#start a chain of shops whos whole job is to pull you out of the day to day into somewhere fantastic

[mysmistree]

I know it's like, the stereotypical american dream to want to own your own business, but like, listen:

I want to own a shop where, on the street, you see what looks to be a regular city shop with regular city doors and windows, if a bit dark. You open the door and step through, and between there and here there's this long cobble-tile pathway with greenery and bushes and maybe trees giving this lovely fey wild kinda vibe, leading up to a lovely little shop in the deep deep depths of this wilderness where I sell like, books and soda/tea/coffee. Somewhere to come step away from all that normal biz just for a few minutes before going right back where you were like you bookmarked your morning.

#my little daydream #this will stay for like a week before i have another crazy #equally wild equally fantastic idea for a store that will have little to nothing to do with this #maybe i should #upon success that is #start a chain of shops whos whole job is to pull you out of the day to day into somewhere fantastic #like disney land without the tickets

[ash5monster01]

Just The Way You Are

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!Tomboy/Mechanic

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Steve was used to girly girls, and maybe that’s why he noticed you, because you weren’t what he was used too. It surprises you both when you realize just how easily you work together in the end.

word count: 2k

Masterlist

Steve had been on hundreds of dates. Each time with a girl who loved small skirts, pink lip gloss, glittery eyeshadow, and Madonna. He was used to these girls, them all looking the same with their big hair, and pink clothes. So every time a girl like that walked into Family Video that fit the bill, he’d flirt, ask her out, and watch as she giggled cutely at his attempts. It was second nature by now and he had grown used to being attracted to these girls. You were different.

He noticed you the first Friday of his first week at the store. It was October and the first Friday night he had to sacrifice for the job. It had just turned to 5 o’clock and he had about thirty minutes until the store was swarmed with people looking for films to fill their weekends with. He stared out the windows, patiently awaiting the rush, when he saw you step out the mechanic shop across the street. You were walking straight for the store and he watched you the whole way. By the time you reached the building he got a better look.

Your hair was pulled back in a messy braid, stray hairs slipping out, but you didn’t seem to mind like most girls did. He could instantly tell he put more work into his hair than you did your own. You wore coveralls tied at your waist, leaving you in a white tank top that was splotched with grease just like your bare arms. He realized he had never seen a woman mechanic before. The only girly thing about you being the small silver chain that hung from your neck. You perused the shelves and his eyes dropped to your shoes, the black converse clearly worn in. A large hole on the side of the one, and he realized the shoes barely held themselves together. Yet he knew it wasn’t cause you couldn’t afford new, you just were comfortable, the shoes an extension of yourself.

“Anything new?” Your voice startled him, not expecting it to sound so sweet based on how you looked. His eyes left your shoes, looking up to meet your own as you held a copy of Indiana Jones.

“We just got Girls Just Want To Have Fun in, been hard to keep on the shelves” Steve suggested, used to giving girls the suggestion considering the minute it hit their shelves it had barely been in the store since. You gave him a dumbfounded look, amazed he would suggest something so girly to you. The minute he saw your face he realized he was wrong. “We also have Just One of The Guys”

You let out a bubbly laugh, straight from your belly, and Steve’s heart flipped over at how beautiful the sound was. You quickly set down the Indiana Jones copy and moved to the counter. “Ring it up”

“Really” he asked, surprised by such a reaction. You nodded, a grin still etched on your face.

“Sounds good, and it deserves a watch after giving me a laugh like that” Steve noted how beautiful your smile was, you didn’t need to be girly to prove that.

“Okay, I’ll grab it for you” he said and sauntered off to find it. Once he returned he had rung it up, you paid, and he informed you when it was due back.

“I’ll let you know how it was” you told him, smile still perched perfectly on your face. He nodded, a bit flustered from the interaction which he hadn’t expected.

And that was how it started. You returned that Friday, the movie in your hand, ready to exchange for another. You told him the movie was good and he should watch it himself. Which he did later that night, and every Friday since you had been back to return a tape and replace it with another. He had gotten to know you slowly, realizing you were just as interesting as any other girl, if not more. Because of this he didn’t understand how you were here every Friday night instead of out with friends or guys.

“Do you ever not watch movies on the weekend?” He asked as he rung up your latest choice. You rose your eyebrows at him, eyes shining in amusement.

“Nope, the only way I wouldn’t watch a movie on a Friday night is if I had a date. If you haven’t caught on by now, I don’t normally have dates” you quipped, joking about the subject lightly but Steve still felt his heart hurt for you. This life had to have some sense of loneliness.

“Do you think that might be because you hide out at home watching movies instead of going out and meeting people?” He teased back, not wanting to make you feel bad because he realized how sad your statement was.

“What about you Steve? Do you think hanging out with those little kids instead of going out might be the reason you work every Friday night instead of asking off?” Steve’s mouth gaped open, not sure how to respond as you grabbed your movie and left with a light chuckle.

After that you guys were close. He eagerly awaited your arrival every Friday, the brief interactions being the only thing to get him throughout the week. You’d tease him, he’d admire you, and then you’d leave, and he’d kick himself for not trying to make a move. The thing was he wasn’t sure how to considering you were so different from the girls he knew. He knew his lame flirting attempts wouldn’t make you giggle like it did to girls in floral dresses, it would probably just offend you.

He hadn’t realized how much you had become apart of his weekly routine until a Friday you finally didn’t show up. He waited and waited but you never came, your car missing from the mechanic shop across the street. Then he realized what it had meant and his stomach had dropped. You were on a date and it wasn’t with him. He was upset but still paid your late fee because he knew you’d return it to whoever was working in the morning.

As he closed the store he couldn’t keep his mind off of it. Going a week without seeing you kind of killed him. It also hurt to know that you said if you ever weren’t watching a movie on a Friday night, you were on a date, and for the first time he realized this wasn’t some weird attraction he couldn’t explain. He just really really liked you and had denied it because he thought he strictly liked the girly girl type. Maybe this whole time he was wrong, he could like you just the same, maybe even more. He spent too much time on his hair, what he wore, and you were carefree and just as beautiful, and maybe that was why he was attracted to you. So he went off to find you, remembering you once mentioned where you lived since your landlord was being a dick about fixing the sink in your kitchen.

The sight of your car parked outside made his heart rate pickup and he prayed your date wasn’t inside there with you. He pulled his car into park beside your own and quickly talked himself up. He didn’t normally get nervous around girls but he figured the ‘you look really pretty today?’ line would make you laugh like you did the first day you met. He shed his video store vest, throwing it in his passenger seat as he pushed open the car door and moved to approach your door.

Quickly he knocked before he could back out and in moments you had opened the door. For the first time ever he saw your hair perfectly in place, curls formed around the shape of your face. You wore jeans and a black blouse but your converse were still on your feet. Loyal as ever. His eyes had just caught the silver chain, laid above cleavage he had never seen as you gave him the sweetest confused look, mascara placed lightly on your eyes.

“Wow” he breathed out and you continued to stare at the video store boy in front of you.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” You had just gotten home, not yet torn the uncomfortable clothes off yet.

“You didn’t come in for a movie?” He muttered, mulling in the fact you looked so different, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Yeah, I had a date” you said, pushing the door open as an invite as you walked back in, hand tugging through the stupid curls in your hair. Steve nervously stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh” he sighed out and you chuckled dryly as you pulled your shoes off. “How was it?”

“Terrible” you grumbled, not really wanting to discuss it. Steve felt his face fall, upset you didn’t have a good night at least.

“Why?” He found himself asking as you opened a door to what he assumed was your room. He watched as the lights flicked on and you began to speak, now out of his sight.

“Guy was a customer at the shop, he figured I just dressed the way I did for work. He wasn’t too happy when I showed up in jeans and sneakers. Thing was, he was lucky I even did my hair and put on a blouse. Hell I even have makeup on” you complained, the lights turning off in your room as you returned now in a large t-shirt and shorts. Your hair a bit messy but more fitting in a sense.

“That’s bullshit” he muttered and you nodded as you plopped down on your couch.

“Now why are you actually here Steve?” You asked and he awkwardly shifted to sit beside you on the couch, unsure how to explain his thought process.

“I’m not really sure, it’s just when you didn’t show up today I was kind of disappointed” you furrowed your brows, confused by what he meant as he said this.

“Weren’t you the one picking on me to go out on Friday nights?” You asked, surprised he even cared if you were there or not.

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize it would bother me then. I was jealous” your eyes widened as he said this, never expecting King Steve to have a crush on a girl like you.

“Jealous?” you questioned, wanting to confirm that you weren’t crazy and Steve was admitting his feelings.

“Yeah, it surprised me but I look forward to seeing you every week. You are pretty much the only reason I stay in that terrible store. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, you were damn near the prettiest thing I ever saw that first day you came in-” You cut off Steve, your lips crashing onto his because you remembered that first day.

You hadn’t expected the newest employee to be one of the most popular and good looking guys in town. And there you were in coveralls and grease stains on your arms, and no chance you’d ever take that image out of his head. He would see you like every guy did, manly, and that threatened them. Yet hearing he thought you were beautiful, at your most comfortable and vulnerable state was something you didn’t realize you needed to hear until now.

It didn’t take long for Steve to react to the kiss, a natural when it came to acts of passion. Apparently calling you pretty ended up working after all. So his hand curled in your hair, pushing you closer to him. His mouth was hot, and you roamed it with your tongue, curling around his own. The small content hum he let out made you smile against the kiss. Soon you pulled back for air, keeping your forehead pressed against his own as your chest heaved into his.

“I didn’t expect that” he chuckled and you smiled wide, just like that first day in the store. Beautiful without trying.

“Neither did I” you told him and he smiled at you, content with the fact that kissing you felt just right.

“Also fuck that guy, you’re the best looking girl I’ve ever seen and you don’t have to paint your face with makeup to prove that” and you kissed him again, because only Steve Harrington had made you feel like the most perfect girl in the world.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x plus sized reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things imagine #netflix #joe keery #joe keery x y/n #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfic), Chapter 20: Prepped

I was ready to go.

I was excited, but nervous. I'd done some catalog modeling, but it is different for a fragrance. This could lead to a contract for that company or more opportunities. I was happy that Paul called to talk about the format of the shoot.

"Does it freedom matter?" Paul asked. "Your old flame and you get to light up the screen!"

I chuckle at that. "We do photograph well."

"Better than you and your-uh-Mimi?"

"We got it where it counts, Paul."

"So you're not the least bit excited about Calida?" he pressed for effect. "Seriously, now."

"It'll be nice," I can't help but smile, being coy. I laugh outright. Some jobs can be just plain fun.

"Too bad you have to stay married--"

"You make it sound like prison, Paul."

"Yeah, whatever."

"It's not a bad thing."

"Isn't it?"

"AS long as you like celly it can be great."

"Ugh, man." Paul snorts. "Like a ball and chain?"

"Ball and chain," I repeat. "I feel quite free, actually."

"Well, can't wait to see this."

"Me, too." 

"See you in the Big Apple, dude."

"Yeah, see you there." I click off and turn to see Mimi standing there. "Hey!"

"I forgot," she says softly. "how long will you be gone?" 

"Three days at the most."

"A three day pass," she half jokes.

I grab her by the hips and pull her to me. "I wish you could come, babe."

"Yeah, my focus for next you is to hire a replacement at Tea Time."

"But the fact you are needed means you guys are doing great."

"We," she corrects. "We are a good team."

"Always have been," I smile, but something about the look bothered me.

"As long so we are honest with each other."

"Of course," I agree, and mental flags pop up. "I love our partnership."

She swallows hard. "Me too."

"I love us," reword.

She smiles and hugs me. "Just...always be honest with me, okay?"

"I can't lie to you, Mimi."

She exhales heavily. "I sent some of your favorite clothes to the cleaners. I 'll got get them."

"I can--"

"No, no, I got it," she smiles brightly, grabs her coat and heads for the door.

"I'll take Roger out," I offer.

She left, and I felt something was wrong. But what?

******

For once I am excited about going to see my parole officer. At least I could talk to him and we were on a first name basis.

"So, you ready for this?" Elliott asks as we sit down.

"I think so," I shrug. "It's a pretty good opportunity."

"And you aren't taking your wife," he nods.

"Christmas rush stuff at the shop," I smile broadly.

"And you are doing a photo shoot with an old flame?"

I roll my eyes at him. "That's ancient history, Elliott."

"Is it, though?" 

"It is," I frown. "Look, I'm married with a kid on the way."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

"I'd never cheat on Mimi."

"Why?"

"What?"

"You told me about the whole million dollar heir thing," Elliott prods. 

"Hold it," I raise a hand. "I love my wife, Elliott."

"Okay, okay," Elliott raises his hands in a defensive gesture. "Just make sure she knows that."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Just make sure you tell her," Elliott shrugs. "It's your first Christmas."

"Yeah, I've been kinda stumped on what to get her."

"Oooh, better get that one right, man!"

"Yeah," I sigh heavily. "I'm hoping to find something in New York."

"Well, the possibilities are endless."

"Yeah."

"A bit of advice."

I start chuckling. "Shoot."

"If he, she, and or it is not good for you and good to you, let it go."

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale romance

[voraciousvore]

Bucky's (32/44)

Chapter 32: A New Type of Pill

Leon hated Mondays. Not because they marked the beginning of the work week—that, he could handle. He hated Mondays because the CEO insisted on scheduling full-day manager meetings every Monday—boring, long meetings that dragged into eternity, where Leon was forced to socialize with the other repulsive Giant men who comprised Mr. Wolfe’s inner circle. Even worse, Mr. Wolfe had promised he would take all the managers back to Bucky’s at some point, so Leon had that ominous forecast hanging over his head. 

His stomach churned with revulsion at the thought. Leon was a gentle Giant, and he couldn’t imagine eating another person, alive and whole, against their will. He believed the existence of a restaurant like Bucky’s, where tiny, vulnerable humans were treated like livestock, was truly deplorable. He hated his role at Big Corp Inc., hated himself for not standing up to the CEO, hated his big fat paycheck that chained him with golden handcuffs to his questionable job. Yet, at the same time, he felt weak and powerless, helpless to take action or enact change. He had always been a spineless coward, and this particular characteristic was ironically one of the factors that gave him career success, since he could turn a blind eye to the shadier dealings of the company. 

Leon wasn’t privy to every detail, but he strongly suspected that Big Corp was responsible for some very immoral, illegal dealings. The CEO hinted at such sordid activities in his meetings. Leon fantasized about quitting, standing up in the middle of the meeting and telling off the whole group before storming out. He imagined going to the police with evidence and seeing all those awful criminal businessmen escorted out of the building in handcuffs, cursing and spitting. He pictured the whole company crumbling into ruin, Bucky’s closing up shop, the humans freed and able to go back to their lives. 

He imagined all these things, and then he would sit obediently and quietly in his chair during the meeting and say nothing. He’d go back to his desk with a tortured conscience and pretend like none of it was happening. He’d go home and slump down on the couch and try not to cry as he blocked everything out. Leon knew he was approaching a breaking point, where he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, but until then he trudged onward in a fog. 

He rode the elevator to the top floor and emerged into unrivaled opulence. His shoes sank into the plush rugs that silenced his footsteps as he walked. Leon timed his arrival to be as close to the start of the meeting as possible, to minimize the amount of time he’d be forced to interact with his peers. He didn’t mesh well with the company culture, but he was quiet and unassuming enough to be able to blend in. Some of the other Giant executives gave him small nods of acknowledgement when he entered. They were lounging out on the luxurious couches and smoking cigars. Leon sat down and smiled politely, pretending to listen as he twiddled his thumbs.  

A minute later, he was spared from further conversation as the CEO emerged from his massive private office. Without being prompted, the men stood up and filed into the conference room. They found their seats around the gargantuan polished wooden table and the CEO took his rightful place at the head of the table, the center of attention. He cleared his throat and settled his thin lips into a mirthless smile. 

“Good morning, gentlemen. I have several big announcements today that I’m sure you all will be happy to hear!” he proclaimed. His deep voice rang through the entire room and echoed off the walls. “First off, after some lengthy negotiations and pulling strings with the right people, I’m pleased to inform you all that our illustrious friend Richard Hardon has been released from prison and will be coming back to work at Big Corp!” 

Boisterous cheers erupted from the assembled managers. Mr. Hardon had been a popular member of the group, so they were excited to see him return. Leon cringed internally. He had worked under Mr. Hardon on the third floor before his promotion, so he knew what a scumbag the man was. He thought about what he did to that sweet human girl Candy and his heart broke. The last person he wanted to return was that wretched monster. 

“I haven’t decided what to do with him yet, since his previous position has already been filled, but I’m sure we’ll find a place for him at our table.” As Mr. Wolfe uttered these words, his eyes, cold and sharp as metal, wandered over to Leon. Leon wasn’t sure why, but he felt a terrible chill that made his hair stand on end. There was something sinister buried in that gaze, a latent threat that went unspoken but was still clearly communicated. He would need to watch his back, lest he find a dagger one day planted in between his shoulder blades. 

“Our second big announcement is related to a new product we’re going to be selling soon. As I’m sure you’re all aware, our partnership with Bucky’s has been as strong as ever. The restaurant is very popular, and is doing so well that Bucky has plans to extend his range and open more restaurants in the area.” The CEO clasped his hands together. “Now, I’m sure many of you are wondering: Where will Bucky source a sufficient quantity of humans to stock multiple restaurants? He’s managing to stock one successfully, with our... extralegal efforts to provide him with supplemental ingredients. But, as far as legal efforts go, the human government can only send over so many humans before the general populace will begin to notice and protest. So, what is Bucky to do?” 

“Well, we at Big Corp Inc. have a solution in the works, of course! A solution that will benefit us all, not just Bucky! As you may know, human society is already improving from shedding the dead weight of their untouchable elements: criminals, the homeless, the unemployed, and any of those undesirable people who are inconveniencing the rest of us with their very existence. Our product specialists and developers, the brains behind the brilliant human pills, asked the question: What if we could do the same thing to Giant society? Get rid of the dregs dragging the rest of us down? And perhaps even anyone that may stand in the way of our success?” 

“I see some of you are puzzled. You all might be thinking: Giants can’t eat other Giants like they can humans, right? Wrong! We’ve done it, gentleman. We have developed a pill that Giants can take to shrink down to human size. It’s not quite perfected yet, but we are very close. We have to wait for government approval to legally sell such a pill, and it must complete clinical trials, but when it is ready—we will be unstoppable! Oh yes! Nobody will dare to cross us!” 

The CEO grinned cruelly, flashing his blocky teeth. Leon was horrified by this revelation. He glanced around the room, observing mixed reactions. Some of the executives seemed unsettled by the existence of such a product. A pill with such extraordinary power could be brandished as a sword against enemies, but could just as easily cut through the wielder. Those Giants didn’t like the idea, indeed the threat, that they could be shrunk down so small. Only humans deserved to be that size, lorded over and eaten—not Giants, the superior breed of people. It was a perversion of the natural order. 

On the other hand, Leon observed a few of the executives whose mouths were watering at the prospect. They could shrink down, humiliate, and devour their enemies. Men who enjoyed such power over others couldn’t possibly resist such a temptation. He repressed a shudder. He knew these pills would be nothing but trouble. He felt sick. He wanted to dip out, but as usual he felt trapped and suffocated. 

Mr. Wolfe continued his oration. “Of course, more modifications need to be made to the product before it is ready. How much the size is diminished is not quite consistent yet, so Giants do not always end up being the same size as a human. They do not stay that size for long enough either. Additionally, when we sell it, access must be restricted. We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands. We’ll have to ensure it is properly regulated.” 

Leon couldn’t help but think, in his contrarian mindset, that the pills were already in the wrong hands. He felt a dreadful foreboding, with a dangerous, coldhearted beast like Mr. Wolfe holding such power.  

“I need full loyalty and cooperation from all of you in our future endeavors, gentlemen. We will have to be more unified and ruthless than ever, going forward. With the power we hold, we’ll be capable of completely dominating the business and political spheres.” 

His words seemed to confirm Leon’s worst fears. Mr. Wolfe continued to pontificate about pills and power, but Leon could no longer focus as his mind wandered and burned with horrific images of what could happen. He didn’t like any of it. What they were doing to the humans was already bad enough, and now they wanted to inflict such barbarism on their own kind as well? Leon wasn’t sure how much more of this cruelty he could tolerate. He wished there was something, anything, he could do to stop the swelling tide. 

The meeting dragged on for a while, until Mr. Wolfe released them for a short break. The managers stood up and wandered out to lounge on the couches and chew on their cigars. Leon, too, stood up with the intention of walking around and stretching out his legs, but Mr. Wolfe stopped him with a massive hand on his bony shoulder. 

“Hold on, Leon,” he thundered. “I need to speak with you.” 

Leon turned around to face the CEO, forcing a strained smile. “Yes, sir? 

The CEO tightened his grip on Leon’s shoulder and firmly guided him into his spacious private office, shutting the door behind him. “Now, Leon. I’m sure you heard me earlier, saying I require undying fealty from my underlings in order for the company to be successful.” 

“Yes, sir,” Leon responded, keeping his face neutral even though his guts were squirming. 

The CEO stepped closer, using his huge bulk to intimidate the smaller man. “I can sense your ambivalence regarding this entire endeavor. And I know you all too well. You’ve been useful to me up to this point, for your competence and obedience. But now, I’m going to have to require more of you. Your heart and mind, not just your body. Understand?” 

“Y-yeah,” Leon stammered, faltering slightly. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

The CEO planted both his hands on Leon’s shoulders, pressing him down into the floor with his weight. “Understand this. Now that Richard’s coming back, you are expendable to me. Unless you prove your usefulness and devotion, I will dispose of you without hesitation, mark my words. I’ll have you fired and blackballed from getting a job anywhere near this city.” 

Leon kept his composure, but he couldn’t stop himself from gulping nervously. The CEO planted a thick finger into his chest and leaned in, his visage inches from Leon’s. “I know what you did at Bucky’s. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat that little human. Leon, you disappoint me.” Leon wished he could sink down into the floor and disappear. 

“Next Monday, we’re going back to Bucky’s for lunch. And this time, I expect you to swallow what you’re given. If you can’t prove your loyalty to me and eat a human, you’re finished at Big Corp, and any other company in the city. Do I make myself clear?” 

Leon’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when he tried to speak, so he merely nodded wordlessly. The CEO gave him a long, intense stare, those sharp metal eyes of his cutting through Leon’s softer orbs, straight into his core. Leon cringed away, ever so slightly, and the CEO’s eyes narrowed with hostile disappointment. Leon sensed that Mr. Wolfe could see clear through him, and had already examined and rejected him. He didn’t need to use Bucky’s as a litmus test. Leon had failed instantly under the lightest scrutiny. He cast his gaze downward in shame. 

Mr. Wolfe gestured for him to leave, and Leon scurried out. He tried not to show outwardly how unnerved he was by the whole confrontation. He went over and socialized with the other executives, staying professional and polite and keeping up his guard. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was stabbed in the back and butchered. He saw enemies in every face, around every corner. He would have to watch himself, because he was next on the chopping block. 

Chapter 33

Chapter 1

#giant #giant/tiny #g/t #tiny #g/t writing #giant tiny #Bucky's #gt writing #g/t story #gt story #gianttiny

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 17 - Bad Habit [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone needs help sometimes.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t that there weren’t any spies who didn’t lie to their superiors.

There just weren’t any spies who lied to their superiors and lived to tell the tale, especially on high stakes missions like these.

You tried to convince yourself that the General would never find out, but that wasn’t the only reason why you were freaking out. Putting false information on your report was bad, yes, but the worst part was that you were beginning to find it harder and harder to report whatever information you found out about your fake boyfriend.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t just stop at one lie.

Your eyes opened as you snapped out of your sleep all of a sudden and you took a look at the window, but it was still dark outside. That wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you had gone to sleep with Bucky by your side but now you were in an empty bed.

“Bucky?” you whispered into the darkness and sat up in the bed. After kicking off the covers, you made your way to the living room but as soon as you got there, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“Hey,” you whispered, “Are you okay? Are the bandages too tight?”

He pressed a hand over his side to check the bandage, then shook his head.

“No, no…” he said, “Did I wake you up?”

“Nope,” you said, “Is the bed too uncomfortable?”

“The opposite.”

You tilted your head “The bed is too…comfortable?”

He let out a small bitter chuckle and ran a hand over his face as you stepped into the room, then sat down on the floor as well.

“I’m not really used to…” he waved a hand to motion around you, “It’s not familiar to be comfortable.”

Ah.

Of course. You should’ve seen it coming, he was a soldier and coming back home was always so hard for soldiers, especially in Bucky’s situation.

You had so many nightmares after bad missions, you had no idea how you would sleep if you had anything close to what he had been through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked and he shook his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t be,” you murmured, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” he paused for a moment, “Please stay.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pushed your hair behind you ear, taking a look at the pillow and the throw on the couch, then grabbed them and put them on the floor.

“Y/N, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

You rushed to the bedroom to grab your pillows and the blanket off the bed, then went back to the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“It’ll be fun,” you said, putting the pillows and blanket on the floor. “Like we’re outside, only not with…annoying bugs.”

“You’re not serious.”

You plopped down the floor and gave him a bright smile. “I am!”

“Darling….” He started but shook his head with a sigh as you lay on your side, pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’m very stubborn, you’re wasting your time if you’re trying to change my mind,” you informed him and he shot you a small smile, then lay down as well. You entwined your fingers with his, then looked up at the ceiling.

“My virtue is so screwed,” you pointed out, making him huff out a laughter.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I mean, there goes my hopes of…” you trailed off, “White picket fence house and puffy skirts and homemade pies.”

“What, you don’t want them with me?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat, then you stole a look at him.

“Can you even imagine that?”

“Yes I can.”

“I think I picture a movie,” you said, “There’s this….big yard, and white picket fences and we painted the house white but the door is red.  And there’s a dog and— feel free to stop me anytime, Bucky.”

“Don’t,” he smiled as if picturing what you were describing made him happy, “Just keep going.”

“We have a rescue dog,” you said, “We got him from a shelter and named him… um, we named him something funny.”

“Is it a big dog?”

“Yeah and you take him on a run every night. Mornings with me, nights with you.”

“That’s a good schedule.”

“He likes me better.”

“Ouch,” his smile widened, “I don’t blame him.”

You hummed, “And you have a mustache I think.”

He shot you a look, “If you say a Clark Gable mustache…”

“I’m just putting it out there—”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you let out a laugh, “And we have an apple tree in the garden. Wait no— we have an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“How big is the garden?”

“Not so big,” you said, “Like in those movies.”

He paused for a moment and you stole a look at him.

“You wanted a big garden?”

“Well,” he said, “We need a big garden for the treehouse.”

“We have a treehouse?”

“Depends,” he said slowly, as if he was intimidated, “Kids love treehouses.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of having kids with him, for the hundredth time the image of a happier future where you weren’t a spy flashing in front of your eyes. You tried to stop the smile pulling at your lips.

“Yeah,” you said, “I think our kids would love them too.”

You could see the ghost of a smile on his face as he rubbed his thumb over your hand.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you yawned, “And in summer we would put a bouncy house thing in the garden and we would put a hammock between the peach tree and the apple tree and we would relax there while the kids are wreaking havoc in the bouncy house.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, sleep luring you as you closed your eyes, taking in his scent, “Sounds like a good plan.”

                                                           ***

You really didn’t have time to second guess yourself today. Yes you had lied to the General and spent the whole night with Bucky imagining an impossible future but now, you had to keep your head in the game.

You would figure out what you would do. Eventually.

This was a mission. You had to start acting like it.

“I don’t think I like this one,” you called out from the dressing room and in a second, the door opened to reveal Chloe who raised her brows.

“Wow.”

You tilted your head and stepped outside to look at yourself better. The gold body chain wrapped around the lingerie gleamed under the shop’s bright lights and you fixed the suspenders, clicking your tongue.

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Wow,” she said again, “I hate you so much, why do you look so hot in lingerie?”

“Chloe, every woman looks hot in lingerie,” you said as you walked back to the dressing room to try the next lingerie set. It was a red lace bodysuit and after a moment of struggle, you got into it, and opened the door again.

“Not this one either.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to sleep with him!” Chloe squealed, “Are you excited?”

You cleared your throat, “It’s just a mission.”

“Yeah but you want to sleep with him?”

“The dude is hot.”

“Y/N.”

“What?” you fixed your hair and frowned at your reflection, “Nope. I don’t like this. It’s too….meh.”

“I doubt Barnes would say meh if he saw you in this,” she said, “He’d probably pass out. You look like you’re about to grab your whip or something. Oh— Y/N, you should like tie him up or something! If we’re not going full on vintage, show him the modern fun times!”

You shot her a look, “Something tells me he doesn’t like to be tied up Chloe.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because HYDRA scumbags tied him up a lot and he still has nightmares about it?”

“Ah,” she said, “I forgot about that. Hey, maybe he could tie you up!”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I said to Julian when he suggested I called him sir in bed,” you stated, “No thank you, I don’t do that sub thing.”

“Now I kind of wish we specified your cover’s kinks,” she heaved a sigh, “It’d make things so much easier.”

“My cover likes to be in control.”

“No, real you likes to be in control,” she corrected you, “Nothing about your cover says control.”

“Chloe—“ you started but stopped talking when the shop assistant approached you.

“Do you find it to your liking?”

“Um, not exactly,” you said, “I mean I like the color but overall—“

“Do you have bridal sets?” Chloe cut you off and your eyes widened.

“Easy there.”

“Like maybe soft pastel tones…. The whole thing though, garter belt and stockings and everything.”

“Of course!” she said, “We have some new arrivals, let me bring them here.”

“Chloe!” you whispered as the shop assistant walked away, “What the fuck?”

“Think about the dresses we picked for your cover,” she said, “Soft pastels. It makes sense that your cover would pick those shades in lingerie too.”

“Bridal? Really?”

“I mean, Barnes will want to propose you right there when he sees you in them so…” she grinned at you while you narrowed your eyes at her, “Come on! I’m very curious about how he is in bed.”

You tilted your head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” you asked, “Because love triangles are so early 2000s.”

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned, “And no. My type is more—relaxed. Less serious.”

You scoffed and leaned back on the wall, crossing your arms, “You could just say Keith.”

She shifted her weight, biting on her lip. “I mean…” she trailed off, “He still doesn’t make a move though.”

“Why don’t you make a move?”

“I could never!” she gasped, “Nope. Ever. Besides, I thought you were against me dating spies.”

“I am,” you admitted, “But it’s your love life. If you want to date a guy who has an extremely dangerous job and worry about whether or not he will come back to you alive….”

“You’re very romantic, Y/N,” she said as the assistant came closer, holding the set. Even you had to admit, it looked very sexy and beautiful at the same time, with soft pastel lace adorning the fabric, and you took a look at the basque, then walked inside.

“Besides, you’re the one to talk.” Chloe called out as you got into the lingerie, then ran your fingers over the garter belt.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend does dangerous stuff too.”

“Fake boyfriend,” you corrected her, fixing the basque, and as soon as your reflection caught your eye, you raised your brows.

“Okay, maybe you had a point,” you admitted and opened the door, and Chloe grinned at you.

“See,” she said, “This is what I was talking about.”

You smirked at her and leaned on your hip, still looking in the mirror.

“Fine, I like this one.”

“Told you,” she sang and you crossed your arms.

“What dangerous stuff has he been doing lately?”

“He was texting with Wilson about some HYDRA person,” Chloe said, “Apparently they want to go after him. Tonight.”

“What HYDRA person?”

“No clue. And we can’t send a team because then it’ll be obvious— Y/N, I know that look,” she shook her head fervently, “No.”

You tried to look as innocent as possible, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You want to go after the same HYDRA person as them, but you have specific orders and we still haven’t got the okay from the top of the chain of command to go after that scum.”

“Chloe.”

“No. I’m not going to give you the address.”

“Well if Barnes ends up dead, I won’t have a mission will I?”

“He’s going to be fine, he fights better than you.”

You gasped, “How dare you?”

“He fights better than everyone in the division!” she insisted, “He can take care of himself.”

You pouted, “Fine,” you said, “I guess I won’t give Keith the idea of taking you out on a date then.”

She paused for a moment, “That’s bribery.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have no shame, do you?”

You motioned at the lingerie set you were in, “Does it look like it?”

She rubbed at her eye and let out a small whine.

“If my dad asks—“

“He’s not going to know.”

“Do you promise to behave?”

“I always behave,” you stated, making her snort.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?” you asked, “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll just make sure he’s alive, that’s it. I won’t get involved in anything.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Chloe pursed her lips. “For your information, I think picnics are romantic.”

“Dully noted,” you said, “Trust me, he will take you on a picnic. So, do we have a deal?”

She rolled her eyes, then nodded, making you let out a laugh and walk back to the changing room.

“I want candles on that picnic too!”

“Send me the list of your demands,” you called out, “I’ll make sure they’re all covered.”

                                                      ***

In all honesty, Chloe was terrible at saying no to people, especially the people she loved.

You fixed your ski mask as you took a look at the text Bucky had sent you after you asked him what he was doing;

Nothing much, going home soon. You?  

“Liar liar….” You sang as you typed your reply.

Soup Kitchen was so tiring, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.

Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the only liar in this relationship.

You took a look at the building’s window through your binoculars, then lowered them to check your phone when it vibrated.

Good idea. Sweet dreams darling.

You tried to ignore the smile on your lips but as soon as you heard gunshots coming from the building, your head shot up.

“Shit,” you murmured and tried to see what was happening, but it was impossible. Whoever they were, they were definitely staying away from windows.

“Not gonna get involved,” you muttered, “Not gonna get involved, it’s stupid and puts the mission in danger. I’ll stay right here, he can take care of himself.”

For about five seconds, it worked.

“I’m being stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the gear around your waist, then checked whether it would actually carry you, “I’m being so fucking stupid, I haven’t even slept with the dude yet….”

You went over to the edge of the rooftop, then took a deep breath, grabbed the cables and jumped to crash through the window of the building the gunshots were coming from. You pulled your gun to shoot the person who looked like he was about to shoot Bucky, sending him to the ground and Bucky pushed the guy he was fighting with through the wall, then turned around to point the gun at you but as soon as he did, he frowned.

“….Shrike?”

“Hi handsome.” You unbuckled the rope from the harness, sending it up to the rooftop again as he lowered his gun. “Need a hand?”

Chapter 18

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine

[bonny-kookoo]

Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

[beigehearts]

Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited. 

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding. 

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers. 

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?” 

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.” 

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.” 

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.” 

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he? 

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?” 

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.” 

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option. 

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose. 

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long. 

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape. 

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this. 

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee. 

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. 

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable. 

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over. 

“May I finish my coffee first?” 

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching. 

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful? 

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary. 

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time. 

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire. 

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire. 

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now. 

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly. 

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all. 

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.” 

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question. 

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back. 

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.” 

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

#hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere illumi #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #phantom troupe #hxh #hunter x hunter #adult trio #adult trio x reader #yandere adult trio #yandere

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2

Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)

Warnings: swearing and smut

Word count: 2.8k

“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.

“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.

Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.

He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.

“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”

“But what about Stark?”

“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”

You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.

“Sir-”

“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”

“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.

“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.

“Are you pimping me out, sir?”

“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”

You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.

“And what exactly is it going to say?”

“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”

“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”

“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.

Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.

“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.

“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”

You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”

Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”

“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.

“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”

You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.

“Thanks, kid.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.

You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”

Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.

You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.

Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.

Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.

Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.

The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.

Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.

“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.

You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.

You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.

“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.

“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.

“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.

“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Say please.” You teased through the opening.

“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.

Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.

He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.

You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.

“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”

“My bedtime snack.”

There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.

His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.

He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.

He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.

“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”

His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.

“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”

“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.

Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.

“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.

“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”

With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.

Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.

“No, sir.” You teased.

“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.

Not as bad as you might think.

Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.

“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.

“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.

“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”

“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”

“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.

“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.

“You’re a child.” You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.

You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.

Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.

“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.

Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #mob steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mob! steve x reader

[satoruin]

➣ coffee shop boy

pairing: childe/tartaglia x gn!reader

word count: 2.1K

summary: you’re just looking for a summer job between your semesters but you find much more than you’re looking for | coffee shop au

notes from lee: god i love stupid ajax, he’s such a dork and this portrays the obviously more gentle side of him

The bell above the door signifies your entrance into the quaint coffee shop. You’re met with the distinct smell of coffee wafting through the small area and a quick ’hello’ from whoever is at the counter. 

It’s become one of your favorite study places as of late and not just because of the cute ginger-haired barista you liked to ogle. The atmosphere is usually a calm one and somehow compels you to study more than you would in your dorm or school’s library. The caffeine and desserts offered at the connected bakery may have also been another factor in wanting to study there—

You're quick to order what you usually do, not quite in the mood to change up your order. You hold the cup in one hand from the top, heat still making its way through the top, but not enough to be uncomfortable. You make your way over to the display case of the connected bakery, something sweet might just give you the push needed to finish up your essay.

There’s a little bit of a line so you join and make up your mind as to what you’re going to order, when you come to the front there's a stack of papers that are labeled APPLICATIONS. You grab one after paying and make your way to the window seat you normally occupy. 

Placing your bag and the other things in your hands onto the table, you finally get a good look at the actual application you had picked up. It’s pretty standard, asking for prior experience, a food card requirement and the likes. You don’t hesitate to fill it out, a summer job was just what you had been looking for since your semester was coming to a close and you had absolutely no intentions of taking any classes until the fall came around again. 

Half a week in you could tell your job at the bakery was going to be nothing short of interesting. The old lady who ran the bakery, Ping (though that was no mystery since the shop was called Ping’s Pastries), was for lack of a better word quizzical, she had a very particular way of running her shop and was insistent on being the one to bake every single day. Her pink-haired granddaughter, Yanfei, was a normal employee and the only other one allowed to aid in the mornings with the daily bake. If you didn't know them any better you would have assumed they were using magic, but it probably just boiled down to a secret family recipe.

The coffee shop on the other hand was a whole other handful and a half of crazy. It was one of the more popular chain coffee shops throughout Teyvat, simply entitled Harbinger - though what it was the harbinger of was unknown, it seemed only right to think that it was coffee. How it had become meshed together with a local bakery was beyond your knowledge, but Ping had made certain remarks about her friend that had caused it to happen, always hoping he would drop by for tea. 

The manager for this particular shop happened to be the very same ginger you took an interest in when you first started populating the conjoined shops. Ajax, as you had come to know, was much more energetic than you had imagined him to be. The whole personality you had envisioned of him being a quiet and shy next-door boy was immediately stomped upon when he dramatically grabbed your hand and introduced himself, placing a chaste kiss to the back of your ensnared appendage. 

His co-manager, Nadia, smacked him and then proceeded to pull him by the neck strap of his black work apron, demanding he apologize for intruding in your space. The whole interaction was more than comical and left you with a chuckle even in the early morning. 

There were a few more that worked under the coffee shop's roof, but never felt the need to introduce themselves, though they were still polite and exchanged smiles whenever you had the chance to briefly interact. 

It was sure to be quite an eventful summer within these walls and somehow you were looking forward to it. 

You take it back, you did not like waking up before the sun in order to go open shop. It didn’t help being partnered with the coffee shop since it demanded being open at 5:00 AM, meaning the bakery also had to open at the same time. You were needed in the morning since Ping was older and Yanfei had early classes most mornings. She was very earnest in her pursuit of finishing law school and willingly took any classes she could, whenever she could.

You’re just a minute or so early, but still it’s too early for you to be fully awake. After grabbing your apron and discarding your personal items you drag your feet to do your morning duties. Yanfei had previously helped when showing you the ropes, but now she didn’t usually show until the afternoon so Ping could go home in the early afternoon. You take down chairs off the tables they had been placed on the prior night, stock the display shelf with the freshly baked assorted goods, and rewrite the daily special on the blackboard menu.

It’s about 15 minutes until opening and Ajax is just now coming in, but to be fair there wasn’t much he had to get ready for the coffee shop to open. He makes his presence known with a chirpy ‘good morning’ directed at everyone within the walls of the shops. How he had so much energy at all times, and even now at just before dawn, was far above your head. Though whatever he took or did was working and you needed some, desperately.

Like he read your mind, Ajax pops up behind you with a hot cup in hand and a beaming smile that’s too bright for the darkness that still lurks outside. You look at him questioning his intent, you had watched him put salt in Nadia’s coffee just yesterday so who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to you? He says nothing, just pushing it in your direction as if it made it more enticing.

You take a cautious sip, never breaking eye contact with him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you find that this is what you would have ordered when you came into study.

“That’s what you usually get right? When you used to come I noticed that this,” Ajax motions to the cup, “was what you would get. I think it’s one of my favorites to make so I always would look forward to when you came in during my shifts.”

He begins to walk back over to his allotted side of the building, but not before flashing you another smile and telling you to check the side of the cup. In his handwriting, which was something akin to chicken scratch, was your name and just to the right was a note: “When I came in this morning I thought that it must have been morning already since it was so hot, turns out it was just you.” There’s a sloppily drawn winking emoticon at the end of the message but it gives it a certain boyish charm unique to Ajax.

Heat rises to your cheeks involuntarily at the cheesy attempt of Ajax’s flirting, even stupid it’s somewhat endearing. There’s some semblance of a smile on your face as you continue to sip on your beverage.

He’s absolutely seething. Just across the 7 foot gap of the counters is you and some blond kid attempting to flirt with you. He’s talking animatedly, waving his hands around and nodding. You laugh in tandem with the boy and his blood just boils.

Ajax feels as if he could punch through the wall right now if he wanted to, but he’ll have to settle with glaring holes into the customer at your counter.

Nadia laughs from behind him and he turns he sharp glare onto her. “What?” he hissed out, much like an angry cat.

She laughs again, not even trying to cover her amusement at the situation at hand. “You’re so obvious that it’s painful, but I take joy in your discomfort.”

His expression turns into one of confusion quickly, grumpily demanding answers, ”Obvious? What’s obvious?”

Nadia laughs once more, “Oh archons, you’re jealous lover boy. I can spell it out if you want, J-E-A-“

He doesn’t cut her off, but rather tunes her out to see how your situation is faring. Finding that the boy that was previously occupying your interest is now gone, he takes it upon himself to fill that void. Ajax slots himself right at your hip, slinging an arm over your shoulder before starting to interrogate you. “So, who was that? The two of you seemed to have an interesting conversation.” His tone is sugary-sweet and utterly fake, it’s not too hard for you to pick up on it especially after seeing his glare just moments ago.

You raise your eyebrows, giving him a look that he decides to not decipher, “That was Albedo, I had a science class with him that he helped me pass a while ago. He was just telling me about his new thesis paper he was starting on before he went to go meet with his boyfriend.”

You point out to the front window where there’s indeed a tall blue-haired man leaning down to kiss the ‘Albedo’ that had been, apparently not, flirting with you. He looks back to you only to give a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh.

“Go back to work, Ajax. You’ve got a bit of a line there.” He follows your line of sight to find that there are indeed a few people in line, waiting for him to get back behind the register. You laugh as he scrambles over back to his spot, apologizing to the girl at the front of the line with his signature smile.

Ajax knows he should be helping you clean, but he’s much too enchanted just watching you. It’s a menial task that has no superficial meaning, but it captures his attention nonetheless. You move around the tables elegantly and he can hear you faintly humming to the bubblegum pop song that plays over the speakers.

His body moves on its own and he ends up right beside you. “May I have this dance?” He bows, offering up his hand in an incredulously cheesy way, but that was only typical of him.

You take his hand and instantly he’s bringing you close and attempting to waltz with you. One of his hands is intertwined with your own while the other drapes along your hip, your body heat mixing with his own due to the closeness. He decides to pretend that he can’t see your obviously flustered state and gives you a close-eyed smile.

The music doesn’t match the pace he’s trying to set and it’s more of a sway and step than a waltz, but he’s content with it as long as you are too. He finds himself unable to look anywhere but your eyes, they gleam in the low light of the seating area reflecting his own azure eyes along with all the emotions you’re trying to keep in.

The song comes to an end and there’s a slight lull in both your movements. Reluctantly, at least he hopes you’re reluctant, you move apart from each other though he still hovers next to you.

Your silence isn’t awkward, but he still feels the need to fill it. Ajax’s mind goes through all the things he wants to say to you, like how good you look right now, how much he wants to kiss you, how you give him hundreds of butterflies in his stomach every time he sees you.

Unfortunately it seems he takes too long, because you’ve taken up the spray bottle and rag once again to finish your cleaning. “Thanks for the dance ’jax, it was fun!”

There’s a brief flicker of disappointment but he masks it quickly. “Let me finish this, you can clock out for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

You give him a hug in gratitude for his offer and he swears his heart rate must be through the roof. He can’t even move after you’ve left, he’s frozen in place yet there’s a fire burning on his cheeks.

#tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x gn!reader #childe #tartaglia #[ lee's writing ] #[ + ] genshin impact #! tartaglia

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

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

Word count: 21k

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

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

Rating: Mature.

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

Prelude.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where it begins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're an idiot."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't do this."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you thinking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You still are a star."

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

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

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

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

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

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

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

"This is..."

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

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

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

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

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

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

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

"How?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh come on! Just try it."

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

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

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

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

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

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

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

"That's it. Feel the music!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

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

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

"Now, open."

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

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

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

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

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

"Jungkook, this place is—"

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

"How did you find this place?"

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

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

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

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

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

"The sunflowers?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Do what?"

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

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

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

"Did not!"

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

"Shut up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jungkook stop."

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

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

"Just pretend I'm not here."

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

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

"Jungkook--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pale. "M-me?"

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

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

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

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

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I...I can't."

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

"No! God no."

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

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

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

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

Where things change.

3 years later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not now. Later."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

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

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

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

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

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

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

"Eager?" You smirk.

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

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

"Your wish is my command."

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

"I love you, y'know."

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

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

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

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

"As I'll ever be."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

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

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

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

"What the heck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confident, strong, successful.

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

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

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

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

"Y/N, I found him."

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

"He's not coming."

"What?"

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

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

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

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

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

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

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

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

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

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I...I can't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Show starting in 5...

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

4...

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

3...

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

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

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

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

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

Run. Run. Run.

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

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

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

I believe in you.

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

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

Taehyung.

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

You can do this.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey! Be careful!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

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

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For mom."

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

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he's late. Again.

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

"Y/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can't hide the way your face drops.

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

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

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

"Pasta."

"Right."

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

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

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

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

"Should I be worried?"

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

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

#bts #happy jk day #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #btswriterscollective #btsguild #kwordsmiths #bangtanarmynet #thebtstown #my writing #fic: wywg

[sideblog-666-thousand]

A long bitch of an interview with Euronymous, from Orcustus zine in early ‘92.

What is Orcustus? Orcustus was an early 90’s black metal ‘zine run by none other than Bård “Faust*” Eithun— murderous pretty-boy, and o.g Euronymous simp. I think he might have also played drums in a band called Emperor... but I’m not sure! Its full name is actually “Orcustus— The Shadow of The Golden Fire”, and no, I’m not making this up.

This particular issue here opens up with a quote from a short story called ‘The Doom That Came To Thomas Parkes*’.

Assuming the reader hasn’t read the story, Faust explains that the quote is in reference to what happened to the titular ‘Thomas Parkes’ when he tried to raise spirits. Faust then admits that he’s unsure of his own ability to ‘raise spirits’, but says he hopes that he’ll raise some fists in agreement that there’s something wrong with the underground scene. Ironically (you’ll see why this is ironic very soon), he doesn’t like that certain bands, namely Entombed, are selling so many copies of their LPs.

After a brief diatribe on just that, he goes on to explain that he was in a rush to get this mag out because of problems with the printer. Then, he tells anyone who doesn’t like the fact that this ‘zine only features black metal that they can fuck off, with three exclamation points.

Finally, we get to the end of the opening page, where Faust pulls what can only be called an early form of the Twitter exposed thread. It reads as follows, with absolutely no changes to the text:

“I would suggest you to not do any business with that sucker Evil Ludo from France. He have riped me and several others off, by not return what we ordered. I suppose he’s a medical sensation, as I didn’t know it was physical or psychical possible to live without a brain”

Why am I telling you all of this, when this is only meant to be a transcript of an interview with Euronymous, you may be asking? Because I find it funny, that’s why.

Anyhow, the Euronymous here acts and feels very differently from the Euronymous of the last interview I posted. However, I hope you’ll still enjoy it, and I hope you’re able to appreciate the tiny glimpses of humanity talking to a close friend allowed him, even though they both behave like complete asses. Even though it’s hard to sympathize with him at points.

Like last time, any (sparse) commentary will be between (parenthesis) and in bold. Without further ado, let’s get into it.

.

F: Well, how in hell shall one be able to come up with an intro worthy enough for this band? The words I wanna describe Mayhem’s music with, is not yet created, and it won’t be created either, because no one has really experienced the real darkness and pure brutality with lays behind Mayhem’s hellish sound, but I suppose you all are familiar with this band anyway. Well, in the first place, I hadn’t really thought to enclose this band in this issue, because if we look away from rereleases of old demos (“Pure Fucking Armageddon”) and live tapes, it’s a pretty long time since their last release (in ‘87 that was). I thought I rather should interview them when they released their forthcoming album “Dee Mysteriis Dom Sathanas”, but due to the circumstances, I realised the time was right for an interview now. I won’t bother you with any history shit, but I could tell a bit about what has happened last year. You all know that their vocalist Dead comited suicude in April ‘91, that was a bigg loss for the underground, and I suppose I don’t need to say that this mag is dedicated to the memory of that infernal man. Anyway, Dead was replaced by Cultòcùlus (back then called Occultus), but due to different problems within the band, he left the band in January ‘92, but let’s not say more about that, as Euronymous didn’t want me to say anything about it at all (but Euronymous, you must admit that it has sounded pretty artificial if I hadn’t mentioned it at all). So now, the band consists of Hellhammer (drums) and Euronymous (guitar (and probably bass too)). I know the singer of Tormentor (rip) from Hungary (Esihar Attila) is interested in singing on the album, and also even moving to Norway, so it seems like Mayhem got some sort of predilection to foreign vocalists, but this Hungarian guy happend to be a good one as well, so never mind that. But I don’t think this is official, so don’t tell anyone you read it here, ok? Well then, it’s an honour for me to dedicate the next following pages to one of today’s most legendary and infamous bands......... THE TRUE MAYHEM!!!!!!!

F: First of all Euronymous, I know you and Dead live/lived totally for the old black metal attitude. Is your hate now total to young and trendy bands after Dead’s suicide?

Euro: YES, we have declared WAR. Dead died because the trend people have destroyed everything from the old black metal/death metal scene, today “death” metal is something normal, accepted and FUNNY (argh) and we HATE it. It used to be spikes, nites, chains, leather and black clothes, and this was the only thing Dead lived for as he hated this world and everything which lives on it. If we had the economic possibility to do it, we should meet up at concerts and beat up ALL trend people ALL the time untill they would be too scared to go to concerts at all, now we need to suck their money instead. It’s impossible to stop the trend no matter how much we want, we have to do the best out of it and sell lots of trend shit to them. (I don’t need to tell you that that’s totally not why Dead killed himself, right?)

F: In the spring of ‘91 you started up a shop in Oslo which sells all sorts of music within metal. Is there anything you can tell us about the shop (ideas? plans?)?

Euro: Well, the original idea was to make a specialist shop for metal in general, but that’s a long time ago. Normal metal isn’t very popular anymore, all the children are listening to “death” metal now, I’d rather be selling Judas Priest than Napalm Death, but at least now we can be specialized within “death” metal and make a shop where all the trend people know that they will find all the trend music, this will help us earning money so that we can order more EVIL records to the evil people. But no matter how shitty music we have to sell, we’ll make a BLACK METAL look on the shop, we’ve had a couple of “actions” in churches lately, and the shop is going to look like a black church in the future. We’ve also thought about having total darkness inside, so that would would have to carry torches to be able to see the records.

F: Well, how is the situation all in all in the Mayhem camp right now?

Euro: Difficult as usual, but we’re closer than ever to record the Mayhem lp. Almost all the material is completed, then I and Hellhammer will record the whole thing with 3 guitars, 2 basses and so on. It will be very massive. Who’s to sing on the lp is not yet decided, we’ll wait and see what happens. We have several people who can do the job very well.

F: As Metalion of Slayer mag* said: “it seems like you at certain times lives on the edge of starvation”. Have you ever been on the thought to just give up the whole band and become a normal 9 to 5 person, or is this a completely stupid question to ask?

Euro: It has been very hard at times, but I am not a normal person anyway so it would just not be possible to do that. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why things are as they are (this answer will be long) (that’s okay for me/Ed). The reason why we don’t have any money, is because of hardcore. We have for too long been following the “underground” rules, which say that you must hate money, you must not think you are anything, you must be open-minded, you might have a lot of attitudes and so on. Extremely stupid. But the situation has been that if you don’t follow these rules which are made by hardcore pigs, you are not accepted as a death metal or black metal band! Then you MUST be signed by some big label to be able to make some money, and we’ve never wanted to do that. Then you would anyway be labelled as “commercial” by the HC pigs. This has caused that after 8 years, we are still as broke as ever, while the HC pigs themselves are controlling all labels, and they sign only the bands which fit into their own idiotic world, that means “death” metal bands with society lyrics and jogging suits, and this is what the people see when they grow up. They don’t see any EVIL bands with spikes, as we did. Well, I’m tired about being broke, just to be “underground”. I’m tired of not having money to eat for just because tons of people will call you a “rip-off” if you don’t write 20 letters each day. It’s time to say fuck off to the whole system, which is built to strangle the evil bands in the birth. We must start taking inspirations from the ancient ones, from Venom and their likes. They did their thing BIG, and they never had to think about any idiotic underground rules. They did it big and so must we, but it must never become a trend, it must become a CULT. This is why we have started on a brand new policy with the band and the record label. It’s about time that someone makes a label for black metal and other grim music, and STRIKE BACK. There is NO reason why DSP shouldn’t be as big as Peaceville or Nuclear Blast, if we can just get the business on its feet again and get good distribution. That’s the only way to compete with the HC labels. It’s about time we start taking control over our own scene. We must spread the EVIL bands and pervert people’s souls.

F: What about the Norwegian scene then? Don’t you think that something is terribly wrong when it have gone so far that we have a christian “death metal” band here (Crush Evil)? Advices on how we should kill them?

Euro: First of all— the Norwegian scene is the BEST. There are a lot of GREAT bands (yet with no album out) and of course some shitty trend bands, but nothing as in Sweden. There you have 2-3 good bands out of 100, while here we have a few shit bands who hardly have made even a demo, while all the great bands will make records in the near future. Such as Darkthrone, Burzum, Immortal, Thorns (I’m flattered/ED*), Arcturus, Enslaved and newer bands like Malfeitor and others which I have not yet heard. BUT— when it comes to bands like Crush Evil, we must take serious action. It’s bad enough to have a couple of society bands, but a CHRISTIAN band is too much. But don’t worry, we have plans. They will not continue for a very long time.

F: And now over to something more humouristic....yes.... snuff movies. Who had been the perfect actor for a snuff movie, and why the hell aren’t they legalized? Don’t you think that every video-store should have its own section with snuff-movies?

Euro: Actually I think it’s great that movies like that are forbidden. If they were legal and easily accessible, all the small trend children would be watching them, and then it would not be something extreme anymore (I’m not sure if I agree with you here Euronymous. Snuff movies are usually too raw and brutal for the people with their “peace and life” infected minds. Remember the HC rules/ED) (shut the fuck up, Faust*) It’s just the same what happened to death metal— it became something everyone could buy in every store, something normal and accessible for everyone. All the mystic and evil atmosphere is GONE. I do not think snuff-movies are funny, I think they are DARK. I’ve seen people laugh at them, but that’s probably because they will not be mentally able to take the PAIN and EVIL on over themselves. That is the best way to watch such a movie, to try to FEEL the actual pain of the victims. It becomes much more gruesome then, and that’s great. One must be alone in the darkness and suffer with the victims, if you watch it with other people, they will often talk, laugh and so on, and then you get more distanced from it, it’s not supposed to be funny (death to fun), it’s much better when it’s depressive.

F: Through the years you have been talking about releasing bands like Samael, Rotting Christ, Master’s Hammer, Tormentor, Matricide, Imperator, Massacre etc. on Deathlike Silence Prod., but now some of these bands have released lp’s on labels which only have money in their eyes and know that black metal sells. Doesn’t that frustrate you, and don’t you feel it like the time is running out for you?

Euro: It’s a bit frustrating, but it is also a result of trying to be “underground” which is a suicide policy. Anyway, the main thing is that these evil records get released at all, and not who’s releasing them. We will probably release a record with Tormentor, they’re split up, but they still want to make their Anno Domini demo on vinyl, and we’ll try to fix it within the summer. The time is not running out, because there are a lot of really evil bands around. — most of the Norwegian bands which other labels haven’t heard about. Burzum is ten times better than all the bands on Earache together, and so are Thorns and Arcturus. So there is no problem, really. As for bands like Rotting Christ and Master’s Hammer, we might do something in the future instead. I’ve never been talking with Samael about any deal, but I wish I had as their album is FUCKING GREAT.

F: Almost all bands in the underground today says that they think they got their own style and originality, but the fact is that 95% of the bands sounds totally the same. What is an original death metal band today?

Euro: There exists no death metal bands today. There are only a handful of (mostly great) bands (in case someone hadn’t got it right— black metal has nothing to do with the music itself, both Blasphemy and Mercyful Fate are black metal. It’s the LYRICS, and they must be SATANIC. If not, it is NOT black metal) and what we choose to call LIFE METAL bands. Take a band like Therion. Their music is quite ok, it’s actually one of the best Swedish bands (even though that doesn’t say much) but their lyrics STINK. They are about society and pollution, what the fuck has that got to do with DEATH? If a band cultivates and worships death, then it’s death metal, no matter what KIND of metal it is. If a band cultivates and worships Satan, it’s black metal. And by saying “cultivates death”, I don’t think about thinking it’s funny, or being into gore, I’m thinking about being able to KILL just because they HATE LIFE. it’s people who enjoy to see wars because a lot of people get killed. How many bands think that way? Not many. I can’t think of one.

F: You’re maybe not the most active band when it comes to gigs, but at least you’ve managed to tour Germany and Turkey. What can you tell us from the tour, and is there any new gigs planed?

Euro: That tour was a big mess, we’ll NEVER take the train again! We lost quite some money, but still it was great to get to East-Germany and Turkey. The memories of the tour consist mostly of the starvation and idiotic custom officers, but still I wouldn’t like to have missed the opportunity. We don’t have any concrete plans, we’ll see happens in the future. We don’t like to play for a lot of trendies in jogging suits, so we prefer to leave it be.

F: What do you think of the fact that death metal has been on MTV?

Euro: It sucks. But it isn’t death metal anyway, so....

F: I know that you will soon release the debut album of Abruptum on DSP, so, what can you tell us about it?

Euro: It’s EVIL. It’s PURE EVIL, they were torturing each other in studio DURING the recording and you can HEAR on the music how they SUFFER. It will be the most demented record EVER, and it’s NOT for normal people. This is music which NEVER can become trendy, because normal people won’t be able to understand it. And that’s great. The price for the album it’ll be the same as for the BURZUM lp, which should be somewhere else in this ‘zine*. It’s called “Obscuriratem Advoco Amplèctere Me”, and stay away from it if you don’t like pure DARKNESS.

F: Don’t you think that people in the underground should respect others ideas and views more? I mean, it’s not accepted to spread unpopular thoughts. It seems like there is some sort of guardians of morality and most people keep in mind not to say or do anything which is not accepted by the public.

Euro: I don’t think people should respect each other. I don’t want to see trend people respecting me, I want them to HATE and FEAR. If people don’t accept our ideas as their own, they can fuck off because then they belong to a musical scene which has NOTHING to do with ours. They could just as well be Madonna fans. There is an ABYSS between us and the rest. Remember— one of the HC rules is that you must be open-minded (except for themselves), so we must be careful and avoid being open-minded ourselves. The HC pigs have correctly made themselves guardians of morality, but we must kick them in the face and become guardians of anti-morality.

F: You say you want your riffs to have a dark mood and really sound evil, but what if you came up with a riff which just sounded good, but not evil. Would you use it then?

Euro: Well, if a riff sounds good to me, it mostly means that it sounds evil too. At least when I make the music myself. Haven’t really thought about this about this before.

F: Do you think you’ve been playing this sort of music today if it weren’t for those old bands like Mercyful Fate, Venom and Hellhammer?

Euro: It’s impossible to say. Venom and the other ancient ones have been fundamental influences on Mayhem, and also the direct reason of the band’s existence. We like to think that if they hadn’t started up this, we would have, but who knows? Doesn’t really matter anyway, we hail ancient Venom as the CREATORS.

F: Ok, no more questions at the moment. End the interview in what way you want......

Euro: Perhaps it should be mentioned that well re-release the MAYHEM mini-lp “Deathcrush” VERY soon. We also have t-shirts available now. People should write for prices on things. Be EVIL, not open-minded.

Ok, I suppose some of you already know that Euronymous started up a shop in Oslo in the spring of ‘91. The shop is called “HELVETE” (which is Norwegian and means “HELL”) and are specialized within underground stuff and death metal in general (though he also have some other styles of music there). As he said in the MAYHEM interview, the shop really have a black metal look, so if you ever visit Oslo, I really recommend you to visit “HELVETE” as well. I think it’s good that people take the initiative to start up with such things, because if everyone were just passive, we would all get ruined by poser-shops like Hot Records where they take 140 NKR for the Earache albums (which you in “HELVETE” can get a CD for the same price). Euronymous also sells though mail, so write and ask for a list or something: HELVETE, Schweigaardsgt. 56, 0656 Oslo. NORWAY.”

That’s all! :)

And now for the things I put in asterisks, in order of their appearances.

*If for some reason you actually don’t know who Faust is, he was the drummer on the Emperor LP and “In The Nightside Eclipse” but you might also know him from other great hits such as “threatening to kill Mortiis from prison whilst simultaneously attempting to plead murder of the secondth degree”, “I’m glad the people Euronymous ripped off won’t get their money back because he’s dead hA hA!”, “I got fourteen years for murder because I’m a socially inept virgin— oops” and “bad... bad lyrics who’s quality somehow don’t improve with the passing of time”. All jokes are done in good humour— if it seems like I dislike him, it’s not that at all. I just find him easy to make fun of.

Here is another short bio, this one less sarcastic: he was born in Trondheim, lived around Kvikne, and Lillehammer, worked at Helvete, was a close friend of Euro’s, and has his sun in Taurus.

He also beefed with Glen Benton for dissing the Party City cape (Note: of course I’m being extremely reductive) he and Euronymous seemed to share. Here are a few pictures of Faust:

Here is the infamous Party City cape:

*This was surprisingly hard to find. I think he read it in a mag or something. Here’s a link to where you can find it: https://issuu.com/davidgamble/docs/paranormal37/3 page 64-65.

*Slayer mag was another zine, this one by a bloke named Metalion, who was Euro’s best friend.

*Faust (who felt the strange need to make a distinction between himself, the editor, and himself, the interviewer) also played in Thorns (well, Stigma Diabolicum), under the hilarious moniker: Fetophagia✨

*He’s being a fucking idiot, what was I supposed to say? It should be noted that Faust actually went down for the snuff films too.....

*In case you’re interested, for whatever reason, the prices for the Burzum LP were as follows:

Norge— 130 NKR

Norden— 100 K

Finland— 60 FN

Island— 1000 IK

Europe— 15$

Outside Europe,

Overseas— 15 $

Air— 22$

East Europe— 10$

By ‘norden’ he presumably meant ‘northern Norway’, and “Island” is the Norwegian word for Iceland. Notice the way he doesn’t include Sweden! (Edit: Originally I thought he didn’t include Finland because there was a black metal war with them as well, but it seems as though that feud came a bit later or had already passed)

That’s all, for real this time!

Legal disclaimer: I am absolutely, in no way shape or form, claiming that the stupid cape you see them wearing is literally from Party City. From my limited research, I’ve gathered that the Party City chain hasn’t yet opened its doors in the beautiful and glorious country we know as Norway— Norge. However, I am saying that the cheap, dinky piece of cloth covering their backs and shoulders are of the same kind of shitty quality you’d expect from a Party City Count Dracula costume and that maybe Glen had a point about how stupid Euronymous (and Faust) must’ve looked.......

#black metal #euronymous #mayhem #emperor #euronymous interview #interview #Faust #Orcustus zine #true norwegian black metal #my transcript #Bard Faust #look at these fucking dorks

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Not The One For You

Rodrick x Reader

Warning - Smut (don’t be too hard on it )

Summary - Rodrick’s parents don’t like you so you are having dinner with them to change their mind

Rodrick Heffley wasn't the brightest kid. It was pretty much universally known. So when you told your friends that you were dating the wannabe rock star. It's not like you two were that different. You liked the same music, both had an alternative style, both of you were older siblings, had families who only saw reasons to be disappointed in you. On the outside you two getting together seemed to make a lot a sense. However there were a lot of differences that your friends decided to focus on. Specifically that you were actually really smart and wanted a life that was normal. Well halfway normal. You were excited to keep the alt style but you wanted an actual job. Granted you were trying to be a mortician but still. You wanted the job, the house, the family and well Rodrick wanted the fame and the glory of being a musician.

"You guys are acting like me dating him now means I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him," You point out, "we are 17.... the only thing we know is that we like each other right now."

"Yeah but it's Rodrick," One of them points out, "he's incapable of taking care of himself. This is gonna be your life."

"Exactly! I mean what if you do end up getting like married?"

"Then I handle it then," You answer, "you are looking way too deep into this. We are just dating."

"Babe you ready?" Rodrick calls over.  You look back to see him a little bit down the hall from the circle of girls gathered around my locker.

"Of course Rod," You say as you shut the locker leaving your friends behind as you meet your boyfriend. He drapes his arm around you with a big smirk. Moving to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. My friends weren't the only ones who have problems with us. Rodrick's parents also found a lot to not like in our relationship. First of all Rodrick's mother is well- controlling to say the least. She saw another person in his life dressed in chains and all black, so she decided that I was just like the other people he hangs around with. Ignoring all the parts about me that aren't just my style. And whatever feelings about me his dad had all turned negative when Rodrick forgot to lock his bedroom door and his mom walked in.

"How was your day beautiful?" he asks as we head out to his van.

"It was slow- my calc teacher was riding my ass," You tell him, "deadass he wouldn't leave me alone. He sent me to the office for my outfit and they sent me back saying that it wasn't agaisnt dress code- because it isn't. And this mother fucker looks me dead in the eye and says- 'well if you didn't dress like a hooker I'd feel comfortable teaching you' which is like first off what the fuck."

"Thats gross- did you report him to the office?" Rodrick asks, "do I need to kick his ass?"

"I reported him and I called my mom- who by the way apparently is still on the phone with the principal," You say chuckling lightly, "and no you don't have to kick his ass- mostly because if you did.... you wouldn't win."

"Oh I totally could," He says, "I'm strong as hell."

"uH Rodrick babe I love you but he's the football coach and weighs 300 pounds," You say trying to explain it to him, "you'd get crushed. I still love you tho."

"I'm upset- I could kick his ass.... especially if he's being gross to you," Rodrick says. You nod unconvinced.

"How was your day?" You ask him.

"Boring - however I appreciated the pickup lines during history," He says, "it was cute..."

"I was gonna send my tittes but then I remembered your mom still reads your messages," You say smirking.

"Oh I missed out," He says, "think we can make a detour for a quicky in the car?"

"Your mom wants us there early," You remind him, "plus she's still on the fence about us being alone since she caught us in your room." He rolls his eyes lightly as we climb into his van.

"Yeah but let's say we make a detour to the store hookup in the back of the van and then grab some flowers or something for her to make it seem like we stopped for her," Rodrick suggests, "or maybe like a cake or something. To ya know show the peace..."

"Fine but you'd have to be quick," You tell him, "and you better tell me that your van is clean back there. Last time I got pizza in my hair."

"Clean... no it's not clean," He says, "but I brought a blanket and we can like spread it over the back... It'll be  fine..."

"Fine but the second I touch rotting food it's over," You say firmly. He smirks as he changes the course towards the store just up the street. He makes sure to get in the back line of the parking spots taking the furthest one from the store. He climbs in the back first shoving the trash around the back. The finally throws the blanket down across the back.

"Just like imagine rose petals and a bed and shit," He says. It's quite literally the opposite of the romance that I'd prefer but he's a giant punk dumbass so you have no idea why you would of thought this would be any different.  He sits down and looks at you with a goofy smile. "Malady would you like to join me?" You chuckle before climbing back to join him. The second you get back there he already starts yanking off his shirt. Way too excitedly for his own good. You smile as you move to pull off your layers. Finally as you both get to your underwear he looks at you excitedly. "You're so hot."

"Awe thanks cutie," You say as you climb on his lap moving to meet his lips. His hands fall to your waist. Holding on as you take full control of the situation. You can feel the excitement coursing through him. You chuckle lightly. You move to pull his member free from his boxers. The moving your own underwear to sink down onto his member. He lets out a loud moan as I set the slow pace.

"Mmm you're amazing," He says softly. You chuckle as you quicken the pace. Soft moans filling the car. You can tell you both are moving way more than you thought you would. Anyone on the outside would know automatically what was happening. All you can hope for is no one relaying the information back to Rodrick's mother. "Uhh baby," He moans loudly. You move pulling him into a deep kiss. Feeling the moans through the kiss. You can tell he's not gonna last much longer. You move laying back allowing him to take control. He smirks widely and starts at his assault. The moans filling the van. Echoing off the metal walls. Finally he pulls out. Spilling his load on your legs. "Did you?"

"No not yet," You say slightly annoyed at him finishing before you. He nods pulling your legs on his shoulders. Pulling you towards him. He latches his mouth on your clit trying his best to get you off. He's sloppy. But even the sloppiest technique when your this close could send you way over the edge. Your hand moves over your mouth as you come upon. Stifling the loud moans as you cum. He doesn't stop. He keeps going. Your body feels so good you could scream. He pulls away after a minute catching his breath.  "Come here," You demand. He complies clearly excited to see you like this. You move getting on your hands and knees. He looks like he's about to scream at the sight. He moves pushing himself in with out warning. Pounding into you as fast as he could.

"Mmmm I love you so much," He groans.

"I love you too Rod but please go faster," You moan. He complies. The van was filled with a pure moaning mess. "Oh Rod I'm gonna cum again." You can barely finish the words as you hit your second orgasm. He pulls out as you simply lay down on the blanket.

"Holy fuck," He says as he lays down beside you.

"Fuck Rodrick," You say softly, "we have to go see your parents after this."

"Yeah I guess we kinda went a little too hard," He says softly, "and we still have to actually get flowers or something."

"Ughh think you can manage that?" You ask, "I'm gonna go get cleaned up."

"Yeah what kind?" He asks.

"I don't care get something thats pretty but not a million dollars," You say as you sit up pulling your underwear back on. He nods as he follows suit in pulling on his own clothes. Once you both are fully dressed you climb out of the van. He takes your hand genteelly.

"You're beautiful you know that," He says smiling at you. You move pecking his cheek.

"Thanks Rod."

Once inside the store the two of you split up. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Fixing you makeup and hair. Trying to make the whole thing less obvious. You meet him back at the entrance. He's holding two sets of flowers.

"Rodrick I know you're bad at math but I know you can at least count to thirty," You say chuckling.

"Actually I got these daisies for my mom," He says, "and these roses are for you." He hands the bouquet over to you. You take them with a big grateful smile. Moving in to pull him into a quick kiss. As you pull back he moves draping his arm around your shoulders. "Come on beautiful." As you both make your way to his van you can't help but smile. Sure he's not the most romantic boyfriend- he did just fuck you in the back of his disgusting van and instead of cleaning it to do so he threw a blanket over rotting food and old condoms. But the small gestures like the roses and the compliments. Really just prove that he's not as bad of a boyfriend as everyone thinks he is.

It doesn't take us long for you guys to reach his house. He holds your hand as he leads you both into the house.

"Rodrick is that you?" His mom calls.

"Yeah mom!" Rodrick yells back. His mom moves from the kitchen over to the doorway. She looks over us.

"Rodrick it is a 5 minute drive from the school to the house why did it take you almost an hour?" She asks him clearly not happy with you both. You smile nervously as you hand her the flowers. This dinner was my chance to fix the fact his parents didn't like me. And getting railed by their son right before this interaction was very much hurting my chances of this going well.

"We had to go to my mom's shop real quick then we picked up these flowers," You tell her, "sorry my fault. My mom wanted me to bring her a coffee." Her expression softens.

"Awe well thank you," She says, "how was your day Y/n?"

"Oh it was good," You tell her, "very productive."

"That's good! Here come with me I want you to taste this sauce for the pasta," She says brightly, "it's a new recipe." She starts moving off to the kitchen. Rodrick gives you a slightly impressed look before leading you both into the kitchen.

The rest of the dinner actually goes really well. Rodrick's mother despite her reserves after catching you and Rodrick seems to finally have forgiven you. Letting go of the stupid blame she had for you "corrupting her son" or whatever garbage she went on about.

"I hope Rodrick is being a gentleman," Mrs. Heffley says to you.

"Oh he is," You tell her, "he got me roses today. And he's always opening doors for me. Making sure to sent me good morning texts. He's actually a really good boyfriend." He smiles at you. You tighten your grip on his hand. She looks pleased with his answer. Greg starts to make a snarky comment but his brother kicks him from under the table.  

"That's good, I'm proud of you Rodrick," His mother says. His father looks between you and his son. Not completely convinced his son would act like anything other than the slob he knows.

"We are talking about this Rodrick right?" His father asks.

"Yeah actually," You say, "I know it might be hard to believe- I didn't believe it at first."

"What's so hard to believe about it?" Rodrick asks, "she's my girl and I want to make her happy-" The sweet words ending in a loud burp. Both of his parents sigh loudly. You simply chuckle. He looks over to you with a big smile. Then moves pecking your forehead.

"Yeah she's perfect for you Rodrick," Greg says, "anyone who can handle that- you better keep her around."

"Can it nerd," Rodrick says harshly.

"So what are you planning to do after school?" Mrs. Heffley asks you.

"I'm planning to go to school and studying mortuary science," You explain, "Mortician's are a job that's always gonna be there... And it helps that my grandmothers a mortician and is hiring me on her staff when I meet the requirements to join." She nods along to your words.

"Oh so you want a real job," His father says, "hmm Rodrick you could try that some time."

"No thanks old man," Rodrick says, "I'd rather stick something that actually matters. Like music... Not that I think your ambitions don't matter Y/n."

"No I understand," You tell him, "you have your dream and I have mine." You look to his parents. "Real jobs are relative... society is changing and becoming things like musicians and influencers is a lot easier than it was before." His mother chuckles nervously. You know that they have this thing against Rodrick's music. However you also know you want to support your boyfriend way more than you want his parents to like you. "I believe that Rodrick will do great in his music career...."

"Awe thanks babe-"

"If he works for it," You continue, "the music industry is hard and you have to stand out. I'm sure he'll get there but it'll take a lot of work."

"That's well put," His father says.

"She's very insightful," Rodrick says, "right babe?" You chuckle lightly. His mother looks back to you.

"So where is this school your looking at?" She asks you, "is it local? Or are you going away?"

"Oh it's local actually," You explain, "the next town over really but it's like a 20 minute drive." She nods. You give her a soft smile. "It's just a small college. I told Rodrick to check it out. They have a music production course which is apparently really nice."

"I've looked into it," Rodrick says, "and I don't know if school is for me... Considering I barely go when it's free I don't know if I want to pay to skip school all the time."

"You wouldn't be paying for all of it," His dad says, "if you actually go I might help... but you'd have to stay enrolled." Rodrick scoffs.

"School doesn't have to be for you Rod," You say to him, "but it's worth a look ya know. Maybe even a tour. You don't have to decide right now."

"Fine I'll tour it," He says, "we can tour together."

"Did she just get Rodrick to agree to tour a college?" His father asks in disbelief, "this isn't real?"

"Shhh don't say anything he might change his mind," His mother says quietly. Rodrick stabs at his pasta. He takes his last bite and then looks to his parents.

"I'm gonna drive her home," Rodrick says, "we'll probably stop to get something sweet on the way. That good?"

"Yeah of course," His mom says, "it was lovely seeing you Y/n."

"You as well Mrs. and Mr. Heffley, I hope I see you again soon," You say to them.

"Oh well how about you come to Grandpa Heffley's birthday party," Mrs. Heffley offers, "it'll be here and I'm sure the family would love to meet you... And you and Rodrick have been dating for a little bit now so I'm sure they'd love to see more than just the pictures you and Rodrick post online."

"Is that okay with you Rodrick?" You ask him.

"Sure it'll make it a lot less boring," Rodrick says, "can we head out now?"

"Yes Rodrick," His mother says clearly not loving his attitude. You wave to them as you stand. Rodrick leads you both out to his van.

"You sure that it's okay?" You ask, "If you don't want to then I don't have to go."

"It's literally fine," He says as you both get into his van, "honestly if you're there I'll actually have someone who likes me there." He gives you a smile. "I'd love it if you'd go."

"Then I'll go," You tell him, "it's nice that your parents seem to like me again."

"Yeah now I can have you over without my mom making us sit downstairs," Rodrick says, "and I don't have to hear the whole- 'are you sure about y/n?' speeches now." You chuckles.

"That's good," You say, "I love how your parents didn't like me but my mom adores you."

"Oh yeah I know," He says, "not the way I pictured that going honestly. I was afraid your mom would hate me."

"No she loves you!" You exclaim, "she thinks it's good that I'm with someone who likes to have fun... something about how I don't do that enough. And my grandma thinks you're funny."

"You're grandpa doesn't like me," Rodrick points out.

"Yeah well he doesn't really like me either," You add, "he's against anything that's different. I mean he's still harassing my mom about having two kids out of wedlock so there wasn't any hope for you babe."

"Didn't he want you to have like a chasty belt?"

"No he bought me a purity ring," You correct, "I gave it back to him saying that I don't believe in waiting til marriage and he called his priest on me... Ooo if I wear that would your mom like me more?"

"I think after she caught us having sex a thing about being a forever virgin won't really mean much," He says, "even if its a religious thing." You shrug in response.

"I tried," You say, "so whats this sweet thing you want to get on the way to mine?"

"You," He says with a smirk, "your mom home?"

"Not for another hour," You say brightly.

"Good because I think I've still got more in me."

"You're a dog Rodrick."

"And you love it," He says with a smirk.

“I really do.”

#rodrick #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x reader #Rodrick Heffley x reader smut #x reader

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 9 Home? - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I promise I’m going to get to requests. Enjoy the chapter!

WARNING: implied child abuse? (Nothing happens but it can still be uncomfy)

The soft creak of the second story window was the only sound in your shared bedroom. Having been sent upstairs and denied a meal for the millionth time this week, you were desperate for anything to eat. It wasn’t like the orphanage was barely surviving, but honestly you think the caretaker had something out for you. Always picking on you, calling you names, and finding any excuse to punish you. All around known as the caretaker’s personal punching bag.

“Now I can see why you were dropped off here.” She would say, before taking the plate of food from in front of you and dumping it into the trash.

With your lips sealed shut, you trudged up the stairs, sad little eyes tearing up. Any back talk would result in something far worse. The wilts on your back still stung days after your punishment, an example and demonstration of the cruelness of life.

Like a rabid animal, you were willing to receive any kind of punishment just to quiet the pain in your stomach. Grateful for the bushes located underneath your second story window, you swung your legs over the ledge, preparing to jump. With a small humph, you landed softly on your feet. Leaves and small branches pricked at your thighs as you wobbled out of the bushes. You gripped the small pouch of coins in your pocket, running your fingers over the opening of the bag.

A childish dream that a few coins were your ticket to everywhere and anywhere. The city you lived in was labeled as UN-1889, which was far into its development to retain its old name. Unofficially called “Yun” by the locals, it also held the record of absolutely nothing exciting or entertaining. Crime was moderate, chain restaurants and shopping centers were the place of excitement and that was it. Vowing to leave and never come back, you made sure to keep that promise by collecting and stashing away any money you could get your hands on. In the end, the most you had in your possession was enough to buy half a ticket, and you were ready to blow it all off in a matter of minutes on something that will only last seconds.

You spotted the bright, blue neon lights of the only local diner in the area. Parents looking to adopt will do nothing but rave about this place. Hearing just how good the food sounded compared to the gruel you were forced to eat every day, it made your mouth water and your stomach do flips. Jogging up to the entrance, you quickly opened the door to the diner. Air condition hit your dirty, sweaty face, cooling you down instantly. Much to your surprise, there was not one patron in the diner. Leaning against the counter was a middle aged woman with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She stared at the TV in the corner, sighing deeply. As the door closed, your presence was made known.

One look was all it took for her to know everything about you.

“Oh great, another one.” She mumbled from where she stood. “What do you want?”

“Food. I’m hungry.” You replied annoyingly.

“Have any money?” She asked, standing up straight.

You dug into your pocket, grabbed the bag of coins and held it out to the waitress. Snatching it out of your hand, she emptied the contents onto the counter. Shifting through the coins lazily, she huffed.

“Kid, this isn’t even enough for a plate.” She poured the coins back into the bag, tossing it back at you. “Door’s over there.”

Too tired and weak to fight, you slumped your way out, disappointed and embarrassed.

“Hey wait!” You heard someone shouting. You turned around, seeing another woman popping out from the kitchen. Her soft, platinum blond curls bounced as she walked out to stop you from leaving. Ringlets of silver hung from her ears and wrists, clanking softly as she motioned you to come closer. “Are you from the orphanage down the street?”

You nodded vigorously.

“I know how she treats those babies over there. You come on over and get yourself something to eat.” She said, tapping on the counter.

“I don’t have enough for-“ you started. She waved her hand, her signal for no ands, if, or buts. As you pranced over, you heard the waitress groan.

“Lou, you can’t be serious.” She muttered.

Lou held her hand up. “I don’t like seeing children go hungry. It’s not right.”

“Pick whatever you like.” She smiled, handing over a menu to you. Everything looked so delicious and tempting. You only see people like this on TV. It seems so fake, portraying kindness in a sickening, sweet way. It was enough to hurt your teeth.

You watched in adoration as Lou passed you a basket of warm rolls, butter shimmering off the golden buns. Forget manners. You gobbled down the bread in minutes, hiccuping softly. You weren’t focused on trying to quiet your hiccups down, just to fill your empty stomach.

“My goodness, slow down.” Lou chuckled, placing a cup of water next to you. “What’s your name, baby?”

“It’s (Y/N).” You replied, mouth still full of bread.

“(Y/N). Now is that your actual name or was it given to you by that devil woman?”

“It’s my actual name. They tried to change it, but decided to keep it.” You said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Lou handed you a few napkins. “I swear that lady does not like anything or anyone. An all around horrible person.”

You nodded sadly, trying to dissipate the knowledge that you were probably going to receive the harshest punishment you have ever had in your short life when you came back “home”. As your stomach was dropping at the thought of your imminent demise, Lou slid your plate of food in front of you. Eating a basket of rolls wasn’t enough at all. This food looked better than anything you consumed at the orphanage.

While Lou and the waitress babbled and bickered, the static and switch of the TV in the corner was the only noise in the room. Eventually the waitress decided to settle on the local news. Expansion of some parts of the city, a deadly crash near the asteroid belt, and so on and so on. Suddenly, the screen flashed with the words BREAKING NEWS splayed on the screen.

The news reporter quickly tapped through her data pad, smiled and addressed the viewers.

“Good evening, we bring to you some breaking news. The criminal Kedo, who was wanted on both planets Earth and Ganymede for the murders of multiple people, has been caught right here in UN-1889.”

The reporter then drone on about his crimes, and how he left his trail. You chewed slowly, hanging onto every word. Crime was at a middle to low level, but you have never seen something as large as this.

“It has been reported by BIG SHOT, a new TV program broadcasted specially for bounty hunters in the solar system, that Kedo’s bounty had jumped from 500,000 woolong to over a million woolong.” Your eyes widened. To a small child, one million woolong was a whole lot more than what it actually was. You were probably never going to see that sort of money in your lifetime. All the possibilities of having that much money ran through your head. The first was getting the hell out of this city.

“We are informed that the courageous bounty hunter, or huntress, known as Lady Jo, caught Kedo red-handed in hiding right here in UN-1889.” The reporter stated.

The screen switched to live coverage at the police station, cameras flashing and reporters clamoring to get a closer look at the infamous criminal who was now being led into the building in handcuffs. His hair disheveled, eyes scanning his surroundings like crazy, fitting a perfect description of a crazed murderer. The cameras shifted their attention to Jo, standing proudly with her hand resting on her holster.

Intrigue and fascination filled you. You couldn’t help but watch in awe of her. Her auburn hair was curly and volumized, laying softly on her shoulders, eyes a striking green that shone like emeralds in the harsh lights of the TV crews. The waitress scoffed at her outfit, which consisted of a revealing button up white shirt, tucked into black leather pants, with a matching jacket. She was truly a sight to see.

“Can you believe that? She’s not a cowgirl, she’s a goddamn model.” She said.

Lou snorted. “You know, I used to have an outfit just like that.”

You smiled back, finishing your plate. Not wanting to take your eyes off the TV, the silverware clattered loudly onto the plate.

“I’ll tell you what, there is absolutely no honor in being a bounty hunter. They’re rude, selfish, and I hate every last one of them. Especially Lady what’s-her-name right here.” The waitress nagged, taking your empty plate.

“They can do a way better job than actual law enforcement.” Lou retorted.

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation. If there wasn’t any honor I’m your choice, so be it. Your new bottom line was set into place. One million woolong was going to be a possibility for you, one way or another.

-

Jet sat at the navigation console on the bridge, pressing buttons at a lightning fast speed. On his right side was the computer TV, playing some late night television as background noise. Faye stood near the windows, smoking a cigarette and looking out into the nighttime sky. There was something that must have been discussed.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Jet sighed and got up. “I went ahead and placed our coordinates for our next bounty back on Mars. Should only be a week.”

“Dinner was a little off, don’t you think?” Faye said, ignoring Jet.

Jet’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying something about my cooking?”

“What? No. I meant with-“

“With Spike and (Y/N)? Then yes, there is something off with them. I’ve noticed it since we got back home the other day.” Jet said.

“So much more talkative, that’s for damn sure. Couldn’t keep up with it.” Faye replied as she descended the steps to the navigation console.

“The big baby wasn’t all too happy about her staying with us. So I wonder why he’s acting all buddy buddy with her.”

Faye chuckled, a sly upturn of the mouth growing on her face. “Hmm, sounds like someone is jealous.”

Looking up from the console, Jet scoffed. “I’m more than happy that I’m not playing therapist anymore. Everyday it was, “did you see the way she did this” or “did you see the way how she did that”. At that point, I should’ve started charging Spike.”

Faye had given some deep thought since dinner. The outline was in plain sight. A touch on the back. A squeeze on the shoulder. A tap on the thigh. It thrilled Faye to be the only one to know of the growing tension between Spike and (Y/N), to be the one to hold a secret without being told of it. But in the midst of the excitement, there was another feeling circling, weaving it way into her head. Jealousy.

It hurts to see couples walking by, hand in hand, romantically flaunting each other openly. Bothering Faye for a second, she knew she didn’t have to go home with them. But now that it was only a few feet from her, it was going to be a problem.

If the game doesn’t go as planned, someone has to interfere to ensure a win. And Faye did not like losing.

The computer TV turned to static as Jet flipped through the channels, trying to find the right program to end the night on. Settling on tonight’s showing of Big Shot, he leaned against the console, pondering about dinner. A conversation consisting of 100 words and more between Spike and (Y/N) was non-existent for the time that she had been staying on the Bebop. One afternoon alone, and suddenly they’re two peas in a pod.

We’ll just see how it goes, Jet thought.

A big red WARNING sign displayed on the screen, waking Jet and Faye right up.

“Folks, it seems we have an important message to relay to all bounty hunters in the solar system from the ISSP.”Punch said, his playful, exaggerated facade never faltering.

“Go ahead, we are all dying to know!” Judy replied, apparently cheerful about a serious topic at hand.

“Bounty hunters, look out! A mysterious criminal is on the loose, and his target is not the innocent civilians of the solar systems, but our esteemed, hard working hunters.”

“What makes him so bad, anyway?” Judy questioned.

“I’m glad you asked! Some of our amigos already know what we are talking about. There have been multiple reported incidents of hunting vessels being set ablaze with the intent of murder all across the system. The ISSP believes that this individual is ONLY targeting bounty hunters, and no one else.”

“Mysterious you say? Well goodness, looks like there’s no bounty for them yet!”

“Right you are. Until we get a face and a name, no dinero can be placed for the bounty. So be aware, and be safe out there, buckeroos!” Punch finished, smiling alongside Judy. Knowing they were playing a character, it was off putting by the serious news given.

Jet and Faye looked at each other in silence, eyes wide and full of questions.

Happy hunting, amigos.

#fanfiction #faye valentine #90s anime #cowboy bebop #jet black #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel #see you space cowboy #radio free mars #you’re going to carry that weight

[slashersins]

Who do you think of the slashers would like their s\o to wear a collar (and maybe leash)? Would you be able to maybe do a little something of them reacting to you asking if they'd mind you wearing one (and them holding the leash)? If this is too much feel free to ignore it 😌 its not everyone's cup of tea

oh shit . kinky shit is happening !

Who do you think of the slashers would like their s\o to wear a collar (and maybe leash)? Would you be able to maybe do a little something of them reacting to you asking if they'd mind you wearing one (and them holding the leash)? If this is too much feel free to ignore it 😌 its not everyone's cup of tea

which slashers want you to wear the collar 

jesse : 

it shows that your his . a pretty little collar around your dainty little neck . his pretty pet , his baby , his . wearing it in the bedroom is one thing . he’ll get his rocks off , daddy dom , pet play , master slave - you name it . just seeing you in it , or hell they way you sit on the bed and lift your head up to offer your neck to him . the submission . the control . he’s like a poised beast , circling you and sizing you up before playing with you and devouring you whole . but you wearing it casually ? when he isn’t expecting it ? bringing him lunch at his day job ? your neck sporting the collar , and that innocent look in your eyes . are you trying to kill him ? do you know how hard it is to pay attention to meetings and send emails when he’s rock fucking hard ? you’ve been walking around with that on ? showing the world who you belong to ? be prepared for this man to go feral and bend you over his office . he’ll use his tie as a makeshift leash and keep you under his desk servicing him till his work day is done . and when he gets you home ? oh , he’s going to remind you of how you belong to him . he’s going to make sure you know how much you mean to him . tonight he’s going to focus on you . his good little kitten . 

michael :

it was done out of boredom . michael had seen the dog collar when he accompanied ( stalked ) you while shopping . he’d stolen it , wondering what you’d do if he put it on your neck . if you’d huff and take it off , or if you’d be indifferent . the reaction you gave him was so much sweeter . he’d pulled you onto one of his thighs , taking the stolen collar and putting it on you . you’d touched it , wide eyed and flustered , looking away as you squirmed . you liked it . it embarrassed you . interested in your response , michael hooked a finger in the loop meant to attach to a leash and tugged it , forcing you to look up . the submission in your eyes making something snap in him . barely a blink of an eyes and michael has you on your stomach , finger looped in the collar as he starts getting you ready to take him , keeping his grip firm as stars fill your vision . it’s a rough , fast , need fuck . leaving you gasping for air and dizzy from all the times you almost passed out . the bruise it leaves around your neck is why micahel will bring it back out . not often . but sometimes he just wants to watch you submit so easy . to be his little fuck toy , to walk around with a bruise that left nothing to the imagination about what you had done to you . 

billy :

it was a joke . he didn’t think you’d put it on . but you did . you put it on , giving a laugh as you traced over the metal letters that spelled out your boyfriends name . and billy liked it . no , he fucking loved it . seeing you with his name on you like that ? as if you were his bitch ? which you were , just in the more romantic and i love you way . but fuck , he wasn’t prepared . it turned him on . he took you right then and there , against the wall of petsmart , just barely hidden from the street lamp . 

which slasher wanna wear the collar 

jason :

technically , jason already has a collar and leash . the heavy chain around his neck . but he only lets you touch it. and only in the bedroom . he likes you it bites into his skin when you pull him in for a kiss . he likes how you tighten your grip to choke him ever so slightly . he’s a submissive boy at times , and this is him handing you total control , even if you can’t kill him . 

stu :

he’s going to wear it everywhere and he’s going to be a little shit about it . he’s gonna have you walk him around , tug on his collar , put a leash on him . he’s fucking into it , smiling and making jokes about how your little puppy wants a treat , hands moving to your waist and down your front . a sharp tug on his collar makes him pout , but he’ll stop . he knows you’re going to get the least and give him a treat later . 

#jesse cromeans #michael myers #billy loomis #jason voorhees #stu macher #jesse cromeans x reader #michael myers x reader #billy loomis x reader #jason vorhees x reader #stu macher x reader #jesse cromeans imagine #michael myers imagine #billy loomis imagine #jason vorhees imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #slasher #slashers #slashers x reader #( asks / answered. )

[fuckthesworld]

FREEDOM TO DESIRE

CEO MITCH RAPP AU

MITCH RAPP x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and unprotected sex!

Rapp Corporation was the leading marketing firm in the world. Companies like Disney, Sony and Southwest paid millions of dollars to be associated with it. It represented actors, athletes, business moguls and small businesses. While it was in high demand it was also reasonable - sponsoring schools and nonprofit organizations around the world.

The single person driving the reigns to the crazy international kingdom that resided in London was Mitch Rapp . That’s right. He was part of a decade of strong, successful businessmen.

And he was your boss.

You had literally stumbled into the job of personal assistant. Literally. You were walking out of a coffee shop, resumes in hand when you ran into his large, hard frame. You landed on your ass and when you were able to recover, you were looking into the deepest chocolate eyes you had ever seen. His bright white teeth clashed against his tan skin, his dark locks perfectly framing his face.

Then you remembered that you had spilled coffee on one of the most powerful, young bachelors in the world.

You had also spilled coffee all over your resume and you groaned in realization, the expensive fresh pages coated in thick lakes of coffee. He had helped you pick up the lost keys to your future, taking a second to read over your resume and offered you a job. He was on the way to meet someone about being his personal assistant and you did just get your masters in public relations. You could intern while still making money and if you showed promise he promised to promote you.

Sometimes life really does work out in your favor. Sit in that for five seconds then remember that your boss is one of the sexiest, most successful young CEO’s in the world.

Not only is he attractive but he has the work ethic of an ox. And it made working for him damn hard. Probably harder than managing the clients he had. He was constantly in meetings, constantly leaving early in the morning and late in the evening. Going to galas and charity events, charming new people. He opened up smaller chains in areas in the world stricken by poverty to try to help increase job opportunities. He volunteered at schools and hospitals. He spent his Thanksgiving and Christmas and any other holiday of giving providing food for those in need. Always. He’s always been like this.

Mitch wasn’t just a CEO. Wasn’t even human.

He was a goddamn saint sent from heaven to wreak havoc on earth.

It was on such an occasion that he had asked you to attend one of his events - a large gala celebrating 50 years of business with his father and grandfather.  The whole legacy under one roof. You didn’t understand why you were asked to attend. As his assistant sure you had to manage the media and who visited him. But that had been hours ago. The night was now thriving off the rich and famous drunkenly dancing and teasing each other. Mitch never drank more than two glasses of anything at events like these so you didn’t have to babysit him. But you also wanted to go home if he didn’t need you and that he refused.

You watched him as he laughed along with two of his most trusted partners, Scott Mccall and Derek Hale as they sipped expensive champagne and spoke lowly among each other. Mitch was wearing a tailored blue suit, his white  button up popping against a black tie. His slight beard had grown since he shaved it these past two days and was now a short beard and all you could think about was how it would feel between your legs.

You shook your head, returning your eyes to your blackberry. You had to get it together. Everyone teased you that he had a thing for you. He never had women assistants. Preferred men to ensure that things stayed professional. Never offered people jobs on the spot either.

There was just something about you they would tease.

Well he sure as hell wasn’t making a move so until he did it would have to stay a mystery.

“You’re still working for him.”

The soft voice takes you off guard and you jump a bit, breaking from your thoughts as  your eyes fall on your assailant. Standing in a dark red gown, her pale skin contrasting with her perfectly coiffed dark hair is Katrina Mendes. 

Ex-girlfriend of Mitch Rapp.

She takes a seat beside you, the soft smell of Chanel wafting off her skin as she continues.

“Didn’t think a fragile little thing like you would survive a man like him.”

You knew what she was doing. Her younger sister, Annika , had warned you about this months ago. When you had accidentally ran into her at a golf tournament with Mitch. She loved him still. Despite the fact that she married someone new, moved across the world, she still loved and wanted him. Didn’t want anyone else to claim him.

You were a threat. You were beautiful,  intelligent. charming and apparently upon Scott’s teasing, he spoke about you a lot. Katrina hated you. And reminded you every time she saw you.

“Surprised you’re here. Thought you’d be back in America with your husband. Oh wait, he’s in Japan with his mistress of the month.”

It was no secret her husband cheated on her. She even laughed about it but deep down you knew it killed her inside. Killed her that she chose a man like that over a man like Mitch. It made you even empathize for her…until she opened her mouth and you were reminded that karma was real.

She narrows her eyes at you before deliberately taking the large flute of champagne in her hand and slowly tilting it on your dress. On your $3,000 dress you had charged on your credit card that you had planned on returning tomorrow. You had only bought the navy blue gown to try to impress Mitch, hoping he would be charmed by the way it looked on your body.

It hadn’t and now, on top of rejection, she had ruined it and put you $3,000 in the hole.

“Have fun returning your De la Rented dress.” she smirks at you as you stand, the champagne trailing down the front of the long gown. You try to bite back tears, try not to bring too much attention to yourself as you pat at he gown down with a napkin before looking at her.

“I really hope you’re happy making other people’s life miserable Katrina. Because from what I hear, you used to be an awesome person and now, now you’re just a lonely bitch.”

You don’t notice the crowd of people who have been crowding around, watching the small scene unfold. Don’t see Mitch head toward you as you make your way down to the hallway to the family restroom. You don’t realize the tears that have been falling down your cheeks until you feel him grab your arm, turning you gently toward him.

“Y/N…” your name sounds different on his tongue and the way he’s looking at you has you sobbing harder. You try to push him away as he draws you to him, his large sculpted arms surrounding you as he whispers,

“Just let it all out.”

You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve wasted $3,000 on a dress that had made little impact in your life. Maybe its because you’ve been up since 4:30 because of him, trying to make his night perfect. You missed having a social life. Missed your mom and dad and siblings. Missed your small loft in London.

Missed all of this because of him and he didn’t even give a damn.

The thought drives your sobs deeper and his grip tightens around you as you cry harder, his large hands rubbing your back. His mouth hushes you and he rocks you before you start to calm down, your sobs tampering off and you pull away, shaking your head. You want to apologize for your unprofessionalism and you also wanted to tell him he could take his assistant job and fuck off but then his left hand is hooking under your chin as he tilts your head up to you.

“I can pay for your dress. I’m sorry she ruined it. But holy hell Y/N what did you expect when you wore something like this?”

His right hand that has never left your body tampers down your back as he pulls you closer to him.

“You’ve been driving everybody mad wearing this,” he eyes are shifting now, darkening around the pupils as he licks his lips. “It should be a condemned sin.”

His voice has dropped an octave and the deep bass draws a shiver up your spine. You give your lip a light bite and he gives a short groan, the pad of his thumb brushing over the exposed skin. His hand tightens around your waist as he whispers,

“You should be a condemned sin.”

You’re looking up at him confused, trying to register what he was saying. He watches you back, trying to get a read on you before he straightens, pulling from you.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” he croaks, backing away as he takes you in one last time before he turns on his heel. You stop him, your hand shooting for his arm. You walk around him, his hair covering his pinched eyes as you whisper,

“What do you mean by that Mitch?”

He doesn’t look at you as he manages out,

“I’ve drank too much. I shouldn’t…” he looks at you and groans. “You just, I should have asked you out and not have offered you a job.”

The words takes you off guard as he takes a deep sigh.

“You’re so goddamn sexy and smart and I felt terrible ruining your resumes,” he was referencing your encounter months ago. “That offering you a job was the best I could do. I thought you’d get burnt out and quit and then I could ask you out but you’re so damn good. So damn good at everything you do so I’ve been stuck pretending I don’t care when all I want is you.”

Your dumbstruck as he looks at you and groans, shrugging out of your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We can leave, if you want.”

He’s looking past you and you’re trying to process it all.

He really did like you.

You grab his neck, drawing him down to you, your lips pressing against his. It catches him off guard for only a second before he’s registering your actions, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushes you flush against a wall. His kisses are needy and desperate as his tongue teases your mouth open and you are consumed by him. Your hands move to his hair, his beautiful dark tresses getting tangled in your delicate fingers as he moans in your mouth, pushing his hips into your naval.

You moan feeling his erection brush against you and he pulls away, his eyes frenzied with lust.

“Not here.” his voice is hoarse and deep as he grabs you and basically drags you into the family restroom you were seeking out earlier. He shuts the door, locking it before grabbing you and slamming you against the door. He lifts you, your long gown getting lost around him as your legs hooks around his waist and his mouth is on your collarbone, sucking on the skin.

“You are so damn gorgeous,” he mumbles along your skin, his mouth nipping at your neck. “Do you know that? Do you know that you’ve been driving me fucking insane in this dress” his hands trail up your gown, his hot fingers clashing with your cool thighs and his mouth has found yours. “Drove me insane the moment I picked you up and you were wearing this.” His hands ghost over your center and you give a small yelp, as he pulls back to look you in the eye.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” he bites his lips as he glides his fingers up your wet folds and you shiver as you stumble out,

“I always run out of clean underwear and you came so early to pick me up I couldn’t go and buy a pair.”

His hands slowly traces up and down your pussy and he watches your face twist in pleasure.

“How many times have you worked with me without any panties on?”

“Honestly?” you bite down on your lip as his thumb slowly starts to tease against your clit and your hips rock against his finger. “Like most of the time. You don’t give me enough time to do my laundry.”

Your words are soft, barely coming in a whisper and he growls, sticking a finger into you as he begins his slow assault into your tight walls.

“You are so fucking wet,” he whispers as he looks at you, a wicked grin on his face. “Are you always this wet for me princess?”

You give a weak nod as he inserts another finger and you buck against him, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I thought I smelled you the other week when we were at dinner.” You knew what he was referencing. He had taken you out for dinner after a long day at the office at a trendy sushi spot. He had been talking to you as his nimble fingers gracefully picked up one sushi after the other, the raw fish placed carefully in his mouth. You don’t know why it turned you on but it did. You wanted to know what those fingers would feel like in you, his mouth over yours.

Now you knew.

“Did I smell you princess?” he whispers a grin gracing his face and you give another weak nod and he growls, inserting a third finger in you. You arch your back against him, hands stuck in his hair as his mouth attacks your neck again.

“Tell me what had you so turned on so much?”

You give a weak mewl in silence and he pulls his fingers out, causing you to whine. He looks up at you with hooded eyes shaking his head.

“You have to use your words princess.”

“I was thinking about you finger fucking me.” you manage out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush over. He smiles as he sticks his fingers back in you, watching your face contort in pleasure again. His fingers curls up and hits you in that sweet spot and you feel your body tensing, clawing for release.

“Were you?”

You give a quick nod and he chuckles, his mouth getting close to your ear. His fingers are merciless know, pumping into you faster as his thumb brushes against your clit and you can feel that tension in your stomach build up.

“Wanna hear a secret princess?” he whispers against the shell of your ear and you hum, your body starting to give in to the pleasure he was delighting you to. “I’ve jacked off to you every night since I’ve met you, cumming all over my body from the thought of my dick being filled to the rim in you.”

That was all you needed. Between his fingers and the image of him jacking off to you your screaming his name, your fingers tangled in his hair as your walls flutter around his fingers. He groans, coaxing you through your climax as he watches you before he pulls from you, inserting all three of his fingers in his mouth. He gives a low moan as he sucks your essence off and pulls his fingers out with a pop before your leaning into him for a kiss.

He shifts, carrying you to the bathroom counter and slamming placing you down. He yanks at his suit, pulling down his pants and boxers as his cock springs free.

“Tonight I’ll make love to you the way you deserve,” he promises as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I’ll have you begging my name by the time I’m done with you but right now I just need you.”

His cock is teasing your folds as you look up at him, your eyes darkening as you thrust your hips forward. He stops you, something dark flickering in his eyes.

“What do you want princess?” he whispers and you moan as your hands pull at his shoulders.

“I want you.”

“You want me to what?” a satisfied smirk sits on his face and you rub your folds against his twitching cock.

“Want you to fuck me with your big fucking cock.”

He groans as he slowly thrusts into you, grabbing your hands and intertwining them with yours as he raises them above your head. His head falls in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out in you, his hair tickling your shoulders and you both give a satisfied moan. You rock your hips against him, enjoying the way he fills you to the brim and he moans as he pulls from you, his hips rocking out of you before slamming back in.

“Goddamn you are tight..” he whispers as he lifts himself enough to look at you, then his mouth is hot on yours as his body claims you.

His hips snap into you, desperately chasing after your orgasm before he lifts your leg and you’re getting hit in that special spot that has you screaming out his name.

“That’s right princess. Want you to cum all over my big cock.” he whispers, his hips in a frenzy as he watches you unwind underneath him. His finger finds your clit and flicks the sensitive area and you’re screaming his name again, your body shaking as you find sweet release. His hips are sloppily slapping against your as your walls tighten around before there milking him  his body shaking uncontrollably as your arms find your way around his body.

You wait a beat before saying,

“Soooo…I’m guessing I have to quit. This is the highest level of conflicted interest if I’ve ever known one.”

He chuckles, his face tucked in your shoulder before pulling away and kissing you.

“I don’t want you to quit.”

“Wouldn’t that be -”

“Unless you want to. You’re free to work in any of our departments. You’re way too good to be an assistant.” he’s rambling, something he does when he’s nervous and you chuckle, leaning up and kissing him. He relaxes as you pull away, his lips tugged between your teeth before you whisper.

“Let’s worry about it tomorrow. I should at least get a year under your belt before we talk about commitment.”

He chuckles, wiggling against you and there’s a soft knock on the door and you both freeze before you hear Scott’s voice.

“…….so uhhh, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but ummmm,” he clears his throat though you can hear the humour in his voice. “Your dad is looking for you Mitch. For a photo.”

Mitch groans and you laugh, giving a lock of his hair a tug.

“Give us a minute Scott. We need to….make ourselves decent.”

“Uh huh.” You know he’s smiling as he walks away and Mitch’s eyes are glinting at you mischievously.

“How long do you think he’s been standing out there hearing you scream out my name?”

“Mitch! That’s your best friend!” you say in mock surprise and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Scott’s always had a thing for you.” he nuzzles his face in your neck before muttering. “Besides I have another round in me.”

His shimmies his hips against yours and you gasp at his dick hardening in you.

You both make it out of the bathroom thirty minutes later.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp smut #mitch-tober #mitch month #american assassin #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #mitch rapp imagine #mitchober

[slashersins-abandoned]

which slashers want you to wear the collar

jesse :

it shows that your his . a pretty little collar around your dainty little neck . his pretty pet , his baby , his . wearing it in the bedroom is one thing . he’ll get his rocks off , daddy dom , pet play , master slave - you name it . just seeing you in it , or hell they way you sit on the bed and lift your head up to offer your neck to him . the submission . the control . he’s like a poised beast , circling you and sizing you up before playing with you and devouring you whole . but you wearing it casually ? when he isn’t expecting it ? bringing him lunch at his day job ? your neck sporting the collar , and that innocent look in your eyes . are you trying to kill him ? do you know how hard it is to pay attention to meetings and send emails when he’s rock fucking hard ? you’ve been walking around with that on ? showing the world who you belong to ? be prepared for this man to go feral and bend you over his office . he’ll use his tie as a makeshift leash and keep you under his desk servicing him till his work day is done . and when he gets you home ? oh , he’s going to remind you of how you belong to him . he’s going to make sure you know how much you mean to him . tonight he’s going to focus on you . his good little kitten .

michael :

it was done out of boredom . michael had seen the dog collar when he accompanied ( stalked ) you while shopping . he’d stolen it , wondering what you’d do if he put it on your neck . if you’d huff and take it off , or if you’d be indifferent . the reaction you gave him was so much sweeter . he’d pulled you onto one of his thighs , taking the stolen collar and putting it on you . you’d touched it , wide eyed and flustered , looking away as you squirmed . you liked it . it embarrassed you . interested in your response , michael hooked a finger in the loop meant to attach to a leash and tugged it , forcing you to look up . the submission in your eyes making something snap in him . barely a blink of an eyes and michael has you on your stomach , finger looped in the collar as he starts getting you ready to take him , keeping his grip firm as stars fill your vision . it’s a rough , fast , need fuck . leaving you gasping for air and dizzy from all the times you almost passed out . the bruise it leaves around your neck is why micahel will bring it back out . not often . but sometimes he just wants to watch you submit so easy . to be his little fuck toy , to walk around with a bruise that left nothing to the imagination about what you had done to you .

billy :

it was a joke . he didn’t think you’d put it on . but you did . you put it on , giving a laugh as you traced over the metal letters that spelled out your boyfriends name . and billy liked it . no , he fucking loved it . seeing you with his name on you like that ? as if you were his bitch ? which you were , just in the more romantic and i love you way . but fuck , he wasn’t prepared . it turned him on . he took you right then and there , against the wall of petsmart , just barely hidden from the street lamp .

which slasher wanna wear the collar

jason :

technically , jason already has a collar and leash . the heavy chain around his neck . but he only lets you touch it. and only in the bedroom . he likes you it bites into his skin when you pull him in for a kiss . he likes how you tighten your grip to choke him ever so slightly . he’s a submissive boy at times , and this is him handing you total control , even if you can’t kill him .

stu :

he’s going to wear it everywhere and he’s going to be a little shit about it . he’s gonna have you walk him around , tug on his collar , put a leash on him . he’s fucking into it , smiling and making jokes about how your little puppy wants a treat , hands moving to your waist and down your front . a sharp tug on his collar makes him pout , but he’ll stop . he knows you’re going to get the least and give him a treat later .

#jason voorhees #jason voorhees imagine #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #jesse cromeans #jesse cromeans imagine #jesse cromeans x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher imagine #stu macher x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher imagine #slashers imagine #slasher x reader #slashers x reader