purple. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her pink diner waitress uniform Greasy Sae made Katniss wear. Her white sneakers shuffled back and forth.

Peeta got out and slipped his sunglasses off. He opened the cab door and held it for Prim and Katniss.

Katniss rolled her eyes at him.

They had this discussion before, about how he didn’t have to hold the door open for her. Peeta knew Katniss was more than capable of opening her own doors, but he was a romantic. He believed in Arthur and the Round Table and a knight’s code. His friend Finnick often told him he was born in the wrong era. He stood up when a lady walked into a room, held doors open, and walked little old ladies across the street.

“Seat belt,” Katniss reminded Prim who already had her earbuds in.

“K,” Prim replied.

“Oh, your lunch,” Katniss said, taking out a brown paper bag littered with glittery stickers from her brown leather messenger bag.

“Katniss, pink panda bears?” Prim huffed.

“I thought you liked them?”

“I do, but these stickers scream six-year-old kid.”

“Okay next time I’ll do a plain brown bag.” Katniss put on her seat belt.

Peeta caught the way Prim’s fingers went over the stickers with awe and reverence. Once more he couldn’t help loving the way the sisters were a unit.

For the whole of his life Peeta longed to be accepted and loved by his family. His older brothers were self-involved and didn’t give a flying fig newton about him; he was just their meal ticket. His mother was abusive and money hungry. His father was a simple man who couldn’t stand up to his wife.

His dad failed to protect Peeta.  

The lesson he learned growing up was that no one needed him. They needed his bank. That last stunt was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Peeta needed a way out and he found a way. His friend, mega star, Finnick Odair helped him get it. Starting over was worth breaking a few rules. He made a few withdrawals, put it in a new bank account and when the time was right, he left.

The trek to the small country of Panem that sat between the Canadian border and the United States border took less than 19 hours including a 90-minute ferry. Panem was a small island, with little islands scattered around it. District twelve was the smallest of the islands and had the smallest community. He chose this small island because it was so far removed from everything that reminded him of Hollywood.

He could have continued travelling but stopped when he met Prim and subsequently her older sister, Katniss. Peeta stayed far longer than what he wanted to because he was fascinated by Katniss.

Once they were on the road, Katniss kept on sneaking looks at him. It was when he caught her gaze going down to his mouth that he knew he was in danger, by the way he stiffened in his jeans. He looked back at Primrose in the seat and the pressing problem in his jeans shriveled.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Katniss said, clearing her throat. She picked up her phone and called the school and her husky voice on the phone made him uncomfortable once more.

Peeta told himself to keep himself in check. Peeta wasn’t a lady’s man, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. However, he was the type who liked to be in a relationship. In his opinion, the best sex was had when he was emotionally connected with someone. When it was used just to blow off steam or to scratch an itch, he found it empty and meaningless, so he stayed clear of women who only promised that sort interaction.  By Hollywood standards, he was a virgin. Compared to him, Katniss was a unicorn.

He respected her and if she knew his thoughts she’d no doubt shoot him through the eye with her bow. To be fair, he was terrified of Katniss, especially when she was in what he called the ‘Hunter Mode.’ Her scowl combined with her glittering silver eyes promised pain and certain death to whomever was in her crossfire.

There were two things he learned not to mess with, one her sister Primrose, and the other was her personal business. Katniss was an extremely private person. Peeta sighed as they sped toward Prim’s school.

“Prim,” Katniss said. “I let the school know we’re on our way.”

“What about Greasy Sae?” Peeta asked.

“Greasy was the first person I called while Prim called you.”

They approached the school and there were a few stragglers, parents rushing to get their kids into the school building. Katniss jumped out of the car.

“Katniss, I'm not a baby. I can make it into school by myself,” Prim whined.

“Prim I have to sign you in, and that will continue straight up through high school.” Katniss' matter of fact tone of voice let Prim know this wasn’t the time for a pre-teen hissy fit.

“Fine,” Prim said quietly.

Peeta grinned. “I’ll wait here while you get her sorted.” 

Katniss nodded, a look flitted through her eyes. She had been avoiding him, and in a way he had been avoiding her as well. He knew the kiss was a dangerous thing and with everyday he stayed put, there was a chance he could be discovered.

He pulled his hat lower and slipped on his sunglasses. Even though he’d let his natural blond hair grow out, there was a chance people would recognize him, his eyes were legendary. The only thing he was grateful for was that his mother despised his blond locks. 

To the public at large, he had brown hair. For the majority of his career Peeta dyed his hair and eyebrows. He purposefully didn’t take movies where he had to be a blond. After his parents’ stunt, he had begun to let it grow out. Cinna, his stylist, helped him wear a wig whenever he needed to make a public appearance. 

It was easy to slip on some glasses and walk out of the hotel. About halfway through the interviews Peeta had his double sneak in, so that he could escape. No one could make out the difference, well no one but Haymitch. 

Peeta felt guilty for duping his manager and mentor. The wrap on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. Katniss stood on the other side, her eyes were staring at his hands. He didn’t realize the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel. He felt the blush creeping up the side of his neck. Leaning over he quickly jumped out and opened the truck door for her.

“Pete,” Katniss mumbled under her breath.

“You’ve got your quirks, and this is one of mine.” He could see the beginning of a small smile on Katniss face and that right there was the reason he kept on coming back to see her. When she smiled it was better than Christmas, better than fresh baked cookies, and better than a greasy bacon double cheeseburger after a night out knocking back beers with Finnick.

He got into the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

“Look,” Katniss grimaced.

Peeta sucked in a breath. Here it came, the excuses passed off as rationalizations. Peeta dreaded the speeches that ranged from it was a mistake, we should forget that it happened, and his least favorite, it’s not you it’s me, I’m sorry I’m just not that into you.

“I don’t do that,” Katniss said. Her eyes were focused on her hands. 

Peeta sat back waiting patiently for Katniss to continue.

Her cheeks were tinged with a warm red color.  She wrinkled her nose and bit her bottom lip, all signs of her nervousness. Peeta found it endearing. 

“I don’t go around.” Her leg began shaking now. “...kissing, I don’t go around kissing...”

“I know.” He put his hand next to hers, but didn’t touch her. Yet, the nearness of their hands caused butterflies to make an appearance in his stomach. The connection between the two of them was electric. He hoped she felt the same way.  He saw her look turn from trepidatious to one of suspicion. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is you take care of your sister. She’s your whole life. You don’t have time for romantic entanglements.” 

Her eyes opened.    

“You have to worry about putting food on the table, a roof over your heads, plus everything that comes with raising a tween.” They came to a stop at a stoplight.

She blinked.

Peeta opened his mouth and shut it. He sighed and nodded; her actions proved refutably, his words were wrong. He didn’t hear her moving  across the cabin, or the way her hands braced his face before she kissed him.

Peeta’s heart exploded like a redstone rocket leaving the mission pad into the atmosphere. Her lips were warm and supple, and they tasted of ginger and mint. His hands gently cupped hers. 

Katniss pulled away. Her lips plump, her eyes were a dark stormy gray, from their kiss. She smiled at him shyly. “Thank you.”

“I think I should be thanking you.” The light turned green and he began driving. He couldn't hide the ear to ear grin.

Katniss raised an eyebrow and gave him a chaste kiss. “I like you Pete Golightly.”

Hearing his fake name sat like sour milk in his stomach. Peeta wanted to come clean to Katniss but didn’t know how. Katniss wasn’t anyone who trusted people easily, and she let him get close. He felt guilty for not being honest with her. But he held onto the idea that he was going to be leaving soon. He also told himself that the less people knew about his secret the easier it was for him to be able stay incognito.  

He gently let go of her hands and he missed her touch when she pulled away.  “I like you too, Katniss Everdeen.” 

“You want to come overnight,” Katniss asked.

“As long as you let me make you and Prim dinner.” 

She looked indecisive.

“Look, you’re going to be late picking up Prim tonight, and when you get to the apartment you’re going to focus on Prim and her homework while making dinner. Since today is Wednesday you do the laundry.” 

Wednesday is the most dratted day...it runs a close second to Sunday night. Katniss hated laundry. She hated the separating, the folding, the waiting well just about everything except for the smell of the fabric softener. She said it reminded her of a spring meadow on a warm day.

“Okay,” she said. Laughter bubbling up from her lips. “How do you know me so well?” 

Peeta winked slowly. “I always take notice when you’re in the room Katniss.” He enjoyed the blush that blossomed on her cheeks.

-THE CHASE

Less than two days later Claudius unfolded himself from his car. He pulled into the gas station near the border of Canada and Panem to fill up his tank. 

A young family got out of the rest stop right next to him. The girls got out and  were talking about Peeta. There was a billboard of the movie hanging right in front of them. Claudius followed them inside, he went to join the line, he had cash to pay for the gasoline. The girls queued up behind him.

“He’s so cute,” the young girl said, pointing to the tabloid with the picture of Peeta Mellark. The headline read he was taken by aliens. 

Claudius glanced behind him, and estimated the girl must have been sixteen.

The other one who looked to be fourteen said, “He’s so yummy. Too bad mommy wont let us see his movie.”

“I know,” the sixteen year-old grumbled.

“Do you think his parents had something to do with his disappearance?”

“I don’t know,” the older sister said. 

Claudius reached the front of the line and paid forty for gas. He walked outside into the sunlight. It had been a long ride from the junket to this small town. He had to stop halfway there and rent a hotel room for the night. After a complimentary stale pastry and tepid tea for breakfast, he was back out on the road. He was finally just outside the small town.

He walked toward his car and began to pump gas.  The girls came out of the small convenience store and sat down in the small shaded picnic area next to the gas stop.

A young boy about their age walked by them and they were giggling and laughing. 

“Girls,” their mother called out. “We’re leaving.”

“Okay mom,” the girls yelled out in unison. As they stood up from the shaded area. They looked up at the billboard. And continued to speak about Peeta Mellrak. 

Claudius smirked at the girl's conversation. The actions of the young star were a mystery to Claudius and to the entire world. 

Why leave all of the money and power behind, Claudius wondered? That question is what drew him to the story, he’d discovered. The kid was clean, didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink, he wasn’t broke.  The kid had millions in the bank. 

In his last movie, Peeta, was involved in the producing, directing, and script writing. The success of the movie had everyone clamorning to work with him. The kid was on the cusp, he had the ability to make more money and have the kind of power to make his own movies. They billed him as the next Ron Howard. Why would the kid throw all of that way? No one was that crazy. Claudius knew of one person who left it all behind at the height of their career, Dolores Hart. Dolores starred opposite Elvis Presley, and some of Hollywood's top male actors of the time. She left Hollywood to become a nun.

Claudius wondered if Mrs. Mellark had anything to do with Peeta Mellark’s Agatha Christie stunt. The Mellarks were a mess. The kind that were a paparazzi present wrapped up tightly with bright ribbon under the Christmas tree. His older brothers were sleeze balls. His oldest brother was in hot water for making several statements that were deeply offensive to a number of people. The middle Mellark was a mainstay in Vegas. He was a gambler and rumored to have connections with the mafia. He was seen with the daughter of notorious mobster Seneca Crane. 

His mother, she was a joy, a really Betty Croker, complete with shark teeth. The woman sold her son’s privacy for 100 grand. The reporters entered his house and took detailed pictures of his home. The best was his color coordinated underwear draw. Everyone knew he was a boxer brief guy. His father was a patsy, with the personality of a limp wet towel. 

Claudius wondered if they were the reason he left Hollywood? But then again, Peeta had nothing to do with his family. They lived separate lives. Peeta didn’t even have pictures of his family in his house. Only gorgeous paintings that were discovered to have been painted by Peeta himself. If his family was the reason, it didn’t matter to Claudius. He wanted to be the first to find Peeta Mellark.

It’s why he was in the border town looking for Judy’s friend Morph.  

-NIGHT IN

Katniss watched Peeta with her sister. Her heart raced a thousand miles an hour, a common occurrence whenever he was around. He was washing the dishes with her sister as she folded laundry. 

Prim introduced them, and Katniss hadn’t wanted to be his friend. She didn’t want to be with anyone. She had to raise Prim. Her sister took the priority in her life and few people understood the pressure that came with being so young and raising a child. She was still only twenty, and they were visited by a fastidious case worker Effie Trinket whose sharp eyes never missed a thing. If there was speck of dust on a lampshade Miss Trinket would spot it.

It’s why she stayed away from men. They complicated her simple drive to protect and provide for her sister. Pete however never imposed his person on hers. He never demanded that she pay attention to him. Instead he slowly and politely became her friend. She hadn’t wanted to face him after the kiss, but after fate brought them together, and she spoke to him in the car she couldn’t help but kiss him again. 

That second kiss caused Katniss to realize maybe she was ready for more with Pete. He was kind, gentle, intelligent, witty, funny, and sexy. The last word caused her to blush, because she chose that moment to stare at him. As if sensing her stare, he looked up and his eyes darkened. His gaze dropped down to her lips before they moved up once again. 

He was thinking of their kiss and Katniss squirmed in her seat. 

Prim said something funny and he laughed. 

“That’s just as bad as Gale making a pass at my sister.” 

“No way?” Pete said gazing at Katniss.

He was curious about Gale. Katniss told him she didn’t have any romantic feelings about Gale. 

“Way,” Prim said. “Gale thinks Katniss should date him because he’s so,” she said holding up her fingers in the air to make quotations. “...great.”

Pete didn’t say anything. 

“They were friends and then my parents died. Gale expected my sister to fall at his feet. He kept on coming to the house to try to help, to make it known Katniss was his girl.” Prim’s face soured like that time she drank bad milk. 

They never spoke about that time after their parents died. Katniss preferred to move forward.

 “After the funeral he tried to make his move.”

“After the funeral, you mean the day you were…”

Katniss stopped folding the clothing. She had no idea Prim had overheard. She thought her sister was in their old home.

“Can you believe it!” Prim shook her head. “I was in the tree house hiding. I saw him grab my sister by the shoulder and try to kiss her, but Katniss pushed him away. She told him she wouldn’t have time for him, because she needed to petition the courts for me. Gale told her that raising me was a mistake. My sister kicked him in the nuts.”

“Did she?” Pete asked, his eyebrow quirked. Katniss could see his admiration, not for kicking Gale in the nuts as Prim said, but for sticking to her guns to take care of her sister.

Prim giggled, “He never saw it coming.” 

“So how did you guys end up living in their garage?”

“Katniss had to sell our house to pay for the bills and for the lawyers and court fees.”

Katniss stood up and sighed. “Gale’s mother is the real estate agent that helped me sell our house. She offered the garage as a way for her to make extra money after her divorce from Gale’s dad.” Katniss shrugged,  “She needed the extra income, and I needed a place to live. It was a mutual agreement.” 

"Katniss worked really hard to make the garage homey."

Katniss watched Pete look around the apartment as if he’d never really taken a good look. His focus was always on Prim or herself. To be fair he wasn’t someone who took notice of the disparity they lived in. Gale constantly offered to fix things for her, including her person. It was like that perfect backhanded compliment. You look nice in a dress, you should wear one more often, or the one that always made her see red. Your face is pretty when you smile and wear makeup. 

Katniss wanted to hurt Gale every single time he said something stupid and asinine. 

Gale’s harsh words didn’t extend only to her person, they also extended to the apartment. Gale made her feel insecure about her flea bargain finds, dollar store buys, and hand-me-down furniture. He thought the colors dull, and her paint job was poor, but never offered to help paint. 

Katniss could see all of the gaff’s she made painting. Katniss decorated their small home with calm earth tones, wanting it to convey peacefulness, warmth and be inviting. When they moved here Prim was ten and Katniss wanted to make sure her sister felt like everything was going to be alright. 

The studio was small with a loft. Katniss gave her sister the loft so that she could have privacy. Prim was growing up and Katniss understood the need for space. Katniss went through those awkward years with their parents, their door was always open. It’s why she made a bedroom for herself in the nook below the loft.  Katniss used shutters for a wall near the entrance and creatively used a tension rod between two bookshelves to make an entry to her makeshift bedroom.

Yet in Pete’s warm blue eyes she saw what could be considered admiration. 

“You are amazing,” Pete said simply.

Katniss could feel the onslaught of warmth that rushed from her heart to her cheeks, because unlike Gale’s thinly veiled insults which hailed from a vain superficial perspective. Gale could only see beyond his own needs whereas Pete's hailed from deep within. 

“Yes she is and she needs someone just as amazing,” Prim piped up, and Katniss was mortified. What came out of Prim’s mouth next however made Katniss want to bury her head in the sand. “Someone like you, Pete!”

Katniss thought she wanted to strangle her sister, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She glanced up and found herself staring at Pete’s lips. She wanted to be alone with him and kiss him once more but she couldn’t do anything in front of her sister. 

“Prim I think you sister is more than capable of making her own decisions about who she wants to date.” 

Pete’s words were commendable, and given the way his blue eyes looked darker and the fact that his eyes were gazing at her lip was a clear indication that Pete was thinking of the same thing, that kiss. 

“You two are perfect for each other.” Prim’s gaze switched between Katniss and Peeta’s. “I am going up to my loft, put my noise cancelling headphones on and listen to my favorite K-Pop band really loudly in case you two want to kiss,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows with all of the mischievous and impish power she held. 

“PRIM!!” Katniss gasped.

Prim’s peal of laughter exploded in the apartment as she ran up her loft ladder. 

If Pete hadn’t been standing next to her she would have chased her sister.  She turned slightly to Pete who stood with his hands in his pockets. 

“I,” Katniss uttered, unsure what to say.  The mood was ruined by her impish sister.

“Katniss, we can just hang out,” Pete suggested. “Maybe watch a movie? Or even fold laundry.”

Katniss wanted  to roll her eyes at his suggestion to fold laundry.

“You doubt my folding abilities? I will have you know I know the secret of folding a fitted sheet, it’s a family secret but I may have to kill you unless you’re willing to die for it," Pete said wiggling his eyebrows.

"You know I am an excellent archer." Katniss narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

His instant grin and mischievous glint in his blue eyes caused a small fire to begin in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t explain the butterflies that sprung in her stomach whenever she was near him. Or the way she couldn’t stop staring at his nearly translucent eyelashes. She swallowed thickly as she stared at his lips and recalled how sweet he tasted, and the insane need, no scratch that, desire to walk up to him and kiss him. 

“Oh hell,” Katniss breathed before she walked up to Pete and kissed him hard. Her hands reached up to cup his face while standing on tiptoe. She groaned the moment his arms wound around her, bringing her closer to him. Warmth spread from the deepest part of her chest and spread throughout her body. 

The kiss wasn’t forceful, but man did it do things to her insides. Katniss disengaged and took him by the hand, dragging him to her makeshift bedroom. 

“Katniss,” Pete raggedly uttered her name.

Katniss wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was correct. She didn’t have much, okay, in reality she knew zilch, zero, a big old donut hole about intimacy. The laws of attraction didn’t lend themselves to her until the day Pete Golightly came into her life.

She sat on the bed and scooted backward, trying to convey silently for Pete to come to her. Katniss wasn’t sure where this coquettish side to her came from. But Pete did things to her that made her want everything.

Her eyes scanned him as he stood by the foot of the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. If this were Gale he would have been the aggressor and that would have been like being thrown into a frozen lake in the middle of winter.  It’s not that Pete couldn’t be aggressive, he was massive.  His hands were warm and large, he was broad shouldered, strong, and taller than she was. Pete could probably bench press her caveman style, but he was sweet and polite, and  that drove Katniss wild.

She sat up on the bed and crooked her finger at him. 

Swiftly Peeta moved, coming to lay on top of her. She felt the moment he melted into her and she reveled in the power. They both gasped and moaned at the sensation of their bodies being pressed into one another. 

Katniss tilted her head slightly to kiss him and little currents of pleasure flowed from her mouth to her belly and  further south. Her hands grasped his face so that she could do something she’d heard about, kissing with tongue. It should have felt weird to have her tongue in his mouth. She instinctively sought entrance to his mouth and Pete gasped then angled his head and slowly opened his mouth for her. Her toes curled the moment his tongue greeted hers. Kissing was phenomenal, her new found favorite sport. Yes, it trumped archery. 

Her hands released his face and began to roam as they kissed. Katniss had a sneaky suspicion that Pete was some sort of athlete because his chest was firm. Her hand snaked under his shirt and she felt the ridges of his abdomen. Pete moaned and pulled away, his blue eyes wide. He looked dazed, a flush spread up to his cheeks.

She wasn't the type of girl who noticed that a guy was hot. Not that she was blind. Even though she didn’t like Gale. Katniss could admit to herself Gale wasn't an ogre. He was actually good-looking in that tall, dark and too handsome for his own good sort of way. She was just not attracted to him. She was one hundred percent attracted to Pete. And at this moment, all the naughty things she never thought of, never thought she would ever want to do, and had no time for, were rushing through her mind like one of those poorly written super trashy novella's Delly was so fond of reading. 

Katniss wanted the shirt to come off, she wanted for it all to come off, she wanted him naked. The word naked should have terrorized her, but in actuality it didn’t. She sat up and tugged up on his shirt. Pete pushed her hands down.

“Katniss we can’t.” Pete sounded like he had run up the steep hill carrying one of those 100lb crates of potatoes Greasy Sae had delivered to the restaurant. He sat back on his haunches. His eyes traveled over her and he shook his head. Katniss sorley wished she knew how to seduce. 

"Katniss," he said before he grimaced.

She frowned. 

“Your sister,” Pete said pointing up at the loft above. 

She’d forgotten about her impressionable baby sister. “Dagnabit!”

Pete smiled gently.

“I hate adulting.” 

“We all have to be adults.” 

She fell backwards onto her pillow, frustrated. Selfishly she did not want to stop. Realistically Pete was correct. Prim was a scant few feet away. She couldn't act like a typical 20-year-old. She had to be smarter, which is why she tucked all of those awakened me-want-sexy-time thoughts into a corner of her brain. A place where boring things resided, like matching clean socks, cleaning the oven, or pumping gas.

"Talk to me." Pete laid down next to her, not touching her, but just looking at her. It was comfortable, it was nice and yet those butterflies were acting like they were banging spoons and pots in her stomach. 

Talking was not her thing. As her court appointed family psychologist said, she was introverted, thoughtful and not someone who could eloquently speak unless pressured. This was partly because talking could lead to trouble. Katniss always reminded herself that until her sister turned eighteen, she had to be careful.

“You’re right,” Katniss sighed. “I can’t get carried away.”

“Believe me, it’s not easy walking away, but I get that you’re not ready for some things.” 

“You do something to me,” Katniss blurted. “There are these butterflies I get in my stomach whenever you’re around.”  She then realized how childish that sounded, she was twenty and not a thirteen year old girl.

He laughed. 

Yep Katniss thought, Pete thought her crazy.

“I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I am around you too.” 

“You do?” she was surprised.

“I do. You’re the sweetest most beautiful, bravest woman I have ever met. You are amazing.”

“I don’t know how to take that?” She was awestruck. She didn’t consider herself any of those things. Especially beautiful. She was not beautiful.

“Slowly like breathing. Let the words penetrate your heart slowly.”

Katniss nodded. “I just, I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t have the least idea about what or how I am supposed to act.”

“To be honest there isn’t one way to act; you just be yourself. If you’re not comfortable with something you tell me no or stop. Just like I pulled away and you respected my decision to pull away. I know this sounds like a cheesy movie line, but I like you, Katniss, I like you a lot. You are, and I keep saying this word, amazing, because I’m in awe of you.”

Words shouldn’t be that powerful but the way Pete wielded them caused her to want to rip his shirt and pans off and do stuff. What stuff she wasn’t sure, but stuff that people did in bed. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered what happened to the girl who a few weeks ago was grossed out at seeing two people make out in public. 

 He smiled and his blue eyes glowed. “I think you did a great job decorating too.”

“Now I know you’re crazy.”

“Given what you had to work with, you did amazing. Besides I’ve seen Prim’s loft…” Peeta grinned, the loft was a riot of baby blue, pinks, and purples. “Believe me you did a great job, even with your sister's space. Just enough chaos but enough organization to help a budding genius.”

“Oh no, she’s got you watching Pinky and the Brain?”

“Zoik!”

“Ugh,” Katniss said.

“What? I’m not a Brain, I’m more of a Pinky. Prim is the Brain.”

“Sometimes I am afraid about how smart Prim really is.” Katniss sighed. “Do you know she knew her periodic table before she turned three? She can spout all of the weights of the elements and is in advanced calculus and physics in school. I’ve asked her if she wanted to move on, you know, to a higher grade, but she said no because she wanted to grow up normal.” Katniss sighed. “She’s had so much disruption in her life. I just want her to have as typical a childhood as possible.”

Pete leaned in and kissed her soundly. Katniss sighed. 

He leaned away. “I would like to take you out on a date.”

“When?” She scooted closer to him.

“What about Friday?” He scooted closer to her.

“S’okay.”  She moved closer, so close she could see the pale specks in his blue eyes.

“Cool.” He gently enfolded her in his arms. 

She’d never been held before, and it was better than ice cream on a warm July evening.

-THE SCENT

It took Claudius the entire day to track down Morph. Even with a stupid name, no one in this forsaken side of town knew the scrawny strung out kid. He went to every single gas station and no one could identify him. 

Claudius was frustrated. Viciously glad the only thing he wasted was chump change. He was going to pack it up when he came upon a run down gas station near the border. It was a sad place. The kind of place people were murdered or bodies appeared. With a broken lamp and one gasoline pump because the other one had a white paper taped to it with the words ‘out of service’ hastily scribbled on it.

Claudius went inside and was struck dumbfounded when there sitting behind a laminated counter sat Morph.

“Morph,” Claudius said.

“Yeah.”

“Judy sent me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Morph nodded. His eyes looked unfocused and even in the dim light of the interior his irises were fully dilated.

Crap, Claudius thought, the idiot is high.

“Judy,” Morph said grinning.

“Do you remember why Judy sent me here?” Claudius wondered if this was going to be another dead end.

“Yeah.”

“And.” 

“Oh.” Morph waited a moment. “Yeah.”

Claudius would rather get shot during a root canal.  “Look kid, have you seen him,” Claudius took the tabloid from off the wrack and pointed to Peeta.

Morph blinked. “He was here, he paid for gas, cash.”

“He did?” 

Morph held out his phone screen to Claudius. The thrill of the chase running through his veins. He showed him the picture of Peeta’s side profile. He was wearing the same baseball cap and sunglasses he wore in Judy’s picture. Morph then pulled his phone back and stared blankly.

“Can you tell me what direction he took?”

Morph turned his head. “Yeah.”

“Well.”

“He headed toward Panem.” 

“Panem?” Claudius was struck. “Are you sure he didn’t head toward Canada?”

Morph took out his phone and swiped. 

There on the screen was a picture of Peeta’s car with the license plate heading toward the Panem border. Claudius took the idiots phone and sent himself the pictures. He slapped a 20 on the laminate counter. 

Claudius pumped his gas but mentally he chanted, “Gotcha.”

 -CONSPIRATORS

“Good morning,” Prim said from over her bowl of cornflakes.

Pete grinned. The time on the microwave read 5AM. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Morning Prim.”  He and Katniss fell asleep in her room. He hadn’t woken up until this moment. Katniss was still sleeping. 

“So you and my sister,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows.

“Prim.” 

She grinned then made little kissy faces.  

“First, you are too young to think that way. Secondly, I respect your sister far too much…well, to push her into something she is not ready for.”  

“Please, there’s no need for an explanation. I know you guys didn’t do anything. I came downstairs around eleven and both of you were snoring. You, by the way, drooled on her pillow.”

Peeta rubbed his face. He had a sinking suspicion Prim was going to hold this over him. 

Prim smiled but as she continued slurping her milk.  

“Your sister,” Peeta said, sighing. “I really…I...like her alot, more than a lot actually.”

“Listen Peeta,” Prim said. “You make my sister happy and she makes you happy.”

“Prim,” Peeta hushed Prim. “You can’t use my real name.”

Prim rolled her eyes. 

She was the only one who had figured out who he was within seconds of meeting him. She waited until they were alone and then she began to grill him like a well done steak. He had been going to Sae’s diner for one of her infamous soups, but he also liked to watch Katniss. She was graceful. The way she walked around people without making sound or spilling drinks or bowls. He had been trying to gather the courage to speak to her. 

One day Prim showed up and his entire ruse was over. 

Katniss wasn’t the only Everdeen to be protective. Prim was like a mama bear around Katniss.  Her attitude toward her older caused Peeta to have a deep appreciation for Katniss. That she sacrificed so much for her sister was humbling. Peeta wished he could use all of his money and connections to help out the sisters. 

However as he got to know both of them, he knew neither sister would take money from him. These two were fighters, they were a team. When Prim figured out he wasn’t playing with her sister’s heart, she was a mini bulldozer pushing them together. Prim was, as Katniss stated, frighteningly intelligent.  

“You mean Peeta?” Prim said it louder.

“Prim, keep it down.” 

“My sister sleeps like the dead. And you owe me cheese buns.”

Peeta sighed. He’d forgotten the bet, which Prim won. Last night they did end up making out. He couldn’t help the buzzing in his body at the memory of the way Katniss silver eyes turned like liquid mercury when she was aroused. “Okay, we’ll have to go over to my place.”

“Why?” Katniss walked into the kitchen, her hair askew. Her sleepy face was adorable. 

Peeta walked to her and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Good morning. I’m making cheese buns.”

“Why?” Katniss yawned.

“Because, you should never make a bet against an Everdeen.” Prim winked. “I’m going to grab my clothing and stuff. I’ll pack something for Katniss too.”

Katniss frowned, watching her sister walk toward the loft. 

Peeta couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face and properly kissed Katniss. She hummed, groaned and moaned all at once. 

She gazed up at him with awe and with the embers of desire. “I lost a bet to Primrose, and now I owe her cheese bun.”

“She shouldn’t be doing that, but your buns are well worth it.”

“You like my buns?” Peeta hoped she meant something else entirely.

Katniss slipped her hand around to his butt and squeezed him briefly before sassily winking at him. “Yup I just love your buns.” 

Peeta laughed. And kissed her swiftly, feeling like he had come home.

-THE OUTRAGE

Gale wanted to rip the backyard tree from it’s trunk when he woke up to see Pete coming out of the apartment early this morning.  They were laughing and holding hands. 

Hi misery could only be accompanied by the rage he felt. 

Katniss was supposed to his girl. 

Gale closed his eyes momentarily as pain shot through him. He opened them to see the lovers wrapped up in each other. What hurt the most was that, this wasn’t sex, they weren’t fucking for fun. The way they held one another as they kissed, denoted tenderness, deep care, gentleness, and soft yielding toward the other. 

Gale tore his eyes away. He loathed Pete Golightly for taking the one girl he thought belonged to him. The one girl he wanted. 

Katniss might never be his, but he was never going to accept them as a couple. 

-THE HUNT

Peeta Mellark was smart, but Claudius was smarter. With the plates he was able to trace the car.  Peeta had turned his car into this obscure car rental in Panem’s Capitol. While he couldn’t confirm that Peeta rented a car, he showed the girl the picture from Morph’s phone. It was imperative he got that first picture of Peeta Mellark. It was now worth nearly 300 Grand. And Claudius wanted to sit on a throne made of money.

“Yeah, I’m trying to trace down my nephew. My brother had a heart attack and my nephew he’s on one of those retreats you go wireless.”

The perky blonde’s eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, are you alright?”

Bingo! Claudius said to himself. People were inherently good, well unless you were a bastard like him, but in reality they wanted to be helpful and that’s where he, the bastard, preyed upon them. “I am okay, my brother,” he added enough emphasis on the word brother to allude that he was mortally grave. “I just hope to find my nephew before…” He trailed off.

“Oh, I can’t give you information, because it’s private.”

Claudius grinned, “Yeah, of course,” he said pumping something close to sincerity in voice. “Could you tell me if someone has seen him if I describe my nephew to you?”

“Sure I can totally do that.” 

“Great, you have no idea how much this means to me.” 

-THE CONFRONTATION

Gale walked into Greasy Sae’s. He found Katniss briskly walking between tables, serving coffee.

He sat in her section, at the counter and waited patiently as the crowd thinned and she came behind the counter.

“Gale,” Katniss said, her lips were thinned into a tight smile. “What can I get for you today?”

“Coffee,” Gale’s eyes slid down her form. He recalled what she looked like in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She had a slight build, small breast and a small ass too. He thought before that outfit she had a boy's body, but he was wrong.  That was the summer before her parents died. “And you.”

Katniss plopped the coffee saucer on the table and then said, “I’m not on the menu.”

“Well you’re sure on Golightly’s menu.”

Her eyes widened before she narrowed them. “That’s none of your damned business.”

“What? That you’ve been whoring yourself to him?”  He reached out and snagged her wrist.

“Let go of me.” she tugged.

He tightened his grip, now that he had her, Gale couldn’t let go. He was fascinated by the silvery color of her eyes, the way her pert nose wrinkled. Once again, he thought she wasn’t beautiful, hell, she wasn’t even pretty, but there was this pull about her. One he could not let go, even though she was with that man.

“You’re hurting me,” Katniss whispered struggling.

“Gale Hawthorne,” Delly Cartwright said, slapping him upside the head.

Gale blinked and released his hold on Katniss. He frowned looking at the fat cow Cartwright.

“You let her go or I will call my cousin to arrest you for manhandling.” Delly’s voice was high and squeaky.

He realized everyone was looking at him. Embarrassed he pushed back his hat and said, “I don’t want anything from the likes of her.”

Katniss held her wrist protectively. Her eyes were a glittery silver. Her scowl was in place and he knew that if she had her bow she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

“You okay?” Delly asked Katniss.

Gale scoffed looking at Katniss's wrist. “She’s not even bruised.”

“Get,” Delly said.

Gale saw that a few of the other residents stood up, their demeanor letting him know that they were backing the girls.

“I’ll be back.”

“No you won’t, I’m going to tell Greasy, and when she hears about this you’ll be banned,” Delly put her finger at the center of his chest.

Gale left, but he swore Katniss was going to pay for embarrassing him.

-THE DATE

Katniss was nervous. She looked at her wrist, glad she didn’t have a bruise after Gale manhandled her at work yesterday. She sighed and put the incident behind her. She wanted to focus on her date tonight with Peeta. Twirling to the side she fretted about the dress, was it too short, was it too revealing? She wasn’t sure about the color. 

“You’ve got to relax, Katniss.”

Katniss swung around to face her sister. “You’ve got everything?”

“Yeah,” Prim said, rolling her eyes.

“Prim,” Katniss forgot to worry about her date with the worry about her baby sister.

“Katniss,” Prim grabbed her cheeks between her hands. “I AM GOING TO BE FINE!”

Katniss frowned. It was a night of firsts. She was going on a date with Pete, and her sister was going to her first slumber party with her friend Ginnee at the new girl Coral’s house. Katniss had met Coral’s parents yesterday when Prim came home with the coveted birthday party invite. Coral’s parents were from District Four and they thought a slumber party would help Coral make new friends at her new school.

Katniss thought Coral was okay, it was Ginnee, she didn’t trust. Ginnee had older sisters and brothers. She was astute and as slippery as a snake. Katniss frankly did not trust the intrepid twelve year old girl who would soon turn thirteen. “If anything even remotely happens or you feel uncomfortable you will…” Prim gave her a look that caused Katniss to amend her choice of words. “…can call me.”

“I will.”

There was a horn outside.

“Stop grimacing. It’s just Ginnee.”

“Ginnee,” Katniss muttered under her breath. “Just be careful, and have a good time.”

Prim grinned before she slipped her backpack on her back and sprinted out toward the waiting car. 

Katniss stood outside looking like the proverbial mother hen with one arm wrapped around her middle the other lifted in a half-hearted wave. She couldn’t stop her sister from growing up.

As she stood there, Pete’s car pulled up. He came out wearing a nice dark blazer, white crisp shirt, and khakis. He clutched in his hands a bouquet of wildflowers. Where and when he got them she didn’t know. All she could think about was the shy yet sizzling smile Pete sent her way. And the breath she held when Prim left wooshed out of her.

“Hi,” she croaked.

“You look great,” he gushed.

Katniss looked down at the orange wrap dress Prim demanded Katniss splurge on and buy for tonight. “Thanks. You look nice.”

He grinned at her and that was how her control snapped. She stepped up to him and kissed him wildly. She moaned when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. She was correct; kissing Pete was better than the thirty-one ice cream flavors Baskin Robbins boasted. “Oh Pete…”

Pete pulled back and sighed. “If we don’t get out of here now, I am going to carry over my shoulder and bring you inside, Katniss.”

Katniss raised an eyebrow, feeling emboldened and brazenly she said, “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

Pete groaned.

“But,” Katniss said, liking how her words affected him. She wickedly said, “I suppose if you want to spoil me for a nice meal, before I plunder you later on…”

“Do you not understand I am trying to be a gentleman?” His eyes were wide and wild.

Katniss wanted to sound coquettish, but she ended up telling him the truth in a rushed tortured tone of voice. “You’re not the only one holding on to restraint.”

Katniss watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “I am trying to think of everything that is disgusting and unappealing to make me come down back to earth and continue with dinner.”

“You are?”

“Katniss my brain short circuits any time you’re near, and when you kiss me I can’t even function. I have to literally sing the twelve days of Christmas in my head to calm down.”

“The twelve days of Christmas?” She couldn’t help the way a smile formed on her face.

“I have to keep on telling myself that you’re not ready, that this is moving way to fast-“

She didn’t let him finish. “What if I am ready to be with you?” It was impulsive and she was not sorry she said the truth.

“Are you sure?” He looked scared, almost reverent.

“I am, but if you’re not ready, then I’ll wait,” she said into his lips because he kissed her fiercely and such intensity that she was left breathless.

“Food,” he muttered when he pulled away. “Need food to keep up.”

He took her hand and tugged her along. The dinner that followed was uncomfortable in that they both wanted to go home and tear each other’s clothing off. Katniss couldn’t recall what she chose or what he ordered. The only thing she wanted wasn’t on the menu. 

When they got to her apartment the thin wall of restraint broke and they were kissing wildly.

“Slow, must go slow,” Pete said as he struggled with pulling off his shirt without unbuttoning it.

Katniss chuckled at his eagerness. A smooth operator Pete was not, but she didn’t mind. She slowed him down by putting her hand on his chest and tugging his shirt down. Quietly she undid the buttons. His breath was labored while hers was calm. She was more than turned on, her underwear were ruined, to be fair, and her nipples stood at attention in her bra. She was the inexperienced one, but at that moment, Pete was the one with jumbled nerves and that made her feel excited, yet calm.

His eyes darkened when she removed his shirt and her hands slid up his chest. Her heart was a riot inside of her chest. Her blood pressure, no doubt, through the roof. Her mouth watered at the sight of his abs. She understood why when women said six-pack they went haywire. On impulse she kissed his chest and licked his pec and Pete roughly called her name.

“Off,” she said, tugging his pants.

Pete's hands flew to his pants and her eyes were riveted to his hands as the zipper came down. Katniss shivered now she began to pant. Her mouth opened and her eyes widened at the sight of him. “OH,” she said. Her hands reached out to touch him, but she glanced up to see if this was alright.

Pete tersely nodded.

Her hand wrapped around him and she sighed along with his groan. He was long and thick, and his tip wept with pre-cum.

“Katniss, I want to see you,” Pete’s voice sounded low and dangerous and she shivered.

Katniss leveled a look at him as she placed her hand on the ties of her wrap dress. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“May I?”

“Okay,” she gasped, dropping her hands. She was by this point unable to talk. The anticipation was getting to her.

Pete’s eyes were hooded and dark as his hands tugged on the knot at the front of her dress. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.”

Her dress slid open and it slid off her skin smoothly like chocolate melting in one’s mouth.

Pete made a strangled cry at the sight of her. Emboldened by his reaction she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting the straps fall slowly revealing her breasts to him. His hands trembled when he reached out to touch her, but he sought her permission. 

“May I,” his voice sounded hoarse.

She nodded, but he just stood there staring at her. Unwilling to wait anymore she took his hand and slid it to her waiting breast. His touch sent her over the edge and her head snapped back and she moaned his name.

His free hand brought her closer and the press of flesh to flesh was an explosion more powerful than any force of nature. Their mouths met greedily, wildly, taking, giving, needing, and raising the temperature between them. She was a blaze for him and he was ablaze for her. He picked her up and mouths still fused, her fingers in his soft wavy hair. She pulled and played with the strands as they somehow landed on her bed. His mouth disengaged from hers once they were laying on the bed him on top looking down at her wantonly.

His lips began a decent down, his tongue tasting, lapping, tracking a path downward leaving her to be a wriggling mess. She called his name fervently as a tight coil wound deep within her womb. He paused at the juncture of her thighs. She could feel his hot breath on her inner thigh. When his fingers brushed along her soaked panties, she jumped.

“I want to taste you,” he said. His eyes flickered from her face to the crotch of her panties.

Katniss fisted her hands into the sheets. She’d accidently read about this in one of Delly’s books. She’d picked it up one day curious as to why Delly found them so appealing. What she read shocked her men kissing a woman between their legs sounded unsanitary. But right now, in this moment, with the way Pete was looking at her as if she was the most delicious plate of food it was the one thing she wanted. “Please,” she gasped.

Pete inched her panties down as if he was unwrapping a present and Katniss was relieved when her underwear were off and lay bare with her legs spread before him. He looked predatorial and yet worshipful. His hands slid up her thighs and a thousand points of electric pleasure raced to her core. And when she kissed her there, and she felt his tongue taste her and she yelled and thrashed wildly, her body shaking as he tasted her.

“Perfect,” he muttered, “delicious,” were words he repeated when he gasped for air.

Katniss didn’t care as she felt herself burn brighter and brighter, the coiling sensation whirled within her until her skin burned and she combusted with a loud sound and moisture seeped out of her.

She was barely back to herself before Pete began his onslaught again. This time, adding a finger, then another and like a dam, she burst over and over until she was a raw nerve, quaking needing more, desiring him to fill her empty spaces. The ones in her heart, mind, soul and body.

She called out his name, pulling him up to her so she could kiss him. His hands touched her and explored her body as they rolled around in the bed. Her hands also drifted over him. Her short nails scraping over his body, soft but hard, brushing over the hair that traveled down his belly button, downward to his cock. She grasped him, but Pete pulled away.

“I want you,” she growled.

His grin was instant. Then he said, “condom…”

Katniss was frustrated when he pulled away to find the offensive item that took Pete away from her. She was bereft without his warmth, and his heavenly body.  

When he returned back to her his eyes focused on her body. With fire she opened her legs, an open invitation.

“Fuck,” Pete said. His hand ran through his hair, and once more his lips descended upon her center until she was screaming his name. And when he crawled up pinning her to the bed she was a disarray of sensations primed and ready. With gentleness he lined them up before his body dipped into hers. Tears slipped from her eyes as she felt cherished, wanted, and loved.

His eyes conveyed that and more as she was split open and her mind flashed to the first moment she saw him come into the diner. The way he looked lost and bewildered when he first set eyes on her. The way his hands shook after their first kiss.

“Katniss are you alright?”

Katniss was sure, “Yes.”

“I’m not hurting you?” he gasped as she flexed muscles she didn’t know she had.

She shook her head. And with that he began moving within her and stole her breath away. Being with Pete was more than a treat, it was life altering, soul shaking. He was trying to make her feel good and there were a few times she felt the stirring, but her body was too raw and frayed to really be engaged.

“Katniss,” he panted, “you’re not with me.”

“It’s okay, let go,” she urged.

“But..” he groaned.

She gripped his butt and scraped her nails and he shouted.

She loved to watch him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t come again. She was well satisfied when she saw him lose his mind when he came. That was her new favorite memory. A memory to remove all of the bad ones.

Nothing else mattered because she had fallen in love with Pete.

-LA LIVING

Haymitch ran his hands through his hair. Whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity should have been stuffed with the food from the first episode of that food network show America's worst cooks.

A month and a half had passed and still Peeta’s name was on the lips of every single exec, studio chief, or big time producer. They wanted Peeta to be in their next production. The Oscar talk in tinsel town was at a fevered pitch and with only one person leading the pack, his client, the kid.

He sat back in his chair. He had other clients, but the kid, he was special. Because unlike the other butter nutters that he dealt with, Peeta was a good kid. He was wholesome. Too darned good for this business.

His secretary buzzed in, “Mr. Abernathy.”

“Yeah,” Haymitch bit out.

“They are calling,” his secretary said with resigned annoyance.

 Haymitch gritted his teeth. The studio was calling.

“Fudge,” Haymitch said. He’d given up his two favorite pastimes, drinking and swearing. The drinking because when he found himself lying on top of a train track in the middle of nowhere with a train horn blasting in the distance. It had been time to get help. Two the cursing, it reminded him of the bars. There was something about a good curse word that brought images of a smooth malt whisky. So as part of his sobriety, he gave up cursing.

“You want me to tell them you’re not here,” his secretary sounded giddy as if she wanted to tell them what bridge they can use to take a flying leap from.

“No. Put them through.” He could only imagine what they wanted.

“Abernathy!”

“Ravenstill,” Haymitch greeted.

“I just wanted to tell you that this Agatha Christine stunt is the best thing that has happened. We are two months away from the Oscar Nominations; his name is like gold. Not to mention the movie has been number one for six weeks and has done phenomenally well internationally.”

Haymitch could hear P. Ravenstille the Third calculating the money in his head. To men and women like Ravenstille it was all about the money, not about the kid who had had enough to leave. 

“I just want him found before the Oscar nomination,” Ravenstill said.

“Is that all?” 

“Yes, good job. I’m sending a few clients your way, Abernathy. See what you can do for their careers.” 

With that Ravenstill was gone. 

Sighing deeply, Haymitch thought to himself, it was time to begin some digging of his own. He needed to find the kid.

-THE BUBBLE

A few days later Pete made her scream so much that the tension rods gave way and fell. Maybe it was the force of the bed hitting the wall, but it didn’t matter because coming with him buried deep within her walls shook her world. She couldn’t form a simple sentence afterwards. She was glad that afternoon, Prim had been next door playing video games with Vick and Rory.

It all came about because of laundry. She was making plies gearing up for laundry day. By the time she mentioned dryer sheets her underwear was hanging from the corner of the refrigerator. Peeta had a serious kink about laundry.

When Prim came home, she stopped and looked at both of them, as they made dinner. Her eyes narrowed. She looked suspicious.

“Why is your hair wet, Pete?” Prim asked.

Pete looked so embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with a single word.

“Prim go wash up. Dinner will be done in a few minutes,” Katniss shooed her away needing to quickly redirect her sister.

“But his hair is all wet,” Prim said.

This was going to be harder than corralling baby chicks. “We were playing with water Prim,” Katniss said.

“Wait, you had a water fight and didn’t invite me!” Prim sounded outraged.

“I’m sorry, you were so busy playing victory of something or other with Vick,” Katniss teased. It wasn’t a lie; she and Pete did play with water. A steamy game of hide the soap.

Prim twisted her face, and sounded like Daffy Duck, “You’re despicable.”

“I know,” Katniss winked. “Now go wash your hands.”

Pete raised an eyebrow.

Katniss felt the way her cheeks stung as she blushed. “I didn’t lie, we were playing with water.”

Pete’s throaty laugh made her wish they were alone.

-TINSEL TOWN CALL

“Haymitch darling!” Caesar Flickerman's excited voice made Haymitch want to stand in the center of oncoming traffic. The man was so cheerful it gave him a toothache.

“Flick, I’ve got an exclusive.” Haymitch said, jumping in his car.

“Rrrreally,” Caesar rolled his r’s like a cat purring. Caesar's real name was Pertanio Rodriguez, he changed his name to sound more commercial. But he emulated Walter Mercado, a famous and beloved astrologer. Despite his Liberace-like appearance, Caesar was one of the smartest interviewers.  

“Let’s just say I’m cashing in that favor, you owe me.” Haymitch slipped his glasses on. The black and white grainy pictures of a blond Peeta Mellark and a dark haired beauty were on his passenger side.

“You mean you know where Peeta Mellark is?”

“Yeah, I want you to get ready to move, and I mean move fast.” Haymitch knew everything, thanks to Finnick. He followed Pete Golightly to District Twelve and that’s where he found him playing house with a girl. Haymitch needed to spin this fast, because he guessed if he found Peeta this fast there were others who were on his trail. “The kid’s in love, and it’s why he left. To help his lady love.”

“OHHHHH,” Caesar said.

“Yeah, star crossed, flipping flip flop, lovers.”

 -THE APPROACH

Claudius was tired, but he knew he was getting close. He could taste it as he drove off the ferry into District Twelve. The island was small, mostly filled with rocky hills. This was the type of place where cousins kissed and everyone was related.

His proof? As he drove into town all he could see was tan and olive-skinned people, with slick black hair and light eyes. Yep, he was in an inbred clusterfuck. It was evening, and the sun was dipping low, closing on another day. It was starting to get cold.

The rented car needed gas; he drove it through the Capitol and eleven of the thirteen districts. He wanted nothing more than to find a hotel, get a hot meal, and a shower.

Pulling into the gas station a taller version of the inbred came out.

“Forty dollars regular.” Claudius offered the kid the two bills. He was looking at his emails. There was still no sight of Peeta Mellark.

He scowled. “You’re tearing the engine with regular.”

The growl snapped Claudius from perusing his phone. The kid looked like he could bench press him. “Fine.”

 “Ass,” the hot-tempered giant said.

“Look, I'm looking for someone. He’s medium height, blue eyes, broad shoulders…a chin that makes women swoon.”

The kid raised an eyebrow.

“Look, he kinda looks like Peeta Mellark the movie star,” Claudius doubted the giant had two brain cells that held a note of intelligence. “Do you know anyone who looks like that?”

The giant’s eyes widened and he growled, “I do.”

“You do, great!”

“Who the hell are you?”

Suddenly Claudius saw the kids eyes turn cold and calculating, and Claudius thought huh, he was wrong, the giant was smart.

“I’m a reporter, my name is Claudius.” Claudius took out his card and gave it to the giant. “I’m looking for him, you know where he is?”

“How much is it worth to you?”

“Sure, 50K,” Claudius said.

“100 Grand,” the giant countered.

“60..” the kids hand curled into a fist, and Claudius raised his price, his voice going up an octave. “70…5…75 Grand.”

“Good, name’s Gale.”

“Gale,” Claudius said, not sure if this kid was going to lead him to Peeta Mellark or  into the mountains and skin him alive.

“Meet me tomorrow,” Gale said scribbling the address on the back of his receipt.

“If this is…”

“You want Mellark, right?” Gale asked.

“Yeah, well meet me there tomorrow morning. Early, or you won’t catch him.”

Claudius knew there was a story here, “Why?”

“Look, this district is so small about half a dozen people already know that you’re here. The news will get to him quickly and he’ll leave. Do you want that?”

“No.” Claudius felt like he was back in third grade being chastised by his thick legged hairy teacher Mrs. Gaul.

“Good, then drive four miles, make a left on Chicory lane and stop at number 451, and tell the goat man I sent you. He’ll take care of you tonight. Meet me tomorrow before five at this address.

-THE CALM

Katniss awoke slowly, she was surrounded, cocooned in a delicious warmth and manly scent. Their first date led to her sleeping with him. Heat spread throughout her body as she recalled the way it felt to have him deep inside her, the way her body split and widened to accommodate him. His look was a blend of worry and bliss. Seeing him come undone was one of her new favorite things to do.

Of course Pete confessed his favorite thing to do was making her orgasm over and over.

“How is it you’re not sleeping?”

His sleep roughened voice caused gooosebumps to appear up and down her body.

“Well, I have to go get Prim, she’s at Coral’s house.”

“Right,” Pete rubbed his eyes.

“Pete, you don’t have to go.”

Pete looked at his phone, “Katniss it’s not even five in the morning.”

“It isn’t?” Katniss looked at his phone. “I forgot the whole time-change thing.”

Pete laughed, “Well that gives us time...”

Katniss turned and saw him leering at her and she gasped and laughed as Pete attacked her lips.

-THE SNARE

Gale couldn’t believe his nemesis was none other than the ‘goody-toO-shoes’ Hollywood star; Peeta Mellark was Pete Golightly. It was the same blue eyes, chin, build, height, even his smile was the same. Only his hair was different. Peeta’s blond hair didn’t look like a bottle dye job though. He looked like a natural blond. Either way, Gale wanted to smack himself on the back of his head. His anger had blinded him and he hadn’t made the connection; the missing Hollywood star was hiding here in District Twelve, and now that Hollywood star had seduced the one clueless girl on the entire island that he, Gale, desired.

Gale looked at his phone. Claudius, the reporter was late. Gale had googled the guy last night. Claudius was legit. He worked as an independent photographer for Snow Incorporated; Coriolanus Snow owned several tabloid magazines, and a few reputable newspapers. 

For once Gale was glad Katniss' sister wasn’t at home. He knew Prim wasn’t in the apartment. Vick, his little brother said she was having a slumber party this weekend. Prim shouldn’t have to pay for her sister's indiscretion. 

A cold breeze slipped by. It was cold outside, and it looked like snow was on the way.

Pete or rather Peeta, was inside with Katniss.   

Gale wondered if Katniss knew who Pete really was and if that was why she’d let him into her inner circle. Maybe she was attracted to his fame and fortune. If that was the case, and Katniss turned out to be one of those girls, then what chance did he, a mechanic, have. She would never go for him. And that is why he was waiting for the reporter.

He wanted her to hurt the way he hurt.

He wanted her to be embarrassed the way he was embarrassed at her denial of what he wanted.

He wasn't an idiot. He was smart.

And with the money he was about to make he certainly didn’t want a cheap hussy like Katniss by his side. He was going to get himself a good girl, a girl who wanted him for more than just his looks and money. 

Gale spotted the reporter’s car as it pulled up silently.

“What kind of Blair Witch Project kind of road is this? I swear I was afraid I was going to fall into a ditch and die a few times.” 

“You made it, didn’t you?”

Claudius sighed, “Yeah.”

“You got the money?”

“I need the goods,” Clausidius said.

“Look, I know you think I’m some backward hick living in a hole in the wall, but I know that if you don’t pay me, the best picture you’ll get of Mellark is a picture of him from behind, leaving this house. What I got planned is going to make you notorious.” Gale held up the extra set of keys to the rental. 

The reporter grimaced, but looked at the keys. “Fine,” Claudius said. He got out of his car and pulled out a messenger bag full of  money and handed it to Gale. 

“That's half, that's all I have with me,” Claudius said. 

“Once I get the picture, I’ll get you the other half.”

“Then let's go,” Gale said, striding forward.

-THE STORM

Peeta lazily let his hands drift over Katniss’ arm. They were cuddling, spooning. Her delicious backside was pressed up against his front. She was half-asleep, lulled by their last round of love making. 

Prim told him last night that he needed to tell Katniss the truth.  He was scared. But as Prim said, Katniss knew him. She knew the real him and not the poster board flashy grinning guy he had to portray in the media. Everything was pretend in Hollywood and over the top. He wanted something real and he found it in her. 

His heart melted for her. He was in love for the first time in his life. He loved and was in love with Katniss and this morning he was going to tell Katniss the truth about who he was.

“Katniss,” he whispered into her cheek. 

“Mmmm,” she moans sleepily.  

“Come on, Everdeen,” he nipped at her neck, chin, and earlobe. 

“Go away,” she snuggles into the bed. 

“Katniss,” he tried again. “I’m going to make you cheese buns.”

“Mmmm, cheese buns.”

“And my real name is Peeta Mellark,” he said quietly. 

Her eyes opened, just as the curtains to her room opened and the flash of a camera went off. 

“PEETA MELLARK,” Cluadius shouts as he takes pictures. “Is she what made you leave Hollywood!”

Peeta took his shirt and covered Katniss before he leapt from the bed and pushed Caludius out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.

“Gale?” Katniss asked behind him. 

Peeta saw the tall lanky neighbor with a pleased grin in the shadows as Claudius took pictures. His first instinct was to punch the idiot, because he knew it was Gale that sold them out. His second instinct was to call in the calvary, Haymitch.  

-THE FRENZY

"My sister. They're going to take my sister away," Katniss whispered, pacing back and forth.

“Katniss, I am sorry about this,” Pete says, running his hand through his blond hair. 

She can’t stop the worrying. Then she paused and stared at the man she’d fallen in love, the man who lied to her. “You were trying to tell me...before that...that.”

“I wanted to be honest with you.” He stood and came to stand near her. 

Suddenly she was filled with questions, all of them starting with the word, why. "How did you come up with your name Pete Golightly?”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Audrey Hepbrun’s name is Holly Golightly. It’s the name I use whenever I check into hotels. I changed my name slightly and used Golightly. Only one person knows my alias, a fail safe in case someone needs to reach me in an emergency.” 

“Huh,” Katniss cocked her head. She didn’t like old movies and frankly had never seen it. But she was familiar with the posters of Audry Hepurn standing in front of the jewelry store.  “Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the girl with the black dress.”

“That’s the one.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because." He waits a beat before he says, "I was in hiding. I didn’t want to burden you with  knowing. Besides, no one needs me."

Katniss couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. How could anyone not want him, need him.

“But you’re a movie star?” Katniss whispered, wondering how she missed out on the reality that he was Peeta Mellark, the movie star. She had a poster of him when she was younger. But she blinked to focus. Pete was really Peeta. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what she knew about him. She'd seen him during these last few weeks, tested his metal. Carefully she made a list of the things she knew about Peeta, the man. He was smart, strong, generous, kind, sweet, good. At the last word she stopped. Peeta was beyond, just, plain ol' good. He had an inherent goodness that was at the center of his being, and people didn’t see it because they were taken in by the fame.

“Exactly.” He gave her a pointed look. “They need my money, notoriety, fame...but no one needs me. My family,” his voice sounds bitter laced with disappointment. "They only need me and use me for the money in my bank account. My mother sold the spare key to my house for a fee to the tabloids. They went through my home and splayed it in Snow’s publications for the world to see.  When I asked why, my mother said it was because I was a selfish, weak chinned, dumbass who she was going to sue for lost wages. As we speak her lawyers are filing paperwork.” 

He sighed and his eyes saddened. Katniss could see how broken and lost he was, and Katniss reached out to touch his hand. She wonders what kind of woman would do that to her own child.  Katniss had no idea. she didn't read the tabloids or watched shows about movie stars and their sordid lives. She was too busy trying to put food on the table and keep a roof over her and her sister’s heads. 

Sad blue eyes met her fiery silver ones. Katniss wanted to tuck him away and keep him safe.

“I left Hollywood because I was burnt out. I thought no one cared for me. I do not need attention, as Haymitch will attest to, I hate the attention, but I love the work. However, people want the movie star.  They don’t want me Peeta, the guy who would rather hang out, paint or experiment with food. I only have two friends Haymitch, which you’re about to meet and I am apologizing for what Haymitch is, and Finnick Odair.  Yes, that Finnick Odair who runs around in his movies, half naked, half the time."

Kathiss wrinkled her nose at the image of the guy with the Jason Mamoa body, and the devil may care grin. He was, in Delly's words, melt your panties hot. But Katniss didn't find him interesting. "I've been forced to watch a few of his movies."

His eyes lighted and his lips formed a smile at the word forced. 

"Delly." Katniss shrugged. "She thinks he is sultry, but he's not my type." She watched his eyes process the information. "So if you don't have that many friends..." her voice drifted. Gleaning his information about his family, she formulated the question. Katniss didn't have a lot of friends. There was only Delly and Madge. But she also had Prim, her only family,  and even her pacifist her sister would punch bees for her. "What do you do?"

"I sit home most of the time doing laundry. Perfecting my fitted sheet fold."

"You have a thing about laundry."

"Just yours," his heated look caused her pulse racing.

"Peeta," she chastised. He smiled mischievously and picked up the bra that she'd been looking for.

Intense heat flooded her cheeks. She imagined she had to be redder than the child of a tomato and a cherry. She snatched it from his hands. "You need to get back to Hollywood...and why you left."

Peeta cleared his throat. "I really don't do the whole Hollywood thing. I don't party. I don't drink and I don't do drugs. Most of my nights I hang out with Finn and his wife Annie. I do a lot of laundry for Annie. They have an adorable lil boy, a toddler, named Finian. Fin for short, who loves mud. I do their laundry for fun. But outside of them, like I said,  I have no one and I know that no one wants me, so I walked away. I didn’t think anyone would hunt me down. I am sorry.”

Katniss didn’t have a voice momentarily, so she continued to listen.

“I came here, intending to hide out for a few days and then head to District Thirteen. Then I walked into Greasy Sae’s and I couldn’t breath when I saw you and weirdly parallel stalked you…and then I met Prim.”

“What about Prim?” Katniss needed to know everything. It would serve her right that, her super intelligence off the charts, baby sister would figure who Pete really was.

“Prim knows, she figured me out. Within seconds...she knew all of my media history. She's tough, made me sweat.”  

Katniss chuckled. Her baby sister could be exasperating and could be terrifying when she turned on, what Katniss called her smart factor. Prim was a computer able to make calculations about all sorts of things. Katniss was the only one who could match her sister when engaged. But it also reminds Katniss of the pictures of her naked with Peeta.  "Oh the pictures. This isn't good Pete...Peeta."

"Katniss trust me, we'll figure a way out. I swear. My manager Haymitch will know what to do.” Peeta's voice was reassuring.

“No, you don’t understand the state; they will see this as me being irresponsible. They will take my sister away and put her in foster care.” Katniss couldn’t help the way her voice rose. Everything was spinning out of control.  She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her face.

“Listen to me. Haymitch is almost here. He said he has a plan.” He gathered her in his arms and she sighed and trembled. 

All she ever wanted was to make her sister feel safe. She wanted to make her sister feel as if nothing else could go wrong. She closed her eyes. Now she couldn’t do that because a paparazzi had taken naked pictures of her and Pete...Peeta. Naked pictures that would be splashed and splayed all over tabloids and news media outlets.  

Pictures that weren’t Peeta’s fault, but Gale’s. 

Gale sold Peeta out.

“Pete, I mean Peeta,” Katniss couldn’t hide her misery. “Those pictures, they’re going to use them against me. They are going to use them against you too.”

His eyes warmed. 

His cell phone beeped.  He looks at his phone. “Delly’s here.”  Delly was bringing Prim home. There was another ping. He frowned looking at the phone then said, “...and so is Haymitch.”

He gave her a look, as if pleading with her to trust him. He looked so vulnerable. Katniss expelled a breath. She’d question if she should trust him. A single word enters her mind. Together.

Taking his hand in hers. "There isn’t anyone I would rather do this with."

He chuckled. "You’re so fierce, like an Amazon."

Katniss grinned. "You haven't seen me with my bow."

"You’re so amazing."

Their hands threaded together. She was going to protect Peeta because the whirlwind of pain stopped here.

Let the storm commence.

"Together," Peeta said with hope.

 "Together."

-THE BUCK STOPS AT LA

Peeta opened his mouth to speak as Haymitch entered the garage. The kid’s text message that Claudius broke into the girl's apartment and took pictures of them in-flagrante had him calling in the troops. He had less than an hour to spin and control the narrative. Naked pictures of the kid wouldn’t have meant anything to Haymitch if it were another client, but the kid had a stellar track record. It meant the world. He sent a text to his contact, another favor. The kid was going to owe him big.

"Save it, kid," he said gruffly. He needed a drink, hell, he needed an entire bottle of whisky.  "Flipping burnt flapjacks, kid, if you needed a break." His eyes scanned the small interior. His car was bigger on the inside than this place. "I could have helped you."

"Haymitch," Peeta looked behind him at the girl and her sister.

"I'm sorry," Prim said quietly. "I wanted to tell you. But Peeta needed to feel safe."

"I know." Katniss nodded curtly. 

Peeta's love interest had the personality of a dead slug. His phone pinged. Haymitch hid his eavesdropping. His eyes focused on Peeta. The kid was more than just a client; he was like family. 

Haymitch lowered his voice. "I know this had to do with your family. So I let you go, my mistake. And I'm not letting anyone ruin you for a paycheck. Now introduce me."

"Haymitch, this is Katniss Everdeen and her sister Primrose.

It only took Haymitch seconds for him to assess the situation.

The little sister Primrose was sugary sweet, adorable. Her wide baby blue eyes held intelligence and goodness. The world was going to love her. 

His grey eyes met the girl. "Listen Sweetheart, if you’re going to survive this, you've got to listen to me."

His grey eyes watched the kid with the girl. He hid his grin when she scowled at his nickname for her.  He could see her bristle, before her eyes shuttered closed, almost like a camera lense quickly shifting to block out light. "Okay, lovebirds, Cinna is here. And Caesar is waiting outside to interview you both." 

"Haymitch," Peeta said, taking a step forward to protect both of the women in his arms. This behavior he expected from the kid.

Sweetheart’s behavior though surprised him. When Katniss glanced at Peeta, she transformed into a fiery creature that is so pure and majestic. Haymitch realized Sweetheart was a lot like him. Tender hearted, fiercely loyal, with a tough exterior. Haymitch knew the girl was smitten with Peeta himself, and not the Hollywood facade. This he could work with. 

"Haymitch, Katniss is Primrose's guardian. The pictures Claudius took are salacious and damning." Peeta glanced back at Katniss before moving forward. “She can't afford to have them come out. We need to make sure they are protected."

"Look, I can sell this star-crossed lover." As expected Sweetheart scowled. Good, Haymitch thought; he wanted her to go into combat mode. "You guys will tell Caesar the truth." As Haymitch spoke he was furiously typing on the keypad of his phone. "He's broadcasting it onto a live audience. People love a good love story. Any pictures Claudius has will be seen as intrusive."

Haymitch opened the door to Cinna who arrived with the prep team. 

"How long do we have?"

"15 minutes tops," Haymitch said.

Cinna nodded. The team hauled in dresses, makeup, lights, and things Haymitch was sure the Everdeen women had never seen. 

"What the hell is going on here?"

Haymitch turned to meet a woman who looked to be six feet tall. Her sharp eyes glance at Sweetheart. Haymitch guessed this was landlady by her agitated face. 

"Hazelle," Sweetheart said, and he could see that she wanted to cry, but she built up a wall. This wasn't a friend, but the woman was an authority figure. Someone Sweetheart looked up to. 

“Katniss what is going on? Why are all these people trespassing? Gale called me and said that you had all of these people here.”

Sweetheart was easy to read.  She was pissed at the name Gale. He quietly glanced at the kid who’s eyes ticked also at the sound of Gale’s name. 

“Who is Gale?” Haymitch abruptly asked, not caring about the woman before him. He knew Gale was related to Hazelle but he wanted to know what part this idiot had in this fiasco.

“Gale is my son, and this is my property.”

Sweetheart looked agitated, and he wondered if this Gale was the reason he was here. The reason the kid and sweetheart were in this mess.  Peeta mouthed Claudius to him and confirmed his suspicions. “You rent to her?” Haymitch narrowed his eyes. 

“Yes.” Hazelle bit back. “I want…” 

Haymitch got in her way, stopping her torrent of words. His phone pinged, and he got what he was waiting for, the pictures, from an insider at the tabloid Claudius sold the pictures to.  As he's suspected, the money shot wasn't of Peeta, it was of Peeta with Sweetheart. Haymitch then saw why Peeta was upset. Because the pictures showed how vulnerable the kid's other half was. It was Sweetheart’s whose life would be ruined. Her name raked through hot coals and muck. This was the intention of Hazelle’s son, and Haymitch scratched the words 'Hazelles son' and for the first time in years he cursed, that rat bastard. “Then you know your son allowed a paparazzi into your renter’s apartment and let him take pictures of my client and his girlfriend while they were asleep?”

Her eyes widened with shock. “My son would never…”

“Really,” Haymitch held his phone up and. “I believe that is your son in the background with a smug grin on his face. He violated the renter’s agreement to be notified before entering the residence. He also is a slimy, no good worm for doing that to her.” Haymitch said, “Hope you’re proud of your son.” 

Hazelle’s eyes lost her indignation. "I..."  

"I suggest you lawyer up. I've just sent the information to my client’s lawyer, Johanna Mason. I suggest you call your son and tell him he can kiss the money he made goodbye." 

"Johanna?" Peeta questioned.

Haymitch grinned wickedly. Peeta hadn't wanted to do anything about his mother, but Haymitch went behind his back to procure Hollywood's number one ball busting lawyer Johanna Mason. She gleefully was preparing the paperwork against Snow; the woman loathed the man. She already had an injunction against the images. "Don't worry Kid, she's doing this pro-bono. Now go get pretty. You go live with Caesar in less than ten."

-THE INTERVIEW

Caesar Flickerman was like a circus ringleader. Literally dressed like a ringleader with a red jacket, black lapels, and gold trimming. His hair was jet black and his smile was a little too crazed for Katniss' liking. She squared her shoulders, looking at Haymitch who raised an eyebrow and his eyes slid to the camera letting her know she was not acting like the doting girlfriend. It caused her to gaze at Peeta who took her hand and squeezed it. The butterflies that were eerily silent until this very moment were having a championship hockey match inside of her stomach.

She was so uncomfortable. In ten minutes she’d been waxed, pealed, and poured into clothing with price tags that made her head spin. The jean’s she wore cost more than her rent. She and her sister were sitting on either side of Peeta. Primrose looked beautiful, her blonde hair combed and styled to perfection. Cinna and his assistants dressed her in a graphic t-shirt dress and distressed jacket. She wore lace up black ankle boots. Prim was excited for the fashion and Katniss' heart twisted because she could never afford to give her sister any of this. 

Looking down at her hands, she thought this was all surreal. 

There were cameras, glaring lights, this fuzzy long thing that hung right above her head. It was hot and uncomfortable. It was also live.

Caesar was speaking to the camera about them. 

It was too much. Those butterflies that were playing hockey now drove dune buggies. Her eyes looked for an exit. She didn’t know how Peeta did it, being on center stage. 

Sensing her discomfort, Peeta put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. Katniss sighed, looking up at him. The sooty lashes that Peeta's prep team glued to her lids stuck together and she blinked to  separate them; this is why she didn't wear makeup.

Peeta might have read the wrong signal because he leaned in and brushed a kiss on her lips. Then his lips trailed from the cleft of her lips to her cheeks to her ear. "You okay?" he whispered.

Katniss could feel heat flush her face as she realized Peeta had found a way to communicate without breaking the charade. Katniss whispered, "My fake lashes keep on sticking together. And I loathe make up!"

The low rumble in his chest meant he was caught off guard.

She wanted to hide her grin, and he wiggled his eyebrows. There was the loveable goofball who had an unnatural love of all things laundry. Say the words fabric softener and he became a puppy with a favorite toy.

He roughly whispered, "You're amazing!"

He gently brushed her lashes and adjusted the troublesome lash before moving away.

"Look at you two, what a beautiful couple!" Caesar gushed.

For those few seconds Katniss was grateful for the man's exuberance; it's as if he was on their side.  

“So what happened Peeta?” Caesar said with notes of sincerity. “Why did you walk away?”

Peeta leaned forward and Katniss slipped her hand in his. 

“It was the whole thing with my parents.” Peeta’s voice hid nothing of the pain; he shared it with the world. “My mother sold me to the highest bidder, and,” Katniss squeezed his hand. “They went through my home. I felt violated, and unable to feel safe.”

Caesar said, “I recall that wasn’t that long ago.”

“The pressure, sadness, and betrayal were eating me up and I needed to step away.  I am not a drinker or a guy who enjoys partying.” Peeta shrugged. “I’m a homebody. I’m more domestic.” 

Katniss thought of his love of laundry and the butterflies in her stomach settled.   

Caesar laughed. “Domestic.”

“He makes great pastries,” Prim said. Her eyes were wide and lovely. 

“Pastries?” Caesar asked. 

“Here you want some?” Prim held up a bag of cookies. “They are heavenly.”

“PRIM,” Katniss huffed. “I’m so sorry.”

Peeta grinned.  “You see Caesar, this is what I needed.”

Caesar laughed. “Tell me who are these lovely ladies…”

“This is Primrose Everdeen,” Peeta introduced. 

“Hi Caesar,” Prim said. “Seriously though you need to try these cookies.” Prim opened the brown bag and handed one to Caesar.

“Well, alright,” Caesar looked at the cookie as if tasting it was going to make him gain three hundred pounds. 

“It’s gluten free, dairy free, and nut free,” Prim smiled. 

The camera zoomed into Caesar’s face and Katniss witnesses the power of Peeta’s bakery take down another person. The celebrity interviewers face turners into one of pure rapture. “Peeta, you must give me the recipe.”

“Sorry his baked goods are all mine,” Prim said. 

Caesar laughed. “Oh she is precious. But tell me who is this sitting next to you?”

“Caesar this is Katniss Everdeen.”

The butterflies were back and they had jackhammers. 

“She’s the reason I stayed actually. They aren’t the reason I walked away, but they are the reason I didn’t go back” Peeta confessed. His voice softened, his eyes held notes of tenderness as he spoke, “These two women mean the world to me.”

Even the hardened Hollywood crew sighed at Peeta’s words. 

“I met him first,” Prim said. “But I needed to make sure he had good intentions toward my sister.” 

“Katniss,” Caesar asked, “You’ve been so quiet.”

Katniss glanced at her sister and then at Peeta, unaware of the way her face transformed and caused the world to fall in love with her. She transcended into something fierce and wildly beautiful. 

The camera scanned down to the way her hands were intertwined with Peeta’s. 

“When did you fall for him? Did you know who Peeta was?”

Katniss couldn’t stop staring into Peeta’s blue eyes. “I didn’t know who he was; I was clueless.” Her voice trembled, “All I know is that he was so kind and generous.” She stared, not at the camera but at Caesar. “And when I found out who he was and what happened I just couldn’t understand why any mother would want to hurt their child like that.”   

Peeta smiled softly then he looked at Caesar, “Now you know why I stayed.” Peeta then placed a kiss on her lips and then said, “What I didn’t expect was another invasion of privacy.” 

 -AMERICAN SWEETHEARTS

“You alright?” Peeta tucked a strand of her hair behind Katniss' ear. She looked gorgeous. Cinna had outdone himself. She wore a red dress that looked like poured molten fire on her skin. Peeta couldn’t wait to get back home and strip her out of it. 

“I am.” 

He watched her hands shake. The Oscars was the superbowl of the movie industry. Peeta held her hand. Outside the limo, there were about a thousand reporters and wall to wall fans.  This was overwhelming for her and he was the professional. He could just imagine what it was like for a girl who would rather sit in the chair of a sadistic dentist sans novacaine than to be thrust into the controlled mêle that existed outside the limo’s door.

“You don’t have to go in with me; you can stay in the car. You can go back to the hotel, rent a movie, jump on the bed, steal all of the toiletries in the room, and if you are feeling dangerous," Peeta lowered his voice an octave, "rip the tags off the mattress.”

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. He watched her struggle to keep the laughter she wanted to expel over his ridiculous suggestion. He, of course, made reference to the small argument they were having over her purity. 

It started with Finnick doing his whole Daniel Craig, James Bond thing where he came out of the water. Finnick was messing with her and Katniss disliked him. She proceeded to give Finnick, ‘if he were in her woods he'd be in big trouble’ looks throughout the barbeque. 

Peeta told her, Finnick was only messing with her because she was pure.  And Katniss bristled, and fought that she wasn't pure. But Peeta didn't mean it in a sexual way. He meant it in the way that she was pure of heart. Katniss had a pure heart. Like the hero's of old, she was valiant and although tough as nails, she was forgiving. Gale betrayed her and she was mulling over forgiving him.

After Caesar's interview, Peeta and Katniss’ relationship was cemented in the public eye. Haymitch was able to control the narrative since Katniss led a normal life and wasn't like Finnick, who had so many hidden skeletons in his closet. Haymitch was taking care of the Everdeen women, mentoring them. He had an affinity for Prim and Katniss. They understood one another because Haymitch had lost his family as well, and he had tried to raise his brother, but they were separated and sent into foster homes. 

Haymitch hired Johanna to help Katniss retain her custody of Prim. They were seeking visas for all three of them. Peeta to travel in and out of Panem, and For Katniss and Prim. 

Johanna, spurred by the public outcry over the second violation of his privacy, wanted Snow and his tabloids prosecuted for invasion of privacy of someone who wasn't in the limelight. Gale and Claudius were arrested for, breaking and entering and some other misdemeanor charges. Claudius was facing a harder climb because he was an outsider. Because of Katniss, there was clemency for Gale. And that brought him back to why Katniss was pure. She didn't even know the effect she had on people or how she inspired others.  

Peeta reached out and put his hand on top of hers. “No, I can do this,” she said.

He knew this was not easy, but as she sat perched at the edge of her seat, he thought about how Katniss became his family. How she encouraged him to take on meaningful roles, and to pursue directing and production. They were both still young, but he knew from the moment his eyes met hers in Greasy Sae's diner he was a goner. His feelings for Katniss multiplied as time passed and they worked through each hurdle together. 

Looking at her, Peeta knew without a doubt Katniss had strong feelings for him as well. She wasn't someone who used words; she spoke with her actions. Katniss fought by his side. Simple things she did. Like making his tea the way he liked it without sugar and milk. Opening the window before they went to sleep because she knew he liked to sleep with a window open. Googling how to make natural paints, then going out into nature and gathering supplies to make the paint for him. It spoke volumes.

"I love you," the words slipped out of his lips. 

Her eyes widened.

"You don't have to say it back to me, because I know that you care about me. You do a hundred little things in the day to show me the depths of your emotions toward me." 

He watched as a smile curved her lips. Her silvery eyes sparkled, greater than sunlight glittering on the surface of water. She stole his breath away. All he ever wanted was to be needed, loved, and here was the personification of that need.

"I need you Peeta," she rasped. He could hear and see the depth of emotion in her eyes. "I love you." 

He leaned in and with shaking hands cupped her face. Suddenly he didn’t want to be at the Oscars. Peeta wanted to be in a private room to show her with his words, his mouths, his hands, and his body just how much he loved this woman. “Screw the Oscars, let's get out of here.” 

Her eyes turned mischievous, “Oh hell no. I wasn’t plucked, creamed and stuffed into this dress like a holiday turkey by Cinna and his prep team just to turn around and leave. We’re going to walk that carpet, we’re gonna sit in our seats, and do this shindig, because as much as I like pissing off Haymitch, I don’t think we should give him a heart attack by not showing up.”

Peeta laughed. There she was pushing her own discomfort for him. “And afterwards?”

“Win or lose, Pete Golightly, you’re taking this dress off with your teeth.” She threw him a mischievous look, “And then we’re going to grab some fabric sheets and sniff them.”

The door opened and Peeta was stunned by her description. Heat and desire poured through his veins. He now had a boner. Then a slow smile spread on his face he was going to go home a winner no matter what.  Laughter erupted from his lips, though from the fabric sheets comment and the sheer joy on his face was the picture that was captured by the press.

Peeta did win the Oscar, and he did go home, and he did tear off her dress with his teeth. And afterwards they did laundry all night long. He was after all, a man of his word. 

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

[luninosity]

It’s @whumptober2020 time! Have some Steve/Bucky, with modern-day politician!Steve. This one’s for theme 17 - I Did Not See That Coming - specific prompt: blackmail; and theme 26 - If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad - specific prompt: migraines.

Enjoy!

#

Bucky reads the email. Then reads it again. Looks at the pictures. Then takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, fingers pressing the spot between his eyebrows. He knows the words and the photos won’t go away.

 He’s already got a headache: the beginnings of what, based on experience, is going to be a really awful migraine. It’s been a long day even though it’s only eleven in the morning; he loves the energy and momentum of Steve’s congressional campaign, and he loves helping write press releases and speeches, and he loves Steve, of course.

 It’s just a lot. Noise bounces around the headquarters and bounds into Bucky’s office despite his closed door. The passion’s wonderful but also loud. Their lives are already changing; they’ll change even more once Steve’s elected. And now there’s this.

 Bucky wishes fleetingly, just for a second, that he and Steve could run away somewhere, just the two of them, maybe visiting a goat farm or the Grand Canyon or someplace quiet and vast and full of stars; and then he laughs a little at impossibilities and gets up. He loves Steve, and Steve needs to know about this.

 He catches his balance with a hand on the side of his desk, as his vision briefly sparkles and blurs. His desk supports him, worried. Steve’ll be worried too, so Bucky squares his shoulders and ducks out into the cacophony of posters and phone calls and lurking reporters and interns. Several of them recognize him—not as Steve’s boyfriend, but as a valuable inner-circle staff member—and wave. Bucky lifts a hand in reply.

 They don’t know he’s Steve’s boyfriend because, on advice from Brock the campaign manager, they’ve been keeping that one quiet. Bucky’s not an asset, Brock’d said. The sexuality might be acceptable—Steve’s proudly pansexual, always has been, and Bucky’s also out and not shy about being gay, and Steve’s campaign’s built around inclusion and affirmation. Steve could run for office with a man on his arm. But James Buchanan Barnes specifically…

 James Barnes, one-time prisoner of war. James Barnes, present-day moderately successful science fiction author, not bad with words and putting them together. James Barnes, formerly brainwashed former assassin. James Barnes, with a twisted and ugly past that even he doesn’t remember too much about, who’s done things the legal system says he’s not guilty of, not being in his sound mind and all, but who still pulled those triggers, set those traps. James Barnes has a prosthetic arm, PTSD, and migraines and full-body aches on an unpredictable and painful schedule.

 James Barnes would be a liability, if Steve wants to win.

 Bucky, who’d once upon a time seen Steve’s face on a local council-board election poster while roaming New York City streets on an assignment, who’d recognized the eyes of the boy who’d been the first person he’d ever kissed and the boy he’d grown up with and joined the Army with, who’d stood there and gone off-mission and abandoned his target because tiny firecrackers of memory were exploding behind his eyes…

 Bucky had nodded. Agreeing with Brock.

 Steve, of course, had been angry. But Steve also listens to Bucky, at least more than to anyone else. And Bucky had made a choice, and Steve won’t trample over that.

 His head aches, dull and clumsy and thick. He clutches his phone.

 He taps at the frame of Steve’s open door. Natasha, who’s in charge of publicity, is just getting up to leave; her expression starts as a smile but becomes concern. “Are you—”

 Bucky tries for a smile. Even his face hurts. “Just something Steve should look over.”

 Natasha obviously notices he’s not carrying anything, no printed speech drafts or copy for a press release, just his phone; but she only nods, not pushing. She does pat his shoulder, the not-prosthetic one, on the way out. And shuts the door.

 Bucky’s pretty sure she’s guessed about him and Steve. He’s not sure Steve realizes that.

 Steve at the moment is getting up—he’d been leaning casually against his desk, not sitting behind it—and coming over, holding out both hands, all muscles and blue eyes and golden shining heroic concern. “Buck—I was just going to come find you, I wanted to tell you—come here, sit down, you look—another migraine? Or—”

 “Yeah, but that’s not it.” He does sit down, because Steve’s guiding him onto the small blue sofa. It’s not really big enough for two men their size, but being close to Steve feels nice. Or it does for now; his stomach twists. Steve might not want to hold him, in a minute. “I just got this email. You need to know.”

 Steve takes his phone. Reads. Swears, low and vehement.

 “Yeah.” Bucky closes his eyes. His stomach feels unhappy too. Nausea, right on schedule. Steve’s lights’re too bright. His shoulder hurts; even his hair aches. “I don’t know how he got those pictures. But the how doesn’t matter.”

 The man has pictures. Bucky and Steve. Clearly together: caught sharing a kiss as they duck into their front door, coming home, laughing under an umbrella and the rain. Unmistakable.

 He wants money. He also wants Steve to drop out of the race. The timing’s flawless; the polls have Steve ahead, as announced earlier this morning.

 Steve sets down Bucky’s phone. Stretches an arm to reach the light switch, which he can, just barely, and dims the lights. Then coaxes Bucky further down onto the sofa, head pillowed on Steve’s lap. Bucky tries to protest but desperately wants to lie down, wants Steve’s hands on him, and so gives in.

 Steve’s artist’s fingers rub lightly over his temple. “How’s this?”

 “Better.” It is, a little. Steve knows how hard and where to touch, or not touch, or work up to. “Love you.” Even as he says it, he winces: that’s exactly the problem right now.

 Steve’s hand moves to the nape of Bucky’s neck, soothing, rubbing tension away. “Love you. So, um. What I wanted to tell you…guess this won’t be so bad, after all, and the timing’s even kinda funny…”

 “Steve, he’s trying to blackmail you. Using me.”

 “And it’s not gonna work.” Steve’s deploying a version of the politician voice, the authoritative fiercely protective one that never fails to weaken Bucky’s knees, but this version’s even deeper and rumbly and intimate: Steve’s not about to let anyone threaten Bucky. “I fired Brock this morning.”

 “You what? Why?” Bucky starts to sit up. Cars crash inside his skull; he can’t breathe, dizzy. “I need to write you a statement—you’ll need a draft of—Jesus, Steve, tell me you at least said something tactful—”

 “Well, I didn’t punch him. Close, though.” Steve sounds amazingly unworried. His hands ease Bucky back down; one covers Bucky’s eyes, making the world blessedly dark and calm. “Nat’s taking over as campaign manager. That’s what she was in here to talk about.”

 “Jesus,” Bucky says again. “It’s only eleven am, and you’ve fired Brock and given Nat a new job, and we’re getting blackmailed. Why’d you fire him?”

 “He…said something I didn’t like. Want me to make your ginger tea or grab your painkillers?”

 “No, just stay here for now. It wasn’t about me, was it?” The guilty silence on Steve’s end makes Bucky’s head thump more. “Steve, no. Tell me you’re not firing people over me.”

 “I fired him because he’s a fucking awful person who says fucking awful things about people who’ve been through trauma, and also about women, and also about people in therapy, and also about which of our interns he wants to fuck,” Steve says. “I don’t want any of that around here. And I want you here. I’m done pretending I’m not in love with you, Bucky Barnes.”

 “Steve—”

 “I’m proud to be with you.” Steve lifts the hand from Bucky’s eyes long enough for Bucky to focus on him, to see he means it. He does, and all that fiery conviction takes Bucky’s breath away.

 Steve Rogers has always been ready to take on any villains, to join any protests, to protect the world if the world needs a protector. Skinny scrawny sickly Steve’d had that lion’s heart long before the Army and the rippling muscles and, now, the carefully chosen politician’s suits and ties. Steve knows about strategies on all sorts of battlefields.

 And Bucky loves him so damn much, with heart and soul and fingertips and kisses and aching dreams and hopes and promises. With everything they are and have been and will be, together.

 Steve goes on, “I’m proud to stand next to you. I love you. I don’t fucking care who knows it—it’s about time everyone knows it. That’s who I am, and I’m not gonna hide it, and I’m not gonna let some jerk with a camera ruin it. You’re you and I’m me and we’re together to the end of the line.”

 “And that’s that,” Bucky manages, shaky.

 “Yep.”

 “So…we’re…just gonna ignore the whole blackmail thing.”

 “We can report it. But I’d already decided.” Steve hesitates. His hand’s stroking Bucky’s hair now, a welcome deliberate heavy presence. “But…guess I didn’t exactly ask you. Shit. I’m sorry, Buck, I should’ve. I haven’t said anything yet, just fired Brock, so…if you want…if you’d rather not…we don’t have to go public. You don’t have to go through that.”

 Bucky doesn’t answer for a second, only lying still in the dark. Steve’s thigh’s a good pillow. Steve’s voice is warm and loving. Steve’s hands are full of love too.

 He says, “I’ll write us a statement. A press release. And we should do an interview together.”

 Steve’s hand stops moving.

 Bucky opens his eyes a fraction. Peeking up. “Kinda proud to be with you, too, y’know.”

 “Oh,” Steve says. “But—I thought—”

 “Never really wanted to hide.” Bucky shrugs a shoulder, a small movement; it doesn’t hurt. “Just thought…maybe it was the right advice, not like I know anything about politics, and maybe you’d be better off…”

 “I wasn’t. Not without you.” Steve touches a fingertip to Bucky’s mouth; Bucky kisses it. “So you only agreed because of me. Trying to protect me.”

 “And you fire people because of me.”

 “Just the one, and he’s a dick.”

 “I like your dick,” Bucky tells him, not that Steve doesn’t already know. “So…guess we’re doing this. When?”

 “Now,” Steve says. “I’m taking a long lunch and I don’t have anything I can’t reschedule—or that Nat can’t handle—this afternoon. I’m planning to take my boyfriend home, take care of him, and also kiss him in front of the whole campaign staff on the way out. If he’s, y’know, good with that.”

 “He’s very, very good with that,” Bucky says, because it’s very, very true. Despite the pounding in his head, the world’s looking fantastic. Brock’s gone, Steve’s ahead in the polls, the blackmail’s utterly irrelevant, and Bucky gets to kiss Steve and be loved by Steve and swept away by Steve while people cheer, and so, yeah: good, he decides, is exactly the word.

#whumptober2020 #no.17 #no.26 #i did not see that coming #if you thought the head trauma was bad #blackmail #migraines #stucky #fic #steve/bucky #my fic

[chillassimagines]

Birthday Sex (Teen Wolf Preference) PART THREE

PARRISH:

“Soo, you don’t wanna role play good cop and criminal this year?” You teased, handing Parrish his warmed tupperware with his lunch inside. He laughed and shook his head at you.

“Work doesn’t turn me on as much anymore, Y/N.” He played along with your joke as he pressed his lips against yours. You sarcastically sighed.

“Guess I’ll have to come up with another plan.” His hand came down from your waist to squeeze your behind slightly.

“You never disappoint.” He whispered in your ear, his tone changing quite fast. Your mouth gaped open momentarily before you shut it.

“You have three more hours on this shift, how am I going to make it?” You asked with a whine. He nodded towards the door to his office.

“Lock the door and you won’t have to wait.” Your mind when from a million things to one, getting Jordan’s pants off. You dashed to the door to lock it and ran back to your husband to engross yourself in his kisses.

“Happy freaking Birthday, Jordan.” You sighed happily as he sat you on top of his desk and pulled your shirt off. He smirked in return and pulled off your pants and your panties were to follow. You paused any further action and took off his shirt. You grabbed onto his back and pulled him close to your body. “I won’t disappoint tonight.” You winked at him, signaling that you came up with something different for when he came home to you. Something changed in his eyes at that.

“If you make it there.” He spoke darkly. Within moments his belt’s thunk sounded, letting you know his pants were removed. It was one of the sexiest sounds your officer could make. Parrish proceeded to cup his hands under your ass and thrust into you. You dug your nails into his skin at the pleasure. His thrusts were calculated and smooth, he dug right into your g spot, knowing that would evoke his favorite girly moans.

“Yes! Right there.” You clenched your legs around his waist, but you weren’t expecting him to lift your body up and walk around his desk to sit in his chair, with your body above him. You had never done something so vulgar in his workplace. He leaned the chair back so it would rest against his desk as his hungry eyes scanned your torso.

“You know how it goes.” He spoke in the same low tone, almost daring you not to start riding him. One hand removed itself from your ass and trailed up to the back of your neck. You began grinding against him, using the desk to balance your movements. The hand on your ass pushed you up and down on top of his growing length. The hand on your neck moved to your hair and pulled on it slightly. Your eyes caught his ass they rolled back into his head.

“Fuck, you look so good, baby.” You moaned out as his hand tangled itself in your thick hair. He pulled even harder, making your eyes meet the ceiling. You yelped when you felt his hand smack your ass.

“Shhh, Y/N.” Jordan warned from below you. You had the overwhelming desire to go faster, because your end would bring so much more pleasure. Your hips stuttered at the thought of cumming. “You wanna go faster?” He knew your ticks.

“Please.” You whined. He removed his guiding hand from your behind and your hair and went to play with your breasts.

“Do it.” He ordered. Your brought your eyes down from the ceiling to watch his face as your skin began clapping against his aggressively. His mouth hung open and his eyes could barely stay open. You loved seeing him so lost in this, compared to when he was lost in frustration of his work. He let out a high pitched whine and thrusted his hips up to meet yours.

“You gonna cum?” You cooed in his ear and kissed his neck. He nodded quickly and forced his eyes to meet yours, through their daze. Within seconds you felt his thumb at your clit. You bit your lip and quickly brought Parrish to his end.

“F-fucking shit.” He grunted, his hands landing on your waist as the feeling of his orgasm shot into you, triggering your own. After you both calmed down you rested your head on his shoulder. You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“You’re right, I might not make it there.”

THEO:

“You know you want to, Y/N! I mean, just look at him.” Your best friend pointed to the male whom had just exited your pool. Your watched from your sliding glass door as the water cascading from his body accentuated his built figure.

“I can’t! He probably doesn’t even like me like that. People just come to get drunk and high off their asses, the fact that it’s my birthday is just an excuse to do it.” You tore your eyes away from Theo reluctantly. Your best friend took you by your shoulders.

“He’s literally giving you sexy eyes as I speak to you, Y/N. Take this goddamn cover up off and go win you some good dick. You deserve it after everything the whole McCall pack put you through.” You bit your lip in hesitation. You were Deacon’s medical student niece after all and the pack had always stressed you out when your uncle was unavailable. You took a deep breath.

“Okay, fine. I got this, right?” You asked your friend, needing more encouragement. She smiled in satisfaction.

“Hell yeah.” You took off your black silk cover up and handed it to your little hype man. She grinned at you as you opened the sliding door to the backyard. Music flooded your ears and you felt the vibrations in the ground as you walked to the drink table. You grabbed a bottle of Malibu and took a swig of the sweet drink.

“Birthday girl’s getting wilder every second.” You knew it was Theo and you knew he was grinning. Turning to him you caught him looking at your ass, but his eyes quickly drifted to your chest in replace.

“I’d be a terrible example for everyone else if I didn’t. Gotta take risks, right?” You smiled slightly before taking another swig. Theo’s eyes met yours and you felt like you were drowning in the ocean of baby blues.

“Risks are how you truly live.” He spoke in a genuine tone. You held out the bottle to him.

“Cheers to that.” Theo took a swig and walked closer to you, reaching behind you to set the drink down. When he stood straight, you two were very close.

“Mind if I take a risk?”

-

“Lock it, lock it!” You spoke between the kisses Theo brought onto your lips. He turned slightly and locked your door.

“Don’t worry, birthday girl. I only plan to have you for myself tonight.” One hand cupped your cheek and took your bottom lip between his teeth.

“I like when you call me that.” You whispered before untying one of your bikini top’s knots. Theo raised a devilish brow.

“Birthday girl?” You hummed and nodded, moving to the last knot and letting the top drop to the ground.

“Yeah.” Theo’s hungry eyes looked at your bare torso.

“Come here, birthday girl.” He took your hand and motioned for you to sit on the end of your bed. He pushed you softly onto your back by holding your sides. His hands drifted down to your bottoms. He removed them and you couldn’t help but get turned on from how gentle he was being with you. He hadn’t touched you yet. “I can touch you tonight, right?” He made eye contact with you, leaving no room for uncertainty. You nodded. He chuckled and shook his head. “Tonight you’ll learn to use your words. Say it.”

“Yes.” Your body shifted at the tone in his words. He knelt down on the ground, which you hadn’t expected. You leaned against your elbows so you could see what he was doing. He pulled your waist down the bed further, so your heat lined up with his face. Your eyes widened. He noticed.

“I’m going to assume that no one has done what I’m about to do.” You shook your head no and his mouth twitched upward. You forgot.

“I mean, uh, no. No one has.” You spoke sheepishly. His hands gripped your thighs and his thumbs drew circles on your skin.

“What a shame for them. This is my favorite place. You’re going to love this, birthday girl.” He winked and began sucking a hickey on your inner thigh. As the moments went on, you could feel yourself getting more and more turned on by Theo’s word choice and his aura. He was confident and knew his words came with effects. His lips left your hickey and his tongue dragged against the sensitive bruise, making your body shiver. He smiled up at you, making your hand come up and cover your face.

“I’m sorry.” You were as fucking nervous as a virgin.

“Cover your face one more time and I’ll make it permanent. You’ll want to see this, Y/N.” You quickly removed your hand with widened eyes. His threat was spoken with dominating seriousness. His eyes flashed their wolf golden color and you fought not to shiver once more.

“Okay.” You spoke, allowing your body to relax. His head went back to your thighs and you watched as his tongue traced the hickey several times. He enjoyed the shaking of your thighs by his smile. However, the smile wasn’t able to be seen when his mouth encased your clit. He began sucking, nibbling, and pulling on it. “Holy shit.” You squeezed the bed sheets, fighting to thrust against his mouth. His tongue laid against it and moved up and down. You bit your lip and whined.

“Louder.” He ordered and his tongue flicked against you at a fast pace. You couldn’t fight the urge anymore and let your hips buck up.

“Fuck!” You cried out for him. Your shaking thighs threatened to close in on him, but his hands slapped harshly against them before holding them in place.

“I bet your ass jiggles just like them.” He murmured, pausing his actions as he got an idea. “You’re gonna ride my face, birthday girl.” He stood and laid on his back next to you. Your eyes grew wide.

“I, um, I-”

“You’ll move, or I’ll move you.” You licked your lips in nervous habit and sat up. You moved your leg over his chest and looked down at him before moving up closer to his lips. “Just enjoy it. And for fuck’s sake, move, birthday girl.” He smirked before gripping your ass and pressed you down onto his lips. Your sensitive clit made you grind down on him. One of his hands moved yours to his hair. You gripped his hair harshly, which he definitely didn’t expect. But he let out a loud moan into your heat, making you cry out his name.

“Theo, your fingers, I need them.” You begged, continuing your grinding. A moment passed and you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance. He definitely felt how wet you were and you knew it. They sunk inside of you with ease and you hummed in pleasure. His hand on your ass came down on it and allowed him to feel it jiggle as much as he said it would.

“Take off my shorts before I cum in them.” He spoke before going back to eating you out. Your eyes widened and you looked behind you to see his hips thrust up into the air, the tent in his swim shorts quite evident. You reached back and slid them down to his ankles. He didn’t ask, but as you faced back to him you left your hands behind you to lean on the bed, and one of your hands wrapped around him. He grunted against you and you smiled as you moved faster for him, both with your hips and your hand. His fingers shot up right into your g spot.

“Fuck!” You cried out. Theo’s moans vibrated against you as he got closer to his end. Before you knew it you felt his cum on your hand. You looked back and watched him finish.

“Watch your pussy cum now. And put those in your mouth, pretty birthday girl.” Theo ordered, making you shoot your head back to him. His tongue flicked against your clit once more as his fingers continued their tummy twisting pleasure. You put your cum covered fingers inside of your mouth, making sure he saw you. He let out a higher pitched moan, that made you absolutely fall head over heels for the man. And it made you fall over the edge as well. You fell next to him shortly after.

“We have to do that again.” You spoke between pants. Theo smiled at you widely.

“Glad you feel the same, birthday girl.”

MALIA:

“Thanks for coming over, babe. This is just so frustrating and I needed a break.” Malia opened the door to her house to you and pressed her lips to yours. Your rubbed her furrowed eyebrows with your thumbs with a smile.

“You need a break from homework, or you’re horny on your birthday?” You asked. Her brows unfurrowed and her lips cracked into a small smile.

“Maybe I was a little bit lonely?” She put her hands up and shrugged. You laughed and shut the door to her house.

“Malia, you know that you’re at risk for not graduating this year?” You tried to lightly say it. She huffed.

“I know.”

“You know that until you do one assignment I’m not touching you, right?” She growled softly and walked up to her room. You couldn’t help but laugh a little, however, as her ass moved in those little sleeping shorts you didn’t think you could help yourself. You knew she wanted to lure you into her trap so she could seduce you as soon as she texted you. You naturally, got a little hot and bothered as well. You didn’t hear her bedroom door shut, so you began your plan.

You discarded your clothes by the stairs and walked up the stairs. At first you wanted to go quietly, but Malia was a freaking coyote and hears everything. You approached her bedroom and she was faced away from you on her computer typing.

“Come to torture me, huh?” She asked, continuing to work. You were so proud at the fact that she didn’t even turn around. However, you remembered that she just wanted to get it done to get down and dirty.

“Or relieve you.” You leaned against the doorway and watched as your girlfriend spun her chair around with a grin.

“Yes!” She cheered and pulled her shorts and shirt off.

“Never thought we’d be the couple that does birthday sex.” Malia pushed you up against the wall.

“I happen to be horny on my birthday. That’s all.” Malia didn’t like the concept of birthdays, but you wanted to celebrate her presence in your life so badly.

“Really horny.” You sighed as Malia’s lips encaptured your breast and her hand played with the other. Your hand trailed down to her heat to do exactly what she liked. “I love you, Malia.”

“Love you too, Y/N.” She paused from her assault and took your hand to toss you onto the bed with her super strength.

“You’re gonna break me one day.” You joked as she parted your knees.

“One can only hope.” She winked and placed her pussy right over yours. You moaned in unison as Malia grinded at a fast pace.

“Fuck.” You sighed and squeezed her ass with your hand, then proceeded to smack it, watching it move and turn pink. “You’re so pretty with a red ass.” You smacked it once more and Malia whined.

“More.” She pushed your knee down so she could arch her ass up in the air. Malia loved that you were obsessed with her behind and always let you do what you desired with it.

“Grind harder.” You ordered and she followed your orders while waiting for you to follow with your intentions. You smacked her ass about six more times before she stopped grinding and took her thumb to rub your clit hard. “Shit! Yes, baby!” You grinded against her thumb while she sucked on the breast she had abandoned earlier. You smacked her behind once more as you came and held onto the flaring red cheek. You ran your finger to her pussy and felt how wet she was.

“Sit up here, Malia.” You gestured for her to sit on your face and she happily obliged. You pressed open mouthed kisses to her heat and poked your tongue out into her hole. You brought your fingers down to her clit and pinched it a few times. Her uneven panting made it apparent that she was close.

“I’m close, Y/N!” She began grinding down onto your tongue as her thighs shook. Soon you felt your girlfriend’s cum hit your tastebuds. You flopped your head back down onto the mattress and stared up at Malia.

“Now get your homework done, birthday lady.”

STILES:

“Why him though?” Lydia asked you. You bit your lip and shrugged.

“I think the wildness turns me on.” Lydia looked at you in disgust.

“That’s called the most annoying anxiety ever! Stiles, is like, overwhelming.” You smirked.

“Nothing I can’t tame.” You laughed when Lydia’s jaw dropped.

“Yanno what? Fine, get it out of your system so I can stop hearing about it.” You shook your head and watched as Stiles walked down the hall to his locker and Scott walked away from him.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him out of my system.” You left Lydia to her angry murmuring as you approached Stiles. “Hey.” Stiles closed his locker and jumped when he saw you. You were a lot like Lydia to most of the school, a top dog. So Stiles was rightfully taken aback by your presence.

“Um, hey Y/N. Did you uh-uh need something from me? Or just something? Or like want something?” You thought that his stammering was freaking adorable, but you thought that if he spent enough time with you he’d be able to tone it down. You really did like Stiles...he was truly your type. You didn’t like the big buff guys like Jackson or Theo. You wanted someone rational and someone to balance out your social butterfly lifestyle.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over later? I need some help with Chem.” You leaned against the neighboring locker. You knew you didn’t need his help, because unlike Lydia, you didn’t let on that you didn’t know shit, you were smart.

“You want help? You need help? From me?” His eyes widened. You pointed over your shoulder.

“You know, Lydia’s not the brightest bulb in the school’s hallway, and I figured you paid more attention than I did today.” You painted your nails during Chem today. You knew you’d pass the class without batting an eye, because your last school was really expensive and focused on making their students the next Einstein’s.

“Sure, um, where do you live?” You handed him your phone.

“Put your number in there and I’ll text you the address.” He typed his number in with shaky hands.

“Thanks, Stiles.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked off.

-

“The mitochondria!” Stiles looked at you like you were on crack.

“That’s not an element, Y/N. You know Chemistry isn’t a required class, right?” You smiled at Stiles’ soft expression.

“I’m well aware. I’m also aware that the element would be Bromine. And the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” Stiles brows furrowed in confusion and you tossed the text book off of the coffee table.

“What-”

“Truth is, Stiles, it’s my birthday today-”

“Happy Birthday! Shit, I didn’t bring anything.” He looked around like he would be able to find something. You grinned at his sweet heart.

“Stiles. I made a birthday wish this morning. I wished that I’d be able to do some things with this boy I like.” You leaned towards him slightly, making your breasts pop out just a bit. His eyes grew wide as he noticed.

“He’s a lucky guy, Y/N.” You sighed and sat up straight. This wasn’t gonna work if you were too out there.

“I think I’d be lucky if he’d like me back.” You said softly. Stiles shook his head with a small smile.

“He’d be nuts not to.”

“Well, that’s good because the boy I want to spend my night with is you, Stiles.” His eyes almost popped out of his head.

“You’re pranking me, okay, I get it. I’ll leave.” Stiles picked up the book and stood up. You stood up and pushed him onto the couch.

“Stiles, I am not pranking you, okay? I’m being honest. You...you turn me on, like, a lot.” You felt your face begin to heat up. “If you let me, we can have a good time together, and maybe spend quality time together.” You took the book out of his hand and let it drop on the coffee table.

“Like, like what?” He asked, stunned at your proposition. You smiled, knowing he was interested. You bent down to his ear.

“Well first, I can start by making friends with someone in your boxers...you’ll find out what you like, I’ll find out how to make you feel good. Then you can cum inside of me, because I’m on birth control. How does that sound?” You backed up to see his face.

“That sounds like it’ll feel good.” You smirked and knelt down on the ground. Your hands undid his jeans button and zipper. There was a tent forming in his pants as you continued. You noticed how tense he was.

“Stiles, relax. It’s gonna feel good, just like you said.” You pulled down his jeans and boxers after he nodded. He was thicker than you might have given him credit for. “Who would have thought?” You whispered before letting your hand wrap around his member. His fists were squeezed hard on his sides. You took your other hand and intertwined your fingers with his. His hand felt right in yours. “I don’t have a gag reflex.” And you took him inside your mouth.

“Sh-shit.” He spoke shakily. You looked up at him as you bobbed your head up and down. His opposite hand came up to your hair cautiously. You moaned against his dick to let him know that you were okay with it. He thrust up into your mouth at the feeling and gripped your hair harshly. You missed the brief feeling of him so far in your throat so you moaned again, and he began steadily bucking his hips up. “You-you like that?” He asked genuinely curious, not even dirty talk. You wanted to smile at him, but you only moaned once more. “I’m so close” He whispered, looking in your eyes. You slowly came off of him, watching your drool cascade down his length.

“Good, because I need you inside of me.” You stood up and straddled his waist. He tensed up once more. You began kissing his neck tenderly. “Relax, baby. Did you like that?” You asked, before nibbling on his ear lobe.

“Yes. A lot.” You smiled happily and kissed his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He nodded and you cupped his face and brought your lips together as you moved your panties to the side and sunk down onto him. He let out a long grunt. You broke away from his thick lips and bit your lip. “Watch yourself disappear inside of me, it turns me on a lot.” Lifting your skirt up, you cupped his chin and tilted it down. You both watched as you slowly rose up and down on him. When you lifted up he was coated in your wetness and your pussy took everything he had as you sunk down.

“You’re so hot.” He spoke in amazement. You smiled and took his hands and placed them on your ass.

“Guide me.” You whispered and wrapped your arms around him. You laid your head sideways on his shoulder so you could watch him take your cheeks in his hands and push you up and down how he wanted. He liked his thrusts deep and slow. He dug so deep at one point he ground right into what you now discovered was your g spot. “Ah fuck, Stiles!” You cried quietly and whimpered as he ground against it again.

“You’re so tight, I’m gonna cum.” He whispered back to you. You began riding him faster, regardless of what his hands decided.

“Cum in me, Stiles. Come on.” You begged him as you purposely clenched around him numerous times. He let out another long grunt as you felt his cum fill you up. The sensation made you fall to your orgasm as well. “You’re so good, you’re so good.” You whimpered against his lips as you rode out your orgasm. When you finally stopped your put your hand against his cheek.

“Best birthday sex ever.” Stiles nuzzled his face into your hand and you fell in love immediately.

“Thank you.” You shook your head.

“No, thank you.”

PART ONE: https://chillassimagines.tumblr.com/post/176975393682/part-one-requested-liam-finally-it-was-your

PART TWO: https://chillassimagines.tumblr.com/post/177544626507/requested-scott-scott-get-up-scott-you

#imagines #preferences #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski smut #malia tate #malia tate smut #jordan parrish imagines #jordan parrish smut #theo raeken smut #theo raeken #teen wolf smut #chillassimagines

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sunlight (Bucky Barnes x OFC)

I wrote this for @geekandbooknerd​ birthday challenge! Yay! I know its a bit early but happy birthday! 

My prompt was “If there is anything, there is us. You and me. No one else.”- Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx. 

It kind of turned into a Avengers/X-Men crossover. So some mentions of X-Men characters but mostly about Bucky & OFC. 

Warnings: slight angst, brief mention of torture, all the fluff! 

Words: 3400

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Bucky stormed up to his best friend, leaving terrified SHIELD agents in his wake. He did not care about the scene he was making in the hallway of the Avengers Compound. His fear and fury overrode his concern to stay calm.

 "She ran off. Soon as we touched down, I tri…."

 Bucky turned on his heels, ready to sprint. He had to find her. He could listen to excuses and rational later. His mind and body drove him towards only one thing- to seek her out and offer comfort...until a hand clasped his shoulder, keeping him still. 

 "I'm sorry, Buck. We thought...I thought…" Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. He still wore his dirty uniform, not even having had a chance to clean up from the mission yet. "Things didn't go as planned. She did well. She...she was a help to have on the mission. Please let her know that."

 The brunet could only nod, every cell in his being screaming at him to go find his girl. Soon as Steve removed his hand, Bucky took off. 

 People practically leapt out of his way...which was smart on their account. He was not above running people over right now. He was used to his friends teasing him about his murder strut- their term, not his- about how it made people either run in fear of their lives or hyperventilate with lust. He tried to not think about it too much. Although it did have its uses on occasion. 

 Bursting out the nearest outside door, he ran using all his super soldier speed. He knew where she would be. More than one time she had called it a safe place, especially when it was sunny out. The buildings for the Avengers Compound flew by him. He vaguely thought he heard someone call his name but it did not matter. He had to get to his girl. 

 The first hints of autumn could be seen in the trees surrounding the Compound. Most were still green but swatches of color peeked through with their yellows and oranges. The underbrush made each step he took in his combat boots sound like a herd of elephants walked by but now he did not have to focus on moving silently. He wore tactical pants and a black t-shirt, having been working on extra security measures for the Avengers building when Steve called him. Immediately he dropped the StarkPad and ran, ignoring those he had been working with. 

 He passed the giant elm tree that always seemed otherworldly to him...then he could see her. He always wondered what made this spot special. There was nothing unique about it in the forest surrounding the Compound...except for a giant ass boulder. Deciduous trees surrounded the spot, creating an almost nature-made barricade around the small open area with the boulder in the middle. Sunlight shown directly on it, uninterrupted by branches or leaves. It almost looked like the eye of a hurricane, and maybe that was why she always came to this spot. It was peaceful. 

 And there she sat looking like a fairy from a children's story, minus the wings. Her Nordic blonde hair danced about her in the slight breeze, the long stands almost hypnotic in their movements. Her face was turned upward, facing the afternoon sun, like a flower seeking its warmth. Her slender arms were wrapped around her legs, her alabaster skin on full display with her bare feet, black leggings and navy tank top. She must have ditched the outer part of her uniform and ran, not even bothering to go back to her room to change first. 

 Standing just on the edge of the tree line, he could only stare, taken back by her beauty once again. He wished he was artistic like Steve to paint or sketch her. That he could somehow show her how gorgeous she was to him, to erase all those self-doubts she harbored still. Instead he strove to remind her every day in whatever way he could. 

 "Leyna!" He called out, having moved out of the trees into the open area surrounding the boulder. 

 She turned her head briefly to meet his eyes then turned her face back upward, soaking in the sunlight. 

 That quick look had been enough for him to see the dried tear streaks on her cheeks. He clambered up the rock, continuously amazed at how she was able to navigate the damn thing when she was so small. He was almost a foot taller than her and the stupid rock was tricky for him between the lack of handholds, lichen and moss that covered it. It was at least twice as tall as him, and three times as wide in some strange skinny oval shape. It vaguely reminded him of the kind of stones that were good for skipping rocks on top of water, but on a giant scale. 

 Once up, he walked towards where she sat in the middle, feeling the heat of the sun hitting him anew. Without a word, he sat behind her, placing himself so her back was to his chest, his legs outstretched and his flesh arm wrapped around her waist. Silently she leaned back into him, still facing the sun, eyes closed. He laid his cheek against the top of her head, his metal arm outstretched to stabilize them. 

 The only sounds were those of the birds singing around them, the occasional shout coming from the direction of the Compound and their own breathing. It was peaceful. Something both of them craved instinctively. 

 He waited for her, knowing this was more than just a quiet place to be. There was her place to "recharge", as she liked to call it, both physically and mentally. After several minutes, a faint golden shimmer surrounded her hands. Slowly she held out one of her hands and moved her fingers as if in a dance. 

 Watching her use her powers was one of his favorite things to do. She tried to explain it to him once, how her powers worked. Something how she could manipulate light photons and atoms to change their structure to become whatever she wished, either a solid creation or an illusion. It was about three PhD degrees above his head but he got the gist. He smiled remembering when she first met Bruce Banner and how the man almost wet himself, he was so excited to run experiments and lab tests on her and her powers. Bucky had never seen the man so thrilled. Then the time she met Loki and he learned she could do illusions also. He had jumped at the chance of a competition between them that left the Compound in a strange golden, greenish haze for two days because of the amount of magic used and atoms/photons messed with for the insane amount of illusions created. 

 Using both hands, she twirled and manipulated them in front of her, using the direct sunlight to create something. Sunlight was her life source. Yes, she needed to eat and drink like anyone else but she always joked she was like a solar-powered being. Without sunlight her powers faded to nothing and she would wither away. 

 His eyes remained glued to her hands as she worked, curious as to what she was making now. With a final flourish, a long dagger lay across her palms, dwarfing her hands. The handle was the deepest black while the blade itself had a slight curve and shone a brilliant silver in the sunlight. It had a slight etching on the silver that looked like artistic flames running along the outside. 

 "That one might be my new favorite." He nuzzled her neck, thoroughly enjoying the way she squirmed and giggled. He loved when she made him shiny, sharp things. 

 "Maybe I'll make you a matching set."

 He took the dagger from her, eyeing it hungrily before slipping it into his boot. Good thing the training room was open at all hours. He planned on experimenting with it later. 

 They sat in silence for a few more minutes before she spoke, drawing lazy circles on his arm still around her waist. 

 "Steve call you?"

 "He was worried." He kissed her hair lightly. "Wanna talk about it?"

 He could feel her hesitation then the story was whispered into the wind, her voice shaky. "There was a cell...I got separated from the others...Some...um, a few HYDRA soldiers managed to taze me, get me down...they covered my eyes...and got a chain on my wrist…" She took a deep breath, he squeezed her, knowing how hard this was for her. "Steve found me at that point, he took them out and helped me get away."

 "Oh baby, I'm so sorry." It was only after she mentioned her wrist, he peeked over her shoulder to see her right wrist that looked raw and red. Seeing her injury, he clenched his metal fist. Fury rolled through him like a steam train, anger at both HYDRA for trying to take her from him and himself for not being there to protect her. He pulled her closer to him with both arms, needing the reassurance she was still here, with him. 

 "I don't think I can do this anymore, Bucky." She suddenly choked out, tears falling afresh. "I don't...I can't go through that again. I'm not strong enough."

 "Leyna…we all have our triggers that remind us of our pasts. No one blames you."

 "I put the mission in danger."

 "Steve said you did well and that you were a help."

 She shook her head. "I don't think I can keep doing this."

 They sat in silence. He understood what was going through her mind. Hell, he dealt with it himself on a regular basis. The question of how much of one's past could still haunt their future. 

 Leyna had been found by the X-Men when they took down a cult who were kidnapping mutants. She had been chained to a wall in complete darkness, refused any source of sunlight or artificial light for months on end until she either gave them the information they wanted or she died. The X-Men had brought her back to the mutant school where she stayed to recover, since when they found her, she was barely conscious. When Charles examined her mind, he discovered she was not a mutant but an enhanced like Wanda Maximoff, though where she got her powers was unknown. Just over two years after being rescued and residing at the mutant school, Charles thought sending her to the Avengers would be the best for her and to begin creating a working relationship between the Avengers and the X-Men. Leyna was to be a sort of liaison between the two groups constantly saving the world. 

 It had been a year since she joined the Avengers and everyone acknowledged how quickly she fit it. Almost like she had been a missing puzzle piece that they had not realized was missing. 

 "Do...do you think they'll send me back? To Charles? He sent me here to help but…" Her voice dropped off, fear and uncertainty evident. 

 "I am sure the Professor would understand. And there are more ways than one to help. You don't have to be out in the field to be useful. I know I prefer when you don't go on missions. Sam had to sit on me this time so I wouldn't stow away on the ship and come with you."

 She giggled, her head resting on his shoulder. "I feel the same way when you leave for a mission. Wanda and I used to get drunk but after the...electrical incident, we're not allowed to anymore."

 He chuckled, "so that's what happened, huh? You guys said you tried to combine your powers or something."

 "Remember, we were drunk and apparently decided we wanted to have a dance party. So, I tried to create a disco ball and stroke lights while she was trying to do something with the music...but it all backfired."

 He openly laughed at that. "Doll, the two of you managed to blow out all the electricity in the Compound and even put FRIDAY offline for a bit. Tony was furious. Hell, I heard Wanda's room had to be completely renovated because of the power surge that went through it. Thankfully it had reinforced, special walls or whatever Tony calls them."

 "Why do you think she's been sleeping in Vision's room?"

 "That was...what, three months ago? And it's still not fixed?"

 She shrugged. "She doesn't feel rushed to return to her own room. "

 They lapsed back into silence, his arms still around her. Her face was still upturned, soaking in the afternoon sun. He watched her profile, in awe that someone as pure, selfless and fun would ever look at him twice. As he stared, he could see her lips pursing slightly while her brow furrowed. It broke his heart that she still struggled with such self-doubt. 

 "Leyna, turn around." At her hesitation, he ran his lips softly over the corner of her jaw. "Please."

 Slowly, she did. Turning around to straddle his waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck while his own hands gripped her hips to hold her. 

 "Look at me."

 It was only after his quiet command that she finally lifted her gaze from his chest. Her violet eyes always enthralled him, calling to some deep primitive part that wanted to bask in her light for the rest of his life. 

 "We're not gonna kick you out if you come off the field. Hell, you are one of our best at recon and observation. If that's all you want to do, the others will understand. Natasha will probably buy you a bottle of that Russian vodka that she loves cause she won't be the only one sent on those kinds of missions anymore. And even if that is too much, you have a great mind for tactics and seeing things others don't. You would be a benefit for working in the control room while we're on a mission. You'd have our backs still and could keep an eye out for things we might miss."

 "Charles sent me to help…" She hedged but he was having none of that. He gripped her chin, holding her gaze, hoping she would believe him and stay. Not just for the Avengers...but for him. 

 "And you would be. You've always been a huge help… Or would you prefer to go back to the School? Is that what you would prefer? I'm sure Logan would prefer that. He still hasn't forgiven me for having you be my girl."

 "He hasn't tried to kill you though."

 "What do you call what happened last time he came to check on you?" He demanded, eyeing her smirk. "Just a misunderstanding?"

 She laughed, massaging the back of his neck. "He only destroyed the couch. It could have been far worse."

 "Yeah, and I had been sitting on that couch! His claws were inches from my head!" 

 "Mmm...good thing you have such great reflexes." She leaned forward and pressed a teasing kiss to his lips. 

 His hands tightened on her hips. "Babydoll, you do that again and I'll show you what other great reflexes I have."

 "Outside?"

 "What? Ain't nobody around?"

 She swatted his chest, laughing before laying her head on his shoulder. "And if I just wanted to be with you? Not do anything...just be here with you?"

 "If there is anything, there is us. You and me. No one else." He lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes, the sunlight making them glow. "We can do whatever we want. Go wherever we want. Just us."

 "Mmm...and Steve." She hummed, tracing a finger lazily on his chest. 

 "What?"

 "You and me...and Steve. There is no way Steve would let us go off alone. He would miss his best friend too much and is too stubborn to let you go. He'd leave the Avengers first. Then Sam would be all offended and come along too since he and Steve are also best friends and I think secretly you and Sam are best friends but neither wants to acknowledge it. Natasha would hunt us down next. You know Peter would send us more of those little videos but they would be all sad and puppy eyes since wherever we are, I'm sure his Aunt May would not let him come. Plus, he's like the little brother I've always wanted… If Natasha finds us, Clint will show up eventually. Then Scott would too since Steve is with us. I swear I've never seen a bigger fangirl than Scott. Tony would crash at some point because well, it's Tony…"

 He cut her off, chuckling because however much he wanted to deny it. It was true. "Ok ok, I get the picture. Christ. I think we need some new friends."

 "Like Logan?"

 "I still can't believe you dated the Wolverine. I feel I should question your taste in men."

 "Hey! It was short lived and we both realized we were better as friends. Sides, if we're worried about my taste in men, what does that say about you?" She teased, a smile on her lips. 

 "You go for the tall, dark and handsome." 

 "That applies to Logan too...mmm...maybe I just prefer old guys?"

 "Alright, that's it!" He stood up, throwing her over his shoulder. "I come out here to take care of my best girl and what do I get...insults!" Carefully he jumped down to the ground, making sure not to jostle her too much with the impact. He started back towards the Compound, trying to control the smile on his face while listening to Leyna laughing over his shoulder. "See if I share my ice cream with you tonight."

 "Bucky…" she whined, wiggling against him, "that's mean."

 "Old guys...you've been spending too much time with Sam. Really need to get some new friends." He muttered mostly to himself. 

 "Put me down, Bucky."

 He set her on a nearby stump so she was actually eye level to him. Carefully he ran a hand through her blonde hair, loving that she let him play with it. "You know I meant it, what I said earlier."

 "I know, love." She cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

 He eagerly kissed her back, diving into her affections without hesitation. He loved the way she fit in his arms, the way her lips glided against his, how his heart threatened to explode with joy with just the mere thought of her. Although they had not yet said those three little words to one another, he knew it was true for him. She was perfect for him, and although she had her quirks that annoyed him and her own haunted past that gave her nightmares, he would not change anything about her.

 Finally, they broke apart, both breathing a little more heavily and dopey smiles on both their faces. He would love to stay here with her, just the two of them and kiss her senseless or until he removed any self-doubt she still struggled with. The Avengers' part of his mind reminded him that she had run out to the forest before the debrief which would be a headache in itself if they did not return soon. He sighed, lamenting that this moment had to end. "Come on, doll. Let's get you back. Steve will want to check in with you."

 "Ok…"

 He stepped away for her to jump down but she did not move. 

 "Doll…" That grin on her face spelled trouble, he just knew it. 

 "I'm tired...can you give me a piggyback ride?"

 He raised an eyebrow at her. 

 She smiled sweetly, hands clasped in front of her and swaying slightly. Between the delicate features, small stature and purple eyes, she really did look like a damn fairy. 

 "Fine…"

 She squealed as she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Just as he thought about protesting loudly, she smacked a loud kiss on his cheek then giggled. Who was he kidding, he would do anything for her. 

 If he had to give a few death glares and mild threats in the future to suppress jokes about the Winter Soldier giving piggyback rides…that was not his fault. 

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Hayley'sBirthday #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #james barnes x ofc #fluff #mzwrites

[thedevilsruby]

Mine (NSFW Clierra oneshot)

"Cliff, please, listen!"

For once, Cliff ignored the pleading of the girl he had grown to adore. He kept stomping off to his apartment, too furious to think properly.

"Cliff, wait!" Sierra pleaded, clinging to to his muscular arm, desperation in her voice and those gorgeous brown eyes.  

Those damn eyes. One of the reasons he fell so hard for her.

He dragged them both in, slamming the door closed. "We have only been official for a month and I find out you're seeing other guys at the bar?!" Cliff growls, whirling around so they can make eye contact.

Sierra bites her lip at the ferocity in his voice. He only ever used that tone when someone badmouthed Giovanni or backtalked him. He never used it on her until now. "It's not what you think!" She pleads. "He kept coming onto me even though I told him I was taken, and I thought you-"

"Enough, Sierra!" Cliff snapped. "Just leave...I need to think." 

There was a tense silence between them. The only thing heard was Cliff's furious breathing. 

Then a sniffle.

Cliff slowly turned around to see her hugging her chest tightly, shaking. His eyes widened in surprise, when did she become so vulnerable? "Sierra...?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"I...I should have known it was too good to last..." She said, her voice trembling, a lump in her throat. "I'm going to be alone again..." She whispered.

"What?" Cliff asked, unsure of what to do. "What do you mean...?"

"You're going to leave!" She yelled, breaking into sobs, making Cliff jump. "All the guys who sad they loved me always left! Even when I was telling the truth!! I thought you were different!" She sobbed out, collapsing to her knees. 

Cliff's chest clenched in guilt. He never even let her finish her story. He was so angry. He saw the guy and instead of helping her get out of there, he only thought of himself and stormed away. 

Fuck.

Cliff immediately cradled her, letting her sob into his chest. "No, no, no, baby! Please don't cry!"

"Don't leave! Please don't leave!" She screamed in a way that broke his heart further. "I won't look at anyone else, I swear! Please don't leave me alone! I love you!!" She was begging at this point, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go.

Spirits above, what have I done?

"Sierra, I'm sorry!" He cried out, close to tears himself. He had done the one thing he swore would never do. Hurt her.

"Sierra, I should have protected you. I should have gotten you away from him. Instead, I saw the worst when you needed me. I'm so sorry. " He whispered, rocking her back and forth, stroking her hair.

It took awhile for her weeping to die down into sniffles.  She wiped her eyes of the remaining tears.

"I'm so sorry, Sierra. I don't know if I can ever make this up to you." Cliff sighed, rubbing his smooth scalp as he heard her sniffles die down. "But you mean so much to me,  seeing you with that man...I got so angry. I want us to make this work, even if I fuck up at the worst of times. You shouldn't have to suffer because of my mistakes. I love you." He whispered. "But if you want to leave-"

He was cut off by a hard kiss. His eyes widened at the fact she was kissing him after what he had done. There was no screaming, no breaking up or anything. She just kissed him.

That's when she broke away and pushed him onto the floor on his back, making him let out a small 'oomf.'  "Sierra...?" He asked, looking at her, unsure.

"Make it up to me." She said quietly, moving up to straddle him. He looked up at her in surprise as she started moving her hips against his, biting her lip and a look of ecstasy in her eyes.

"Sierra..." He whispered, his hands roaming her sides, stopping at her hips.

"Cliff, make it up to me..." She hissed again, grabbing his large hands so they were holding her still clothed breasts. He hissed, feeling how hard he was getting through his slacks.

"Are you sure...? He asked hesitantly, not wanting to take advantage of her. 

"Please...I need your touch..." She whispered, grinding her hips harder, whimpering as she felt the growing bulge between her legs. "Love me."

Cliff couldn't resist it. He pulled her down and kissed her passionately. He was going to make it up to her alright. "You know I love you." He murmured, pulling at her purple dress. Thanks stars she opted not to wear a bra for this dress.

Sierra mewled as Cliff's mouth dove for her breasts, kissing, sucking and nibbling on her nipples. She moved so she could remove his shirt, admiring his muscular torso and arms. Hands that could easily bruise but were forever gentle with her. 

She gasped as he suddenly flipped her so that he was on top of her, his hands trailing down her chest to her stomach, just stopping at the tip of her pantylines. "Cliff, please..." Sierra whispered desperately.

Cliff smirked. "Since when does Giovanni's top confidant beg her bodyguard?" He teased. The Grunts and their fellow Leader Arlo had teased him about being protective over Sierra long even before they started dating. "Well, someone has to guard Boss's favorite Leader." He would shrug.

"Cliff!" She whined, bucking her hips towards him, biting her lip. "Ok, ok." He chuckled, peeling her underwear off and tossing it aside. He looked down at her core, deciding to tease her more by rubbing a circle with his thumb. "So wet for me." He hissed.

"Cliff, for the love of Spirits-!" She tried to protest, only to throw her head back and bite her index finger to keep from screaming when his tongue suddenly came into contact with her clit.

He held her hips down when they started bucking harder. He looked up at her as he worked his tongue, watching her face lost in the ecstasy he was bringing. She tried to scream for him but only squeals and whimpers came out. 

"Stars, Cliff!" She moaned, grabbing at the back of his head, pressing him further into her.  She gasped as the tip of his tongue brushed against her clit, teasing her. "Darling, please, you know what I want!" She whined, panting heavily.

He smirked at her, pulling his head away. She whimpered in desperation of his touch. "Baby...!" She whined.

He suddenly growled and pinned her down, looking her straight in the eye, fiery brown meeting lust hazed golden brown. 

"You're mine!" He roared, kissing her passionately once more before she could reply.

"I'm yours, now and forever." She thought as their tongues swirled around each other.  She would give up everything she owned for him. She'd give up her position at Team Rocket Headquarters if it meant staying by his side.

She would-Oh spirits!

She gasped as she felt something brush against her and looked down, seeing the tip of his cock poking at her inner thigh. He smirked at her. "Well...?" He asked, raising an amused eyebrow at the lust filled expression on her face.

She nodded eagerly, hugging onto his shoulders for dear life. "Take me, Cliff." She whimpered. "Make me yours as you always do."

He couldn't deny his queen, so he positioned himself at her entrance.  He looked into her eyes one more time, cradling her cheek in his hand. "I love you."

Her head flew back once more and she didn't even stop herself from screaming his name as he entered her. Ecstasy blinded her as he started to thrust, he held the back of her head, gently guiding it forward so he could lean their foreheads together.

"You're mine." He snarled once again, but this time, much quieter. He quickens his thrusts for her. "I swear to Legendaries, another man even looks at you the wrong way, they're getting my foot in their ass, no one looks at my baby..."

His voice faded out as lust and desire took over Sierra. She and Cliff have only had sex a handful of times but it was always so passionate. He cared if she felt good during it and stopped when she requested it. And he understood when she wasn't in the mood and simply held her and stroked her hair.

She wanted this. No, she needed this to be her forever. 

Her thoughts were cut short as Cliff kissed her cheek, oblivious to her getting lost in thought. "You're perfect." He panted, taking her legs and wrapping them around his waist before going harder. "Stars, Cliff!!" She screamed out.

Cliff suddenly gripped her hands, looking at her. "Sierra..." He breathed. Sierra knew exactly what he needed. 

She squeezed his hands back, brushing their noses together. "Cum for me, Cliff." She whispered.

"Together." He whispered back, she could only nod, the lust and love taking out her ability to speak.

A deep grunt from Cliff,  a gasp from Sierra and they both finished. 

He slowly pulled himself out, and collapsed next to her as they panted hard. She clung to him tightly, chest heaving.

"Cliff..." She whispered.

"This is all so different..." She didn't realize she said that aloud, with the way he looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?" He asked softly.

She gulped and bit her lip. Did he really want to hear about her life on the streets? All he really knew was she grew up under difficult circumstances and she had to fend for herself a lot. She never told him all the details.

"Might as well have an honest start." She thought, conflicted eyes meeting worried and curious eyes. She took a deep breath and sat up to face him. 

"All my ex boyfriends never treated me the way you do. They would hurt me in every way possible." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "They would apologize the next day, and I was stupid enough to believe they meant it when they said it would never happen again.  But I left when they broke that promise and I would be alone again." She said, hugging her chest tightly again, shuddering as she remembered every hit and hurtful word her exes spewed at her. "That's why I broke down. I thought you would leave too."

Cliff's heart hurt more than before. "I triggered her by telling her to leave." He mentally kicked his own ass as he started to chastise himself. "Way to go, you fucking idiot. You probably scarred her for life. Now she probably hates us and wants to leave-"

"But then you apologized," She said suddenly. "And you meant it."

Cliff snapped out of it and looked at her, she had a nervous smile as she looked at him. "Of course I did." He said softly, cradling her cheeks and leaning their foreheads together once again. "I'll always mean it when I apologize. I didn't mean to hurt you." He said, guilt settling in once again.

"It's up to both of us to work out. We need to figure things out together." She said quietly, looping her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist so she could settle into his lap. "We can do this." She said quietly but firmly.

"Yeah...we can do this." He agreed, kissing her gently. "I love you." "I love you too." She sighed happily, knowing that the cycle of abuse she had endured was over now.

They could both be happy now. It was them against the world.

--

I’m a ho for this pairing, can you tell?

But I needed my dose of possessive Clierra NSFW! I hope this pleased you too! 

#pokemon #pokemon go #leader sierra #leader cliff #team go rocket leader sierra #team go rocket leader cliff #cliff x sierra #sierra x cliff #clierra

[inorganicone2230]

Divine Intervention (Part 6) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 5 Part 7/Finale

Summary: Sometimes a little divine intervention is necessary to take back the ones we love… weather they want it or not.

Warnings: NON-CON AHEAD!!!, mentions of suicide, kidnapping, forced poly relationship, emotional and mental manipulation, possible trigger warnings, see tags below for more…

Side Note: I do not and never will condone the actions committed in this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

⚠️THERE IS NON-CON AHEAD!!! READ AHEAD AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!!⚠️

Shouta flashed you a dirty smile, “Our worst huh?” He reached out to run his knuckles along your cheek, he saw in your eyes how badly you wished to be able to turn away from him and some part of him was deeply satisfied that you could not, that he had this level of control over you. You were their lovely obedient little doll and he couldn't wait for them to ruin you. “I rather think we are going to be giving you our best. Is that not right, Zashi?”

Your breath hitched as long slim fingers began to caress your thighs inching closer and closer to your center while Hizashi hummed his agreement into your sensitive ear. “Our very best.”

“Would you like to know what I had in mind for earlier, why I went and got her little accessory for her? I just know we are all going to enjoy it.”

“I highly fucking doubt that.” You spat. They ignored you.

The words caused waves of excitement to roll off of the blond however as his breathing picked up a notch and he pressed his aching cock into your lower back. “Of course I do! You have kept me on the edge all this time, now tell me Shouta. Don't make me beg.”

A deep chuckle left the dark haired man's lips at hearing the eagerness in his lover's voice, but he figured that he should be kind and not draw out his suffering any longer. “Didn't you say earlier that you were dying to have a taste of her?”

“Please tell me this is going where I think it is Shou?” He sounded so desperate and needy.

Shouta’s eyes flashed red again, though this time in lust rather than frustration. “If you are so eager to find out, then lay down with your head near the edge of the bed.”

You were surprised that the blond didn't fumble in his haste. Moving from behind you to lay as he was told, his long golden hair fanned out around him like a halo. You realize how ironic that comparison is, considering that the two are more monster than angel, their apparent divinity notwithstanding.

Shouta’s nimble fingers began to untie his trousers and let them drop. He took great pleasure in the way your eyes zeroed in and widened upon seeing  his cock as it sprung free. “How about it Zashi? You taste her, while she tastes me.”

You froze, another memory from the past reminding you that, while the two of them enjoyed fucking you mercilessly, what they really loved was all the foreplay that came beforehand. Weather it was giving it or reviving it. And the thought of taking The Death Gods massive girth into your unwilling mouth was positively revolting when you recall how he would make you swallow his finish.

Hizashi meanwhile seemed more than amicable to what his counterpart was suggesting. “Do you even have to ask.” Just the thought of delving his tongue into your tight warm cunt was enough to make his mouth water, but to include being able to look up and watch Shouta fuck your sweet little mouth while he did the same to you, that alone almost made him cum right than and there.

You knew what was coming before the words had even left Shouta’s lips and you wished more than anything that you could block out the sound of their voices. “Climb over him and sit on his face (Y/N), show us that pretty pussy of yours so he can get you ready for us. We promised you pleasure, and we fully intend on delivering.”

Your body moves of its own accord, it's a strange sensation, to feel yourself move like normal but with no control over the movements. Your knees slide across the smooth silk of the sheets as you inch your way over to Hizashi’s form, lifting one leg to climb and settle yourself over his smug face. Without warning, his nose immediately burying itself in your still clothed sex and groans, “You smell so good babe, I am going to fucking eat you alive.” You cringe at his use of this new nickname and you silently wonder if you could suffocate him by dropping all your weight onto his face. The fucker would probably die with that cocky smile still in place.

Your train of thought is interrupted however, when you suddenly feel your panties being torn away, cool air hitting your newly exposed skin. Your eyes shooting up to glare daggers at a smirking Shouta who twirls the torn fabric around his finger before tossing them away. “Don't look at me like that Kitten, it's not as if you needed them anymore.” He said, stepping closer to the bed. “I know I said I you could voice your protests, but for now we are going to need you to keep them to yourself, at least until we are done with this. After all, those lips of yours are going to be rather busy in a moment.” He reached out and gripped the back of your head, bringing your face closer to his twitching cock and rubbing the swollen head against your lips, coating them with pre-cum, “Now suck. And do be mindful of your teeth.” He ordered.

You felt nauseous as your lips parted and he slowly pushed his way into your warm wet mouth. He threw back his head at the exquisite feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his cock. It was not an easy thing and your jaw was already straining, tears welling up in your eyes. He wasn't as long as Hizashi, but he was extremely thick. So thick in fact that you remembered even Hizashi’s long fingered hands were just barely able to wrap all the way around him.

Speaking of your other tormentor, apparently he decided that he had been ignored long enough when he gave your pussy an experimental lick that had your hips bucking. He swore his eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the heavenly taste. “I knew you would taste just as good as you look. It's such a pretty pussy (Y/N), all pink and your clit is even swollen, like it's begging for me to suck it.” He wasted no more time as he enthusiastically began sucking and licking at your quickly dampening cunt,swirling his tongue around your clit.

The blonds actions below you had you moaning as your mind went blank for a moment. The sound causing a pleasant vibration to run up Shouta’s cock as he started to thrust just a little deeper into your waiting throat. “O-oh fuck, she is certainly enjoying whatever you are doing to her down there Zashi, don't-don’t stop.”

Hizashi chuckled against your dripping entrance, “I wasn't planning on it. She's far too sweet to let even one drop go to waste. It's like eating fucking candy.” He did take a moment to pause and look up at you both. The sight had his cock throbbing in anticipation. Shouta’s head was thrown back in bliss as his hands fisted in your hair, tugging you back and forth across the portion of his huge dick that could fit in your mouth. You were even better in his eyes, your plump lips wrapped around his thrusting cock as drool dribbled down your chin and neck, little trails of it running through the valley of your breasts. The movements caused your tits to shake in time with your bobbing head and he couldn't resist sliding his hands up from your thighs in order to pinch and fondle the bouncing treats while his lips and tongue sought out your clit again.

The whimpers and moans were involuntary, you knew that, but still hated it all the same. You hated feeling anything even remotely pleasant during this, no matter if it was just reactionary. You couldn't deny that, while you were thoroughly disgusted by the abuse your mouth was taking, The God of Life really did know how to use his. His kept moving his tongue back and forth, one minute fucking your hole with the long flexible muscle, and the next swirling it around your clit. You were nearing the edge and you prayed to any other Deity that might be listening  that neither of them would notice. If they made you cum so soon, it was only going to fuel their drive to make it happen more and more.

Shouta was already so very close, the feel of your warm wet lips stretching over his cock and the subtle vibrations that your moaning caused were quickly driving him straight into his first release of the night. It wouldn't be long now, but before that happened, there was one more thing he wanted from you. Forcing his eyes open, he looked down at you and nearly cam right then and there. You were breathtaking, head bobbing on his cock, tears and saliva running down your cheeks and chin, glimpses of Hizashi eating your sweet cunt like it was his last meal. But he only needed one thing to make the image perfect.

“Look up at me.” You did, unwillingly, but you did. And you tried to convey how much you you were sickened by him while doing so. Shouta found it endearing how you tried to look so disgruntled while sucking him off. “Now don't look at me like that Kitten, I just want to see your full expression when you swallow my seed and Zashi makes you cum.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Do you think you can get her off soon Zashi?”

The golden haired god smirked against your dripping folds, “I think I can manage that. She's already tensing up. She will be screaming for us in no time.” He said, dropping his hands back down to grip your inner thighs before resuming his pleasurable task. He felt you clenching down on his tongue every time he swirled it deep inside you and he couldn't stop imagining what it would be like to finally fill you with his cock. To feel your soft tight insides wrap around him while he fucked you into endless oblivion and pumped you full of cum. You were so wet for them right now that he had no doubt about how easily he could slip himself inside you. The thoughts had him pulling you harder against his face in a mad effort to finish you off as quickly as possible, because as much as he wanted to feel you cum on his face, he wanted you to cum on his cock even more.

You screamed around Shouta’s cock when you felt Hizashi’s tongue press even deeper into your hole, the sensations spreading like a wildfire through you as your traitorous body began to buck even harder against his face. Your mind hated the feelings they were forcing on you, but your body was unconsciously seeking gratification, striving to have that coil deep in your belly unwind. And if he kept going at this pace, it wouldn't be much longer.

Shouta’s grip on your hair tightened as he felt the telltale tightening of his sack, indicating his oncoming release and he began to thrust even harder into your mouth. “You're such a good girl letting me fuck your face like this, you're doing so well, I am going to cum soon.”

It was all too much, between the choking pace Shouta was setting in your mouth, Hizashi working his mouth over your drenched cunt and the filthy words they spoke, it was all you could take as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Spine bending, you would have thrown your head back to cry out if it wasn't for Shouta’s hold on your hair pushing you even further down his cock as you felt his hot seed hit the back of your throat.

You were breathtaking, moaning so sweetly around him, eyes wide open and still watching his face, back arched, hips still moving erratically over the blonds face as he worked you down from your high, and the best part was feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He could see the way your throat contracted as you swallowed it. “That's it sweetheart,” He coaxed, petting your hair with one hand while the other stroked your cheek. “drink it all. You're going to down every last drop.” He slowly pulled out of your mouth only once he was sure you had drank it all. You sputtered and coughed, sucking air back into your greedy lungs. His hand continued to gently stroke your cheek as he smiled down on you with affection. “You took your punishment so well Kitten, I think a performance like that deserves a reward, don't you?”

Now that your mouth was free, you could feel whatever control the collar had over your voice fading. “You should drop dead is what I think.” You wheezed, your voice sounding dry and horse, not nearly as angry and confident as you wanted it to.

Reaching down, The God of Death hoisted you up by your thighs so Hizashi could sit up, before gently laying you back down on the bed. “Just keep your eyes on us.” That was all he said as he turned to grab Hizashi by the back of the neck to bring him in for a deep kiss. You watched their lips and tongues slide together in an effortless dance as Shouta began to remove the blonds trousers and give his long length a few pumps. Even without the memories or dreams, you would have been hard pressed to try and deny the obvious love the two had for one another. Every touch and caress they laid on each other, weather gentle or rough, was filled with care. You only wished they could have left you out of it.

“Can you taste her on me Shou? Isn't she delicious?” Hizashi asks, his voice husky as Shouta takes his time licking the remnants of your juices off his partners face. “She really does. I’ll have to try it straight from the source later on.” He turned a devilish smirk your way, “It's the least I can do after she sucked my cock so well.”

“But first, it's my turn. I have been patient and waited long enough to have her Shou. You just sit back and enjoy the show, join us when your ready to go again.” Hizashi kissed him once more before turning back to you. 

The closer he got, the more your panic began to set in. You knew you were truly about to lose your virginity to them once again when he brought two fingers to your opening and pushed them in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion as he began to thrust and scissor them inside you, stretching you in preparation for his cock. “Please! Please stop!” You screamed, even as he brought you to orgasm a second time before removing the digits and sucking them off. 

You were spent and in one final last ditch attempt to end this madness you whispered a begging plea. “Please don't Hizashi, I don't want to do this. I’ll do anything, just please stop. Don't take this any further.” Tears fell down your cheeks as he ignored your words and settled himself between your legs, pulling you by your hips till your entrance was lined up with his cock.

He was practically vibrating as he brought you closer and closer to his throbbing dick. But he did take notice when you began to cry, big fat crocodile tears running down your cheeks as you begged him to stop. Deep down, some long buried part of him knew that this was wrong, that he should have ended it the moment you told them to. But a much larger part, the part that loved you, the part that was irrevocably and undeniably obsessed with you, told him that this was just a one time thing. That after tonight you would be sharing their bed with them willingly, that they would never again have to forcefully tie you down to make love to you. That was the part of himself he chose to listen to when he sets his eyes on you, a bittersweet smile adorning his handsome face as he brushes away your tears.

“That's not going to happen Sweetling. I really wish this first time could be different, but your just too stubborn to see the truth. Just lay back and enjoy it, I know I will be.” He presses the head against your tight entrance and in one go slides in all the way to his base before bottoming out. “Ah fuck!” He cries out at the feel of you squeezing down on him so well already. “We made sure the medicine we gave you earlier would erase the pain for you. You won't feel any discomfort.” He gasps into your ear and presses his chest against yours.You don't respond, too shocked by the feel of him filling you up and stretching you so well and the sheer overwhelming pleasure that comes with it.

He uses that as a distraction to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth and swallowing your cries for the next few moments before pulling back to grab your hips and slam into you, forcing your body to meet him thrust for thrust. “You feel so good and wet wrapped around me. Like my own personal cock-sleeve.” He feels a twisted kind of satisfaction watching you come undone like this. Bright green eyes taking in the way your breasts bounce with every thrust, the way your mouth hangs open while you moan and pant, your flushed skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, and best of all is watching his dick slide in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

Meanwhile, Shouta was getting hard again. From his position at the end of the bed, he could see the way Hizashi’s dick pounded into your dripping wet cunt. And the way you were moaning and crying, out of your mind from the near instant overload of pleasure, it was like music to his ears. He couldn't wait anymore! He got on the bed and touched Hizashi’s back. “May I join in?”

The other man never broke his demanding pace as he turned to face the second love of his life. “Took you long enough. You must have really spent yourself that first go round.” He teasingly mocked his better half. “What can I say, it felt like she sucked out a piece of my soul. What man wouldn't need a bit of a rest after that.” Shouta shot back.

You register that they are speaking, but the words go over your head. You were drowning, never before -not even in the past- had you experienced these levels of intense arousal. The throbbing ache between your legs was only getting stronger the longer the blonde pounded into you. It was like something was keeping you right on the edge but not letting you topple over the precipice. More than once you almost caved and would consider giving in, begging them to let you cum again… but you forced that urge down. You would not give in.

You were so wrapped up in trying to control your raging desire and keep yourself in check that you almost didn't notice when Hizashi suddenly rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him. And with your arms still tied behind your back, you could do nothing more then lay there on top of him as he fucked you tirelessly from this new angle that hit your g-spot and -unfortunately- has you screaming out in ecstasy.

“That's right, sing for us Baby. Let us hear those pretty notes.” The blonde praises, rewarding you by hitting that spot several more times as he plants his feet on the bed and thrusts upward with even more force than before, while his hand finds its way between your bodies to seek out your clit, rubbing it furiously. “Cum for me (Y/N)! I want you to squeeze down on my cock so hard that you never forget who it is that your tight little pussy belongs to! It's ours, only ours!”

This third orgasm hits you fast and hard, it leaves you as nothing more than a gasping, quivering mess as you do exactly what he order and clench down on him so hard that your mildly amazed you didn't snap the appendage right off. But, as tired and exhausted as you are, you know he's not done, neither of them are. He’s still hard inside you and you know that means your in for far more.

“My sweet darling girl. I hope you're not too tired, I still need to finish. And Shou still needs to have a chance after all.” He gives a soft a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Good thing we can have a go at the same time.”

You don't like the sound of that. “Wait w-what does that m-mean?”

Your question is answered when Hizashi runs his hands down your back to your ass. He takes a soft cheek in each hand and gives them both a firm squeeze before spreading them apart. “Instead of telling you, how about we just let him show you.”

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he is implying and your eyes widen when it dawns on you. “NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!” Your scream is deafening and you fight with every ounce of strength oh have to try and get away, but all you can do is lay there, their orders from earlier still locking you in place.

You felt Shouta’s presence behind you right before his broad back was pressed against your own and his breath was hot against ear. “Don't fret Kitten, I'll make sure that this is one of the best experiences of your life. I promise there will be no pain.” 

However lethargic you were still feeling from the multiple orgasms, it was pushed to the back of your mind in favor of panicking. “You two are fucking sick, you know that?! You claim to love me, yet here I am begging you to not use me like some sex toy, and your still going through with it anyway! You're just proving my point more and more with every violation.” You truly wished that you could do more than lay there like a limp rag doll. “Admit it! Neither of you really loves me. You just wanted someone else to fuck and you use the excuse of loving me as a way to make yourselves feel better about it!” You all lay there in silence for a moment and you think maybe they are just ignoring you like always. A sharp pain tells you otherwise when Shouta pulls your head back by your hair and angry words are spat at you.

“Say whatever you want tonight (Y/N), but do not ever accuse us of not loving you. If all we wanted was someone else to fuck we would have simply found a whore to use and then throw away.” You tense up at the feel of Shouta smearing something slimy and wet between your cheeks. “We are going to give you a reason to never doubt that again, we are going to fucking ruin you. And you are going to love every second of it, you are going to be so thoroughly fucked by the end of this that you won't even remember your own name.” He finishes his declaration by slowly beginning to insert one of his thick fingers into your puckered hole while Hizashi begins to once again thrust into your still sensitive pussy. It doesn't take long for either of them to build your pleasure back up again and you soon find your mind going blank once more as the onslaught of desire crashes down on you.

Little by little he pushes it it just a tad bit deeper until he's in all the way to the knuckle. You realize that he was right, there is a strange pressure to be sure, but it's not painful. In a way, you wish that it was. That would make it easier to stay focused.

Shouta is moving his finger now, trying to stretch you out as much as possible. He knows that fitting his huge size inside this tight little hole is going to be no easy task. But it was one he was more than willing to take on, he thinks with a smirk, feeling the way his cock throbs every time you clench around his finger. Soon enough though, he's taken all he can of fingering your second hole, and while he knows that he could do a bit more to prepare you, his desire to be inside you is simply to strong. Besides, he thinks, smearing some more of the lube onto his dick for good measure, the lubricant acted in much the same way as your medicine did and would drown out any pain from his penetration. You may feel an immensely heavy pressure considering his size, but that was the extent of it.

You felt Shouta climb up behind you, sweeping your hair over your shoulder as he begins to lay gentle kisses to the back of your head, your neck, and your shoulders right before you feel him take hold of your hips. He rubs himself between your cheeks, squeezing the pump flesh of your ass against his girth and moaning at the feeling. Fear grips you hard when you realize just how big he is. Stretching your mouth around him had been hard enough, but this… this would tear you apart, your body would never be the same after this. You begin to shake your head. “Please no… you're not going to fit… t-there's no way it will go in. Stop! Stop! STO-” Your shrill screams are cut short when he starts to slowly push his way inside, the breath all but gone from your lungs and a choked gasp is torn from your lips.

“So… fucking… tight…” It takes all his will power not to blow his load right then and there once he begins to lightly thrust his hips in time with Hizashi, sliding deeper inside with every movement. He has been inside Hizashi countless times but even that can't compare to the way you feel wrapped around him. You're just so perfect!

Hizashi is a fucking sex addict and even he almost blows it when he feels Shouta finally settle all the way inside of you. There is only a thin wall of flesh separating their dicks inside you and to Hizashi, it's one of the best damn things he has ever felt. “Shit! I didn't think she could get any tighter… but fucking hell Shou…” His eyes are blown wide and his thrusts have a noticeable tremble as he loses his rhythm for a moment before picking it back up.

The both of them smirked at each other, reveling in pleasure every time you tremble or clench around their cocks. The sweet noises they force from you spur them to move faster and harder inside your body and they can do nothing more then sing your praises.

“The way you feel around my cock is amazing! It's like you were made for it!”

“You're being such a good girl, it makes me want to fuck you even more.”

“You're so good and wet baby, I can't wait to cum inside you, watch it leak out. Maybe Shouta will be nice and clean you up with his mouth afterwards. Wouldn't that be a sight?”

“Your ass, your cunt, your belly, your body. You're going to be filled with and drenched in our cum by the end of the night!”

You can't think of anything beyond what is happening right at that moment. Three sets of moaning voices, skin slapping against skin, two huge cocks vigorously pumping inside your dripping holes, and the absolute mind numbing pleasure it brings with it. It's more than the human mind should be able to handle you think as you lay limply between them. “P-please, no-no more… I can't t-take anymore… just finish already… I’m beg-begging you… it's too much…”

Shouta pulls you by your bound arms till your sitting up, back against his chest as he wraps one arm around your shoulders and keeps the other on your hip. “We could spend hours more inside your wonderfully wet body, fucking you mercilessly. So if you want us to finish, you're going to have to make it worth our while.” He breathes into your ear before moving down litter your neck and shoulders with hickeys.

“H-how!? Please just tell me! I'll do a-anything, just make it stop already!” You cry out at this new angle, every thrust and movement they make is hitting you in all the right places and you can feel yourself on the edge of yet another orgasm as they show no sign of stopping until you give in.

“It's not that hard (Y/N).” Hizashi picks up where Shouta left off, reaching his hands up to squeeze your tits in his greedy hands as he imagines what it would feel like to have these soft mounds rubbing up and down on his cock while you suck on the head. “All you have to do is beg. Beg for us to make you cum, beg for us to fuck you harder, beg for us to pump your beautiful body full with our seed. That's all it will take to finish this.”

You feel so conflicted. On the one hand, you wanted to stick to your guns and not give in to their demands; but on the other, you wanted them to end this torture… you needed them to end it. You knew that they weren't bluffing, they really could keep going for hours more if they wanted to. You almost weep at the thought, your body's senses were already overstimulated beyond belief and you were scared that anymore and you would break. They were going to break you, the only question was whether your mind could withstand it or not.

You've been quiet for too long, the only sounds reverberating in the room are your moans and pants. And while the two of them love hearing those sounds, what they really want to hear is the sound of your breathless voice saying all the things they've been dreaming of. Perhaps you just need a bit of encouragement, a little incentive to let those words roll off that pretty little tongue of yours.

Simultaneously, both Shouta and Hizashi slow their thrusts to something less intense. Pulling out oh so slowly and then driving back home with one sharp snap of their hips, making sure that you would feel every single inch of their movements inside you. It's just as agonizing for them as it is for you, but if it gets them what they want then so be it.

You hate yourself for what you are about to do, and you hate them even more for forcing you into this situation. You tell yourself that you have no choice, that you're only doing this out of self preservation. If you don't, it will take even longer to stop, and in the end, breaking your vow to not give in is more preferable than letting them break your spirit entirely. After all, you tell yourself, it's not like this will change anything, you still despise. And when they realize how little things have changed come morning, you hope that the looks on their faces will be worth this.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight as tears brought on by both shame and sexual frustration fall down your cheeks, you manage to speak. “P-Please… please fuck me harder, m-make me cum… I-I want you both to fill me up w-with your cum and paint my insides white… J-just do whatever you want… End this already! Please! Please! Please!”

They're only whispers, each phrase leaves your lips combined with a broken sob, but they echo in the ears of the two deities and it leaves them vibrating. The sound of your soft pleading voice begging them to ravish you breaks what little self control they have as they roar in victory, pistoning their hips even harder than before, making you scream and thrash in wild abandon.

Shouta releases your arms in favor of holding your hips in a near bruising grip, pounding into your ass with inhuman strength and speed while he looks down on you with possessive red eyes. “Now was that so hard Kitten? All you had to do was ask.” He can't contain his own emotions at hearing you say these things. And while he knows that they basically forced you to speak them this time, he also believes that you'll be saying them on your own by the end. “And since you're behaving so well now, we are going to give you exactly what you are asking for.”

Hizashi wraps his arms around your back, holding you close to his chest as he fucks up into your dripping wet cunt. He is feeling much the same as his counterpart as he thinks, finally, they have made some progress with you! “That's my good girl, your pussy is clenching down on me like a fucking vice, can't wait to hear you scream our names.” He babbles, his speech much less controlled than Shouta’s.

Their cocks are hitting deeper inside your welcoming body with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer towards your fourth orgasm of the night as an endless crescendo of incoherent sounds are forced out of you. You know that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be enjoying this in any way, shape or form. But now that you've started, you just can't stop begging for it. “Please! Let-Let me cum already! I'll do anything, wh-whatever you want!” Even with your release quickly approaching, you're willing to say whatever they want if it means an end to this torment.

“How could we ever deny you when you're asking oh so nicely.” Shouta replies, pulling you back up against his chest so Hizashi can have better access to your clit. Hizashi wears a dirty grin when he hears the sounds you make as he starts to lightly flick your clit, not enough to send you hurtling over the edge, but just enough to make the ache all the more prominent. If you're going to do what he says, he needs you to be so out of your god-damn mind that you won't even realize what's happening until it's too late. “You said you'd do anything to end this right?” Your not even hearing the words, you just know that he spoke and you nod your head without thinking, simply agreeing with everything they say and hoping it's the responses they were looking for.

The two smile at each other knowing that they finally have you right at the point of no return and it's time to go in for the kill. With the blonde adding just a little more pressure to your overstimulated clit, Shouta roars in your ear, “Then scream for us! Scream our names when you cum and we fill you up! Tell us that you love us, how you can't live without us!” He punctuates each demand with a hard thrust of his hips and it takes some serious effort on his part to make sure that the collar doesn't react to his voice. He could easily make you say these things with its influence, but where's the fun in that, he thinks.

His words ring loudly in your mind causing you to hesitate for just a moment and Hizashi is having none of that as he removes his thumb from you nub, “It's fine if you don't say it, I personally wouldn't mind spending a few more hours like this with you and I think Shouta agrees with me.”

That's what does it, the prospect of putting up with this for hours longer and the loss of stimulation to your clit sends you into a fit of pleasure induced madness and in your current mindless state you give in, “I love you! I love you both! Shouta, Hizashi, please let me cum already! I-l need you to cum inside me!” The pressure is immediately returned to your clit, harder than before, their thrusts becoming sloppy and you cum hard, screaming out both their names as ounce after ounce of hot white cum pumps into your clenching body when they too cry out at their release. The sensations hitting you so fast and hard that you fear you may pass out as your entire body locks up.

You're pressed into Hizashi’s heaving chest as the blonde rubs his hands over your back in soothing motions, kissing you wherever he could and whispering in your ear about how amazing that was, how well you did taking both their cocks, how much he loves you. He’s just so happy to finally have you back in their arms, to know that nothing can ever take you from them again.

Shouta has enough sense to untie your arms, letting them fall uselessly to your sides, before reluctantly removing his limp dick from your warm, wet ass. He smiles and feels an animalistic sense of pride when he curiously spreads your cheeks to watch his seed leak out of your still clenching hole and dribble down to mingle with Hizashi’s. It's a sight he plans to see quite often.

Your senses are starting to come back and you can feel all the shame washing over you as silent tears fall from your eyes. You wish more than anything that you could blame the collar for what you had said, but there was no denying that it was all you. You're the one that couldn't hold out and withstand them, you're the one that caved into them, you're the one that begged them to fuck you like a whore. YOU! And that realization kills something inside of you.

You're quickly losing conscience, too tired and spent to really care when you feel them shift you around so that they can cuddle up on either side of you. But you do hear them -you're not sure which one though- when they speak.

“You should try to get some rest before we continue.” Gentle lips kiss your forehead.

You have to force your heavy eyes to open, “W-What… but we-we just… h-how…” You choke out at the implication of those words. There was no way you could do that again. “P-Please… no more… if I have to g-go through that again… I'll-I’ll die.”

The two of them chuckle in a way that leaves you shivering despite how warm you feel. “You didn't seriously think that was all we had planned for you tonight, did you Darling Girl? No, we have so much more in store for you. The night has only just begun. We have so much lost time to make up for after all.”

Fear clings to you as you drift off into slumber. You have no doubt that they will follow you into your dreams as they tell you all the things that plan on doing to you throughout the night. You know that they have every intention of doing whatever it takes to break you and your only hope is that your mind will still be intact come morning.

Not gonna lie, this chapter was even harder to write than the last one and I’m not too sure if it came out making sense in a cohesive narrative. If you have the time, please let me know what you thought!

Please Enjoy!

As always, thank you again to @jadepillar18 for the inspiration on this story and I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

And a special thanks to @lemursqueaks for putting up with my nonsense! lol

#yandere!erasermic #yander!erasermic x reader #yandere!aizawa #yandere!hizashi #yandere!aizawa x reader #yandere!hizashi x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #aizawa x hizashi #gods au #extreme non con #non-con #yandere bnha #dirty talk #kidnapping #stalking #trigger warning #typical yandere behavior #forced relationship