#and the town is small and isolated. HOWEVER

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

[manifesto-of-a-femcel]

Beautiful Movies All Girls Should Watch

A list of movies that touch on coming of age, romance and complex female emotions.

May (2002): A socially awkward veterinary assistant with a lazy eye and obsession with perfection descends into depravity after developing a crush on a boy with perfect hands.

Audition (1999): A widower takes an offer to screen girls at a special audition, arranged for him by a friend to find him a new wife. The one he fancies is not who she appears to be after all.

Helter Skelter (2012): Top star Lilico undergoes multiple cosmetic surgeries to her entire body. As her surgeries show side effect, Lilico makes the lives of those around her miserable as she tries to deal with her career and her personal problems.

Ginger Snaps (2000): Two death-obsessed sisters, outcasts in their suburban neighborhood, must deal with the tragic consequences when one of them is bitten by a deadly werewolf.

The Craft (1996): A newcomer to a Catholic prep high school falls in with a trio of outcast teenage girls who practice witchcraft, and they all soon conjure up various spells and curses against those who anger them.

Malèna (2000): Amidst the war climate, a teenage boy discovering himself becomes love-stricken by Malèna, a sensual woman living in a small, narrow-minded Italian town.

Perfect Blue (1997): A retired pop singer turned actress’ sense of reality is shaken when she is stalked by an obsessed fan and seemingly a ghost of her past.

Rosemary’s Baby (1968): A young couple trying for a baby moves into an aging, ornate apartment building on Central Park West, where they find themselves surrounded by peculiar neighbors.

The Virgin Suicides (1999): A group of male friends become obsessed with five mysterious sisters who are sheltered by their strict, religious parents in suburban Detroit in the mid 1970s.

Sucker Punch (2011): A young girl institutionalized by her abusive stepfather retreats to an alternative reality as a coping strategy and envisions a plan to help her escape.

Piggy (2022): An overweight teen is bullied by a clique of cool girls poolside while holidaying in her village. The long walk home will change the rest of her life.

The Love Witch (2016): A modern-day witch uses spells and magic to get men to fall in love with her, with deadly consequences.

Pearl (2022): In 1918, a young woman on the brink of madness pursues stardom in a desperate attempt to escape the drudgery, isolation and lovelessness of life on her parents' farm.

Girl, Interrupted (1999): Based on writer Susanna Kaysen's account of her 18-month stay at a mental hospital in the late 1960s.

Black Swan (2010): Nina is a talented but unstable ballerina on the verge of stardom. Pushed to the breaking point by her artistic director and a seductive rival, Nina's grip on reality slips, plunging her into a waking nightmare.

Gone Girl (2014): With his wife's disappearance having become the focus of an intense media circus, a man sees the spotlight turned on him when it's suspected that he may not be innocent.

Jennifer’s Body (2009): A newly-possessed high-school cheerleader turns into a succubus who specializes in killing her male classmates. Can her best friend put an end to the horror?

Bones And All (2022): Coming of age romance about two cannibals

In the Mood for Love (2000): Two neighbors form a strong bond after both suspect extramarital activities of their spouses. However, they agree to keep their bond platonic so as not to commit similar wrongs.

Brokeback Mountain (2005): Ennis and Jack are two shepherds who develop a sexual and emotional relationship. Their relationship becomes complicated when both of them get married to their respective girlfriends.

Call Me By Your Name (2017): In 1980s Italy, romance blossoms between a seventeen-year-old student and the older man hired as his father's research assistant.

Maurice (1986): Two English school chums find themselves falling in love at Cambridge. To regain his place in society, Clive gives up Maurice and marries. While staying with Clive and his wife, Maurice discovers romance in the arms of the gamekeeper Alec.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001): In Mexico, two teenage boys and an attractive older woman embark on a road trip and learn a thing or two about life, friendship, sex, and each other.

Caroline (2009): An adventurous 11-year-old girl finds another world that is a strangely idealized version of her frustrating home, but it has sinister secrets.

Corpse Bride (2005): When a shy groom practices his wedding vows in the inadvertent presence of a deceased young woman, she rises from the grave assuming he has married her.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere priest or religious higher up x witch reader?

Yandere! Priest pt. 2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

In a small, picturesque village nestled amidst towering mountains and lush greenery, there existed a quiet and humble priest. He was revered for his kind heart, unwavering devotion to his faith, and his desire to help others. Yandere! Priest had dedicated his life to serving his community, finding solace in his duties and the tranquility of the church. He could only be described as compassionate and fair with the gentlest heart. He was very well loved by the community around him and highly respected. However, there was a small group of people who hated him and preyed on his downfall. One these people managed to gravely injure him and drag his body far away from civilization to make sure he doesn’t have a chance at living. They wanted a slow and painful death for him.

On the outskirts desolated from the village, was an enchanted forest, that was rumored by the townspeople to be cursed and filled with many horrors. That so-called haunted and enchanted forest held your lovely house which you had been living in for decades. Now the question arises, why exactly were you living in such a dangerous and isolated forest in the first place? Well, an easy explanation to this question was the fact that you were a witch. On that possessed extraordinary magic, to be more specific you were a witch doctor. One who was dedicated to healing and creating new medicinal spells.

Currently, you were outside in that forest collecting herbs when you came across a severely injured person. They had grave injuries all over their body and had a nasty head wound across their skull. Whenever you came across an injured animal you would always heal them immediately in order to ensure their survival. This time it was different because they were human. You had to be extra cautious about using your powers in order to not be exposed as a witch. You start to carefully and swiftly carry them towards your cabin.

By the time that you got home, your patient had already lost a liter of blood. You honestly were not sure if they were even gonna survive the night but you quickly got to work on them. Although it took several hours, you managed to stabilize him with the help of your magic and medical tools. Using a spell to clean up the blood, you decide to retire for the night. The operation was a success but you had to heal him little by little to avoid suspicion. Anyways, he should be up by tomorrow, it’s time to get some well deserved rest.

When morning arrived, Yandere! Priest started to stir from his bed. He was currently in a daze, “Where was he? The last thing he remembered was getting beat up. How did he end up here?” A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal you. “Nice to see you awake. I hope you feel better now.” He looks at you with confusion and you quickly explain the situation and how you found him.

“Ah, I see. I can’t exactly remember who attacked me. Is it alright if I stay here for a while until I get better?” Just like that you earned yourself a new servant. He was extremely respectful towards you but had the tendency to linger extremely close to you while you were out in public looking for supplies. While you worked on your medicine, Yandere! Priest took care of all the household chores and acted like your househusband. He was supposed to be devoted to God and live his life in celibacy but here was little by little falling in love with you. No matter what he did, his mind was filled with just thoughts of you and the need to please your every desire. It wasn’t right but it felt so natural. If God was out there listening and witnessing all the deeds he had done for him in his name, then he wouldn’t mind if he fell in love with you right?

As the days went on, you both were living in complete harmony, that was until one day while shopping in town, someone from Yandere! Priest’s village recognized him. This person ended up being Yandere! Priest’s childhood friend who had a crush on him. She was extremely shocked that he was here and she stalked him all the way back to your house. While there she got jealous, the way that he looked and treated you made her green with envy. All her life she had a crush on him and when she finally had the courage to ask him out, he simply stated that he devoured his life to God. Devoted my ass, what kind of priest looks at a person with such tender love and care? She honestly could not believe this. She loved him so much that if she couldn’t have him, then no one could. Which is why she hired a hitman to kill him and why she was so surprised to see him alive. If only that person she hired wasn’t so incompetent.

After some more days of observation, she discovers a disturbing secret from you. It was the fact that you were a WITCH. She could not believe her eyes as she watched you take out your spell book to make a potion. As she was about to go town to tell everyone about this, she ended up tripping which alerted you that she was there. You quickly realized that she discovered your identity and was about to go tell the townspeople. In a flash you immediately took action and teleported to the other end of the forest and rushed to the town.

There, you immediately screamed, “WITCH, EVERYONE I HAVE DISCOVERED A WITCH.” This immediately caught the attention of everyone around and they all started to ask you questions about their appearance. Yandere! Priest was shopping and heard the sound of your voice. He immediately rushed over to you. After you finish giving the description of the girl, she immediately rushes over to the people and starts accusing you. Which you respond with, “She tells lies! I saw her reading and writing! She must be a witch, burn her at the stake!” Okay, so you knew this was morally wrong but it was either you or her. Thanks to your gaslighting and the brain deadness of the people, everyone took your side. It honestly was not that hard to convince them, they do witch burning of people every week because they had the ability to read.

Right now, you are currently watching a woman burn at the stake while she shouts profanities at you. You honestly could not believe that had worked, well at least your butt was saved. However, the more that Yandere! Priest thought about it, the more it made sense that you might actually be a witch. From your mannerism to your way of life, it was all odd. I mean normal people don’t just live in the middle of some random woods. Wait, no, that couldn’t be, you were something greater. For the remainder of his time he made sure to heavily observe you and anything you did. He kept these thoughts to himself until he fully recovered and was expected to leave your house. That was fine, he was willing to leave but not without you by his side. On this day, he hid your spell book to guarantee that you wouldn’t run away. With that he made his way back to his former village to start making preparations for your arrival.

You were frantically searching for your book. Where was it? You definitely couldn’t have misplaced, right? Just then, you hear a knock on the door and Yandere! Priest steps in. “I’m so grateful to see you again, I could bear being away from you. Even if it had only been two hours.” What? Now you were confused, what was he doing here again and what was he talking about? Seeing the confused look on your face he explains, “I’ve come to take you back with me. You see I am a priest and I now know that I was created in order to worship you.” With that he holds up your spell book. “I know what you are, a divine being greater than God. I’ll spend the rest of my day following your every demand. Come, I have already ordered the other priest to prepare your arrival. Let us worship you. You are the only one that can save us from this wretched world, please indulge us with your presence. We’ll make sure your word is law.”

You had such a look of disbelief written on your face. Holy crap did you just accidentally start up a cult?!?! Fuck.

[obsessive-valentine]

Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!reader (HC’s)

Much darker yandere than I usually write but wanted to give it a go, I kinda like it but I’ll proof read later. Open to feed back and requests like always !

TW murder, reader is kidnapped, mention of physical abuse and ‘punishment’

He lives isolated from people, his modest farm house and barn in a valley surrounded by mountainous land -some open and other directions with trees. Most of the open land is fenced off and divided where his cows and horses roam but hikers still travel through his land on occasion, he doesn’t appreciate people coming to far into his land; and those who do usually don’t make it out.

...Feeds them to his farm dogs

He’s a busy man running a farm without help but enjoys it, he starts his days at the crack of dawn and finishes it with a cigarette on his porch watching the sun go down. He adores his animals and takes care of his land, he appreciates a quiet life, only venturing to the closest town once a month in his old truck to stock up on luxuries.

He inherited his farm from his father pretty young, he hired people to work it while he worked in the nearby town, until his mother died too and he decided to downsize the farm, fire the people running it and move out there for a quite life away from people and a dead end job. He had no family left near by and didn’t get along with people, the farm was all that he needed.

Until you came along of course, maybe you were a hiker who interested him or you were lost and he pitied you, maybe he killed the group you were travelling with but last second couldn’t kill you. However you found yourself on his farm, you weren’t going to leave, especially after he strips you of all your items- you’d never make it to the closest town on foot if you manage to get off his land without him dragging you back by the hair.

The only contact with the outside is his small flip phone he uses for work reasons, he keeps it locked away in his study with most of his guns etc. He does own a old TV and a few radios, would get you a old game console if that what your interested in but other than that he’s pretty tech free.

There are a two old landlines in the house but they have been cut off for a long time- he just has yet to take them off the wall and pull the wiring out, if he ever sees you trying it however, safe to say you’ll be sleeping in the shed outside. He doesn’t bother locking the windows or doors aside from his study, you won’t get far.

The shed is used as a punishment, it’s a very small worn and empty wooden shed with 2 big locks on the door. There’s no tin for the roof just wood planks that leak during bad weather and the wooden walls have no insulation and small gaps that allow for some beams of light but also allows the wind to whistle through. The only thing that saves you from hypothermia is the thick layer of hay on the floor and few old stale blankets usually crawling with beetles and spiders.

He marches you across the yard, not far behind the noisy barn of animals he pushes you into the shed, muttering as he slams the door hard that it shakes the whole shed and noisily locks it “you did this to yourself sweetheart” he shouts back to the shed as he walks back to the house, leaving you in the cold damp dark and only gets worse as the night rolls on.

At some point during the late hours he comes back to the shed and unlocks it, you can hardly see him in the dark, his silhouette outlined by the stars “you comin’ back to the house and behave or you gonna stay all night?” It’s up to you if he leaves you locked in the shed till morning or takes you inside and warms you up by the fire.

Loves you very much despite being so strict and occasionally physically abusive, he tries to not be so emotionally constipated when you behave. Likes to take you out with him to tend the animals, it’s where he and you are most relaxed and domestic moments come easier.

[writers-potion]

Dark Fantasy Prompts ☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

1. The grave keeper: Write your story from the perspective of a cemetery caretaker. This caretaker newly moved to a small town with little to no money and needed a job immediately. The only available one happened to be taking care of the cemeteries. During a shift, your protagonist witnesses supernatural events.  

2. The empty tombs: Write about a group of young people who decide to have a party in a cemetery and discover that all tombs are dug out and empty.

3. A sorcerer’s curse: Write about a sorcerer who was cursed. Although they have the ability to do magic, they are unable to lift the curse themselves. Hence, they embark on a journey to find another sorcerer/sorceress who can lift the curse for them.

4. The monsters that come at night: Write about a little kid who has nightmares & sleep problems such as sleep paralysis. This kid starts having difficulty differentiating dreams from reality but is convinced that the monsters they see in their nightmares are real.  

5. A haunted sailor: Write about a sailor that is haunted by the ghosts of his past crew who mysteriously disappeared.

6. A siren’s call: What if sirens were real and had the ability to make captains crash/sink their boats and their crew? Write from the perspective of a young sailor who survives a crash and interacts with the sirens.

7. The little boy called who called wolf: Write about an isolated village that gets attacked by wolves. Those who are attacked and do not die become werewolves and soon there is an epidemic of werewolves.

8. If she says so: Write about a woman who has the ability to make people do anything she wants them to. Everyone around her is aware of her powers and hence feel the need to walk on eggshells around her.

9. Come and serve the devil: Write about a girl who moves to a small town. After she has settled in and starts looking for a job, she is hired as a waitress in the town’s most popular bar. However, the owner of the bar, unbeknownst to her, is the devil himself.  

10. Let’s trade hearts: Write about a person purposefully casting a spell on someone else in the hopes of switching bodies with them.

11. Be careful what you wish for: Write about a person who gets into an argument/fight and says something they regret. The next day that person finds out that their “wish” came true.

12. The mark of the cursed: There is a curse spreading around town and no one knows why it is happening. The pattern goes as follows: One day, a mark of a specific shape appears on a person’s skin indicating that they are now cursed. Your characters have to figure out a way to break the curse (as well as why this is happening to them) before it comes true. If they don’t figure this out in time, the curse will become irreversible.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[radiance1]

A Dp x Dc idea that isn't Danny-centric!? Say it ain't so!

So I think that this'll be a relatively short one but anywho.

Pariah Dark forcing the entirety of Amity Park into the ghost zone did not come without consequences, even with the ghost shield the Fenton's put over the town.

Said consequences come in the form of the entire basically becoming a ghost portal in and of itself. It mostly happened slowly over time, with the town experiencing quakes that spread quakes that lead to the Ghost Zone.

Everyone had to evacuate when it got really bad, well, mostly everyone. You see, Sam didn't want to leave Amity Park at all so he tried to find ways to convince her parents to let her stay even if said city was basically crumbling.

Then she had an idea.

What if she became one of Undergrowths allogenes? (taken from genshin impact)

So she persuaded (read: bullied) Danny into taking her to him so they could make a deal and let her stay in Amity. Undergrowth was surprisingly accommodating to the both of them, what with Danny becoming the new Ghost Prince and Sam already leaving a good impression on him.

He gave her a task, take this seed and place it within the middle of Amity Park and watch over it until it fully grows, then, and only then, will he accept her as one of his allogenes.

So Sam very obviously took said seed, said yes, and went to plant it.

The center of Amity Park was basically a giant ghost portal, it was small, at first. But with each and every quake it expanded and expanded until it couldn't be ignored anymore, so after Danny and Sam got back and went to it, Sam just dropped the seed in the middle of it and watched it sink.

Luckily Overgrowth gave her a proper method she should follow to ensure its growth, at the very least.

It took 4 years for the seed to grow, 4 years of relative isolation for Sam. Danny was usually busy with High Prince duties, what with being summoned and the likes, while Tucker was busy with taking over the outside world.

They still made time for her however.

When it grew Undergrowth gave her praise, not many would willingly keep themselves in isolation to grow an interdimensional seed from the other world. Such, he made do on his promise and gave Sam a portion of his powers, turning her into one of his allogenes.

He did however tell her that she was only Allogene he's ever had in multiple eons. Some of them chose to reenter the reincarnation cycle, while others sacrificed themselves for the greater good and such, some of them among the living are still alive, however, so they should be at least, vaguely aware of her existence.

Sam trained her new powers, familiarizing herself with them until it was as easy as breathing, which took a few months of non-stop training. Thankfully her new stamina is leaps beyond that of her previous human self. Eventually, she was even able to create a few lotus' that acted mostly as transport around the giant ghost portal.

Oh yea, did I mention that the Ghost Portal expanded enough to take over all of Amity Park? Well, a few buildings here and there stilled survived, mostly like small islands but still.

So Sam was living a pretty fine life, all things considered. Her days were very peaceful, tending to a few plants here and there, taking care of the giant tree that sprouted from the seed she grew, training her powers and talking to Danny and Tucker whenever they dropped by.

It was repetitive, but a nice one.

Then her daily cycle was interrupted by people claiming to be the Justice League, and she honestly did not have a clue as to who they are. She didn't really keep up with the news after planting the seed, or the outside world at all for that matter, the only one she regularly kept in contact with was Tucker.

She thought back on, and Tucker did mention them once or twice. Mostly painting them as irritating individuals yet worthy of respect, not that she knew why but she wasn't going to just let them step in here regardless. It's pretty rude to just step into someone's home without permission, no?

[growingstories]

Lumberjack

Dennis had always been the golden boy. In high school, he had been the star football player, admired by his peers and adored by the cheerleaders. He had graduated with honors and married his high school sweetheart, Lisa, shortly after. Life seemed perfect for the young couple. After college, Dennis became a local lawyer, a position that provided him with stability and a comfortable income. However, as the years went by, Dennis found himself gaining weight. The blame fell on Lisa, who was an excellent cook and loved to indulge her husband's every culinary desire.

Despite his growing waistline, Dennis and Lisa's marriage seemed healthy. They enjoyed a passionate sex life, and Lisa had a way of luring him to stay home with her, ensuring that he became more and more dependent on her presence.

The controlling nature that had once seemed harmless started to become problematic for Dennis. Lisa had him wrapped around her finger, making decisions for him and dictating every aspect of his life. Dennis felt suffocated and longed for some freedom.

One fateful day, as Dennis was searching through his belongings, he stumbled upon a letter that Lisa had left behind. It was a divorce petition. Dennis was devastated. Feeling lost and unsure of what to do next, he turned to his best friend, Mike, for support.

Mike suggested they escape the chaos of their small town and retreat to Dennis's family cabin in the remote woods. With no car, electricity, or cellphone service, it would be a true getaway from the world they knew. The journey to the cabin was perilous, involving a two-hour walk through dangerous territory, filled with the constant threat of wolves and bears. Which meant that Dennis would have to stay in and around the cabin and be completely dependent on others. They reached the cabin, and Mike promised to check in with Dennis the next day while leaving him with enough food and supplies to last three days. Left alone in the cabin, Dennis's anger and frustration drove him to chop wood furiously, channeling his emotions into physical labor. The satisfying sound of the axe hitting the logs became his solace. But as the anger subsided, he found himself overcome with grief, and he sought solace in the comfort of food. Unbeknownst to him, Dennis devoured almost the entire stock of food Mike had left. He fell into an exhausted sleep, which lasted almost 14 hours, worn out from the emotional journey he had undergone. When Mike returned the next day, he was shocked to find the food stock empty. But he hadn't given up on his best friend. Mike came prepared again, bringing more food, promising to check on Dennis regularly to ensure his well-being. The visits became frequent as Dennis recovered from the pain of his broken marriage. The local hardware store owner, who had heard about Dennis's situation, also started bringing supplies and treats. Dennis found himself indulging as food became his only comfort.

As the days turned into weeks, Dennis's belly bulged, revealing the consequences of his excessive eating. Mike, worried about his friend's health, brought him bigger shirts to accommodate his growing frame. Determined to keep Dennis entertained, Mike also brought books and other forms of entertainment to combat the crippling boredom. With the arrival of spring, the need for wood diminished, making Dennis lazier by the day. He gained even more weight, his ever-expanding belly becoming his constant companion.

Mike and the hardware store owner continued to support Dennis, visiting less frequently but providing larger quantities of food each time. Every encounter gave Dennis a sense of validation, as he believed his muscles were growing beneath the layers of fat. His self-confidence soared, and he grew content with his life in the secluded cabin. One day, after a few weeks of isolation, Mike returned to the cabin. He was taken aback by the drastic change in Dennis. The once-fit ex-jock had transformed into a massive man, his stomach protruding outwards, making it difficult for him to catch his breath.

Worried for his friend's well-being, Mike felt it was time to intervene. Despite Dennis's happiness with his current lifestyle, Mike knew that enabling his excessive eating habits was not the answer. With a heavy heart, Mike convinced Dennis to come back to reality and resume his life in the town. Reluctantly, Dennis agreed and found himself in the office of a local law firm once again. He had no plans to lose weight or change his lifestyle; he had embraced his new body and was content with who he had become.

Despite his physical transformation, Dennis found happiness in his newfound acceptance of himself. He continued to work at the law firm and forged new friendships in town. People admired his confidence and zest for life, appreciating him for who he was rather than his physical appearance. Dennis lived his life unapologetically, relishing in the joy of good food and reveling in every moment. He had come a long way from the ex-jock who had been lured into a controlling marriage and found solace in food. Dennis had found his own version of happiness, one that allowed him to appreciate the fullness of life, both figuratively and literally.

[simpingforstardew]

misty [chapter one]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter one.

warnings: pure fluff and romance; eventual smut, but that'll be tagged when the time comes !! please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 2.2k

| next chapter >>

Harvey gently lets the needle of his record player caress the notches of the vinyl; after a skip, his apartment is filled with the soft melody of Ella Fitzgerald— he hums, content.

The apartment itself is unremarkable, a guest would consider it lived-in, cozy perhaps, but as the doctor looks around his living room all he can see is mess. Abandoned laundry draped over his plush red sofa, dishes waiting patiently to be washed after his microwaved dinner, and his newest TAMIYA model plane yearning to be completed.

Although the glow of the early winter sunset through his window paints a picture of comfort, it’s certainly a bachelor’s flat.

He walks to his kitchenette, stretching his tense shoulders, as he discards the dirty dishes into the sink and grabs a wine glass. Placing the glass onto the small dining table, Harvey considers which wine to indulge himself with tonight; after some performative consideration his reaches again for his usual Merlot— he chuckles to himself, realizing that he has always been a predictable creature of habit.

He pulls out the only chair at the table, bringing the glass to his moustached lips before being interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he smirks. Had it been anyone else interrupting his evening, he would have been rather disappointed.

“Elliot, what do I owe the pleasure?” He says, moving from his place in the kitchenette to turn his music down, wine glass comfortably in his grip.

“Harvey! I don’t suppose you’re free tonight?” Elliot sings down the phone, “We haven’t been able to catch-up in quite a while, and I’m finally finished with the first draft of my newest manuscript!”

Elliot has always been a good friend to Harvey since the writer moved to Pelican Town over a year ago— although excentric in his own ways, Harvey has always appreciated having someone else in town to rely on for advice and wine recommendations.

“Congratulations, but I’m afraid I can’t tonight,” The doctor sighs, looking down at his drink, “I’m… rather busy this evening.”

“Lying will get you nowhere, my friend,” Elliot chuckles, “I have it on good authority that the clinic has been empty all day, and besides I still owe you a drink.”

“Yes well,” Harvey racks his brain for an excuse, pacing around his small living area, “The clinic being empty is a blessing, but the medical files won’t update themselves.”

“Very well,” Elliot sighs, melodrama has always been the writer’s strength, “Perhaps another time then.”

Harvey drops his phone unceremoniously, guilt infesting his mind. He could very well have finished his wine, grabbed his favourite green coat from the hook on the front door and travelled down to the saloon. Despite himself, however, he finds himself returning to the dining room table to pour the last of the Merlot into his glass.

Despite knowing every citizen of Pelican town after years of check-ups and festivals, he’s found himself drawn to isolation. Not that he didn’t adore the village and all of it’s quirks, he had just grown despondent over the recent weeks: stressed from his medical work, bored of his own repetitive routine, and— if Harvey is being honest with himself— hopeless. Winter tends to shine a spotlight on your own loneliness, particularly after an unremarkable birthday spent working.

After finishing the last of his wine, Harvey places the glass into the ever-filling sink and combs a hand through his brunette hair. The grandfather clock in the corner ticks away the minutes, echoing through the silent apartment. He sighs, the weight of the day finally settling in as he loosens his tie and prepares for bed. The soft glow of his bedside lamp casts a warm hue on the room, a lone figure moving through the routine of solitude. Perhaps the new year will be better. Perhaps, at the very least, it will provide Harvey with the change he so desperately needs. He thought about praying for such a change, but Harvey has never been a religious man; instead, he begins to dream.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the half-open blinds, painting streaks of gold across the bedroom floor. Harvey stretches, the stiffness in his shoulders a testament to a night’s restless sleep. The clock on the bedside table blinks 7:30AM. Harvey walks down the rickety stairs to the clinic, the call of songbirds outside travelling through the open windows— a melody that almost makes the dispassionate off-white of the practices’ hallway feel a little more pleasant.

“Good morning Maru,” Harvey waves, spotting the coily pink hair of the nurse behind the front desk. He adjusts his tie as he slips into his doctors coat, “You’re here early, what’s the occasion?”

Maru chuckles as she relaxes into the uncomfortable blue office chair, “What? I can’t come in bright and early to start the year right with some administrative work?”

Harvey scoffs, a smirk tugging on his lips, “Frankly, I would have thought people your age are preoccupied nursing hangovers on the first day of the new year— although your help is always appreciated.”

“Well frankly,” Maru imitates the older man, “I can’t believe you take me for such a party animal, Doctor Greenwood. How about I run out and get us some coffee, hm?”

“Have I ever told you how wonderful you are, Maru?”

“Not nearly enough,” Maru giggles, standing up from behind the reception desk to leave before stopping with a gasp “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you— we received an application for someone new to register with our clinic, their paperwork is on your desk.”

The bell on the clinic’s front door chimes as Maru exits, leaving Harvey baffled at the implication of a new patient. With the exception of Elliot last year, nobody has moved into the valley in a very long time. Perhaps with more excitement than is needed, Harvey dashes to his office; sure enough, a single document lays on his desk.

APPLICATION FOR REGISTRY, PELICAN TOWN CLINIC (GENERAL PRACTICE) (Y/N) (L/N) | +19201 184523 Hilltop Farm, Pelican Town...

Harvey adjusts his glasses as he reads the application in awe, why hadn’t he known someone was moving to Pelican Town— let alone into the abandoned farm on the outskirts of the valley? Perhaps he would have known if he had gone to the saloon last night with Elliot: the writer is typically much more aware of the town’s news and gossip than he is.

As he moves into the waiting area of the clinic, Harvey finds his eyes glued to the application in his hands— as if he is attempting to memorise every letter formed from the delicate handwriting on the form. The familiar bell of the front door chimes, failing to distract the doctor from his reading.

“Maru, that was extraordinarily fast— you didn’t get decaf again did you? That prank just isn’t as funny as you insist it is.” His large hand reaches up to adjust his glasses as they slide down the length of his freckled nose.

“Oh, not a fan of decaf,” An unfamiliar voice replies, “I’ll try to remember that.”

Harvey looks up from the paperwork, a faint blush washing over his cheeks as he coughs, “I- I’m terribly sorry I-,” He takes a selfish moments pause, just to look at the stranger in front of him, “I thought you were… somebody else, can I help you?”

“It’s okay, I just came in to make sure my application to register here arrived, I’m (Y/n)” You smile, extending your hand out to him as your eyes sparkling under the clinic’s soft light.

“I know-” Harvey scolds himself for his bluntness; he goes to shake your hand, “I mean, I was just reading through your application! Consider it approved… Forgive me, I had no idea anybody new was moving into town.”

“Well, yeah— it was kind of a last minute decision, I’m taking over my grandfather’s farm just west of here. You must be Doctor Greenwood?” You ask, not wanting to dwell on discussions of your late grandfather.

“Harvey,” He lets his arm fall, already missing the warmth of your smaller hand clasped in his own.

“Excuse me?”

“Please, you can call me Harvey,” The doctor places the now forgotten application on the reception desk behind him, “If you would prefer, of course—”

“—Harvey,” His name sounds heavenly coming from your lips, almost as angelic as your soft laughter, “It was nice to meet you.”

In an instant, you're gone. The bell chimes as you leave, singing it's own goodbye.

Harvey is dazed, his hands clenching together as his blush grows darker, “It was lovely to meet you too,” He says to an empty waiting room.

As he turns towards his office, the bell chimes once more; quickly followed by Maru’s animated voice, “Order’s up! One totally-not-decaf coffee for you, and a mint-hot chocolate for yours truly,” Maru giggles.

“T-Thank you, Maru,” Harvey takes the paper cup from his assistant’s hand, “Guess who just left the clinic.”

“Oh no, was it George? I told him that his prescription won’t arrive until next week!” Maru perches on the reception desk, sipping from her hot chocolate, “Do you want me to reschedule his appointment to this afternoon?”

The doctor chuckles, finally tearing his eyes from the front door of the clinic, “No, there’s no need for that— thank you though, Maru.”

The pair drink their beverages in a comfortable silence; Harvey quickly realising that one decaffeinated coffee wouldn’t be enough to satiate him.

“Right, well… I’m going for another one.” Harvey slips out of his doctors coat and into his dark-green cardigan, “Will you be okay here alone for five minutes?”

“You can trust me, Doc,” Maru offers a confident thumbs-up, “I’ll just call if there’s an emergency!”

After a nod to Maru, Harvey is quickly out the door. He basks in the spring warmth before walking down to The Stardrop Saloon— an unnecessary journey considering his coffee machine lay unused in his apartment, but Gus’ coffee is just so much better! At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself. In truth, Harvey just needs an excuse to leave the clinic; a trip upstairs to his apartment will only leave him feeling more claustrophobic.

“Wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are better fate than wisdom” Elliot sings, falling in pace with the doctor as the clinic door slams shut.

“Whatever are you talking about now?” Harvey turns his head to Elliot, slowing his brisk pace to enjoy the short walk with the writer.

“E.E. Cummings, Harvey! You haven’t read his work?” Elliot tuts, patting Harvey on the back as they walk together, “Shame on you.”

“Ah, of course,” Harvey playfully scoffs, sending a smirk to the shorter man, “Consider me utterly embarrassed.”

The pair are greeted by the music from the jukebox as they walk into the Saloon, both waving to Gus.

“Well I can tell how embarrassed you are by the blush on your cheeks,” The writer leans against the bar, eyebrows raised, “Or, has a certain new farmer caught the doctor’s attention?”

“I haven’t a clue what your talking about.” Harvey knew better than to feed into Elliot's delusional romanticism, he simply rakes a hand through his already swept back hair.

“You know you’ve always been a horrid liar, my friend.” Elliot smiles, “They’re quite lovely, aren’t they?”

“Who?” Harvey continues to feign ignorance while ordering a coffee from Gus.

“(Y/n), we met earlier this morning.” Elliot replies, “You would know that they’ve been the topic of conversation in town for a while now… If you came out of that small apartment once in a while.”

“You’re right, you know,” Harvey slouches, ignoring his own advice to his patients about the importance of posture, “I do regret not coming out last night, for what it’s worth.”

“I’m always right,” Elliot gleams, “My question is, was I right about you needing to come out more, or right about (Y/n) catching your eye?”

Harvey takes the coffee from Gus, placing 300g on the bar, “You know you’ve always talked too much, Elliot.”

The writer laughs as he watches Harvey leave the Saloon, “And you love me for it, good friend!”

On the short walk back to the clinic, Harvey finds himself thinking about you as he sips on his coffee. It wasn’t hard to make an impression as a new person in a small town, but never before had Harvey been struck by a stranger’s beauty so quickly, their interaction was short, yet the doctor’s heart raced as he remembered the way the farmer looked up at him.

The bell rings as he enters the clinic, Harvey realises this is probably the most the bell has chimed in a single day.

“Hey, Doc,” Maru greets, continuing her work on the computer in front of her, “Don’t forget that Evelyn has an appointment tomorrow at 10:30.”

“Thank you, Maru.” Harvey sips his drink, walking through the waiting room into his office, “Oh, and make sure it’s on file that (Y/n) (L/n)‘s application to register here is approved.”

Perhaps it’s selfish that a doctor would want to see his patient so soon— he certainly wouldn’t wish for emergency visit, his heart hurts at the thought of (Y/n) being injured— but as Harvey sits down in his office chair and begins to file his paperwork he can’t help but want to see that new farmer again.

[yandereunsolved]

˗ˏˋ Yandere Concept ´ˎ˗

Yandere Podcaster — Amos Emerie (he/him)

English / • 27 • / Bisexual / Multilingual

Height: 5'9" He wears boots that make him 5'11" because he's insecure about his height.

Language(s): English, Polish, & Sign Language

╰┈➤ He comes from the sleepy town of Holy Springs. A town filled with yanderes, most supernatural, all downright disturbing. He's one of the few humans that have made their way into this town. It's so small enchanted that it isn't on any maps. Less than a hundred living beings make their home here. The population rests around a thousand. 

╰┈➤ Holy Springs — It's a safe haven for outcasts and entities that would be shunned by any major religion. It is also one of the most dangerous places to live for humans.

╰┈➤ He's the seer of the town. He foretells any new arrivals or conflicts that are to happen. He's the first to learn of readers arrival to their cozy town. He's the first to fall for them and see all of the attention they'll attract. However, that's a vision for another day.

╰┈➤ He runs a podcast called Yandere Unsolved. It's labeled as a true crime podcast and is one of the most listened to in the country. What most listeners don't know is that the podcast was really just a way for yanderes to place bets on who would kill who for their darling. At the end of each episode, he lists off the people who contribute to his podcast—the codenames of who won and lost what bets. What a coincidence that reader really enjoys his podcast. You'll both have so much to talk about when you arrive.

╰┈➤ He lives in a two-bedroom apartment with his roommate, who's a ghoul. Often times, he has to temporarily leave because he cannot stand the sound of his roommate chewing on another human carcass. Amos doesn't understand why he can't be more tidy about his kills. He just wants one night of full sleep without hearing the tortured screams of his roommates victims. His roommate is a bit of a glutton, in more ways than one.

╰┈➤ One sibling — He has a deaf older brother who doesn't live in Holy Springs. His older brother lives in France with his husband and two kids. That's how Amos learned sign language when he was younger. It comes in handy considering some of the residents here don't speak any identifiable language or just cannot speak for whatever reason. So he's able to communicate with them this way.

╰┈➤ Parents — His mother and father still live in the rural town they grew up in. Both he and his brother visit them in the summer and on holidays. Amos speaks little about Holy Springs and keeps it vague. He doesn't want to accidentally attract a spirit from the town to haunt his family by uttering the name. He also never allows them to visit him. He says it's because his apartment is too small for all of them, and there aren't any hotels in Holy Springs. There is one, but it's run by a notoriously mischievous demon who knows how to make people give up their souls. The last thing he needs is someone in his family making a deal with that devil.

╰┈➤ Friends — One of his closest friends hails from Poland. They were a foreign exchange student whom his family hosted. He's kept in good touch with them over the years and has picked up much of the language. He doesn't speak it unless he's in Poland visiting them, so his fluency in it is a bit rusty. He's mostly introverted, especially with how the town isolates you, so they're really his only friend. Except for you, you're basically already his spouse, so you can't really count as his friend.

╰┈➤ He has absolutely awful self-esteem. He's the seer of the town, and he runs a podcast that is really just radio gambling for yanderes, and yet he still feels like a perverted loser. He can speak confidently, but he doesn't feel like it. He still feels like the same kid who ended up getting a restraining order from his crush in high school. So what if he had been stealing pairs of their underwear and taking photos of them without their consent? He saw it in the future. He thought he was meant to be with them. It turns out that they just looked like you. It was really you who he saw in those visions. Unfortunately, the future has a way of changing your destination right before you reach it. No worries! He'll just make sure that you are his, no matter what.

╰┈➤ Infatuation — He's a very subtle yandere until he has his darling trapped. He sees himself as a protector and a safe heaven for you, both from the world and the horrors within the seemingly normal town. Due to the fact that he saw you in his visions, he believes it to be a divine intervention that you both met. He's extremely needy and stakerish. He's ashamed of his perversions and does everything he can to make sure you don't find out about them. He isn't broke, but he isn't rich either. He wins some and loses some when he gambles with other yanderes. He's truly worried about others becoming obsessively inclined toward you. He doesn't have the ability to kill a person; at least he doesn't think so. He wouldn't kill someone unless you asked him to. He's too afraid you'd hate him for it.

full headcanons soon?

[bossbtch1]

Cat and Mouse part 2 (end)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary : Having left Bucky and the past behind, you managed to sold the artifact and anonymously return the stolen case. Seeking solace, you settled in a quaint cottage. However, your peaceful life is disrupted when a familiar face from your past, appeared on your doorstep. Run, hide, repeat. But will you outrun your hunter?

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x f!reader as Black Cat

TW : Smut, NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Tags : Fluff, Chase, Hunter & Prey, Stalking, Suspense, Banter, Flirting, Playful!Bucky, Flirty!Bucky, Sexual Tension, Dirty Talk, Begging, Fingering, Oral f receiving, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Creampie

Words : 11,1k

A/N : The part y'all have been waiting for. Enjoy!

My Masterlist

After that day, you needed to get out of the city, Bucky would be pissed about you getting away again. But you also wanted to keep yourself busy, and you had the perfect distraction. You sold the artifact for a fortune and lived a comfortable and safe life, what the buyer wanted with the artifact was none of your business. You also returned the vibranium you stole to the Avengers, anonymously of course.

You found the place by chance, a small cottage in the countryside. It was exactly what you needed, peace and quiet. You didn't need to worry about being followed, no one knew where you were.

You settled into a routine, the days passing quickly. You spent your time painting, the sun shining through the windows. It was the perfect place to hide, and you were going to enjoy it. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. You kept yourself busy, enjoying the peace and quiet. But you couldn't help but miss the excitement of the city, and the thrill of the chase.

One day, as you were reading a book, you heard a noise coming from outside. You went to investigate, and there was no one there. You were sure that someone was there, though, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

You didn't know if it was an animal or a human, but you knew that something was out there. You grabbed your gun, the metal cool against your palm. You stepped outside, the night air crisp and cool.

The silence was broken by a twig snapping, and you whirled around, your gun pointed at the darkness. You saw a shadow move, and you fired a warning shot. "Who's there?," you called out, your voice echoing through the trees.

There was no answer, only silence.

You walked further into the woods, the leaves crunching beneath your feet. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the blood rushing through your veins.

Suddenly, you felt something brush against your leg. You looked down, and a pair of glowing eyes stared back at you. The cat meowed and ran off into the shadows, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You were sure that someone had been watching you, but now, it seemed like you were just being paranoid. You made your way back to the cottage, the gun still clutched in your hand.

You decided to spend the rest of the night inside, with the doors and windows locked. You sat in front of the fireplace, the flames casting eerie shadows across the room. You didn't sleep that night, the feeling of being watched lingering.

You were going to have to be more careful, the feeling of being watched was a new one. Maybe it was the isolation getting to you, maybe it was the paranoia. Either way, you had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

In the morning, you packed a bag, your gun tucked away. You weren't sure what was going on, but you weren't about to take any chances. As you finished packing, you hurried outside, hoping to make it to the town before dark.

Then as you opened your door, you saw Bucky. His hair was longer, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans, but you would recognize him anywhere. He was leaning against the hood of your door, his arms crossed over his chest. It was like he had been waiting for you.

"Hello, Y/N," he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to stay calm, your mind racing. You couldn't believe that he had found you, and you were suddenly aware of how close he was. You didn't move, your hand tightening around the doorknob.

He eyes your bags, he smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Going somewhere?"

You were so shocked to see him, that you couldn't find the words to speak. He looked even more handsome than you remembered, his hair slicked back, and a few days' stubble on his chin.

You smiled trying to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest. "Bucky. What a coincidence, I was about to go visit you. You know, for our reunion." you lied, not wanting him to know how truly scared you were.

Bucky gave you a knowing look. "Sure you were."

Your face fell as he pushed past you, entering your house. You followed him, closing the door behind you. "Bucky, what are you doing here?"

He ignored you, his gaze roaming over the cottage. You watched as his eyes took in every detail, and you hoped he wouldn't notice the small bag by the door.

"You know, this is a really nice place," he said, his fingers brushing over a wooden table. "You did a good job picking it."

"I've worked hard on it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. "It shows."

You shifted nervously, not sure what to say. He walked closer to you, his body inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, and you struggled to control your breathing.

"I've missed you, Y/N," he said, his voice husky. "After that little stunt you pulled, I gotta say I'm impressed."

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. You could feel your heart beating fast, and you wanted nothing more than to run. But you knew that he wouldn't let you, and the thought made your stomach turn, in a good and bad way but more good than bad somehow.

You shrugged, "What can I say? I had the element of surprise."

He nodded, his gaze falling on you. "Oh you do. But I know that's not all there was to it."

You felt his hands on your waist, and you shivered. Your eyes met his, and you saw the desire there, the raw need. You pried his hands from you as you pulled away from him and asked "How did you find me?"

He shrugged, "It wasn't easy. You really know how to hide your tracks, but I've always been good at finding people. You're not the only one who's good at being a ghost."

You didn't respond, your mind racing. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew he was waiting for an answer. You didn't know what to say, so you decided to play along.

"So what do you want, Bucky? Why are you here?"

"I said I missed you, doll." He sat on the sofa, patting the seat beside him. "Now, why don't you sit down, and we can talk about it."

You didn't follow his command, instead choosing to stand a safe distance away from him. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?," you said, a slight edge to your voice.

He leaned back, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "Like I said, I missed you. I was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”

Rolling your eyes, patience wearing thin, you retorted, "Stop lying, Bucky. I highly doubt you trekked all the way here just for a casual chat," you challenged, crossing your arms.

He stood up, his hands in his pockets. "Alright, you got me. I want to play a game with you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "A game? You came all the way out here just to play a game? Really, Bucky?"

"Weren't you the one who said life is just a game and we're all players in it?," he said, walking toward you.

You were taken aback, surprised that he remembered. "I did," you said, taking a step back.

"So, are you ready to play?"

You took another step back, your heart racing. "What kind of game?"

He stepped closer, his body inches from yours. "It's the game you love playing the most, cat and mouse.”

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "What to do? I’ve put that behind me. As you can see.” You walked toward your new place, “I’m living a simple, safe, and normal life."

Bucky shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "Are you, Y/N? I'm not so sure." he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You could feel his gaze on you, and you shifted uncomfortably. "I am."

Bucky chuckled, “You’re fooling yourself, sweetheart.” He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Beside, I know you love a good chase, and I'm the best there is."

"Bucky, I'm done running," you said, the truth of your words hitting you hard.

Bucky shook his head, his lips curved in a mischievous grin. "But we haven't even started yet, doll. The fun hasn´t begun yet."

You couldn't deny that Bucky was right, you did love the thrill of the chase, and the idea of him chasing you sent a shiver down your spine.  You bit your lip, trying to think of a way out of this. But you knew it was no use, he had trapped you. “How does this so-called game work?”

"It's as straightforward as it gets. I chase, you run. If I catch you, I win. If you manage to stay away from me, congratulations, you win."

"What are the rules?" you asked, already suspecting the answer.

"No rules, sweetheart. Just a good old-fashioned chase. No tricks, no traps, just a straight chase.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his confident demeanor. "And what's the prize for the winner?"

Bucky's smirk deepened. "Ah, that's the fun part. If you win, we go our separate ways, never to cross paths again. Or....." his voice trailed off, his eyes burning with desire.

You were frozen, his words sending shivers down your spine. You knew that you shouldn't have gotten involved with him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was charming, and sexy, and everything you'd ever wanted in a man.

"Or?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Or," he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin, "you get to have your wicked way with me."

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind racing. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. You tried to hide your excitement hearing that, you scoffed, trying to play it cool. "What? Like tie you up and have my way with you?"

Bucky nodded, his lips curved in a smirk. "If that's what you want, doll. Whatever gets you off."

You blushed, not expected such a candid answer. He sure did change, what to say? He was more playful now? You wondered what happened with him.

He smiled, "You can even blindfold me, so I can't see what's coming. That's how confident I am."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "But I promise, whatever you do to me, I'll love it."

"This is stupid, Bucky."

"Maybe, but I know you want to."

You crossed your arms, adopting a defiant stance. "And what makes you so sure?"

Bucky grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The way you look at me, the way you bite your lip when I get close. It's written all over your face, sweetheart."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "You're reading too much into things."

"Am I now?" He stepped back, feigning innocence. "Guess we'll find out during our little game. You can try to run, but you won't be able to escape the truth."

You scoffed, "This whole thing is ridiculous. Why did you even come here?"

Bucky's demeanor shifted, his expression turning sincere. "Because I missed you, Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, I missed the chase too."

Your eyebrows shot up, skeptical. "You missed the chase?"

He nodded. "There's an excitement to it, a thrill that I can't find anywhere else. Plus, chasing you is always interesting."

You could feel your resolve crumbling, your need for him overtaking your sense. You wanted to say yes but there must be a catch, there had to be, and he had already admitted that it was a game.

"What's the catch, Buck? There's got to be a catch."

"No catch, sweetheart."

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. He seemed like the type who would play by his own rules, take what he wanted. Perhaps, this was his strategy – make you believe there were no strings attached, only to surprise you later. "And if you win?" you asked, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "If I win, I get to keep you."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you could feel your cheeks burning. "What do you mean by 'keep me'?"

He gave you a wolfish grin. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not even half of it."

You were stunned by his response, your mind racing. You knew that if he caught you, you'd never be able to escape him, and a part of you was excited by the idea. But the rational side of you knew it was a bad idea, and you had worked too hard to let it all go to waste.

You stepped closer to him, your body inches from his. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you could smell his intoxicating scent. "That's a bit unfair, the win and the loss," you replied, a slight smile on your face.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you worried I'll catch you?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, his confidence was admirable. "No, I'm just saying it's not a fair reward.”

"Maybe. But what's life without a little risk?" He smiled, "Besides, I know you love a challenge."

You bit your lip, thinking. The thought of spending time with Bucky was exciting, and the idea of him chasing you was equally thrilling.

But was the risk worth it?

You knew that if you lost, you'd be stuck with him. And the thought of being at his mercy made your heart race.

You had to admit, the possibility of losing, was also a turn on. The thought of him catching you and taking his reward, sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, "Fine. I'll play."

He smiled, "I'm glad, I wouldn't want you to lose confidence in your abilities."

"Confidence isn't an issue, I know how good I am," you retorted, a smirk on your lips.

"Well, let's put that to the test, shall we?", he said, glancing at his watch.

You knew that there was no point in arguing with him, and you were secretly excited by the challenge. "What if I choose the first option? That we’re going to separate our own way?”

"If that's what you want, sweetheart." He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I know that's not the case."

"Oh, really? How would you know?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you want it just as bad as I do. You're just afraid of losing control."

His words struck a nerve, and you couldn't deny the truth in them. Fear of losing control had always been your Achilles' heel. Swallowing your pride, you retorted, "Don't flatter yourself."

Bucky stepped closer, the air charged with anticipation. "I've seen the fire in your eyes, doll. You thrive on the chaos, the unpredictability. Deep down, you want to lose control and let go."

Your facade wavered, a momentary vulnerability breaking through. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

Bucky's gaze held an intensity that made your heart race. "Challenge accepted, sweetheart. Let the game begin."

You squared your shoulders, accepting the challenge laid out by him. "Fine. Let's see what you've got."

"Good. Now, I'll give you a ten-minute head start. Use it wisely," Bucky offered.

You were surprised that he was willing to give you a head start, and you wondered if it was a trick. But you knew that it didn't matter, either way, the result would be the same. You had no doubt that he would catch you.

"Ready," he asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Can't wait to claim my prize."

Your laughter echoed through the room. "Sure, but you should know, I don't lose."

His grin was equal parts confident and mischievous. "Neither do I, sweetheart. Neither do I."

"Now, get going, sweetheart. And try to make this fun for me, won't you?"

"Only if you do the same for me," you teased, before running out the door, the thrill of the chase sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh I will, sweetheart. Don't you worry about that." As he watched you ran off into the woods, he was already planning on how to claim his prize. As much as the chase excited him, Bucky wasn't going to rush things. He was going to savor every moment of this savor every moment of this game.

You didn't have much of a head start, but you were determined to make the most of it. You knew that Bucky was a formidable opponent, and that you had to use your wits to evade him. You also knew that he was tracking you, which made it even more challenging. You quickly made your way through the woods, staying low and quiet. You knew the woods in the back of your head, and you used that knowledge to your advantage.

You ducked behind a large tree, your breathing heavy. You knew that he would catch up soon, and you needed a plan. You knew that if he caught you, you would be his, and that thought made your stomach flutter. You had 10 minutes head start and you were going to make the most of it.

The wind rustled the leaves, and the sky was darkening. You knew you had to move fast if you wanted to stay ahead. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind you. You turned around, but there was no one there. But you knew he was close, and that sent a thrill down your spine.

You hurried through the woods, careful not to make any noise. You could feel his presence, and you knew that he was closing in on you. You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but you didn't care. You were enjoying the game, and you were determined to win. You then heard his voice not far from you.

His taunting voice echoed nearby, "You can run, but you can't hide," accompanied by the teasing refrain, "Come out, come out wherever you are." The continuous taunts grated on your nerves, bordering on annoyance.

You continued to evade him, keeping out of sight. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It had been a while since you'd felt this alive, and you were relishing the feeling.

It had only been 20 minutes, and you were already feeling the exhaustion, but you didn't let that stop you. You kept moving, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. But you knew that it was only a matter of time before he caught up to you, and the thought both excited and scared you.

The sky was growing darker, and the wind was picking up. You could feel the rain threatening to fall, and you knew that the conditions would make it easier for you to hide, the sound and smell of the rain would help conceal your location. You took a deep breath and kept moving. You were determined to win, and nothing was going to stop you. But it would be easier for him to track your tracks since footprints harder to disguise.

The air was cold, and the sky was dark, but you could feel his presence getting closer. You could feel his hunger, and you knew that he wouldn't stop until he caught you. Suddenly you felt a hand covering your mouth, and you turned around to see his piercing blue eyes. You were frozen in place, and your heart was pounding.

"You're losing your touch, Y/N." he said, a grin on his face. "Don't tell me the infamous black cat is getting sloppy," he teased, his hands moving down to your hips.

You felt a mixture of fear and excitement as his hands moved across your body. You were afraid of what would happen next, but you couldn't deny that you wanted him.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?," he asked, his voice a low whisper.

Growing increasingly annoyed, you swatted his hands away. "So what now? You caught me, just get it over with already."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We still have 30 minutes left. I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you off the hook this time. Consider it a free pass. But if I catch you again, I won't be so nice."

You were surprised by his offer, and you didn't know what to do. Part of you wanted him to catch you, but the other part was afraid.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get going."

With a nod, you turned around, ready to put some distance between you. But, just as you began to walk away, he seized your arm. "Oh, and Y/N? Run faster and hide better," his voice dropped to a low growl.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and just before releasing your arm, you felt his warm breath against your neck. As he vanished into the woods, you found yourself rooted in place, unsure of how to proceed.

You knew that he was testing you, seeing how far you would go. You knew that he was pushing your boundaries, and a part of you liked it. A part of you wanted to give in and surrender to him, but another part of you was afraid.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn't let him get the best of you, and you couldn't let him win. Did you really losing your touch? You used to be great at this, even spiderman couldn't find you when he tried. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you had lost your edge. But that didn't mean you were going to let him win.

You took a deep breath and started running. You were determined to beat him, and nothing was going to stop you. As you ran through the woods, you could feel him getting closer. You didn't know how, but he always managed to find you. You had tried everything, and nothing was working.

You had tried to mask your tracks, you had used all your skills, and nothing was working. You were beginning to think that maybe you had met your match, and that maybe he was just better than you.

You ducked behind a tree, trying to catch your breath. The rain had started to fall, and the air was getting colder. You could feel the exhaustion setting in, but you couldn't give up. You looked at your watch, you had 10 minutes left before the game was over, and you knew that if he caught you again, he wouldn't be so nice.

"Come on, Y/N. You're better than this," you said, trying to motivate yourself.

But deep down, you knew that you had reached the end of your rope. You were exhausted, and you were running out of time. You stayed hidden and prayed that he wouldn't find you after all you had 3 minutes left and then you would win.

1 minute left.

You could feel the rain soaking through your clothes, and you could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you were beginning to think that maybe losing wouldn't be so bad. But winning would still feel better, and so you held onto hope.

30 seconds left.

You could hear the wind howling through the trees, and the rain was coming down harder now. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Gotcha," he whispered, marking the end of the game, a victorious smile playing on his lips.

The realization dawned upon you, you had lost.

"So, what do you say, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "Ready to be mine?"

Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning. You had never felt like this before, and you knew that if you surrendered, there would be no going back.

"You wish." Your voice tried to remaind calm.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't be silly. We both know you want this. You were curious about me and now you will have your answer."

You were starting to feel frustrated. He was right, you had been curious about him and his flirting was something you had been enjoying lately, even if you'd never admit it. But you weren't ready to let him know that yet. "Yeah, right. In your dreams."

"Actually, yeah. In my dreams. But I know that in yours, too. That's why you accepted to play this game with me. Because you knew that, one way or another, you'd get what you want. You're just playing hard to get because you like being the center of attention."

"Wow, Bucky, that was deep." You couldn't hide your amusement. "Are you sure you haven't been practicing this speech with your mirror?"

"No, doll. I just know how you work. So, what do you say? Are you ready to surrender and become mine?"

You looked up at him and saw that his blue eyes were filled with desire. You felt your heart skip a beat as you considered his offer. "And why would I agree with that?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you have a weakness for dangerous men, and we both know that I'm the most dangerous man you've ever met," he replied.

You chuckled, breaking the tension. "You really think you're the most dangerous man I've ever met? That's quite the ego you've got there, Barnes."

He raised an eyebrow, unyielding. "Ego or not, you can't deny there's something magnetic between us. It's like we're two sides of the same coin, Y/N."

You feigned contemplation, tapping your chin. "Two sides of a coin, huh? More like oil and water. We don't exactly mix, Barnes."

Bucky took a step closer, his proximity making your heart race. "Maybe that's what makes it interesting. The clash, the unpredictability. Tell me, doll, have you ever been with someone who keeps you on your toes?"

You paused, considering his words. "Maybe, maybe not. What's your point?"

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint dancing in them. "My point is, surrendering to me might just be the most thrilling thing you've ever done. No more games, no more hiding. Just us."

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. "Nice try, Barnes. But I don't surrender easily."

"You should be," he said, taking a step closer. "Besides, I can give you everything you want. I can show you pleasure you've never known before. I can make you scream my name and beg for more."

His words were sending shivers down your spine and making your core ache with need.

"You're such a cocky bastard," you said, trying to mask your arousal.

"But you love it," he replied. "Admit it. You're attracted to me. You've been thinking about me for a long time. And you can't wait to see what it would be like to be mine."

You knew he was right, but you couldn't let him win. You couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under your skin.

"You're just talking big because you know I'll never give in," you said, trying to regain the upper hand. "You're nothing but a tease."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's where you're wrong. I'm not a tease. I'm a man of my word. And when I say I'll make you scream my name and beg for more, I mean it."

You were losing the battle, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued his seduction. You were tempted to give in, to let him take control and show you what he was capable of.

The rain intensified, drenching both of you as you stood there, caught in a moment of tension. Bucky's gaze bore into yours, and you could sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. The seductive dance between you two seemed to have no end in sight. He knew you wouldn't answer him right now, he changed the subject, "It's freezing out here, sweetheart. Let's go to a warmer place and continue this conversation, shall we?"

"I'm not cold." You lied.

"Sure you are, doll. Just like I am," he replied. His hand extended toward you, a silent invitation. "Come on, let's go inside and get out of these wet clothes. I'll warm you up, I promise."

You hesitated taking his hand for a moment but you decided to take his offer. You could feel his hot gaze on your body, and the thought of getting naked in front of him made you blush. You had never felt so vulnerable before, and yet so safe.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. "You got me all wet, jerk."

"Not yet, but I'm planning to, sweetheart."

You couldn't help but laugh. "That was cheesy, even for you, Bucky."

"I don't care," he replied. "I have you where I want you. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide."

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the chase or the tension between the two of you, but you were feeling bold. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied,  "I'm a quick learner, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"So, quick learner, what other tricks do you have up those sleeves?" he teased, playfully squeezed your hand.

You shot him a coy smile. "Oh, Bucky, a magician never reveals her secrets."

A gleam in his eyes. "I like a challenge. Besides, you're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you couldn't help but be drawn in. You could feel his fingers close around yours, and a sense of warmth and comfort spread through you.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. Your heart was racing, and your palms were sweaty. You didn't know what would happen once you got back, but you were ready for anything.

When you arrived at your home, he walked in first. You followed, closing the door behind you. He took off his soaked coat and you did the same.

Bucky's playful tone sliced through the silence. "So, where were we? Oh, right. You were just about to tell me that you're mine, sweetheart," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I was just about to tell you that you can take your wet and cold ass and get the fuck out of my house," you shot back, a hint of sarcasm coloring your words.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. "Wow, you're so mean, sweetheart. It's pouring outside, and I'm soaked, and you're still sending me away?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say? I'm a cold and heartless woman."

"You're anything but that, doll," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours. "And you know it."

You could feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. "Yeah, well, you don't know me," you said.

"Maybe not, but I'd like to," he replied.

You swallowed hard, his words sending a thrill through you. You knew that you shouldn't want him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was everything you had ever dreamed of, and he was standing right in front of you.

He glanced toward the fridge, and you arched an eyebrow at his audacity.

"I didn't think I said to make yourself at home," you quipped, folding your arms across your chest.

He smirked, rummaging through the fridge. "Well, considering I won the game, I think it's only fair I do as I please."

"You can't just show up here, make me play a game, and then take over my house. It doesn't work like that," you replied, feeling annoyed.

"I just did" he said, pulling out a bottle of water. "Why don't you go take a shower while I prepare us something to eat?"

"Excuse me?"

"Go, take a shower," he repeated. "You're soaking wet and covered in mud. You'll catch a cold if you don't warm up."

"And what makes you think I want you in my kitchen?," you asked.

"Because I'm the winner, and I can do whatever I want," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was implying. You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't resist. You were soaking wet, and the thought of a hot shower was too tempting to pass up.

"Fine," you sighed. "But if you steal or burn my house down, I'll kick your ass."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and turned to go upstairs, "Just don't touch anything."

"You're so mean, sweetheart," he called after you.

You ignored him, making your way up the stairs and to the bathroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, trying to catch your breath.

This was insane. Bucky was in your house, in your kitchen, cooking. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to go back to his house and leave you alone. But instead, he was here, and you couldn't deny that you were happy about it.

As you began to undress, the realization struck that Bucky was also drenched from the rain. A sudden impulse led you to search for some old shirts, sweats, and boxers you rarely wore, and you grabbed them before heading downstairs.

"Here," you said, handing him the clothes, a hint of tension in your voice.

"Well, aren't you the little helper," he teased, taking the clothes from you with a playful smirk.

"They're old, but they should fit," you replied, brushing off his comment with a nonchalant demeanor.

You were about to take off your clothes when you remembered that he was also soaking wet from the rain. You searched for some loose shirt, sweats, and boxers that you rarely wear and brought it downstairs.

"Thank you," he said, giving you a soft smile. "Didn't know you care."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "I don't. They're just collecting dust in my closet. It's not a big deal."

He chuckled, "If you say so, sweetheart."

A glare shot in his direction, accompanied by a stern, "Stop calling me that."

"Why? It's cute," he persisted.

"I'm not cute," you maintained.

"You are," he insisted, grinning. "In fact, I'd even say you're adorable."

"Stop it," you demanded, feeling your cheeks warm.

"But it's true," he continued, stepping closer.

You shook your head, an involuntary smile breaking through. "You're ridiculous."

"Irresistible, you mean," he corrected, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

Your cheeks now flushed, you urged, "Shut up and change before the food burns," you said, turning to walk away, running away from his teasing.

You made your way to your room and heading toward the bathroom. You quickly stripped off your clothes and climbed into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your cold, wet skin, and you couldn't help but moan as the steam filled the room.

As you washed the dirt and grime from the game off your body, you couldn't stop thinking about Bucky. You wondered what he was doing downstairs. Was he really making dinner? What did he have planned? What was he planning next after that? Will he stay? Will he fuck you?

Your thoughts were racing, and you couldn't stop them. You tried to calm yourself down, but the more you thought about him, the more worked up you got. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You needed to focus on something else. You grabbed your loofah and scrubbed your body, washing away the tension and the anxiety.

After a few minutes, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. You wrapped yourself in a towel and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were bright. You were quite annoyed that you couldn't figure him out. He was unpredictable and dangerous, but also charming and sexy. He was a mystery, and you were determined to solve it.

"Stop thinking about him, Y/N," you muttered to yourself. "Just get dressed and go downstairs. You're stronger than this. You can handle him."

With renewed determination, you quickly dried yourself off and put on some clothes. You were still nervous, but you were ready to face him. You left the bathroom and made your way down the stairs, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air.

"You didn't burn down my house, did you?" you called out.

"Not yet," he replied.

You entered the kitchen and saw him stirring something on the stove. "What are you cooking?" you asked, curious.

"Something special," he replied, turning to face you.

"Wow, that smells amazing," you complimented, attempting to divert your attention from the effect he had on you.

"Thank you," he replied, grinning. "Now why don't you take a seat, and I'll bring you a plate."

Obliging, you settled at the kitchen table, your eyes following his movements as he gracefully placed two plates filled with an unfamiliar dish before you.

"What is this?" you inquired, eyeing the plate with intrigue.

"Stew," he replied, taking a seat across from you. "It's a recipe from my mother. I hope you like it."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. He had cooked for you? You thought he would be making sandwich or something simple but this looked like a heartwarming dish. You couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting down at the table.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You haven't tasted it."

"Well, let's see how it is," you replied, picking up your fork.

You took a bite and your eyes widened. It was delicious. You couldn't believe how good it was.

"Wow," you said. "This is amazing.”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. "She would be happy to know someone else likes it."

"Who taught you how to cook?”

"My mother," he replied, a nostalgic expression casting a temporary shadow over his face. "She was the best cook in the village. Everyone loved her food."

"She sounds amazing," you said, feeling a pang of sadness for him.

"She was," he said.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you teased, “So, is this part of the 'claiming my prize' package? A home-cooked meal and everything?”

He chuckled, a rare and hearty sound that echoed through the room. “Of course, expect more of it in the future.”

The two of you ate in silence, the air thick with tension. You didn't know what to say, or how to feel. Part of you was nervous, and part of you was excited. You had never felt like this before, and it was a strange feeling. You also had to be on guard, you never know what could happen when he's around.

After you had both finished eating, you cleared the table and began to wash the dishes. He helped, drying them and putting them away. You couldn't help but notice how easy it was to work together. It was like you had known each other for years, not just a few days.

You were thinking maybe it was time he claimed his prize or at least talked about it. But instead he went to the living room and started a fire.

"You know how to play chess, Y/N?" he asked, taking out a chess set from his backpack.

"I do," you replied, curious. "But why the sudden interest in chess?"

"Well, I thought since you had such an fun day, why don't we add a little excitement to the night?" he suggested.

"It hasn't exactly been a walk in the park, Bucky," you reminded him.

"Sure it was. We played a game, we ran through the rain, and we shared a nice dinner. Sounds like a pretty fun day to me," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile appeared on your face. "You’re impossible," you said.

"And yet, here we are," he said, gesturing to the chess board. "So, what do you say, sweetheart? Up for a game?"

"Fine," you sighed, giving in and joining him.

He nodded and placed the board on the coffee table, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. "I'll let you choose the color," he said.

"Black," you replied, without hesitation.

He grinned and nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Very well," he said.

He sat down across from you, a smirk on his face. He set up the pieces, and the game began. You were surprised by how well he played, he was giving you a run for your money. "You're pretty good," you said, studying the board.

"I am," he replied, not looking up.

"Where did you learn to play?"

"In the army," he replied. "There wasn't much else to do, and the guys liked playing chess."

"You were in the army?"

"I was," he replied. "A Sergeant and World War 2 veteran. Fought alongside with Steve Rogers.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation. "Really? I didn’t know that.”

"Someone clearly didn't do their homework," he smirked, moving his chess piece with a playful confidence.

"I was busy doing other things," you said, smirking in return.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Like thinking of ways to kill you," you retorded.

He chuckled, "You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

"And you're an asshole," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, shrugging with an amused grin.

You spent the next few hours talking and playing, the atmosphere growing more and more intimate as the night went on. You were both competitive, and you didn't want to give in to him.

But eventually, you won the game.

"Damn," he said, grinning. "That was a good game."

You leaned back in your chair, "I told you, Bucky, I don't lose."

He chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're full of surprises, sweetheart. I like that." He nodded, standing up. "Thank you for the game," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

"My pleasure," you replied, standing up as well.

You were standing close to him, your bodies almost touching. The air was electric, and you couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, and his body was toned and muscular.

As the intensity reached its peak, it felt like a kiss was imminent, but he unexpectedly pulled away, breaking the connection. "It’s getting late, I think we should call it a night," he suggested, his voice low and resonant.

Caught off guard, you questioned, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah. We can continue this tomorrow. It's been a long day, and I'm tired,"

You had enough, "Just cut to the chase, Bucky. Stop messing with my head. Either take your prize, or leave."

"Who says I won't?" He asked, his voice low.

"The fact that you've been here all night and haven't done anything is proof enough," you said, getting annoyed. You didn't know why you were being like this, maybe it was because he made you feel things you didn't understand.

He stepped closer, "Are you that eager for me, sweetheart? Do you want me to take you right now?"

You swallowed, feeling nervous, "No. I don't want anything to do with you."

"You sure?" He asked, walking around the couch. "Because you seem very eager. Why are you so eager, Y/N? What do you want me to do to you?"

"I don't want anything," you insisted.

"I don't believe that," he said, his voice soft. "I think you want me to touch you."

He was standing in front of you now, and he put his hands on your shoulders, his touch feather-light. You felt yourself tremble.

"I think you want me to make you mine, Y/N," he continued, his voice barely a whisper.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that was threatening to escape. "Please, get over yourself. I don't want you, Bucky."

He ignored your request, his hands traveling down your arms. "I think you want me to make love to you, Y/N."

His hands moved up and down your arms, his touch leaving a trail of fire. "I think you want me inside of you, Y/N," he said, his voice low.

You let out a small gasp, unable to stop yourself. He smirked at the sound, his eyes darkening with lust.

"I think you want me to claim you as my own, Y/N," he breathed, his breath hot on your ear.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to form words. He chuckled, his hands moving up and down your arms.

"You know what I think?" He whispered, his voice husky. "I think you've wanted this for a long time, Y/N."

"You know what I think, Bucky? I think you're full of shit," you managed to say, though you were far from calm.

He laughed softly, "Oh, really? And why is that, sweetheart?"

"Because you've been talking a lot of shit all night and haven't made a move," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"Well, maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment," he replied, his hands still on your arms.

"And maybe you're just all talk," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I assure you, I'm not just all talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Want me to prove it to you?”

“Prove what? You can’t even turn me on, you’re nothing but a-“

Bucky's lips cut off the rest of your sentence, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hands began to explore your body.

"Fuck, Bucky," you gasped, pulling away. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "I'm showing you just how turned on I can make you."

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, "Well, you're doing a shit job of it," you managed to say.

He chuckled and moved his hands down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp and his lips met yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You wanted to push him, tell him to get the fuck out of your room, but his touch felt too good. You felt a fire ignite inside you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pressed his body against yours, and you could feel his arousal.

His hands roamed your body, his touch setting you on fire. He kissed you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You moaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. He pulled away with a smirk on his face, you wanted to punch the look right off.

"How about now?" He asked, his voice laced with lust.

"That was nothing," you said, trying to act unimpressed.

He chuckled and leaned down, his lips trailing across your jawline. He nipped at your earlobe, his hands caressing your sides. You let out a soft sigh, your body betraying you.

"Still nothing?" He asked, his lips ghosting across your skin.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," you said, the words coming out as more of a moan.

"Oh, I plan on it," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Well, come on, then," you said, trying to sound uninterested. "You haven't impressed me yet."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, his voice dark. "I'm just getting started."

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body. He squeezed your breasts under your shirt, causing you to moan into his mouth. He broke the kiss and started kissing your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. You moaned louder, unable to contain yourself.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice low. "Not so tough now, are you?"

You gasped as his hands slipping under your bra and pinching your nipples. "Why don't you beg me to fuck you, Y/N? I'll make it worth your while," he murmured against your skin.

"Oh please. I'd never beg for you." You pulled him close, kissing him deeply. You couldn't believe what was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness.

You couldn't deny that you were turned on, but you weren't willing to give him the satisfaction.

He grinded against you, his cock rubbing against your pussy through your clothes. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I grind against you," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

"You wish," you said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"You know you do," he said, grinding against you harder.

You couldn't deny the truth. The way his cock felt against you made your panties wet, and you wanted him to fuck you so bad.  “Just give in, Y/N. I will give you the best orgasm you've ever had."

You wanted him to fuck you, and he knew it. You didn't want him to have the satisfaction, but you were finding it impossible to resist him. At this rate, your panties were probably soaked, and your need for him was growing stronger.

He pushed his cock against you harder, his hand moving down your stomach, until it was on your pants. He cupped your pussy, and you moaned.

"I can feel how wet you are, Y/N. You're practically dripping for me. All you have to do is say the word, and I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

He tugged at the button, pulling them open. He moved his hand inside, and slipped it into your panties.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N," he moaned. "Your pussy is so wet. It's so tight. It's like it's begging for my cock."

He ran his fingers through your folds, spreading your wetness around. You couldn't believe what was happening. A few moments ago, you hated this man. Now, you were letting him finger you. You moaned, and he smirked.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you, Y/N? You want me to make you cum, over and over again," he said, his voice seductive.

"I think you want that more than I do," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll see about that," he said, his hand moving faster.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you tried to keep yourself from moaning. "Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at me while I finger fuck your pussy," he said, his voice low.

You opened your eyes and looked into his blue eyes. They were filled with lust and desire. He stared at you intensely, as he slipped two fingers into your pussy.

"You like that, don't you? You like my fingers inside of you," he said, his voice seductive.

You moaned, and tried not to give him the satisfaction. "You're gonna love my cock even more," he said, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself. He pulled his fingers out and brought them up to your lips, "Suck," he commanded.

You did as he told you, sucking your juices off his fingers.

"Do you taste that? That's how sweet you taste. That's how sweet your pussy tastes."

You moaned and looked at him, lust filling your eyes. "Now, if you want me to fuck you, then you have to beg for it. You have to tell me how much you want it."

You didn't know if you could do it, you were so turned on, but you were not willing to give in. "No, I won't," you said, defiantly.

"Okay," he said, pushing his fingers into your pussy again. "I'll have you begging for it, sweetheart. You'll be a mess by the time I'm done with you."

He curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, God," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He continued to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. You could feel the pressure building inside of you, threatening to explode. You cried out in ecstasy as you came, your pussy contracting around his fingers.

He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. "That was just a taste of what's to come, Y/N. I haven't even started fucking you yet."

He removed his fingers and started removing his clothes. "If you want more, you have to beg me. You have to tell me how much you want me, how much you want my cock inside of you."

You moaned, your body still shaking from your orgasm. You were very horny, you pulled him into a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You kissed him back, and your hands started to wander. You moved your hands up his chest, and over his shoulders, feeling the muscles under his shirt. You broke the kiss and looked at him, his eyes full of lust. He looked like he was the one begging now.

"So, sweetheart. What will it be?" He asked, "Are you going to let me fuck you or are you going to keep being a brat and make me fuck it out of you?"

"Oh, I think you'll be begging me before I even consider begging you," you said, smirking.

He let out a growl and ripped the rest of your clothes off. His eyes were full of lust and desire as he took in your naked form. "You're gorgeous," he breathed, his hand moving up your body.

"So are you," you said, unable to deny his attractiveness.

He smirked, "Flattery will get you everywhere," he said, his hands roaming over your breasts.

"Well, it's the truth," you said, your body betraying you.

You kissed him again, and he kissed you back, his hands exploring your body. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness. You gasped as he rubbed his cock again against you. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He asked, his voice low.

"Fuck, Bucky."  you moaned, your body aching for him.

"Let's take this upstairs, shall we?"

He scooped you up and carried you up the stairs, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. You couldn't believe this was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He laid you on the bed and stood at the foot of the bed.

He climbed on top of you, straddling your legs, "Spread them," he commanded.

You spread your legs, exposing your pussy. He moved his hand to the apex of your thighs, and spread your wetness around. "Your pussy is so wet for me," he growled.

You moaned, your body responding to his touch. He moved his hand down, and his thumb rubbed against your clit. "Do you want my cock inside of you? Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

You didn't answer him, he went down and kissed your inner thighs. His kisses trailed higher and higher, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin. You were practically dripping for him. "Are you ready to beg now, my Y/N?"

"No," you said, your voice shaking.

"We'll see about that." His tongue lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned, the pleasure too intense. He started sucking on your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth.

"Oh, Bucky," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He smirked and moved his hand, thrusting two fingers into your pussy. "Beg." He commanded, his voice rough.

"No," you moaned.

"Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, thrusting into you faster. You moaned louder. "I said beg."

"Bucky..." You moaned, you were still trying to resist him, but it was getting pointless.

"Please. Beg for me to fuck you, Y/N. I want nothing else than to be buried inside of you. Tell me how bad you want it and I'll give it to you. Tell me how much you want me to ruck you, to own you, to make you cum. Beg and I'll give all of me to you. We both know that's exactly what you want."

You were so turned on that it hurt. You needed him, and you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "Yes. Please fuck me, Bucky. I need you so bad. Please make me cum. Please," you begged, your body aching for his.

"Good girl." He smirked and pulled his fingers out of your pussy and stood up. He pushed down his boxers. His cock sprang free, the sight of it made you moan.

"See what you do to me Y/N? See how hard I am for you," he said, stroking his length.

You couldn't help but stare, the sight of his cock making you even wetter. He grinned, enjoying the way you were ogling him. "See something you like?" He teased.

You nodded, "Yes," you breathed.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "It’s all yours baby,” he said, before moving on top of you and pressing his lips against yours. You kissed him, hungrily, your tongues dancing. He tasted like power and lust, and you couldn't get enough. "You ready, baby?"

"Yes," you moaned.

"Good. Because here it comes."  He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside of you was incredible. "Oh, fuck," he moaned.

He started thrusting his hips, fucking you with his cock. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Bucky," you moaned.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips. He thrust into you, harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. You moaned, his name a mantra on your lips. "That's right, Y/N. Moan my name," he growled. He started thrusting in and out of you, his pace picking up speed.

You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He hissed, his cock throbbing inside you. "You like that? You like how my cock feels inside of you?" He asked, his voice a husky growl. "This is all for you, sweetheart. All for you."

"Fuck yes. Please, Bucky, fuck me harder," you moaned, your body writhing under his. You couldn't get enough. He was hitting all the right spots, and you were losing control.

"As you wish." He growled and started thrusting even harder and faster. His grip on your hips was tight, and he was practically slamming into you, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"Yes. Yes, fuck, Bucky. Please don't stop. Fuck," you moaned, the pleasure was almost too much.

He kept thrusting, his cock filling you completely. "You feel so fucking good. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock."

"Oh, god. Bucky. Please. Don't stop. I'm so close. Please," you moaned, the pressure building inside of you.

He fucked you harder, his cock pounding into you. "Cum for me, baby. Cum for me, and I'll cum for you," he growled.

Your body tensed up as you reached your climax, your walls clenching around him and his thrusts became erratic. He came soon after, his seed spilling inside of you.

You rode out your orgasm together, his thrusts slowing, his breathing heavy. You felt amazing, your body tingling with pleasure. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Not even close," he said, his voice seductive.

"Fuck. Me too." You were still in a daze from your orgasm, but you were far from satisfied.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and sweet. He pulled out of you and rolled onto his side, his hands caressing your skin. "I think we're just getting started, Y/N."

You moaned, and he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"I could spend hours between your legs, making you cum over and over again," he said, his lips moving down your jawline.

He moved his hands up to your breasts, and squeezed them, his fingers rolling your nipples. You moaned, arching your back. He kissed down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. "Oh, God. I'm so fucking wet for you," you moaned, his lips sending shivers down your spine.

"Yeah, baby, that's it. Tell me how good it feels," he murmured, his lips moving across your skin.

He lightly played with your nipples, tweaking and pinching them. "Mmm, that feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"I'm not going to stop until you're a trembling mess," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. 

You shivered and pulled him into another kiss, the intensity building inside of you. "What can I say? I’m an incredible lay," you moaned.

He smirked and moved one of his hands to your pussy, his fingers rubbing against your clit. You gasped and arched your back, the sensation was exquisite. "Mmm, yes you are incredible, sweetheart," he growled, his fingers moving faster.

He then pulled out to slapped your pussy, "Get on all fours. I want to fuck you from behind."

You quickly complied, getting onto your hands and knees. He positioned himself behind you, his cock teasing your entrance. He pushed into you, his cock filling you up. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming.

He started moving in and out of you, his cock filling you up with every thrust. He was pounding into you, his cock filling you up. You were moaning, the pleasure overwhelming you.

He started thrusting in and out, his pace fast and relentless. He fucked you harder, his cock filling you completely. "Don't stop. Please. Don't stop," you moaned.

"I can never be satisfied," he growled, his hands slapping your ass.

He reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling it back. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder, his teeth nipping at your skin. You moaned, his movements sending pleasure through you. "Harder, Bucky," you begged, needing more.

He began to pound into you, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. "Oh, fuck, Y/N," he growled, his hips snapping back and forth.

"God, Bucky, that's it," you cried, your body trembling.

He kept going, his grip on your hair tightening. You could feel another orgasm building inside of you. You cried out as the orgasm tore through you, your body shaking with pleasure. He rode out your orgasm, and soon Bucky was growling, his cock throbbing inside of you. "Oh, fuck, yes," he growled, his cock pulsing inside of you as he came.

He pulled out and collapsed next to you, his breathing ragged. You looked at him, seeing his chest rise and fall. You had never seen him look so beautiful. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You were exhausted, but satisfied, the feel of his strong arms around you comforting.

He grinned, "I told you I could make you beg."

"Oh, please. That's not how it went," you said, sitting up. "You practically beg me to let you fuck me."

"That's not how I remember it,” the corners of his lips curling with amusement.

With a casual shrug, you maintained your playful demeanor. "Well, it's what happened."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N," he replied, his hand sliding down to cup your ass.

You responded with a sassy retort, "Oh, believe me, Bucky, I'll be sleeping very well tonight."

"I hope so, because I have plenty more in store for you," he said, leaning over to kiss you.

"Well, you're not exactly terrible," you admitted, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you teased him.

"Not exactly? Ouch." He feigned mock offense, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me," he said, his eyes filled with mischief.

With a smirk, you seized the opportunity, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He returned the kiss with fervor, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned softly as you felt his hands caressing your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You were breathless when he finally pulled away, "Now, that's more like it."

"Glad you approve," you replied, grinning.

You felt a rush of heat between your legs as he gazed at you, his blue eyes full of desire. "I'll always approve of you," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

"Is that so?" You asked, biting your lip seductively.

"You bet," he replied, his eyes darkening as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

You surrendered to his touch, allowing him to take control. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip, sending waves of pleasure through you. He trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, before moving back up to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

As his hands continued their exploration, he whispered, "I could kiss you all night."

"Is that so?" You breathed, your body trembling with desire.

"It is," he replied, his lips brushing against yours.

"You're really insatiable, aren't you?" You echoed the same words he used on you.

"For you? Yes," he grinned.

"You're the worst, Bucky," you sighed dramatically, a grin playing on your lips.

"And yet, here you are, enjoying every moment," he smirked, playfully pulling away from the kiss, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You're ridiculous," you laughed.

"That's what you love about me," he teased, pulling you even closer.

"I never said I love you," you retorted, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Actions speak louder than words, sweetheart."

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me already," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes, ma'am." He kissed you deeply, his hands roaming your body.

You gave yourself over to his touch, losing yourself in the pleasure. It was all you could do to hang on as he brought you to new heights, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

And it was the best loss you ever experienced.

**The End**

[rainybyday]

Graves aren’t the only place people die and rest

People don’t die at their graves, nor do they all die from accidents. Logically Danny knew this, he knows this. 

Maybe it’s because of Amity Park. Amity is just a small town, a place out of the way from the rest. It’s not completely isolated but it’s not really close to any other town or city as well. 

Then again, his ancestors did burn witches so it might have added more into his surprise in later years once he realizes what ‘dead’ is. 

It started off as one of mom and dad’s normal ghost hunting trips. It was a new location and this time both he and Jazz were being brought with them since it was the spring break. The location was an empty cabin, it was old but well cared for and clean. The couple that owns the cabins said that some unusual actives were happening which caught the interest of his parents. And as usual, they had to get rid of the ‘spook’. 

Danny didn’t care as much as he should have, having grown up with his parents' wild urges to find anything remotely close to their research of ghost and getting rid of them. Ever since he became Phantom, he started to care a whole lot more since, after learning and understanding the spirits of the dead, were just people who can’t officially cross. 

But that wasn’t the story. It was when night fell, did he realize an important fact about ghost. 

It was a night flying, just a bit of air and quiet time after dealing with his parents rambling all day and avoiding their weapons. He needed a breather, and nothing brought he more peace than a nightly timed stroll. 

Then that's when he felt it. 

A ghost was nearby.

Huffing that his parents were right, he flew towards the direction of the ghost he detected.

Now Danny isn’t a stranger to childlike children ghost. Sidney and Youngblood were one of the few child-like ghost he met. Cujo was a dog and others like Ember and Kitty were practically teenagers when passed on. 

(And he himself knew that his death should not have happen, should never happen. He was a child when he lived, and he was a child as he died. But he likes to think the moment he became Phantom was the moment he had to grow up.)

In other words, he wasn’t a stranger to young looking ghost.

He was a stranger, however, to the tense aura of fear-help-sorry-fear-fear-hurt-pain-scared-scared-mom-help washing over him as he looked upon a girl was no older than he was, crying over a crack in the ground. 

It was the first time he saw the effects of a newly killed ghost. 

Things became a blur after that, but the moment Danny woke up with white eyes watching him in curiosity did he remembered what happened. 

Her name was Anna, she loves to do photography. She wanted to take pictures in the woods. She saw a man in the woods. She turned around. She made a mistake. She died with a stab wound and her body was left to rot in that crack in the ground. She wasn’t buried. She was killed and left behind. 

She died two months ago. 

That was when Danny remembered that not everyone can die a quiet death. 

(He helped her cross over and brought her to a city in the zone. He didn’t want to leave, not yet, but he knew he had a duty and promised to visit. 

It took a couple of weeks until he saw her smile through her endless tears.)

Then months passed and more trips became a common thing during the summer break. Since it was the summer, their ‘ghost hunting’ trips would take them further away from Amity and all over the state. 

In that one summer season he found other ghosts that were just like Anna. Some in alleyways, others on the road, some at gas stations, a few in front of their homes and the scary sad few that were found in the middle of nowhere. 

Murdered, killed, car accident, strokes, hunger and more.

Death is not something Danny thought of as scary. He thought that those that had died already, those that where ghost, the scary ones. He forgot that death was not something everyone wanted.

(He repressed the memory of how painful his death was.)

But he learned, he remembered, and he helped. 

He wanted to help, to help those that died to soon or to sudden, He wanted to help the ghost that seem so angry, so sad, and the few that looked so empty and helpless that they look worse the living. 

Those looked like they never lived at all.

So, he helped, he helped because this was all he can do. If he can give at least one ghost a peaceful passing, then he can trade those few hours of sleepless nights happily. 

half a year later his parents chose to make an extended trip during the winter break (which he didn’t mind since they would miss chrismas in Amity Park, a miracle all on its own.)

The problem is that the place they wanted to take a trip was in Gotham. 

A city where crime and death rates are at their highest.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw a ghost in Gotham, however, he was surprised when most of the ghosts seemed to be far more calming then all the rest. 

They did not wail in sadness nor did the scream to the high heavens of the unfairness of it all. No, they simply watched over the people that lived there for years and lifetimes more than them.

He thought that it might be easy to take them across the zone and back to their home because of how calm they were, how reasonable, however, that was not the case. 

Instead, they wanted him to help Gotham and the people that lived in those very streets. 

He should have said no, he should have turned away, heck, he should have dragged them back to the zone and be done with it all. 

But he looked deep into the eyes of the dead citizens of this crime filled city and saw sadness. Sadness for the living that had to walk a life of danger, a never-ending release. 

They cared not of their own undead lives but the ones that have yet to die. 

And the undead teenage can only sigh before reaching out his hand as a sign of peace. 

“Who would you like me to save?”

[aseaofyoongi]

caught in waves | ksj

kim seokjin x reader (f)

genre: chef & bmx ksj | strangers to lovers | fluff | smut

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after graduating culinary school you are fired from your very first job as a sous chef — so you move to a small town for the summer only to meet the very cute nephew of the restaurant and airbnb owner.

warnings: not another smut au; strangers to lovers; thoughts of self doubt; brief mention of death beginning with the line “sleeping forever would mean.” to the end of that paragraph; parental death (jin’s unnamed mother); foul language; public sex (twice - cause wtf is a bed); clitorial stimulation; vaginal fingering; tongue fucking; six nine (m./f. receiving); face riding; penetrative sex; unprotected sex, wrap it up my brothas and sistas; creampie; riding (cowgirl); brief orgasm denial if you squint; did not proof read so sorry for any errors now; that was a mouth full but i think thats it lol

word count: 13.1 thousand words

posted: june 25, 2023 at 9am

notable songs: tangerine - anthony watts and anthony russo | otro atardecer - bad bunny | summer love - crush | seaside - seb 🎧

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The bus was nearly empty. 

Just you and two strangers with two remaining stops on the lined route. From your place at the back of the vehicle life seemed to have stopped and you were sort of trapped in the legato vibrato of the RnB beats playing in your ears. But you were here alone with rows of vacant seats ahead of you — while your eyes aimed at the everlasting fields of green pasture filled with an abundance of trees. The vermilion leaves swayed to the rhythm of the wind as the cool draft swept by gently. 

And while you sat inside the muggy bus you couldn’t help but feel like those leaves who have lost their way from home. The ones who we ripped away from their branches and were on an aimless journey only to end up on the ground. All but forgotten and only to be stepped on and torn to shred in the process. 

That was you. In a stump, torn and forgotten. 

You didn’t always hold that ideal synonymous with your name but the sparse roots in the. . circumstances of life were less than perfect and while you tried to drive down the highway of your early twenties on a steady road there were just numerous obstacles hurdled in your path. Some of which affected your life greatly and derailed you from what you believed to be intended and bestowed upon you. 

Back then, you were twenty-one just fresh off culinary school with zealous ambitions and a hunger for success that gnawed at you eagerly. You had a drive ignited in you like an overbearing fire incapable of being put out. Today, that fire lacked its fuel and there were just clouds of smoke left behind while the ashes of the once burning wood were scattered around. 

Everything in your life has gone to shit. 

In just the matter of months everything has gone to absolute shit. 

You couldn’t hear much, so you weren’t alerted to the mechanical voice triggered by the yellow pull cord. You weren’t quite sure if it was due to the music blanketing your hearing or if your sense had gone completely haywire but you couldn’t hear it. Not at all. Your eyes however could see the rectangular screen displaying the ‘stop now’ bold red letters at the front of the bus and as soon as the doors opened. The doors of the bus door opened and closed and quickly the two other passengers on the bus hopped off leaving you entirely alone. This precise moment; these surroundings, took you right back to the big city and its maze-like roads. It sent you right back to the exact time when you felt like this, entirely desolate and empty in all the worst ways possible. 

You hated it. It was suffocating and you could feel the way your airways began to constrict. You didn’t like that feeling — being alone. Yet, it always crept up on you like a lingering shadow. 

It was always fucking there. 

It wasn’t always that way. Before your sporadic travels to the isolated roads adorned by thousands of skyscrapers — back at home things were different: you had a loving family, and you were wrapped up in the warm embrace of your parents and siblings. A hug so tight sometimes you could still feel their phantom body heat warming up your skin. Their touch was your medicine and with their clutch you were cradled right into a cure for wellness. 

While you craved the warm nature of their love. You couldn’t head back home. Not after descending so harshly from the disappointment of your crushed dreams. You had pierced through earth’s stratosphere and crashed your metaphorical ship right in the middle of nowhere. 

You were astray. Off-course. Adrift. 

You couldn’t head back home. 

It’s only been six months since you left home. 

Just half a year. And everything went to shit. 

Though you knew your parents weren’t usually the type to be painted with looks of disappointment — you knew that right below disappointment sat a worse expression, one you weren’t quite ready to experience just yet: commiseration. The awful and dreadful imbue of pity. 

Their youngest had failed. Miserably. You could already see their torn expressions dashed in the horrid tones of black and white, maybe even a bit of gray. It was bad enough in the flashes of your imagination. 

God, no. You couldn’t head back home. 

Instead you ran as far away from home as you could and headed towards a small town. It was nearly invisible on the map unless under the stern squinting of the eye. But you figured a scenic change would likely bring forth a change of spirits. Perhaps, being enveloped in the vibration of the soft melody coming from the crashing of the oceans waves and the aroma of the tide in this new town could become your new remedy for the soul. 

As you neared the houses toned with aquamarine, salmon pink, and citrus yellow wood sidings the bus began braking softly nearing its final stop. 

“This is the end of the road young lady,” the bus driver announced as you peeled your headphones off, placing them around your neck. 

“Yes. Sorry,” you quickly stood up, clinging your backpack onto your back and hurdling the duffel bag over your right shoulder causing one of the straps to snap. Great. You sighed, “thank you so much.” 

“No need to apologize,” he waved off as soon as you stepped off onto the asphalt, “enjoy your stay.” 

Using the navigation on your phone turned out to be much more complicated than you’d originally thought it would be. There were countless seafood shops and though the repetition of the color on the houses was initially very appealing to the eyes you quickly realized how much harder it made it to differentiate and determine your precise location. 

Okay, currently, you stopped in front of the ice cream shop. To the right there was the souvenir store, the convenience store and the flower shop, along with dozens of other stores scattered all around — all of them sat parallel  to the boardwalk right near the beach shore right across the street. 

Kim’s Aboard. You hummed looking down at the opened up map. The blue dot was highlighted. . Still. So you were at your destination according to this, except, you were not. This was way harder than navigating your way through the big city for the first time all of those months prior. Who would’ve thought small towns would be the cherry right on top of your greatest failures. Just what you needed. What the fuck. 

Sitting on the curb you felt defeated. Feeling as if life had taken control of your life while  you were the punching bag just waiting for another jab. 

“Fuck this,” you shrugged off the duffel bag, sinking your head into your lap, “fuck life. Fuck it all.” 

Minutes passed on but you remained. There. On that lonely sidewalk. Not empty but again lonely. Fuck, you didn’t care okay? You were well past the point of feeling fazed, moving through life but not living, finally succumbing to the presumed complications of your days — officially, having given up mentally and physically through and through. 

You simply did not care. Nope. 

You didn’t. . 

Then, you felt a single droplet land on your skin. From overhead the sky was being consumed by the gloomy darkness, and soon enough you knew the clouds would begin their torrential weeping. Very soon. 

Okay. Maybe you did care after all. 

“I get it,” you hissed up at the heavens, “I am damned. Doomed. Cursed. I get it.”

You probably looked mad. Well, more on the edge of insane. Whatever, it was. It likely did not look good at all. 

“Uh,” he approached you in paced steps but the squeaking of his black finishing boots gave him away. Initially, your eyes were averted to the leaden clouds, but quickly, your eyes met him as he kneeled right beside you. The simplicity of his appearance (composed of dark denim washed overalls and absolutely nothing under — but the radiance of his honeyed complexion) drew you nearer to him. “Are you doing okay, miss?” 

His voice was sweeter than the composition of ballads and while the crashing of the ocean waves against the shore constituted its very own euphonious sonnet, in the shortness of six words listening to him was already so much better — so pleasing. 

“I-uh,” surely you remember how to talk. . Right? “I was just looking for the apartment I’ll be staying at for the next few days but I’m a bit lost.” 

“Here,” he sat beside you and his shoulder brushed yours continuously. It was distracting. Very distracting, “The trick is the town is circular shaped. Sort of like a big round about. There’s one road throughout and if you follow it through, you’ll see everything you need to see.” 

You hummed, signaling you understood his breakdown in small towns for dummies, “So, are all of the stores on this main road?” 

“Most,” he said, adjusting his blue cap now having it face backwards. His toned bicep flexed slightly when he reached up, “but there are some down the road. What store are you trying to find?” 

When you turned towards him you swore there was a glimmer of light shining down on him like a spotlight — except, that was impossible. The day was now gloomy robbing the sun of its usual glimmer. But, you weren’t crazy. You’re living it, clearly experiencing the way his radiant glow nearly blinds you. 

You were clearly gawking at him. Too immersed in the perfection outlined in his features. The richness of his dark chocolate eyes seemed as sweet as a candy bar, his full lips and the apples of his cheeks carried the same elements of the carmine mimicking the vibrancy of roses. 

You cleared your throat forcing yourself to finally rip your stare away from him, “Kim’s Abroad,” you began, “seafood store and restaurant combo but also Airbnb adjacent.” 

He chuckled, again a sound so light and airy it traveled in your inner ear like the whistles of a peaceful tune, “Kim, huh?” 

You opened the Airbnb app, moving the phone over for him to get a better look, “Yeah, Kim is what it says,” you confirmed, 

“Yeah, it does,” he looked at your phone screen, “but you’re in the wrong place.” 

“I’m in the wrong town?” 

His lips were still sculpted into a smile. Was your demise an amusement to him? You were almost offended but dimples were just so mesmerizing as they impaled his bread cheeks and you found some ease in them. Momentarily. But the man sitting beside didn’t go back on his word and suddenly there was no denying the rising panic bubbling deep in your stomach. There was no question that your luck has always been absolute shit but you never imagined it could extend this far. It never occurred to you that something like this could happen. 

You laughed and you weren’t sure if you actually found the situation amusing or if it was only a coping mechanism. Who knows perhaps you misheard what he said — Yeah, you probably. . Definitely, did, “please tell me you’re fucking with me. .” 

“Yeah, I’m fucking with you,” he smirked. The curves of his stretched lips now synonymous with the equivalent of a warm embrace yet the playfulness of a jest, “I’m Seokjin. Kim Seokjin. Kim’s Abroad is my uncle’s shop.” 

“Oh,” you finally exhaled, releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in the first place, “you got me good.” 

“Did I scare you?” He stood from the sidewalk and dusted off the bits of sand and gravel from his bottom. 

“Did you scare me?” you huffed, “you damn near killed me.” 

“Well, technically, you are in the wrong place,” he stretched his hand out for you to grab and you did. 

“Don’t even start,” you scoffed playfully. 

“But—“ he cut in, “you’re just on the wrong part of town. Come on. Before it actually starts raining.” 

“You have a car?” 

He shrugged, “something like that.” 

Seokjin did not have a car. You’d digested the grim realization when you two of you walked to the nearby parking lot and instead of approaching the valet he walked the opposite way in the direction of the bicycle rack. 

The bike chained to the rack was blue. . a sapphire which mimicked the color of the ocean waves. It also looked pretty new and like a very competent mode of transportation as everything in this town seemed just a walk or quick ride away. 

 “Hope you don’t mind but I’m not much of a car person,” he emphasized the word car highlighting the stance of his words. And you couldn’t help but wonder why it was — that he wasn’t much of a car person — but you didn’t ask, shoving the plethora of questions right back down your esophagus determining you didn’t need to know. You didn’t know him. . Besides, he was practically your landlord. 

“Of course,” you smiled, tightening the straps on your bag to get it to sit higher on your back, “should I put this here?” you slid your duffel bag off and pointed at the red wagon attached to the bike. 

“Let me help,” Seokjin was toned and built as fuck. You had not really noticed when he approached you ten minutes prior, but now? Now, he was kneeling right in front of you using a variation of ropes to secure your bag in the wooden attachment. And while you hadn’t meant to stare you couldn’t resist the urge to drink in every detail of his every move. 

It was truly like observing an artwork in some museum. . except you had to keep reminding yourself that he was real — This was real. His muscles flexed whenever he tugged on the rope to verify its tightness and his fingers worked diligently to produce an effective knot. His long long fingers. 

Your mind couldn’t help but wonder which other activities he indulged in containing those slender digits of his. 

No. 

No. 

Focus on yourself; focus on your own journey. You shook your head in an attempt to push those beguiling thoughts aside. 

“Ready?” he asked, straddling the bike and signaling you to hop on the pegs. You simply nodded hoping on, placing your palms on his broad shoulders for support. The contact felt as if his skin had been ignited with tiny strings of fire — kind of like you hovering your palms over a burner on the stove. 

It was distracting; the way the heat particles traveled past the layers of your skin warming you to the touch. 

It was so fucking distracting the way your touch felt at ease against him. 

“This is a very small town but we have a lot to offer,” Seokjin peddled down the street — already sounding mildly out of breath having to carry both your weights. 

Your eyes settled on your surroundings; the road ahead, “I can see that. We have the beach on our left and a cozy vintage town to our right. Believe me, it is all I truly need at this very moment.” 

“What are you trying to escape from reality?” 

“More like—“ as the bike moved deeper into town and against the late afternoon wind you felt a wave of relief in your sweaty scalp and forehead, “I’m trying to get away from it forever.”

He chuckled, “forever’s a long time.” 

“Forever is categorized differently for each person,” you shrugged, “my forever could end tomorrow whereas yours could run its course for an abundance of years.”

“I suppose you’re right. .” he said, “but tomorrow is also forever away.” 

“Tomorrow is forever away.” you repeated. 

Within the cold avenues of the buzzling city tomorrow would be a blink away — sparing all extra hours, minutes and seconds right into oblivion. Tomorrow would arrive in the blink of an eye and twenty four hours would perish right into nothing. However, this town seemed different. An hour here has felt like a wrinkle in time and you were comfortably tucked under that luxury of time. 

Sparing time to stop and take everything in and time to breathe. You were spared all of the time in the world to breathe. Finally. 

Back in the city your life had been sort of a blur. The foundation of your days were composed of half assed obligations. Such as getting up to the boisterous roars of the city (which you hated), getting dressed in clothes you hated all to keep up appearances (which you hated), attending classes in an attempt to perfect your culinary skills (which you hated) and then finally going to work at that fucking restaurant until the late hours of the evening (which you guessed it — you fucking hated). There was nothing to look back on and long for and certainly nothing that you missed as everything you ever dedicated a spec of your time and energy to never truly made you happy. 

There was always a vast hole in your heart. It was huge and it only ever grew in width and no efforts ever minimized its size. The pain was great and all you could ever do was endure. 

The ride so far had been quiet and you found peace in that. It gave you a bit of time to swim in your own thoughts for a bit — something you haven’t done in quite some time. Perhaps, substituting the rustling tracks of the subway and the constant beeping of car horns for the songs of the sea would do you some good. It already kind of was. 

“You doing okay up there?” he asked, continuing to peddle his way down the black paved road. 

“I’m doing okay,” you reassured him. 

“I figured you’d just been taking everything in,” he said, “you’ve been a bit quiet.”  

“Yeah, I’m definitely admiring and loving the scarcity of skyscrapers. I like the build of the ranch-style homes. It gives the curb appeal sort of like a homey feel,” your eyes remain glued to your surroundings. While Seokjin was a sight on his own this town — you were beginning to fall in love with. 

“I agree. It’s the primary reason why I’ve yet to leave,” he parked his bike on the bike rack right in front of the two-story building. The sign read, ‘Kim’s Abroad’ in big red letters engraved in a baby blue outline against the white exterior. “We have arrived.” 

“Seafood restaurant and market,” you mumbled reading the tiny black font displayed right below the vibrant sign. 

“All things seafood restaurant and market,” he repeated, getting a hold of your luggage from his wagon, “we are connoisseurs. Don’t you forget that.” 

You giggled, “Kim Seokjin the seafood connoisseur. Noted.” 

Kim’s Abroad sat on the other side of town. Just a couple of steps away from the blue waves of the ocean crashing against the golden shores. Approximately, a ten minute bike ride away from the main pier. This side of town seemed like a hidden gem, like a slice of privacy for the locals. Though the sidewalks remained occupied with on-goers, it wasn’t as congested or loud as where you began your journey earlier that afternoon. 

Up above the weather seemed to settle down as the nimbostratus clouds were being swept away by lighter; fluffier; whiter clouds highlighting the cerulean hue of the late summer afternoon. The sun also seeped through and already your skin prickled with the rising heat. 

“Let me help with that,” you reached out to grab your backpack. 

“Help?” his eyes wide with shock, “you’re our first guest to offer assistance with their own luggage. I like you.” 

“I’ll wear the stamp of approval proudly.” 

Walking into the restaurant was like entering the multiverse of culinary delicacy. The aroma of the various seafood dishes had your stomach grumbling as hunger began its loud roar. The set-up didn’t allow much space for dining in which explained the small tables and chairs lined up outside. Seokjin walked right up to the counter with a sign right above the register which read, order here. To the right of that there was a display with numerous varieties of fish, shrimp, clams, oysters, lobsters with small chalkboards identifying the prices per pound. 

The interior design of the small shop was fairly simple yet very charming. There were wall decor items hung on the white walls in the shape of different sea creatures and fishing nets drapped from the ceiling. 

Seokjin signaled you over to join him by the register, which you did. 

“Our summer neighbor has finally joined us. She’ll be staying for the summer.” he turned towards you. Quickly, you nodded confirming. 

“Hi, I’m Seokjin’s uncle, Gong. Nice to meet you,” he stretched his hand out over the counter which you quickly shook. Gong wore a tender eye smile and pearly white teeth that glimmered under the sneaky rays of the sun invading the shop. You introduced yourself hoping to reciprocate the same amiability. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you added, “I’m really looking forward to spending the summer.” 

“We’re glad to have you give our little town a chance,” he said softly, “Seokjin, why don’t you show her where she’ll be staying. Then, you can come down and grab some food for the two of you.” 

The residential area was deeper into the property. Just a couple of feet behind, Kim’s Abroad. You’d notice there was a continuation of the color white — it was neutral. But also made the small living space seem a bit bland. Colorless walls encaged a small kitchen which led right into the living room. There were two medium sized oval windows facing the ocean. A view you knew you’d spend a lot of time admiring and never getting tired of. 

Seokjin signaled over to the wooden door separating the bedroom from the living space. The bedroom was huge compared to your dorm back in University, and it was accompanied by an on suite bathroom. 

Thank God. 

If there was something you hated while in school it was the fucking communal bathrooms. The working around schedules to avoid the crowded showers, having to do your. . . Well having to take a shit (practically in public) was less than ideal and having to share bathrooms amongst ten other girls was not the most hygienic living situation you’ve had to live through.  

After dropping your bags near the bedroom door you plopped down on the full sized bed. You closed your eyes as tiredness weighed heavy on your eyelids. 

With the fluffiness of the mattress carrying your body, you sensed the way every bone, every muscle and every inch of you became cumbersome against your better judgment.  Though you tried and tried to sit up you couldn’t. It was so fucking impossible. . As if there was a ton sitting on your abdomen preventing you from doing anything. 

You were exhausted. Numb to your surroundings and your thoughts. You had honestly forgotten Seokjin was still in the room with you — that was until you felt the mattress dip right beside you. His body heat radiated off of him in waves and the warm sensation comforted you closer to a deep slumber. 

“Are you still up to eating or are you too tired?” Seokjin mumbled. His voice, so soft and poise almost as if he was afraid to blow your tympanum. 

Your eyes still remained closed. Behind them there was an invasive darkness — much darker than the night sky but there was also peace and all you wanted to do was to succumb to that very feeling. 

It kept you high and you felt light as a feather. You had never engaged in drug usage but you imagined this is what it felt like to be intoxicated. 

“I’m hungry but I’m also so tired,” you yawned almost instinctively, “I just want to sleep forever and ever.” 

“Sleeping forever would mean. . Well, you know. .” You know what he implied and though, that’s not initially what you meant you wouldn’t mind that either. Sleeping forever was peaceful and would spare you the burden of figuring out whatever the fuck your life has turned into. Imagine falling into a deep slumber and roaming over into the afterlife peacefully; serenely. Or maybe not. There were a million thoughts etched onto your brain and while you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn’t. You didn’t mind it but there was also a tug at your heart just urging to allow yourself to see things through. 

“I just meant. .” you paused, “I just meant I’m really really tired.”

“I know. .” he stood from where he sat on the bed and your eyes met him by the door. “Are you still down to get food though?” 

“Have you heard my stomach?” His smile was contagious as you'd quickly learned as a smile was painted on your lips as soon as his lips carved into a bright beam almost as illuminating as the golden star prancing in the late afternoon sky, “I think hunger trumps sleep at this moment.” 

That was a fib. But you didn’t really feel like being left alone with your thoughts at the moment — they were loud, overwhelming and deprecating.  To be honest you’d been lonely for way too long and you hated basking in the solitude of your own company. It’s not what you wanted or what you needed. 

Perhaps, tomorrow will be kinder. 

The sun was less brutal now. 

Likely, because the sun was en route to kiss the ocean as it continued to move closer and closer towards the horizon. The blazing star still had quite a journey ahead but it no longer sat in the middle of the sky shining down with its stinging rays. 

Late afternoons were always your favorite part of the day. Back in the city the congestion of buildings on every street wouldn’t allow for this kind of life; for a scenery like this — and again you began to feel at ease in your heart. You love it. The loud cackling of the neighborhood kids, the sound of skateboards, skates and bikes against the pavement, the smells of backyard barbecues and the briny waters just ahead, which was technically your front yard for the summertime. 

Back in the metropolis you’d learn to suffer through each passing day. Falling into the safety nets of routines and hoping for a better tomorrow.  

There was never fulfillment or satisfaction, just emptiness. A profound and very overbearing emptiness that swallowed you from the inside right into a dark pit of nothingness. 

“I hope you’re not vegan or anything,” Seokjin took a seat right beside you on the ledge of the building, your legs dangling from the edge, “otherwise we’d have to head back into town for some more dining options.” 

“I’m not vegan,” you confirmed. 

“Good, cause uncle Gong made us some crab cakes. He swears they’re his specialty but it’s my recipe,” he beamed. 

“Bullshit. .” I raised my eyebrow at his claim. 

“I’m serious!” he took a bite of the fritter, “well actually it was my mom’s but she taught me how to make it.” 

Was. Past tense. Did he realize he’d refer to his mother’s existence in such a way? He must’ve. Then, that would mean she’s no longer here. . No longer in Seokjin’s life. Did she abandon him or did she pass away? There were a million questions roaming around in your head but again you didn’t dare ask. 

Though, it was hard to imagine him caged in the torment of sorrow. Sure, everyone experiences it sooner or later but it just didn’t seem like him. You’d met him just a couple hours prior and you could already tell Seokjin was a bright soul. With a tender gaze that wrapped you up like a warm blanket and a smile that could ease any burden or pain even in the absence of words.

Already, you’d felt closer to him than anyone you had crossed paths back in the despondent sidewalks of the city. 

Seokjin is a friend. He is your friend. 

“Well, her recipe is amazing,” you utter in between bites, “so thank you for passing it on to your uncle to make.”

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled. 

A brief silence fell between the two as you finished your meal but you didn’t mind the lack of words. It was just the two of you, the lullaby of the waves, and the orange and pink hues set the sky ablaze as the sun continued its journey sinking deeper into the horizon.

Life here seemed to come right out of a painting — sort of like those you would see hung on the wall of an art exhibit and be completely divulged into, finding shelter behind the intricate lines and vibrant colors. 

“Where are those kids headed?” you asked, nodding towards the kids speeding down the street in skates and skateboards. 

“There’s a skatepark down the street,” he said, “I ride my bike there all the time whenever I wanna run away from kitchen duty.” 

“Kitchen duty?” you tittered. 

“You think I’m bullshitin’ again don’t you?” 

“You said it, not me.” 

He shook his head, laughing quietly at your playful banter, “do I not seem like a chef who also happens to be into bmx?” 

“I’d have to see you partake in both of those activities to believe it,” you shrugged. 

“I’m on prep duty early morning so I’ll get back to you on the cooking thing but we can begin with the skate park tomorrow,” Seokjin offered. 

“Tomorrow it is.” 

Seokjin swung back and forth, he seemed to have something on his mind but his lips remained sealed until finally he spoke, “What about you? Do you have any hobbies?” 

“Yeah,” you picked at the blue chipped nail polish on your nails, “I went to culinary school actually. I was a sous chef back in the city but I was fired.” 

“Oh, shit,” Seokjin’s eyes were the size of pool balls, “Led me right into the lion’s den. Didn’t you? Now, I can’t cook for you. You’d put me on the chopping block.” 

“I promise I won’t,” you clasped your hands together, “Contrary to what you might believe, cooking is not my passion.” 

“Parents?” he didn’t need to elaborate, you understood perfectly. 

“Kind of. .” You moved your head from side to side, “They didn’t really influence my decision but my dad’s a chef and I thought I needed to be just like him.” 

“And you learned you didn’t?” 

“Exactly,” you nodded. 

“So what’s your true passion?” 

“Art. I’ve always wanted to illustrate books,” you turned away sensing you’d peel too much back. Perhaps, you have. Perhaps, not but no one had ever asked you that before. No one has ever shown even the slightest interest in learning what fills your heart with joy and consumes your days with a sense of accomplishment, “it was my minor in college.” 

“You should go for it.” 

“You don’t even know if I’m good..” 

“I don’t need to,” he tilted his head in your direction, he was glowing — truly the textbook definition of beauty, “I can see the way your eyes twinkle at the mere mention of it. You should do what makes you happy.” 

“What makes you happy?” 

“This place.” His words weren’t elaborate yet somehow you kind of understood exactly what he meant. 

“What makes you stay?” 

“That’s what keeps me here,” he nodded signaling out to something in front of him but you couldn’t really decipher what he was pinpointing. 

Finally, your thoughts settled, “the people?” 

“The tide,” his chestnut eyes remained on the scenery laid out in front of the two of you. Then he continued, “it’s always serene; peaceful. And even in the havoc of storms the ocean manages to sing a tune that fills me with comfort. It calms me down.” 

“The tide.” You mumbled in solidarity with his words. Because it was true. The ocean was a music box kept open and the more you sat and listened the more at ease you felt. 

As if you were meant to be here, like you belonged here, right where you were. 

Remnants of the night before flashed in your mind and you remember Seokjin’s sweet words as he communicated that the roof was your official hideout as it was closed off to the public and uncle Gong despised climbing anymore stairs than he had to — a place where only the two of you could escape to and just get to know each other for hours and hours. You really liked the sound of that. 

You yawned, rubbing sleep off of your lids and walking into the bathroom to carry out your morning routine. Soon, you moved over to the kitchen preparing yourself a quick breakfast composed of eggs and toasts. After your rooftop adventure Seokjin had accompanied you back into the main part of town to grab a few groceries at the mini super market. Thank God for that. 

Time was now nearing the late afternoon and after throwing on a pair or shorts and a crop top you were flying out the front door, down the stairs and towards Kim’s Abroad. Seokjin said he had the early shift today. It was too early in the day for customers but he was helping with prep before the restaurant opened in about 15 minutes for the lunch rush. 

“You ready?” he asked, exiting the shop through the back door and hanging his apron on a hook you couldn’t particularly see. It was astounding how fine Seokjin looked even in the simplest outfits. Like today, he wore denim shorts which cut off mid-thigh, a white tank, black converse and the same backwards blue baseball cap which he tucked his floppy bangs under to keep them away from his face. 

“Ready.” you confirmed following him to the bike rack as he began unlocking his bicycle from the metal bar. 

Again, for the third time since you two met you hopped on the pegs placing your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling off the back of his bike. You looked down at his soft golden skin stretching over his massive shoulders. You hadn’t noticed the day before but Seokjin was well-built. The dark veins stretched up the dorsal side of his hand and forearm as he gripped the handlebars steering the bike down the street. His bicep flexed whenever he pressed on the hand brakes. 

It was distracting. But whenever you tried to take in your surroundings and drink in the beauty of this town you found your gaze focused on him. 

He was the swirls of black and white psychedelic lines inducing you into a state of hypnosis — demanding your attention be set on him and refusing you spare even a second thinking of anything else. 

That gravitational pull you felt drawing you closer to him despite how close in proximity he was terrifying. You barely knew him and already you felt as if you’d known him forever. 

“We’re here,” he said, pulling up to the green metal bench inside of the skate park. Hoping off, you finally peeled your eyes away from Seokjin and looked ahead to the crowded park adorned with ramps, stairs, rails, dips and countless other obstacles.

“What if. .” you began, ogling the kids successfully landing their tricks, amazed by their effortless talent, “what if they get hurt?” 

“They stand up and just try again.” Surely, it couldn’t be that simple. It must hurt. It had to hurt. Your past of disdained misfortune resulted in you landing on the floor, head first, one too many times which hurt like hell. Those were slips and stumbles nothing hard enough to cause any real damage — you really couldn’t imagine busting your ass here on this fucking concrete. 

“Standing back up must hurt so fucking bad though.” 

“It does,” he pointed out the scars adorning his upper and lower extremities — some healed, some not. 

“So you spend a lot of time with these kids huh?” you asked, simply wanting him to open up a bit more; to learn all of the details unique to him. Those details which made Seokjin who he was.

“Sometimes. When I’m not in the shop,” he shrugged, taking a seat right beside you on the bench. His thighs rubbing up against yours, “don’t go judging me for hanging around here on my down time. I’m not the only twenty year old in this skate park.” 

“I wasn’t judging.”

“Your eyes tell.” 

“Are you saying I’m easy to read?” you asked, his eyes shed their usual tone of dark brown under the sun rays now glowing closer to caramel. 

“Right now you are,” you didn’t know if you were daydreaming but his vision continued to circle your features, first back and forth between your eyes and then lower down to your lips. 

“Are you going to show me what you got or are you just going to sit here all afternoon,” your voice barely above a whisper. You were afraid your stupid mind would lead you to do something stupid. 

“Actually. .” he pulled a pair of white and purple skates from the backpack he previously carried on his back, “we’re here for you.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” 

“I know we only met approximately twenty-four hours ago but I have a confession to make,” you cleared your throat and he moved closer towards you, (As if that could even be possible. . He was practically sitting on top of you), wanting to preserve your privacy, “I’m a klutz. I’m clumsy. I am a walking liability.” 

“Now, you’re just making things up.” 

You shook your head, “I’m not making it up.” 

“If that is the case then it’s okay,” he pushed the skates closer in your direction, “I’m here to help.” 

“I just hope you have a first aid kit near.” 

Seokjin reached into his bag showing me a red pouch with a white cross on it. A wide smile plastered on his face. “I’m always ready.” 

“Of course, you are,” you grabbed the skates from his hands, “ but I’m expecting you to catch me if I fall.” 

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll always be here to catch you.” 

In the middle of your chest, where the seat of your soul beat rhythmically on its day to day course, today in that moment, after those two words were uttered from his dulcet lips there was a stutter in your palpitations and for a brief moment you felt a ping at your chest. It hurt so much — but it also reminded you that you were alive. 

Beads of sweat strolled down your temples as you tried to maneuver the roller blades strapped to your feet. Your balmy palms remained clasped against Seokjin's holding on for dear life. Your eyes were glued to the floor but you continued leaning into his guidance, determining that you would get it and you would not stop until you did. 

Seokjin was extremely patient. Even with your frequent squealing and the death grasp you maintain, he remained calm. Slowly guiding you over the small ramps and the mini cylindrical cone shaped obstacle with the flat tops. 

“You got this,” his words of encouragement dozed you with overconfidence and soon you began feeling invisible. As if you could conquer this and anything else thrown your way no matter how big or difficult. 

With his guidance and instructions you continued being led around the skatepark with your knees slightly bent, your upper body leaning towards him for balance and the slowed gliding of the eight wheels against the pavement. 

“You’re doing great,” he wore a gleeful grin.

You didn’t know if his praise was tainting your lack of better judgment but the words escaped your lips before you even realized what you said,  “can I try it by myself?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I forgot your helmet, knee and elbow pads,” he guided you towards the green bench once again, “let’s keep your first lesson simple. Just until we come back with the proper equipment. Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I think that was the adrenaline talking.” 

“I hope that means you’ve enjoyed yourself.” 

“Of course, as long as I’m invited I’ll definitely be tagging along more often,” you smiled. 

“You’re always invited.” 

Unlike the betrayal of your tremulous legs and arms while skating Seokjin maneuvered his bike with confidence. He dropped into the bowl without hesitation, then jumped. . levitating in mid air. You were stunned, it was as if he could fly — soaring in the sky like an eagle. He did it again, and again, and again and you cheered him on loudly hoping to reciprocate a fraction of the support he’d expressed as he helped you skate. 

“How did you even manage to do that. . without even breaking a sweat?” you were still stunned as the two of you walked down to the shore after leaving his bike back home after leaving the skatepark. Home. Well, temporary home. 

He shrugged, still a cocky smirk planted on his lips, “I used to practice a lot.” 

“You’ve got to teach me to do all of that.” 

“First, I gotta teach you to not fall off your skates.” 

“Right,” you smiled. 

The two of you walked right beside each other leaving no room for space in between — your hands kept brushing against one another and that friction alone radiated prickles of heat to crawl on your skin. 

“You’ll get it soon,” he leaned towards you, bumping his shoulder into yours, “you’re an amazing student. . So far.” 

“So far?” you gasped, taking fake offense at his meager ‘compliment’. 

“So far,” he nodded, “. . because you also did try to go off riding on your own after one lesson.” 

“I didn’t go off running,” you rolled your eyes, “I asked if I could. Drama queen.” 

“Because I was holding on.” 

You shook your head, “again, drama queen.” 

You and Seokjin walked on the sidewalk parallel to the shore line for quite some time now but he kept babbling about this secret spot he swore was worth it. Without a line of questions or an inch of hesitation you followed along knowing that each adventure promised contained a photo album of memories in your mind to go along with it. Still, you didn’t mind the distance and you didn’t care what the destination looked like as long as the plans involved having Seokjin presence right there with you.  

“This way,” he said, cutting down a small pathway leading towards the beach, “I don’t think your flip flops will cut it though,” 

“We’re not too far from the house. I could go back for some sneakers.” 

“There’s no need for that. We’re practically almost there. Come on,” he crouched down in front of you. Was he really insinuating you’d do what you thought he was? “Hop on.” 

Whoever said Mt. Everest was the highest peak on planet Earth was fucking lying.  Though, you have never found yourself on the mountains’ slope, already, you knew being carried on Seokjin’s back was far more exhilarating than any other journey you could embark up the Himalayas. From his back, the world seemed anew. It was brighter, clearer and scorching too. You weren’t really sure if that was because his height boosted you a bit closer to the sun or if it was because his palm rested on your bare thighs, holding you in place as he ascended down the large rocks. 

Perhaps, this is the kind of freedom he felt while riding his bike at the skatepark, quickly you began to understand why he chose that high. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Except you weren’t. His touch was ardent against your skin and while it felt like you played too close to fire, it was also addicting. All you knew is you wanted to feel that blaze on every inch of your body consuming you into lively flames. 

“We’re almost there.” 

“Hey Seokjin, can I ask you a question?” 

“Whatever you wanna know. I’ll answer,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, resting your elbows on his shoulders. His warm breath fanned your arms causing goosebumps to etch on your skin. For a brief second he rested his head against your forearm before continuing, “but first please call me you gotta start calling me Jin.” 

“Jin,” you mumbled, “it suits you.” 

He chuckled, “you had a question?” 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “back at the skatepark you said you used practiced a lot. . on your bike.” 

“I did.” 

“You’re still referring to it in past tense.” 

“I am.” 

“Why?” you really didn’t want to push too far but you also had a desire to ask and know. 

“BMX, the competitions,” he began, “it’s something I did in the past.” 

You furrowed your brows, “But you still do it. What I mean is you still go to the skatepark.” 

He sighed, where was something weighing on his heart. You could feel it, “Yeah, now it’s just a pastime. Something I hold onto. Just to have some sort of life line between the old me and the present version myself.” 

You and Jin were polar opposites. While he chose to dwell in the past, in the blink of an eye you ditched yours back in the city. Without hesitation you abandoned your sluggish life as a caterpillar lurking through the shadows of skyscrapers — awfully slow and urging a better brighter tomorrow. Metamorphosis indicates that after the cocooning stage the insect should blossom into a beautiful butterfly. You weren’t at that last stage yet but you hoped one day you would be. 

“What was the old you like?” 

He shrugged with sour thoughts tugging the corner of his mouth downward, “I was young. . way too young obviously and naive but I also urged for calmer waters.” 

“Did riding help out?” you asked. 

“It did. It helped quite a lot for a long time,” he mumbled, “. .until it didn’t anymore and now I guess I’m trying to make peace with it.” 

“Is there a particular reason why it ever stopped helping?” You felt his muscles tensed as his slender fingers sunk a bit deeper into your skin. It didn’t hurt but you’d hit something you were trying to avoid, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” his feet finally came in contact with the golden grains of sand but he didn’t make any effort to put you down. No, he only held on tighter, “it just drags along a string of. .” he paused, “memories.” 

“Bad. . memories?” 

“Bad memories,” he confirmed. 

The ocean sang its soulful tune just a couple of feet away as the waves continued their rhythmic crashing on the shore. It was soothing. . peaceful and it eased your nerves against his warm palms. 

“During that time. .”  he began, sighing heavy as the soles of his feet continued sinking into the sand as you trotted further down the beach, “I was wandering around aimlessly—in my head for too long. I lost someone close. Someone who I loved more than I even tolerate myself.” 

“Jin, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” there was a slight tremble in his voice, as if he was trying to get a massive knot down his esophagus, “it happened years ago.” 

“Still, time measures no grief. It must’ve been hard then and it probably still is,” unconsciously, you found yourself laying your head against the back of his neck, “but it is okay to feel, and cry and allow ourselves time to process and make our own peace. We’re only human after all.” 

“I’m still trying to make peace with it everyday but I choose to remember our positive days,” his eyes focused on the footprints he left behind on the sand, “her love, her embrace and tenderness, her charisma. . it was very easy to love her.” 

Her? Her. 

The only woman he’s ever referred to in the past tense was his mother shortly after the two of you met. You wanted to ask and express proper condolences. Not to be nosey but to be there for him and provide a shoulder for him to lean on. Make sure he’s actually okay, although he seems to be dealing with things well you still don’t want to trigger any melancholy memories. 

“The good memories will keep her alive and grounded in your heart,” your hand hovered over the center of his chest. “I’m glad you’re on the road to making peace.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“You should continue riding though,” you murmured, “Despite what happened I’ve seen you soar on your bike. It makes you happy and you should do what makes you happy.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he giggled, “I see what you’re doing.” 

You gasped, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course not,” he laughed. 

“I mean it though.”

“I know,” his hands roamed higher down the avenue of your thighs a bit closer to your bum but not quite. The feeling was sensational—vertiginous and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t read through all of the scenarios blooming in your head. . The ones where his touch doesn’t  just stop mid way up your thighs. No, instead he continues inching higher and higher until. . “Thank you,” 

His words pulled you out of your daydream yet you still felt the despotic heat coursing through your body. Too potent to ignore. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking. A monument right out of a National Geographic magazine cover. The two of you lay in the small cave with an oculus skylight at the top allowing the sun to peek through when it sat high on the cerulean sky along with two archways opened right up to the roaring sea. 

The grains of the golden sand felt therapeutic and warm under your indolent frame. There was a brisk breeze cooling you down, not too cold but just cool enough to dry your previously balmy skin. 

It was a slice of heaven. . right here, right now. 

And Jin, he laid right beside you his body heat radiating in eminent waves. Finally his dark strands on full display no longer hidden under the cap the way it’s been since you met him days prior. His shirt was off displaying his sculpted physique which captivated your attention entirely. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking but so was he. And fuck was it blinding the way he was shining brighter than the amber star overhead. He was ravishing; stunning through and through. 

“Was the trip worth it?” he asked, his dark eyes burning a hole at your side. 

“I barely made as much as a trip, you carried me the entire way here,” you scoffed, “is your back really doing okay?” 

He rolled his eyes, “for the hundredth time my back is doing just fine.” 

“So, let me ask you, was the trip worth it with me on your back the entire time?” your expression was deadpanned.

“Wrong question. .” he smirked. “Did my hands and back find comfort in carrying you the entire way? Yes.” 

His hands on you. Your mind flashed in spurs to that very moment where his warm touch birthed goosebumps on your skin. Quickly, that feeling became looped in your mind and even now, when his hands were no longer on you, you felt it—God, you felt it. 

“And the truth comes to light,” you tutted, kissing your teeth and shaking your head in disapproval, “is that all you wanted? To feel me up, Jin?” 

The apples of his cheeks were dusted in a deep roseate shade, “I mean. . it’s not all I wanted.” 

“Are you blushing, Seokjin?” you mumbled, “I thought this was a confessional. I mean you enjoyed having your hands on me the entire way here, right?” 

“Right,” The crimson shade traveled to the tips of his ears. He’s bashful; how cute. 

“Jinnie?” 

He hummed. 

“I also enjoyed it,” you said, “it’s too bad though.”  

“What is?” His eyes were doe-like, holding a luminous glimmer which projected the intricate ocean waves on them as they continued rocking right before you. 

“Your hands never really made it where I needed them.” 

He gulped, “and where was that?” 

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” your fingertips toyed with the button of your shorts. Typically, you weren’t this forward and simply let your misfortune map the adverse roads of your life but today you didn’t care to fight against yourself. You wanted him. You needed him, “of course, we can pick up where you left off and actually progress higher this time.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Are you okay with that?” 

“I’m so okay with that.” 

“Is that the only way in?” you pointed in the direction the two of you came in. 

“Boats can pull up through the archways as well,” Jin’s bottom lip was tucked under his lips and his gaze devouring you entirely. 

Of course, you began the show by slipping your hands under the fabric of your denim shorts. Your middle finger began drawing vertical lines against your clothed slit—dragging it slowly. Up and down, again and again, until the friction became useless to your zealous desire. 

“Then, we better be quick,” you breathed out. 

“I better be quick,” he emphasized moving closer to you. 

The shadows of his face were so close to yours you could draw out every little feature and decipher the hints of eucalyptus and mint from his morning shampoo. Your hands landed on his cheek, leading him closer to you; pressing your bodies to one another. 

Seokjin’s lips were warm and soft like velvet moving in a uniformed dance against yours. It was slow yet passionate as if he was trying to savor every inch of your lips—as if he wanted to be consumed by the taste of your tongue. 

The pads of his fingers left behind a trail of goosebumps as they moved lower and lower, until they came in contact with your shorts. In a swift moment he unbuttoned them and began drawing small figures onto your skin right where the hem of your panties sat. 

Between his lips and his touch you felt inebriated, as if you were mindlessly roaming around somewhere between the clouds and the sky. 

He pulled away but his forehead rested on yours. His lips still hovered over yours as his paced pants fanned his cool breath on them. 

“Can I. .?” 

“Please, Seokjin. Please touch me,” the pleads dripped from your lips semi-automatically and you had to admit there wasn’t a hint of shame to hold you back. 

There was nothing on earth more exhilarating, more enlivening than the feeling of Jin’s hands sinking under the fabric of your silk underwear. Not riding a roller coaster, not climbing the highest mountain on earth, not even winning the fucking lottery. His touch was intoxicating. . just like his kisses and there was nothing you’d rather feel. Except, probably a bit, more. 

“Faster, please,” you whined, swaying your hips against his touch as he drew circles on your aching clit. If obeying and compliance was a stern trait then it is one Jin conveyed with no push backs or arguments. 

“Tell me something doll,” his fingers traveled lower lining up against your entrance. He pressed against your cunt but never pushed past—the squelching of your wetness echoed in your ears. It was all you could hear, “did you ever think we’d be in this predicament this early on?” 

You gasped, urgently shaking your head as his fingers became wrapped in your walls moving in and out of you slowly, “I-I didn’t. But I did hope for it.” 

He sneered, “you hoped for it, huh?” 

“Dreamt of it on my first night here actually.” 

“I dreamt of it too, you know,” he whispered softly, his lips traced the shell of your ear, “the way you’d feel, your sweet sounds, the way you’d be clenching around me the exact same way you are right now.” 

His name was a mantra laced on your tongue and you uttered it once and once again as if it was muscle memory. The only thing, the only name coherent enough in your head—the only one you knew, which was probably true. You couldn’t even recall your own. 

But he had no mercy on you, his digits had no mercy on you—they just moved in and out of your slickness quicker and quicker as time progressed and you were so close, you practically stood at the edge as your orgasm approached in a massive wave. 

“Please,” you moaned, “please let me-“ 

He shook his head, “Just a bit longer, doll.” 

You hadn’t even realized your eyes were shut tight, the back of your eyelids tainted with desperation. And Jin was no longer stationed beside you, instead he kneeled in front of your bent legs spreading them farther and farther away from each other. 

The ocean still sat just a couple feet ahead, still singing that soulful song which eased your nerves the longer you laid on that very sand waiting—urging for Jin’s touch on you. 

It was all you could think of. . the way his touch burned trails of passion on your skin leaving behind a desire so potent that you just couldn’t extinguish without his help.  

He was the only one who could put it out. 

Seokjin removed both your shorts and panties leaving them pooled at your ankles. His austere gaze remained on your cunt and he seemed to be drinking in every detail of your blossomed rose. 

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly.  

“Jin,” your eyes, your voice both dripped with desperation. 

He nodded understanding your unspoken command almost instantly inching closer and closer between your thighs until his face sat just a couple inches away. His tongue was frigid against your slit it weaved a bolt of electricity intertwined along the ridges of your spine. A gasp escaped your lips as he perfected the combination of sucking and licking your sensitive bud before dragging his flattened tongue along your folds. 

A delectable repetition. One, more saccharine than any dessert you’d had the burden of making back during your days in the kitchen. 

This was better. It was so much fucking better. 

Seokjin’s slurp noises against you, your sweet incoherent sounds and the cries of the ocean were one in the same. All of them were the end product of an orchestrated ballad. 

“Jinnie,” your nails massaged his scalp before gripping his face, pushing him closer to you. God, you needed him closer. So much fucking closer. 

“Yes, doll?” His words almost muffled an evident refusal to stop what he was doing. 

“Can I h-help you out?” 

“With?” he continued. 

“Even from up here I can see how tight your shorts have become,” you hissed, “I want you in my mouth while you eat me out.” 

Seokjin pulled away. Your juices coated his chin and mouth, “That’s fine baby, but I want you sitting on my face.” 

Jin took your spot sprawled out on the sand. You climbed on top of him, placing your knees on either side of his face claiming your seat on his features. His hands snaked around your thighs, pulling you down, positioning your soaked cunt to be aligned with his mouth. Meanwhile, you leaned forwards helping him pull down and finally kick off his briefs. 

Seokjin was big. Bigger than you’d imagined. 

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock as you took his tip past your lips, finally getting a taste of his pre-cum. At the same time you felt him take a swipe on your fold before his eloquent tongue dug inside you diligently licking your walls, ridding them off your juices. 

The iteration of a sinful melody. Building up tension in the pit of your stomach while your back arched and your toes curled. 

Though, you tried to focus on the way his cock moved in and out of your mouth—his deathly grasp on your thighs and his tongue. . It was all too distracting. 

“Fuck, Jin,” you keen too dazed in pleasure to fully grasp the way you tugged on his hair keeping his head in place as you began to grind on his face, finally succumbing to the urgency of reaching your approaching peak. 

He hummed under you, leading your unoccupied hand down to his cock and guiding it up and down his shaft. This went on for some time. Felt like forever and then finally he came in warm spurts coating your hand. And that very image drove you to your climax as he licked you dry. 

Carefully, you climbed off his face and laid right beside him, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. 

Your name sounded like peaches in his strained voice, “you. . that was amazing.”  

“You’re amazing,” you giggled, “but once again you did all the work.” 

“I don’t mind doing all the work,” he leaned over leaving peppered kisses on your cheek. 

“You say that to all the girls who occupy the Airbnb?” 

“Nope,” he emphasized the p, “just you.” 

“I find that hard to believe. Just look at you.” 

“You think my charms and good looks are hard to resist?” he beamed. 

“That and the third leg in between your thighs.” 

He laughed. “Well, believe it. You’re the only girl I’ve done. . anything with for years.” 

Your heart beat rhythmically in your chest at the utterance of his confession. His words didn’t mean much at all but you couldn’t help the fluffers in your head and the way your stomach felt so giddy you thought you’d vomit. 

It felt foreign but you welcomed it nevertheless. You liked that feeling. 

“You wanna go swimming?” you asked. 

“Skinny dipping?” he quirked a brow. 

“You’re not worried about someone coming?” 

“If someone’s come in for the past like fifteen minutes they saw me neck deep in your pussy,” he stood up taking off his shirt and leaving his shorts behind before running towards the aquamarine waves, “I don’t really think it matters anymore.”

“If?” you asked following behind him. 

The day before yesterday was a dream. 

A dream, no a wet dream. Composed of your fervent fantasies. And you? You lived in that cave and you probably would for the rest of your time here. Dwelling on his warm touch on your skin—goosebumps rose on every inch of your body causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand straight. 

Your fingers followed the trails he’d mapped on your body, paved so intricately, they were so easy to follow and all roads led to the same exact place. 

You were so wet, but you probably had been ever since that day. Was that normal? You didn’t care, you just wanted him to touch you again. 

There was a knock on the door waking you right out of your daydreams. Grabbing your robe you wrapped it around your figure before heading towards the door. 

“Hey,” you opened the door standing aside allowing him to come in. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA since yesterday,” he kissed your cheek—you guys weren’t nearly official but it kind of felt like you were. . or you hoped so anyway, “Uncle Gong has been on edge lately. There’s another seafood restaurant opening up on the pier. It's got him going crazy.” 

“Crazy prep hours?” 

He sighed before slouching down on the couch, “crazy prep hours,” he confirmed. 

“You must be so tired,” you cooed, “do you want anything to eat? I can make you something.” 

“I’m okay, besides food is not exactly what I’m craving.” 

“Hm,” you straddled his lap. “Then, what is?”

“I should’ve kissed you after I ate you out yesterday,” his hands slid under your robe kneading your upper thighs, “you would’ve gotten a chance to see how addicting you taste.” 

His phone began buzzing, it was Uncle Gong. Jin sighed before pressing the accept button and in a matter of seconds you heard the older man’s voice in a frantic banter. 

You were one hundred percent sure it wasn’t Uncle Gong’s intention to cockblock but you just wanted Seokjin to stay and fuck you into the mattress. 

You were still dripping just thinking about it. However, by the look on his face you were certain he had other news—ones which hindered your fantasies of early morning sex. 

“I gotta go.” 

“Do you have to?” you whined. 

“I don’t want to,” he leaned over, leaving a kiss on your lips. It was brief and your body screamed for more but you didn’t vocalize it. Instead you sat in silence as he continued to carry out a mental battle attempting to find a victo. He had to go, you knew that much. You also knew he wanted to stay. You wanted him to as well but he couldn’t. 

He stood from the couch but before he could make his way towards the front door Jin turned back around, kneeling right before you. His hand reached up cupping your face as he leaned closer until his silken lips landed back on yours. However, this wasn’t just another peck. 

This kiss. 

It swept you under the currents of the bestial sea and you sank deeper towards the ocean floor but you weren’t scared. In the void, under the darkness of the tide Jin was a beacon of light—guiding you towards an eternity where his lips kept moving on yours the way they were right now. 

This fucking kiss. 

Is your beginning but also your end. 

It took your last breath but also made you feel alive. 

You didn’t want it to end. . but it did, “meet me at the restaurant tomorrow tonight. Uncle Gong is letting me prepare something for you. Took a lot of convincing but I had him come around.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Seven o’clock.” 

“Just twenty four hours.” 

He smiled before closing the door behind him. 

Back in the city dating was rather difficult. 

Not only were you a workaholic, you also avoided any kind of social events and situations outside of the restaurant. 

Here, things were a bit different. You came here for a chance at self reflection, to work on yourself and find the real you but instead your path became intertwined with Seokjin and while you didn’t mind you also couldn’t help but reprimand your heart whenever it skipped a beat at the sight of him. 

Sort of like it was doing right now, Jin was in the kitchen of Kim’s Abroad and you sat at the small table set-up for a candlelit dinner for two. 

The gears in the rules of the universe shifted Noone ever went through this kind of trouble—to plan something this nice after they’d already had their fun with you. Especially if things would have taken their  course as easily as they did with him. 

Well, except, maybe Seokjin. 

Cute. 

“Tonight’s special,” he set both of your plates on the table revealing a cut of grilled salmon garnished with lemon wedges, and accompanied by coconut rice and roasted potatoes, “I hope you like it. . but please do lie if you hate it. I’m sensitive.” 

You laughed, mounting your spoon with the perfect bite of all the foods he’d prepared combined before taking it in your mouth, your taste buds danced in delight, “Seokjin, this is heavenly. It is truly amazing.” 

“Is that the honest truth or are you just looking to spare my feelings?” 

“I would never lie,” you swallowed before continuing, “This is all absolutely delicious.” 

“Better than Uncle Gong’s crab cakes?” 

“I thought that was your recipe?” 

“It is,” he shrugged, “but he thinks he makes them better than me.” 

“I don’t know, I think he wins this war,” you joked, “those crab cakes were killer.” 

“Traiter,” he scoffed.

Dinner was exquisite but small talk was left to a minimum when you both realized Uncle Gong’s restaurant curfew was quickly approaching. After cleaning up and closing up you and Seokjin headed towards the roof, unwilling to give up the night and let it cease. 

The street lights lit up the street corners and while there were people roaming around here and there—it was nothing compared to the congested afternoons. 

But you liked this. 

The feeling of you and Seokjin being the only people left behind in the world, the songs of the waves still playing in the background and the stars gleaming overhead. 

“Has this always been your secret spot?” you asked, laying beside him on the navy blue duvet. 

“Yes,” his eyes glowed under the light of the moon, again they looked lighter than you’d remembered, “I practically lived up here like three summers ago.” 

“An escape?” you asked, not really needing to emphasize. 

He nodded, “after mom passed the house choked me with her lingering presence, her scent, her love. I wanted her back. To spend just one more day with her and make sure she knew how much I loved her and how much I would miss her but that’s just not how life worked and she was no longer there.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you snuggled closer into him, laying your head on your chest—his heartbeat thumped against your ear, “I can’t even imagine how hard that time must have been.” 

“It was,” he laid his head on yours, “It was harder than hard if that even makes sense. I shut a lot of things out and no longer found comfort in the things I loved. .” he paused. 

“Like riding?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, there was a slight tremble in his voice, “it’s just mom wasn’t there to cheer me on anymore. Looking out at the stands was depressing because her usual seat was empty. Sadness overshadowed everything on the track, she was all I could think of.” 

You didn’t say anything, just allowed him to carry on without interruptions. He continued, “Uncle Gong tagged along whenever he didn’t have to manage the restaurant but it just wasn’t the same, you know?” 

You hummed letting him know you still listened attentively. 

“Wounds heal over time though and while this one tears a bit every time I think of her, I know she’s up there watching over me,” he said. 

“She is, she’s always been watching over you and she always will be.”

“I know,” he simpered, leaving a soft peck on your forehead. “What about you? Are you missing your life back in the city yet?” 

“Not a chance.” 

“What is this vendetta you hold against the city?” 

“The city is such a hypocrite. I never understood how so many souls could live in the same place and yet one person could still manage to feel so lonely,” you exhaled rather loudly, “life. . things were supposed to be different, you know?” 

“Different isn’t always bad.” 

“I suppose not.” 

“It’s not,” a slight smile sat on his lips. A brief silence fell between you two and then he asked the question you’d avoided giving any thought to since setting foot in town, “do your parents know you’re here?” 

“Not. . really?” 

“That sounded like a question.” 

“It kind of is.” 

A slight smile was displayed on his lips, “Are you here hiding from them?” 

“Kind of. .” you cackled, “it’s not really hiding if they don’t know I’m here to begin with right?” 

“So they don’t know you left the city?” 

“They know—I’m not in the city and taking a small break but they don’t know exactly where,” you say mushing all the words into one long word, not really wanting to decipher what you were saying, “they also don’t know I was fired. I think that’ll break their heart too much.” 

“Are you planning to tell them anytime soon?” 

“I was going to tell them. . once I make it back to the city and find a new job.” 

“Oh..okay.” 

His embrace grew tighter, he held you closer and you could feel his warmth wracking your nerves. It was like he didn’t want to let go.. not now. Not ever. And you didn’t want him to either, “but I’m not sure if that truly is the reality of what I want,” you sighed, “I was miserable in the city, the life I lived there was rigid. Besides, cooking is not what I intend to do for the rest of my life. I just. . I don’t know what to do.” 

“All of the roads leading to our destiny are paved the way they are for a reason,” Jin offered, “they mold us and guide us to the exact spot where we are supposed to be.”  

“You’re right.” 

“Also call your parents. You deserve to pursue what you want but they should also know,” he said. “Plus, I bet they’re worried sick.” 

“Again. . you’re right.” a low sough escaped your lips mimicking the swift draft blowing by in the late night. 

”I know I am,” he said smugly, “what would you even do without me?”

“You’re a cocky motherfucker you know.” 

“If by cocky motherfucker you mean multi-talented handsome Jin. Then, yes I do agree with that.” 

“Not what I meant,” you mumbled. 

“You know, you weren’t talking all this shit when we were in that cave a couple days ago.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s because my mouth was kind of a little busy.” 

“Right,” Jin drew in a deep breath, his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress, “you know I think we left something unfinished back in your apartment a couple of days ago.” 

“Yeah, it’s too bad that you had to go,” you turned around now lying on your side facing away from him, “because I wanted—I needed you to stay so bad.” 

“Needed, huh?” he asked, pressing closer against your back side. Lingers of sandalwood and citrus invaded your nostrils. An aromatic scent so rich and so addicting all you craved was to bury your nose to the base of his neck and grow faded off his fragrance. 

You closed your eyes, ensnared in the trance of his soft pants as he began grinding his crotch against your ass at an agonizing pace. 

His clothed dick marked you before you even had the chance to feel him inside you.

 It was torture. 

“Jin,” you moaned. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” he replied in a derisive tone while clicking his tongue. His hands reached lower and lower until they landed on your inner thighs, “am I close to where you want me?” 

You nodded frantically, “Higher.” 

His fingers delineated the goosebumps forming on your skin as he dawdled his journey to your soaked cunt. 

“Higher, Seokjin. Please,” your voice tainted with desire and desperation. 

“Tell me, is this where you want me?” His digits traced your folds spreading your wetness en route. Your dress now hiked up to your waist as Jin began rubbing small circles on your clit. Then, slowly he repeated, “Is this where you wanted me?” 

“Hm.” 

“You were anticipating this weren’t you?” Jin whispered, causing downpours of chills to trickle down your back, “is that why you wore no underwear?” 

His fingers continued working in-between your folds, “Uh, fuck yes!” You screamed out. 

There were approximately billions of stars in the Milky Way galaxy, a lot of which you were looking up to at that very moment. And yet as you laid there under the incantation of Seokjin’s finger you witnessed the birth of many stars flickering into life. 

Your chest heaved as you settled down from yet another astounding high. 

“Doll,” Seokjin swiped his fingers coated with your juices onto your lips, as if he was applying lip gloss on you. You opened your mouth taking his digits in licking them clean. “Holy fuck, you will be the death of me.” 

“Jin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need you.” 

He laid flat on his back patting his lap, “come on, baby girl.” 

You straddled him, your wet pulsating cunt rubbing against his clothed erection. There was a painful hunger rooting in between your legs—craving nothing but to have him buried deep in you. 

“Take it out,” he instructed. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his briefs just enough for his erection to spring free. 

Slowly, you began sinking down on his cock. Your mouth agape at the overwhelming feeling of him filling you up while your hands landed on his chest for balance. Once accustomed to his size you began to move up and down on his length as he disappeared deeper and deeper inside of you. 

Seokjin was full of pleasant surprises; his fingers, his mouth, his tongue so it was really no surprise his dick was equally as blessed. 

“Seokjin,” you whimpered. 

“Oh doll,” his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin likely to leave marks behind—guiding you to move at a quicker pace.  “Fuck!” 

“God, you feel so good.” 

The composition of your bodies moving against each other molded into the perfect whole. You were two, but while he fucked into you the way he was you felt as if he belonged inside your walls and you never ever wanted to feel empty again.  

“Doll, I’m so close,” his rough and raspy voice was a bass tune in your ears, “so fucking close.” 

“I want you to cum in me. Please, Jin,” you continued riding him, your skin slapping on his continuing your journey on his cock sliding up and down over and over until your walls began to clench around him. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached your peak and you collapsed on top of him, out of breath and too tired to do anything that required moving in any way. 

“Now tell me, is there any chance you’d stay even after the summer’s over.” 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” his skin was scolding even over the layer of his t-shirt, his chest and forehead glistening by a thin layer of sweat, “a lot actually.” 

“And what was the conclusion?” 

“I like it here,” you kissed his cheek, “I think I’ll be staying. . For now. Take some time to myself and explore things.” 

“I like it when you’re here.” 

“That reminds me,” you reached for your purse, “ I have a surprise for you.” 

You pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to him. His eyes scanned the sketch, “Is this us?” 

“It’s us. . in the cave,” you giggled, “I tried to capture every moment.” 

“I especially like the one with my head between your legs,” a rosey shade painted his cheeks. 

“Had to portray my favorite moment from that day.” 

“We can always recreate it. To liven the memory, you know.” 

“Right now?” 

“Right now,” he disappeared lower in between your thighs, his head hiding under the fabric of your dress. 

Kind days were definitely in forecast especially if you had Seokjin right there by your side. 

-

-

-

an: holy fuck this was a blast to write. as always if the smut is intolerable pls look away (although, that may be hard cause there are multiple smut scenes so. . uh, yeah).

for the seokjinnies who miss seokjin very dearly .

[bat-besties]

People often say Cass’ reason for identifying as nonbinary is “not understanding gender” and while it’s often a joke, I do think it’s the complete opposite to Cass’ knowledge. (I’m using she/her for canon, this applies however and whichever way you headcanon Cass’ gender identity)

I feel it’s often coming from a place of her not understanding language, but gender is so much more than language. A lot of sociologists and gender theorists would kill for the ability to perfectly understand body language and then travel across (at least) China, Vietnam, and the US observing people in urban and rural environments, in both peaceful and violent situations. 

 In many ways, her lack of preconceptions about gender or need for language to shape her observances would make her more able to see the reality of gender performance rather than ideals. The idea that women are weak or men are unemotional would be foreign to her. 

As a child she’s isolated, but she still trains with the League of Assassins briefly. Unfortunately, the first time she is heavily gendered is as a disguise and a weapon in the most traumatic event in her lift, which undeniably shapes her attitude to femininity as this post covers. 

But as she runs, her world suddenly expands to, well, the entire world. 

Her gender identity may have come to words and self-expression in America, but the first place she would be able to really observe people is in south China, likely passing through Guangdong and Guangxi over the course of a year or two. That’s a really formative period, and as I personally think Lady Shiva is from south China (specifically Yunnan), is also unintentionally Cass connecting with her heritage. 

She’s a homeless and very traumatised nine year old, so obviously her experience would have been overall awful. However, a teenage Cass still strongly believes in the sanctity of life and the capacity for goodness in people, and I have to think that while she’s seen a lot of darkness, she’s seen a lot of goodness too. Cass isn’t always curious about things she doesn’t understand (as with her reading), but she has to have been observant to keep travelling and keep escaping from Cain. 

She will have seen the wealthy gamblers of Macau, the street vendors of small-town Vietnam, the pickpockets of Gotham. She will have seen different gender norms across cultures, even if she doesn’t know how each language reflects those norms. She would have to adjust to each new place, and refine her body language reading more generally (like how Americans smile way too much), including gendered readings. 

Cass will have seen a million couples, straight and gay. Pairs of women afraid to hold hands but projecting their nervousness on the first date like a signal. Unhappy marriages hidden by false smiles for the neighbours. Elderly couples where the man still walks on the road side of the pavement.

Considering herself an orphan, she will have seen mothers nursing their babies, fathers pushing their daughters on swingsets, sisters yelling at each other one moment and laughing the next. 

Watching unobserved, she would see all kinds of women in the city. Groups of women going from club to club in high heels, schoolgirls copying each other’s homework on the train, business women in neat makeup and a purposeful walk.  

She will have met other homeless girls like herself. Despite being unable to speak with them she might recognise the guarded set to their eyes, the way they are always poised to run - but they might have a smile for her, and a willingness to share a sheltered spot. They might have cut her hair spiky and short, or taught her to play cat’s cradle.  

Unfortunately, she will have seen predatory behaviour, men who leer or talk with deceptively friendly tones to a little girl alone. (I know she’s meant to “discover” men being attracted to her in the comics as a teen but that’s optimistic). When those men approach other girls, she doesn’t hesitate to protect them. 

But she would have seen so much joy too - boys playing football and grown men joining in, old men sitting on plastic chairs and observing the street together, gangly teen boys play-fighting.

On the streets, clustered and sometimes hidden, she would have seen people whose clothing and body language doesn’t match their bodies. Before Cass knows the words transgender and drag and gender nonconforming, she knows that these people are at risk for being different - at risk like she might be, if she couldn’t convince herself she only needs her fighting skills to protect herself. She wouldn’t need words to take each person as they look to her, to have an amorphous and wordless idea of performativity. 

And then of course, she has Barbara, and Batgirl, and finally language. 

So, I think Cass’ gender identity is something she discovers with the background of this huge tapestry of humanity she’s observed over the years. And if she goes “fuck that it makes no sense”, that’s a deeply informed, nuanced Fuck That. 

[explicit-tae]

Public Enemy (Part 1)

Masterlist | Meet the In-Laws (Part 2 to Public Enemy Part 1)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Mafia!Jungkook

Warnings: mafia au, smut, nsfw, mentions of death, unprotected sex, mentions of cheating, jungkook has yandere tendicies yet he's kinda calm here lol, angst, gunplay

Word Count: 8,079

Description: You don't ask many questions when your boyfriend - a High school sweetheart of 4 years by the name of Shin - splurges his money on you and other luxuries. However, you know well enough that he works for one of the biggest mafia leaders of South Korea.

Shin and you met your Junior year of High School, but didn't officially become one until the following year. He was a quiet kid who often kept to himself, laid low and rarely conversed with others. Your friends - who you considered school friends at best - thought he was weird. Most of the male body at your school didn't act the way Shin did - and maybe that's how your crush formed. It was the dark eyes that didn't linger onto anyone for long and the plump red lips that seemed so enticing and inviting. He had a baby face when you met him - features so soft and outspoken that it made you want to pinch his cheeks.

Senior year came around and Shin changed. He grew in size - shoulders more broad, height soaring above you and many other male students. His baby face with the same features you once desired to coo and pinch were now replaced with a chiselled jaw line, piercing eyes and a lip ring right in the middle of his lips.

It didn't take long for you to become consumed by the man that was Shin. Your life slowly wrapped around him - and he knew it. He allowed his attention to be on you, as well. He gave you side glances when he knew your eyes were on him and even smirked a few times when your eyes connected; a harsh blush evident on your cheeks.

Your parents hated Shin once the two of you became official. He was not the man they thought you needed. He was older - only by a few months - and as soon as he became of age, he was covered in tattoos and a few piercings. While you graduated and attempted to look into your future, Shin had already had a job lined up. In the beginning, you were left clueless in what it was. You worked as a barista in a cafe making whatever you could while he brought in bigger cash.

You were embarrassed - now more than ever - to say that you followed Shin to Seoul and left your small town behind. It was no secret how Shin got his money and the gossiping became too much to handle. You spoke with your parents every few months when you left, ensuring that you were alright in Seoul. The phonecalls were never made by them and when you did call, it only lasted a few minutes - until it didn't. Your father stopped answering your calls, and little by little, so did your mother. You got the message that they wanted nothing to do with you now after your years in Seoul with nothing to prove of yourself.

You promised your mother that you would study in Seoul and start a job soon. Shin, on the other hand, thought you didn't need to work. He afforded an expensive luxury apartment for the two of you (that you knew he had to pay double for without any legal income) and bought most of your clothes and necessities. Now as you recollect that memories that you shared with Shin, you suppose his idea was to isolate you - to get you comfortable enough so you didn't depend on anyone but him. To not even depend on yourself.

"You must feel embarrassed." a smooth voice comes through your ears. The sudden sound makes your eyes narrow ahead and finally, you gained consciousness back into reality. You blink a few times, false eyelashes fluttering as you done so. "Sitting here crying while your boyfriend is being laid to rest." the voice says once more, this time closer and familiar. You recognize the voice - the light and smooth voice with a hint of rasp in it. "Nor are you the only one sitting here crying."

Jungkook hums as his eyes lay upon your features. He could tell by your cheeks - tear stained and puffy red - that you've been crying. However, at this moment, he was unsure if you were crying because the death of your long term boyfriend or the fact that said boyfriend - now rotting in his grave - had been going agaisnt the relationship for years now. To see the look on your face when you witness not one, but three woman crying above the closed casket of your boyfriend.

"Are you here to laugh in my face?" You scoff, bringing up your hands to wipe the tears from your eyes. You let out a gulp, your eyes trying (but failing) to keep off the three women, one across from you and the other a few feet away on your right and the last to your left. "You go to all of your dealers funerals?"

Jungkook chuckles. He shakes his head. "Only the ones with such great drama just like this!" he responds.

You roll your eyes. You turn to face him, upset with yourself for finding his smirking lips attractive. However, you managed to shake yourself out of the naughty thoughts. This isn't what you need now - not at your boyfriend's funeral.

"I should go." You accomplish saying. You glance around at the small group of people - to the once crying women who must feel just as idiotic as you, to the man men in black who dressed similiar to Jungkook. The funeral was small, not many people arrived. Shin didn't have many friends and neither did you. He was long exiled from his parents and former life prior to Seoul.

"Off to where?" Jungkook asks. He begins to follow close behind you as you make your way out of the grassy field, your heels digging into the soil. You knew you should've worn flats to something such as this. "You don't have a job and soon you won't have a roof over that pretty little head of yours."

You turn on your heels and shoot him a glare. "You don't know shit about me!" you hiss at him. The audacity of this man, a man you met only once before, to come and speak to you in such a way. You knew who Jeon Jungkook is and just how cocky he was. He had a reason to - he was the physical meaning of tall, dark and handsome. His energy oozes luxury, riches and power and damn did he know it.

"Oh but I do, sweetheart." Jungkook hisses right back, his tone laced with venom. He grasps your wrist tightly and yanks you closer to him. His eyes narrow into yours. "To think I offered you a better life with much more money, power and glory yet you deny me to stay with maggot food." Jungkook lets out a laugh - a genuine laugh as if it was the most comical phenomenon he's ever been apart of.

"Is this the real reason why you're here?" You shake your head in disbelief. "A man who claims to have money, power and glory yet pisses his pants when someone doesn't want him." It was your turn to laugh in his face, enjoying how you seem to hit a nerve. The tongue in his cheek was evident that you succeded in doing so.

Jungkook drops your wrist with a scoff. He composes himself quickly and throws you glare. "When those payments stop coming from that luxury apartment you reside and when you are forced to stop swiping those cards," Jungkook motions with his lips to the bag wrapped in your arms, the black leather bag you wore to seem more humble - it was one of the cheaper ones Shin bought for you in the beginning of your move to Seoul. "then you'll realize that you truly have nothing. Or, maybe when they come and repossess that luxury car you're driving..." Jungkook shakes his head with a chuckle. "Jimin's always hiring."

"More wine?" the soft voice of the waitress says, a look of pity in her eyes as she awaits your response.

You nod your head, a frown on your lips. You take the wine glass into your hands after she pours the red wine into it. You take a gulp, swallowing the wine whole before slamming it onto the table.

You were pissed, to say the least. You were expecting to see Shin here at the restaurant an hour ago - especially since he planned the date. You dolled yourself up for this, washing with the bodywash you knew he loved, dressing in the new designer outfits he bought for you and even pinned your hair up the way he enjoyed.

You checked your phone, not seeing any missed calls or messages from Shin - you have already sent a few to him. You scoffed, shaking your head. Now you were humiliated - stood up by your own boyfriend for an hour now while the waitress comes every few minutes to offer you wine out of pity. The surrounding tables had came and went while you remained waiting here.

"Waiting on someone?"

Your head snaps to the voice and your eyes land on a man, tall with dark hair and the same darl eyes watching you. You swallow at the sight of the familiar man.

"Jungkook-ssi." You bowed your head, realizing the man to be associated with Shin, his respected boss. You've witness the man from afar a few instances.

Jungkook raises his hand. "Just Jungkook is fine." he responds. "May I sit? Or are you waiting for someone?"

You shake your head. You were waiting for a man that wasn't going to turn up anyways.

Jungkook sits, his eyes wandering around the resturant. He motions for a waiter to come. You take note how fast service was when it came to Jungkook, the waiters and waitresses nearly running to his aid. "I need to speak with the owner." Jungkook commands.

You furrow a brow at him and speak once the waiter leaves to fulfil Jungkook's request. "What are you planning to do?"

"Too crowded here." was his response and before you can ask what he expected from such a expensive resturant, a short man comes rushing your way.

"Jeon-ssi!" the man bows to Jungkook. "If I would have known you were going to be here, I would have had the entire area vacant for your arrival."

You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook speaks with the man, his voice firm as he throws around requests. Soon, you're dumbfounded when the tables surrounding you and Jungkook are being ushered away, a few complaining customers protesting. Nonetheless, in the matter of minutes the restaurant was cleared.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Why did you do that?" you question.

"Why not?" was Jungkooks response. "I can hear you better now that we're alone."

You gulp. This felt intimate - far too intimate for a woman with with a boyfriend should be with his boss.

"What are you doing alone here?" Jungkook asks, taking his freshly poured wine and taking a sip. "I'm sure Shin isn't busy now."

You scoff. "I'm sure, as well." you murmur. "He must've forgot."

Jungkook shakes his head. He lifts up the menu before him and says, "Ashame. A man never appreciates a woman until she's fed up and leaves."

"I don't think-"

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter interupts your speech.

Jungkook eyes you and nods. "You can order whatever you want." he assures. "The steak here is exquisint."

Another hour passes and you and Jungkook converse and eat. You haven't had any calls from Shin and slowly, you have grown less concerned. Jungkook was a good conversationalist and even a flirt - but you managed to ignore them and hopefully appeared uninterested.

"Still no word from that boyfriend of yours?" Jungkook questions.

You shake your head. "No, I'm sure something came up."

Jungkook snickers. He chews on a piece of steak and swallows a few moments later. "If I had a beautiful woman like you," his eyes rake your body. You wore a lavender satin dress with a deep neckline, exposing your breast. "I would never let you go where any man can come and snatch you."

Your cheeks flush - you blame the wine. "Luckily there isn't a man snatching me." you retort.

It was that response that had Jungkook pining after you more than he was previously - unbeknownst to you and Shin. He offered you a ride home, which you declined because you drove. However, that didn't mean he went home. No, he followed and watched - from afar - as you entered your apartment, the tall and wide windows gave him a full view. He couldn't hear you but knew well enough you and Shin were arguing with the other.

As days turn to weeks and weeks into months, he already had men following you and reporting back to him. Regardless if you were going to the Salon for your monthly styling or to the boutiques for whatever designer item you can buy. He learned much about you - probably more than Shin ever did.

"Your obsession with this girl is cute." Namjoon told him once, a teasing tone in his voice.

"I think he wants her more because she has no need for him." Jin responded.

Taehyung hums. "She'll have no need for him as long as her personal bank is open." he retorts. "Get rid of the middle man." he shrugs. “Make her vulnerable that she’ll need no one but you.”

You slam your comb down on your vanity table, the clutter of lotions, perfumes and other beauty items jump at the sudden impact, a few even falling over. You let out a snarl as you tightly wrap your hair into a bun - a mess type bun that wasn't presentable in the slightest. "Jimin's always hiring." You mock Jungkooks voice. "Stupid motherfucker." you hiss.

You knew well enough who Jimin was; his name came up a few times from Shin. You didn't know the extent of the name by the name of Jimin - just assumed he was an old greasy man who pimped women out. The audacity Jeon Jungkook had to assume you would stoop low to even do that - let alone for his corporation.

It's been a week since Shin's funeral and to say you were slowly growing miserable was an understatement. You rarely slept, the dark circle under your eyes being evident of such. Your mind wandered often to the three women crying just like you were and pondered who they were and how long they've been in this affair with Shin. You couldn't feel anger with them, however. The look in their eyes when the three of you caught the other was priceless and telling. The three of you were clueless and dumb - and once in love.

You haven't eaten much in the time of Shin's death and then having to prepare for his funeral. You didn't cook much - Shin preferred to eat out. It wasn't as though you couldn't- your mother ensured you knew how to cook for yourself and your children if you decided to have any. Shin on the other hand found it unnecessary. The large luxury kitchen with updated appliances left untouched many years upon your arrival. The fridge and cabinets were useless. Since Shin preferred eating out, you only had light food and bottled drinks.

Within the hour you went from in your empty and quiet apartment to the busy grocery store in Seoul, rolling the squeaky cart down aisles in search of something - anything - you could put together for lunch. You probably looked out of place in here. You wore a denim jumpsuit - something you had for months but only wore now - and a pair of white Louboutins - a gift from Shin after he forgot your birthday dinner he planned last year. Now that you think of it, he was probably with one of the three girls you've seen at the funeral.

You scoff and throw any and everything in your cart and stroll towards the front counter to pay. Your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you done so. The cashier was a young boy who eyes you up and down before offering a smile. You do the same and place your items nearly in front of him to scan.

"Cash or credit, noona?" the boys voice rang through your head.

"U-Uh, credit." You murmur to him, wondering how caught up into your head you were to not realize how fast he was. You rummage through your purse and pull out the black card and swipe.

"Can you try it again?" the cashier says, a look on his face.

So you do. You try twice more then settled on inserting before the cashier looks uncomfortable. "I-It says declined."

"Excuse me?" You hiss back in response, your intention not meaning to sound as harsh as it did.

"It says declined, Noona." The boys face reddens. You hear a few snickers behind you. Your eyes glance at an older woman behind you, arms crossed over her chest.

You swallow. "Can you...can I try again?" you murmur to him, feeling defeated. "I know there's-"

"I can-" the cashier nods.

"There's a line!" the older woman protests. "If you don't have money then try selling your shoes."

You bite your tongue from snapping at the woman. You scoff and snatch your card from the reader and throw it in your purse. "Nevermind." you say to the cashier who looks just as embarrassed as you. You hear your phone ringing when you're half way out the grocery store.

Your eyes roll when you notice it's notice it was your bank - a personal banker to be exact. You sighed, ready to ask what the hell was going on with your card.

"Ji-hoon!" You answer as soon as you close your car door and start it. "Please tell me you know what's going on with my card?"

Ji-hoon lets out a soft chuckle - a nervous one. "Why don't you come down to the bank, Y/N-nim?"

You sigh. "Why? Is everything alright?"

You got your answer when you arrived at said bank and now sat wide eyed in front of Ji-Hoon. Everything was not alright, after all.

"He...he went into our savings?" You mutter in disbelief as you look at the bank statements.

Ji-Hoon shakes his head. "His savings." he says. "Your name is no where on here."

"B-But-" You were with Shin when he opened these accounts.

"I am aware that you were present while Shin-ssi opened these accounts. By what my documenta are saying, a few months back.." Jo-Hook continues to read. "As the main account holder, he has dropped you as a share holder."

"He can do that?" You whimper. You felt like slapping yourself. Of course he could because it's already been done for months.

"I was not aware." Ji-Hoon sighs, a look of pity on his face. "He must've went to another banker."

You allows yourself to sit in Ji-Hoon's office, trying to settle your harsh breathing. "U-Uh, um, what did he spend it on?" you muster up to ask after a few minutes. "If it says."

"That it does." Ji-Hoon nods, a frown on his lips. "He hasn't removed the money and paid with cash, yet that would look more suspicious to take such a large amount of money out."

You patiently wait for Ji-Hoom to continue, blood boiling at the sudden news.

"He's made a few payments to departments of education." Ji-Hoon reads. "Two different types of payments, however. One to the University of Seoul and another a medical facility."

You clench your fists, your manicured nails digging into the skin of your palms. You were sure it had to be one, if not two or even all, of those girls that were crying for him. You were not the only one depending on his wealth it seems. One of them was a college student - you assumed as such. She appeared younger and more naïve - if you could even judge such naïvety.

"That fucking-" You slam your hand down on Ji-Hoon's desk, starling the man. "So I'm broke?" you scoff, tears in the corner of your eyes.

Ji-Hoon swallows a lump. He cared for you like a friend. He saw the hopeful look in your eyes when you and Shin arrived here years back, both young and you seemingly in love. He didn't want to see you hurt. "Y-Yea, technically."

You let out a sob, your anger cracking into sadness at how down bad you were now. Your mind swirled into the memories of the last few years - of your mother begging you not to leave home and to your father threatening to disown you if you had, an empty threat you thought. Your mind fluttered to your high school friends who told you following Shin to Seoul was dumb after graduation.

You were sure if anyone saw you now they would be cackling at your situation. A "I told you so" slipping between their lips soon after. You didnt follow a lot of people from your old town on social media, but the few you did you knew they were either graduating their respected universities, becoming engaged, getting married and even a couple welcoming their bundles of joy to the world.

"Y-You don't have a job, right?" Ji-Hoon ponders aloud.

You shake your head, defeated. You stand, far too embarrassed of your situation.

"You can work here. I can put a word-"

"Thank you, Ji-Hoon. I will be off now." You give him a sad smile, attempting to make it as warm and inviting as you could.

You managed to wreck the apartment upon your arrival back home. You smashed every mirror in site, the anger and sadness finally getting to you. You damaged the kitchen - no cookingware left unharmed and no glass left unsmashed. You went as far as to damage the gifts he gave you - the designer shoes and purses littering your closet.

It didn't make you feel much better, but being able to scream and cry as loud as you wanted was refreshing. Your head was pounding and you were sure you looked as attractive as a bears ass. You could feel the snot on your nose drip and your cheeks puffed red.

You swallow a lump in your throat, falling onto the leather couch next to your phone. You contemplated racking your kitchen knife into it, but as of now you were exhausted.

You grab your phone and unlock it, scrolling until you found the familiar name on your screen. You press the screen and lift it to your ear, listening to the ring.

"Hello?" a soft, sweet voice answers.

Your heart flutters at the familiar sound of home. "E-Eomma." you stuttered into the voice, voice cracking."

"Y/N?" your mother voices raises. "Are you crying? What's happened?"

You shake your head, even though she wasn't there to see. It was a long story that you had no desire to speak of over the phone.

"I-I missed you." You stammered.

Your mother giggles. "I'm always a phone call away." she assures you. "And I'm sure you have enough wealth to visit."

There it was, the side comments. Your mother was known for them, yet you come to miss them and her.

"I-I..." You bite your lip. What did you have plan to say? That your boyfriend was dead? That he has been cheating on you and left you broke with nothing to your name? How could You manage to go through such disturbing events again - all in the same day?

In the end, you couldn't be upset with Shin. You had a reason to, sure. Yet you were raised better than this. Your father raised you to learn how to do anything on your own so you wouldn't depend on a man for anything. And now, you destroyed your home because of the same type of man you were raised to stay away from.

"I-"

"Is that Y/N?" You hear your fathers voice ask in the background. There was shuffling and before you knew it, your dads deep hut loud voice is speaking to you. "Are you alright? Are you pregnant?"

You hoped not. "No!" you insist.

"Hm." was your fathers response.

"I-I...we aren't-"

"Together anymore?" your father scoffs. "I know as much.".

You're taken aback. "How-"

"A man like that is never going to be faithful. Nor will he marry you." Your fathers harsh words were like reality in your ears. You could hear a few murmurs of your mother behind the phone, possibly telling him now wasn't the time.

"I-"

"She needs to hear this." Your father fires back to your mother. "She was grown enough to make the decision to follow a drug dealer to Seoul! She is grown enough to deal with the consequences of her actions."

Your fathers word cut deep, but you knew they were the truth. Your father was never the one to hold anything back- if he had something to say, everyone was going to hear it. It's what you loved and admired about him; even if those same admirations were now thrown at you.

"A-Appa, I-" your voice cracks and soon you're crying again. It's amazing how much tears you had in you - you believed you were out of tears.

"Don't cry, my love. your fathers voice soothes you, the childhood nickname you haven't heard in years making your heart flutter. "I'm disappointed in your actions, yet you are still my daughter. I will love you regardless. Come home."

You wipe your tears from your eyes, letting out a choked sob.

"I knew eventually you would." your father says. "He was never good for you."

Your fathers words hit, you admit. But it's what you needed to hear. The fact that he still loved you after all these years of ignoring and pining after a man he despised - you're forever grateful. Speaking to your parents had you come to the realization that you let yourself go. You weren't the one to let a man use you while you sat by idly and allowed it.

You would be on the next train back to your home town if it wasn't for your fathers words. Him stating that you were grown enough to deal the consequences of your actions. That he knew you'd come home eventually. Of course, you understood he meant no malice in his statement. But now that you had calmed down and let a few weeks pass, you come to your own plan. You wouldn't be the damsel in distress in your story. As the week passed, your sadness turned to anger, then to spite. You hated Shin for what he'a done to you and before you can hate yourself, you knew you had a job to do.

Shin may have been a drug dealer in Jeon Jungkook's little Mafia corporation, yet he still had duties. You knew well enough that once a week the man held meetings with his dealers. Shin was only a low level - a weakling if anything. He did nothing but ove weight. He was surrounded by higher ups who had more to do with Jeon's business. You knew of the family - a group of 6 more men besides Jungkook - who ruled besides him. Each man having power around South Korea just as Jungkook does. However, you were acquainted with Jungkook only but knew of Jimin and his dealings in the brothel and clubs.

This is how you found yourself now at such meeting, At the club owned by the family. It was a cheesy name, Persona, with dark red lights lining up across the walls. It oozed luxury and sex - as it was intended to. The music blares as you walked through, bodies upon bodies held close together - grinding against one another.

Persona wasn't an easy club to get into. You had to know someone or be someone to get in. You were no one - yet - and only attended a few times with Shin because of the dead man - maggot food Jungkook called him. You managed to give the bouncer all the money you had left - 6,000,000 won. It was risky to do so, seeing as you no longer had a roof over your head and lived out of your car that would soon be reprocessed. But - you had hope.

You made your way to the familiar route you recalled Shin taking - a back room where the meetings were held. With the amount of men in black suites hanging around, you were sure the low level dealers were done with their meetings and now it was the bigger leaders chatting. Even better.

You witness the inside of the room once. It held a stage for whatever performer - obviously a nearly naked woman - to be on. There was a black, leather couch surrounding the stage and the walls of the room held mirrors. You knew that was your destination - and as if God was on your side, you saw a cockrail waitress ready to enter the room, sporting a tight white tank too and the shortest black shorts ever. She wore a corset around her - you questioned if she could even breathe.

"I can take it for you." You offer, eyes on her ad you approached. "You look nervous."

"I am." the girl admits, her lips forming into a shy smile. "I know they're important men. They requested a new face."

You nod, liking the new information. "I'm a new face. I don't want you to feel as though I'm taking your spotlight." you back away, hands raising slightly.

"N-No!" she shakes her head. She held a tray of whiskey and a few shot glasses - a total of 7. "I-I'm a bunch of nerves. I'm sure they won't mind if you do it."

This girl must've been new. She appeared young and naïve - much like the crying girl at Shin's funeral. She didn't know everyone here and that would be your win and possibly her downfall on this job.

You grasps the tray and smile at her. "Go check on the other customers." you encourage. "I got it here tonight."

She nods and scurries off. You take a breath and turn to the door. You made sure you looked presentable (not like you had much available besides your reflection in the shot glasses). But you knew you looked good. You made sure that you scrubbed your skin clean and lotion it to perfection. You bought a cheap hotel room for the night - you were determined to not go back. You wore the tightest and sluttiest dress you owned for this occasion.

You knock twice but don't wait on a response. You enter the room and close the door gently behind you. You let out a smile but it wasn't as though any of the seven men acknowledge You. They are speaking among themselves. It was only then did you realize that theres another woman in the room, her being seated in a mans lap. You didn't know his name but watched as he spoke to a blond haired man. As you placed the tray onto the table and begin pouring drinks, your eyes wandered and landed on the woman. Your eyes widen as you recognized her.

And her eyes did the same upon the realization.

You snapped out of your trance and place the shots alongside The table and in front of the chatting men. It was your time to go onto the stage and you did just that. The pole was chrome and inviting. You weren't a pole dancer in the slightest, but you knew how to look enticing enough that it didn't matter. You took notice of the chattering dying down and adverted your eyes to the familiar brown ones staring back at you.

Jungkook watches you, his heart beating in his chest and, dare he say, his length twitching in excitement. His eyes traces the way the dress - a black bodycon dress - hugs your figure as you dance before him.

Your eyes meet with his and Jungkook offers a smirk, eyes gleaming with lust and mischief. He doesn't take his eyes off of you, and neither do you. Not even when you get on your knees, breast on full display for him, and begin to crawl slow and sensual towards him.

You're at the end of the table in front of him. Your fingers wrap around the small shot glass, whiskey untouched, and bring it to your lips. You slurp up the whiskey and once the bitter taste is in your mouth, you bring your own lips to Jungkooks, forcing his mouth open.

Theres a few hollering and laughs being thrown around at the sight of you and Jungkook, tongues twirling against one another.

"I think we should go." a deep voice says, a hint of teasing. "To give our Kookie some alone time with his girl."

His girl. At the moment you didn't understand but soon you would come to. They knew who you were and why you were here and that you weren't your own person anymore - but you were now tied with Jeon Jungkook.

You and Jungkook tongues stopped dancing when the sound of the door closes. You remove your lips from his, however you sit in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. As if it accustomed, his hands are on your ass. He gives a light squeeze.

"Look who it is." Jungkooks murmurs against your skin. He leaves a trail of kisses down your neck to your breast. "Missed me?"

You hum, hips going to rub against his hardened clothed length. "I thought about what you said."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums in response. His hands leave your ass to rip your breast out of the tight dress. The sudden action makes you gasp. The air was cold against your hardened nipples.

"Y-yeah." You stuttered, biting back a moan. Jungkook doesn't waste any time in poking his tongue out to twirl them against your nipples. He moans at the same time as you do, louder as he begins to slurp on your buds. "Jimin's always hiring."

Jungkook grunts. His hand - right - removes itself from your breasts and comes down hard against your cheek. A loud slap echo's across the room and you're stunned in his lap. His fingers take hold of your jaw and forces you to look at him. The lustful look in his eyes says it all. "You're not selling my pussy in a brothel."

You swallow the lump in your throat. You're embarrassed - almost ashamed - at how wet his words made you. You only ever been with one man - Shin - and now being in the lap of another, someone so dominant and powerful - you were sure in a few minutes you'll be leaking in his lap.

"Who says I belong to you?" You retort, grinding your closed clit against him once more, moaning at the friction.

"You did." Jungkook licks up from your breast to your neck then jawline. "When you brought my pussy back to me without me asking."

Jungkooks lips meet yours. It was a quick, deep kiss while his hands roam your breast. He release his lips with a groan. "I can feel how wet you are through my jeans, baby. Let me have a feel."

Your own hands go to rub his shoulders and down to his biceps. You continue to rock against him with the help of his hands on your hips. The sound of moans and the friction of your clothes rubbing against one another is heard throughout the room.

You peak an eye open to see Jungkook, head rolled back and mouth slightly agape. This was your chance. You can feel the metal handle of the gun on his waist against your thigh, all you had to do was grab ahold of it...

Jungkook flutters his eyes open when he feels metal against his forehead. He glares at the hun - his own - pointing back at him. "You," Jungkook chuckles darkly, "are one sneaky bitch."

You smirk back down at him, gun firmly in your hands. You turn the safety off, incase he was feeling bold enough to test you.

"Are you going to shoot me, my love?" Jungkook fake pouts, his doe eyes feigning hurt. "And here I thought you weren't that dumb." he tsks. "Here I thought you would finally be mine again."

"I never was yours." You correct him. As your right hand pressed the gun against his head, your left played with his belt buckle, undoing it and releasing his harden length.

Jungkook gulps, his cock twitching. A trail of pre-cum slides down his veiny length. You lick your lips at the sight. You move your panties to the side and manage to place the tip of his cock against your clit.

Jungkook hisses, fist clenching when you push the gun harder against his forehead. "You dirty bitch." he murmurs. You were circling his tip against your wet clit and he wished nothing more than to show you your place and fuck you until you begged him to stop.

"I won't be in that position again." You tell him, allowing a few inches of his tip to enter you. You both inhale sharply. "I refuse to left with nothing if anything happens to you."

Jungkook flutters his eyes open to heed your expression. He bites his bottom lip at the sight of you - breast on full display for him, pussy nearly wrapping around his cock. He takes a deep breath. "Nothing is going to happen to me." was his response, voice low and firm. "And I won't let anything happen to you."

You moan, sliding his cock deeper inside you. You feel Jungkook's fingers dig into your thighs. You proceed to push his gun deeper onto his forehead in case he felt as though this was a game - it wasn't. You were serious.

"You're a powerful man, Jeon Jungkook," you slurred out, your walls clenching around his girth. "I know you aren't idiotic enough to not have legal money coming in."

Jungkook nods. He had many properties and businesses throughout Seoul alone, let alone the entirety of Korea that he employed trusted men to handle. It was effortless to run through whatever product he was selling through these businesses and the brothel alone brought in enough money to live comfortably.

"I want my name on all of your legal businesses." You rocked your hips, moving slowly. You don't tear your eyes away from his face. Jungkook's eyes snap open and his brows furrow in surprise. "I also want it on your house," you quicken your pace as you rode him, the wet sounds of your pussy only adding to the erotic encounter. "and my car."

Jungkook nods quickly, he doesn't take his hands off of your hips as you ride him.

"A smart man like you also has a will." You sigh, feeling your stomach clench. You bring yourself closer to his face and kiss his forehead next to the gun - still pressed against his head. "I want my name added onto it."

Jungkook lets out a loud groan when you tighten your walls around him. He would give you whatever you wanted if you continued riding him the way you are now. "I will." he insists. "We'll go first thing tomorrow and I'll add you to everything." he promises, hands sneaking to your ass to squeeze.

You halt your bouncing, eyes staring at him. Slowly, you lowered the gun. Jungkook whines and looks at you. He finally sees you clearly. You were fucked out - probably as much as he was. Jungkook snickers. "You have a lot of demands." he tells you. In a swift moment he crashes your back against the stage, gun now across the room. You widen your eyes at the sudden movement but you don't get the chance to speak. His right hand grips the back of your hair and yanks it back, forcing you to look at him forcefully. "But I have my own demands."

Jungkook's face is a few inches from yours as he speaks. "You can have it all. My cars, my businesses, my properties..." his tongue reaches out the trace the side of your cheek in a disgusting - yet erotic - way. "...my money. You will have the luxury you deserve and the power of being by my side. In exchange, I want your loyalty and devotion."

You gulp when he jerks your hair again. You couldn't help but moan - the sensation of his cock, still pulsing inside of you, and the grip he has on your hair. It was the right amount of dominance you craved from him.

"You will be my wife. You will love me and me only." Jungkook swirls his tongue on your lips and you open them, obeying his gesture. "And you will give me a child."

You whimper.

"Those are my demands. You and our child will want for nothing." Jungkook's word are serious, no matter if he was deep inside of you now and tongue going in and out of your mouth.

"I-I..." you stammer. "...want a daughter."

Jungkook chuckles, thrusting into you once. You cry out from the sudden sensation. "I want a son. We can have both." he begins thrusting inside of you at a harsh pace, leaving you no room to adjust to him.

Jungkook lets go of your hair and proceeds to wrap his hands around your neck. "You're finally mine." he grunts out, his eyes not knowing where they want to look. He could watch your face, the beautiful twist of your features as you take him. Or, he could watch the sight of your breast bouncing as he fucks you. He even desires to watch your pussy as he fucks in and out of you - clit engorged and wet just for him. "And all it took was for me to take out that useless boyfriend of yours."

You hear him, but you don't fully comprehend. All you know is that Jungkook is fucking into you with such force and need. "Y-You...killed...him?" you moan at each thrust inside of you.

Jungkook shakes his head. He removes himself from inside of you and swiftly flips you over, ass now in the air. He wastes no time in entering you again and continuing the brutal pace. "No, but it was orchestrated by us." Jungkook is mesmorized by the way your ass bounces against him.

Us. It doesn't go unnoticed by you - his words. You had an idea that Jungkook had something to do with Shin's death, yet without any proof you couldn't do anything. But, as time went on and you lived with the realization that Shin was not the man he said he was, you pondered if it made you seem heartless that you didn't care if he killed Shin or not. The man you loved and left everything behind was going against you to fund other women's lives - so much so as leaving you with nothing to fall back on.

"F-Fuck!" you hiss. Jungkook was hitting your G-Spot with such force and need. You don't remember the last time you had sex like this - sex with urgency. It was as though Jungkook was waiting for this moment - to fuck you like his life demanded it.

"Your pussy was made for me." Jungkook hisses. Again, he removes himself from you and once more flips you over onto your back. He was animalistic, becoming almost a different person at the sight of you being his and only his now. He pushes your legs apart and lowers himself. His tongue swirls against your clit, grunting at the wonderful taste of your juices lapping onto his tongue. He could eat your pussy forever and be content with life.

You didn't care about being loud anymore, the sound of the music just outside the door would drown out your loud shrieks. Yet and still, you could be caught right now, legs wide open and pussy of full display for Jungkook - but you didn't care. Jungkook's tongue sucking and twirling against your clit was all your mind could focus on.

"Look at how fucked out you are and I haven't even fucked a baby in you yet." Jungkook chuckles, his fingers harshly rubbing against your clit. He hovers above you now, his eyes twinkling with delight to see your breath hitching. He then brings his fingers towards your entrance, smirking at the way you whine. He enters three fingers inside of you - index, middle and ring - and thrust. The sloppy sounds of your juices mixed with the fast pace of Jungkook's fingers shoving deep into you.

"S-Shit" You curse, eyes snapping shit. Your hands go to grab onto something - anything - around you to be able to keep you up. Your stomach tighens and you knew that you were seconds from coming.

"Cum for me." Jungkook demands, blood shot eyes watching your face. "Cum all over my fingers."

You let out a sudden shriek as you do as you were told. You let go, feeling relief wash over you.

"Look how beautiful you are..." Jungkook murmurs, his eyes widening when he feels the wet sensation hit his abdomen. "...squirting all over me like a bitch in heat." he shakes his head, removing his fingers. "I'm going fuck a baby into you now."

You don't respond, exhausted by the events of Jungkook making you squirt like it was nothing. Shin never had, but sex with Shin could never compare to sex with Jungkook.

Jungkook enters you again, his hands on your hips. He fucks you with urgency now, determined to cum inside of you. He knew you would be his in the end - ever since the day he decided to speak with you over dinner. He was certain that you would come to him eventually - either willingly or by force. Shin couldn't give you the life you deserved - the power of ruling Korea, the luxury and the riches you and your children will have just by having the Jeon name.

Jungkook's thrust turned sloppy and he knew he was going to cum. He throws his head back and releases a choked moan. With a final thrust, he releases deep inside of you. You're twitching underneath Jungkook, feeling his cum ooze out of you and onto your ass. Your back falls against the cold stage and finally you're able to breath steadily.

Jungkook removes himself from you, pulling his pants up and tightening his belt. He tilts his head at you, offering a warm smile you don't see.

"Let's get you home, my love." Jungkook coos, his demeanor changing as he speaks with you. It was as if he hadn't fucked you like a slut in the club he owned. "We have a hectic day tomorrow and a wedding to plan."

You lift yourself up, eyes glancing at Jungkook. The man was calm but excited, you can tell. You pondered if this was the right decision - to be with Jungkook. His demands weren't much - to marry and bear his children. You were willing to do that for Shin at a point of time, without the man offering you half of his business, properties and eventually a will for you and your children.

You stand and fix yourself. You bite your lip and turn towards him. "Did you kill Shin?" you ask, unsure if he was telling the truth when he said he hadn't.

"I'm not a liar, my love." Jungkook responds. He turns away from you to retrieve his gun. "I did not pull the trigger, however, if you're asking me was it set up by me and my family - then yes. It was. I was not the only one who wanted that useless man dead."

Your own eyes examine his for any hint of deceit.

"I did have plans on killing him so you and I can be together." Jungkook admits, a sinister smile on his lips. "When we were bargained into doing the deed, we agreed. And now, you're mine."

You remained quiet.

Next | Meet the In-Laws (Part 2 to Public Enemy Part 1)

[yandere-collections]

Your post about yandere! small town is absolutely delicious 💞 Please tell us more about them!!!

I'm glad you like it, thank you so much!

So to begin with, a little bit about the town itself. There is only one road in and out of town and it is several turns off the highway. The only people who come into town on a regular basis are truck drivers delivering goods to the local shops. There is almost nothing in town to appeal to regular tourists except for camping under the stars as a way to get away from the modern world. You may encounter some people taking advantage of this isolated society to run from their past out there.

Despite having a relatively small population, the town itself is rather large as the wilderness is technically incorporated since around 15% of people living in cabins out there. The rest is a densely packed downtown, with shops branching off Main Street and roads leading to residential districts. Of course, your neighborhood is one of the densest (and most expensive) with many hastily built apartments surrounding you.

The nearest city is almost an hour away by car. Since regular civilization is so far away, most produce and dairy come from local farms. However, most citizens will still make a trip to the city every once in a while to get non grocery items like medicine and hygiene products at a cheaper price since local stores have much higher prices (for everyone but you). People may try to gain favor with you by bringing you things from the big city that you can’t find in town. 

There is a church in town that later became the community center when no one used it. If you yourself are religious and want to practice in a house of worship, other townsfolk will join you but it won't get used beyond that. You may or may not notice that people only practice said religion while you’re present and that there aren’t followers of other beliefs in town. Little do you know, the church/community center has an underground floor kept completely hidden from you. This is where the temple dedicated to you resides. Here, there are paintings of you and random things that have been stolen from you, along with benches and an altar for citizens to worship and pray to you. 

Living within the church are your most dedicated disciples. These people devote themselves to tending to your shrine, taking a vow to never leave once initiated (the only exception is if you wanted to invite them out- they would never deny you anything). They will also punish sinners (anyone who doesn’t respect you enough or tries to take you out of town) and keep the church free of fighting as it is considered holy ground, never to be tainted by spilled blood. They are well respected among the community and enjoy special privileges. For instance, since they never leave and can’t encounter you in public, the little time they do get to spend with you is never interrupted. They also get free information about you from brokers and have access to a live feed of your whereabouts from the librarian.