#pretty pretty won when engine and lose yourself are RIGHT THERE !

[yanankim]

I would have seriously dropped the song tournament the moment shine won over off-road...

i put so much effort into making everything tho so even if im upset i have to soldier on 😔

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) Chapter 17

The ease of just chilling under a tree with your favorite autobot is very satisfying.

No evil robots chasing you.

Just you and Bumblebee in Sam’s backyard.

Said teen was off on a date with Mikaela. His parents were also out on a weekend vacation that Judy won. She was pretty proud of that accomplishment. So there you lay under the shade of a tree, enjoying the soft breeze and gentle rays of sun that peeked through.

Bumblebee’s optics blinked as he poked your shoulder and you laughed, scooting down a bit to share some of the shade. His engine let out a soft whirring sound and you sigh happily.

“This is the life. Isn’t it Bee. ” You mumble.

Bee nodded.

“It sure is, sport!” His radio responded.

You turned your head in his direction, soaking in the atmosphere.

Just a few weeks ago you’d been so angry at him. Although he had lied to you, there’s a part of you that was more hurt because you thought he just didn’t trust you.

Thinking back you understood. There were so many variables he had to take into account. At the end of the day he’d been following an order from Optimus. Because despite his innocent nature, he was a soldier.

Very loyal.

You admire that.

“Thanks for always looking out for me, Bumblebee.”

His head turned, and you could see the way those blue orbs shined.

“I’ll always be there to protect you (Y/N).”

It’s one of the few times that he talks without the assistance of the radio.

He leans over, one of his hands at the side of your head. You lose your breath when his free hand gently strokes your cheek. He’s just using one finger. Despite the cold of the metal, your body feels nothing but heat. Both at his touch and the strength of his gaze. His finger drifts down, and you find yourself swallowing as his eyes track wherever his hand goes. It runs down your shoulder that’s exposed due to your tank top.

He doesn’t stop there. It’s almost like he’s mesmerized. His head tilts to the side, and you bite down on your lip when his hand changes course. His thumb runs from along your ankle, right up to your knee. You can’t get a word out.

Not one single thing.

His head leans a bit closer and instinctively your hands lay against his chest plates.

“B-Bee..”

You’re hoping he’ll realize just what he’s doing, but he still seems zoned out.

When his hand moves to your inner thigh, you let out a soft sound.

It pulls his eyes away from your body, and you press your knees together looking startled as you cover your mouth with your hand.

He blinks, taken with the sound and that bashful expression on your face. It’s then that he processes your light touch on his chest.

“That was cute..do it again..”

You’re surprised at his words. Before you have a chance to say much, he strokes you between your legs and you jolt, lifting your hips. You can hear the fans of his engine increase as you arch your back. Your thighs part unconsciously and you’re now gripping at his chest. You’re holding on so tight. It’s as if you don’t want this to stop.

You don’t want him to stop.

His other hand finds its way over to your hip and he pushes up the material of your shirt to relish in the softness of your skin. He’ll never get tired of the subtle differences between his race and your own. Although much weaker in comparison, you’re strong willed. Maybe that’s what he admires. You’re much more limited in strength, yet you still faced an enemy to protect him and his family even when you were so clearly hurt by his betrayal. You placed your life on the line.

For him.

His grip tightens just a little and when he sees the blue light that follows along the veins of your skin, he marvels. A shimmer of blue ignites in your eyes and you can’t help but moan. Bumblebee is a bit taken aback. It’s almost like he can feel a spark. His hand drifts to the center of your chest and your heart beat sends a jolt throughout his processes that causes another wanton sound to slip from your lips.

His body staggers and he braces his hand against the grass so as to not crush you with his weight. You’re both now chest to chest and he’s the one in disarray. You hug him tightly, legs trying to wrap around his much larger hips as you press into him.

The sound of Sam’s front door opening is what brings you both back to earth.

“Hey Bee, have you seen my phone?”

Sam calls.

You scramble, and Bumblebee looks a bit panicked. You push him, trying to get to your feet. Bee is just as flustered as you.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I don’t know why I did that I-”

“It’s okay!!”

You won’t look directly at him, and you begin stammering.

“I-I have to get g-going I-I’ll see you tomorrow Bee!”

You practically sprint out of there, and Bee watches your bag that is perched on the table not too far away. You’d forgotten it in your haste to get away. His head drops back onto the ground.

“That was..amazing..”

He can still feel the soft sparks from where his hand touched. The beat of your heart that was almost calling his body closer. He’d never experienced anything like that before.

Mojo just looked over at him, tilting his head.

[icinch]

Don't be a Quitter – Be a Failure Instead

New Post has been published on https://www.cinchhomebiz.com/dont-be-a-quitter-be-a-failure-instead/

Don't be a Quitter – Be a Failure Instead

We’re taught from early on that success is everything. Win the game or ace the test and you get the grown-up’s approval. Then we get older and succeeding becomes even more important. You got into a hot shot college? Congrats! You won the contract? Great! You built a multi-million dollar business? Super!

But here’s what nobody tells you – before you can win you’ve almost always got to lose, and lose big, and lose often. You’ve heard the expression, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” right? Well, when you venture you don’t always gain. Many times you lose, and you lose big.

And when that happens, your confidence takes a nosedive. The next time out you hedge your bets, you pull your punches and you don’t try as hard. Why? Because that way if you fail again, you can tell yourself that you didn’t lose as big. It’s funny, but it’s also human nature.

People fail a time or two and then what do they do? Sadly, many quit. They just give up. Failure hurts too much. It’s humiliating and embarrassing and they’d rather play it “safe.” Which actually means they don’t want to play at all, they just want to sit in their cozy cotton lined box and never venture outside into the cruel world again.

Here’s what those people don’t know: The ONLY way to truly, absolutely, permanently fail is to quit. Everything else is simply a step on the way to success.

Did you know…

– The average millionaire goes bankrupt 3.5 times.

– There is a new millionaire created every 58 hours.

– The average millionaire doesn’t realize their dream until age 45 and becomes a millionaire at 54.

– The average millionaire dabbles in 17 different businesses, concepts, schemes and enterprises but doesn’t hit it big until the 18th try.

Entrepreneurship is the quickest way to become a millionaire. 74% of all millionaires in America became millionaires through entrepreneurship.

The average millionaire goes bankrupt and what does s/he do? Dusts themselves off and tries again. And again. And again. Failure is a temporary detour, not a roadblock. I absolutely promise you, if you’re still breathing then you can still succeed and succeed BIG, regardless of how many times you’ve failed in the past.

Remember those Chicken Soup for the Soul guys, Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen? Their manuscript got rejected 140 times by 140 different publishers. Most people would have quit after the 10th or 20th rejection, but they just kept sending out that manuscript until the 141st publisher took a chance. Result? Both of them are millionaires many times over.

Winston Churchill failed the sixth grade and he was defeated in every public office role he ran for. Then he became the British Prime Minister at the age of 62 and led his country to victory in WWII.

Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm. – Winston Churchill

R. H. Macy had a long and undistinguished history of failing businesses, including the first Macy’s in NYC. No one would have bet on him, but he went on to create the biggest department store in the world.

Marilyn Monroe’s first contract with Columbia Pictures expired because they decided she wasn’t pretty or talented enough to be an actress. But Monroe kept plugging away, and even today’s audiences know and love her decades after her untimely death.

Toyota passed over Soichiro Honda for an engineering job. He could have quit on his dreams. Instead, he went on to make motorcycles and cars and became a billionaire in the process.

Thomas Edison’s teachers told him he was “too stupid to learn anything.” Imagine how that could impact a child, hearing from the ‘experts’ that you’re too stupid to learn. Most kids would stop trying. Not Edison.

Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. – Thomas Edison

Vera Wang failed to make the U.S. Olympic figure-skating team. Then she got passed over for the editor-in-chief position at Vogue. Time to realize she was a failure, right? Wrong. At age 40 she began designing wedding gowns and today she’s one of the hottest designers in the business and a self-made billionaire.

You’ve probably heard that Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because he “lacked imagination and had no good ideas.” But did you know that he had several failed businesses before the premiere of Snow White?

The difference in winning and losing is most often…not quitting. – Walt Disney

Albert Einstein’s teachers labeled him “slow” and “mentally handicapped.” What if Einstein had actually believed the people who made these proclamations? For one thing he never would have won the Nobel prize in physics.

Henry Ford’s first auto company went out of business. He abandoned a second because of a fight and lost a third to declining sales. Yet he went on to become one of the greatest American entrepreneurs ever.

If you think you can do a thing or think you can’t do a thing, you’re right. – Henry Ford

J. K. Rowling was unemployed and living on social security while writing her first Harry Potter novel. It was rejected by 12 different publishers and finally picked up with a paltry advance of just 1,500 pounds, but now she became the first person to become a billionaire through writing.

For every failure to success example I’ve given here, there are literally hundreds of thousands of others out there. And the only thing stopping you from becoming the next failure to success story is you. So what are you waiting for?

Hurry up and get your failures out of the way so you can go on to create big success for yourself too. And maybe someday your story will be featured right along with Einstein’s, Ford’s, Disney’s and all the other great people who refused to let a little thing like failure get in their way.

[grabyourluck-blog]

Don't be a Quitter – Be a Failure Instead

New Post has been published on https://www.referral-master.com/dont-be-a-quitter-be-a-failure-instead/

Don't be a Quitter – Be a Failure Instead

We’re taught from early on that success is everything. Win the game or ace the test and you get the grown-up’s approval. Then we get older and succeeding becomes even more important. You got into a hot shot college? Congrats! You won the contract? Great! You built a multi-million dollar business? Super!

But here’s what nobody tells you – before you can win you’ve almost always got to lose, and lose big, and lose often. You’ve heard the expression, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” right? Well, when you venture you don’t always gain. Many times you lose, and you lose big.

And when that happens, your confidence takes a nosedive. The next time out you hedge your bets, you pull your punches and you don’t try as hard. Why? Because that way if you fail again, you can tell yourself that you didn’t lose as big. It’s funny, but it’s also human nature.

People fail a time or two and then what do they do? Sadly, many quit. They just give up. Failure hurts too much. It’s humiliating and embarrassing and they’d rather play it “safe.” Which actually means they don’t want to play at all, they just want to sit in their cozy cotton lined box and never venture outside into the cruel world again.

Here’s what those people don’t know: The ONLY way to truly, absolutely, permanently fail is to quit. Everything else is simply a step on the way to success.

Did you know…

– The average millionaire goes bankrupt 3.5 times.

– There is a new millionaire created every 58 hours.

– The average millionaire doesn’t realize their dream until age 45 and becomes a millionaire at 54.

– The average millionaire dabbles in 17 different businesses, concepts, schemes and enterprises but doesn’t hit it big until the 18th try.

Entrepreneurship is the quickest way to become a millionaire. 74% of all millionaires in America became millionaires through entrepreneurship.

The average millionaire goes bankrupt and what does s/he do? Dusts themselves off and tries again. And again. And again. Failure is a temporary detour, not a roadblock. I absolutely promise you, if you’re still breathing then you can still succeed and succeed BIG, regardless of how many times you’ve failed in the past.

Remember those Chicken Soup for the Soul guys, Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen? Their manuscript got rejected 140 times by 140 different publishers. Most people would have quit after the 10th or 20th rejection, but they just kept sending out that manuscript until the 141st publisher took a chance. Result? Both of them are millionaires many times over.

Winston Churchill failed the sixth grade and he was defeated in every public office role he ran for. Then he became the British Prime Minister at the age of 62 and led his country to victory in WWII.

Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm. – Winston Churchill

R. H. Macy had a long and undistinguished history of failing businesses, including the first Macy’s in NYC. No one would have bet on him, but he went on to create the biggest department store in the world.

Marilyn Monroe’s first contract with Columbia Pictures expired because they decided she wasn’t pretty or talented enough to be an actress. But Monroe kept plugging away, and even today’s audiences know and love her decades after her untimely death.

Toyota passed over Soichiro Honda for an engineering job. He could have quit on his dreams. Instead, he went on to make motorcycles and cars and became a billionaire in the process.

Thomas Edison’s teachers told him he was “too stupid to learn anything.” Imagine how that could impact a child, hearing from the ‘experts’ that you’re too stupid to learn. Most kids would stop trying. Not Edison.

Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. – Thomas Edison

Vera Wang failed to make the U.S. Olympic figure-skating team. Then she got passed over for the editor-in-chief position at Vogue. Time to realize she was a failure, right? Wrong. At age 40 she began designing wedding gowns and today she’s one of the hottest designers in the business and a self-made billionaire.

You’ve probably heard that Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because he “lacked imagination and had no good ideas.” But did you know that he had several failed businesses before the premiere of Snow White?

The difference in winning and losing is most often…not quitting. – Walt Disney

Albert Einstein’s teachers labeled him “slow” and “mentally handicapped.” What if Einstein had actually believed the people who made these proclamations? For one thing he never would have won the Nobel prize in physics.

Henry Ford’s first auto company went out of business. He abandoned a second because of a fight and lost a third to declining sales. Yet he went on to become one of the greatest American entrepreneurs ever.

If you think you can do a thing or think you can’t do a thing, you’re right. – Henry Ford

J. K. Rowling was unemployed and living on social security while writing her first Harry Potter novel. It was rejected by 12 different publishers and finally picked up with a paltry advance of just 1,500 pounds, but now she became the first person to become a billionaire through writing.

For every failure to success example I’ve given here, there are literally hundreds of thousands of others out there. And the only thing stopping you from becoming the next failure to success story is you. So what are you waiting for?

Hurry up and get your failures out of the way so you can go on to create big success for yourself too. And maybe someday your story will be featured right along with Einstein’s, Ford’s, Disney’s and all the other great people who refused to let a little thing like failure get in their way.

[superbadassnatural]

Mirth Motel

Summary: Y/N desperately needs her beauty sleep. After lots of begging and attempts at the perfect puppy-dog-eyes, she finally convinces Dean to stop at a motel. Square filled: only one bed Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,188 Warnings: mostly fluff I guess, some funny bits, flirting, lots of eye rolls A/N: Surprisingly, I had never written this trope before! I’m not gonna lie, I had fun writing it. This fills my square for @spndeanbingo.

(x)

“Please,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes. Dean averted his eyes from the road to look at you. “Pretty please.”

“I'm gonna kill Sam for teaching the puppy-dog-eye thing,” he rolled his eyes.

“Is it working? Who does it better?” you wiggled your eyebrows excitedly.

“Sam’s been doing this his whole life; he had years of practice. Of course, he does it better,” he pointed out. “Sam looks like a kicked golden retriever puppy, and you-” he chuckled. “- you look like an angry chihuahua pretending to be sad, so you can go to the dog park and scare all the dogs away.”

“I've always wanted to be a chihuahua.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” it was your time to roll your eyes. “C’mon, Dean, there's a motel in a few miles. We can crash there. I'm tired. I desperately need my beauty sleep and my feet hurt and I need out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

“Well, my head hurts from hearing you ramble, but I'm not complaining, am I?” he glanced at you, pursing his lips.

“It's late and it's raining. Do you really want to put Baby through this rain? I bet she's cold.”

“Nah, she likes it when it rains. She thinks it's romantic,” his lips pulled up into an asymmetric grin. “If you want to, you can go into the backseat, change into your pjs and get some of your beauty sleep. I promise I won't look while you change. Unless you ask me to.”

“Dean, c’mon.”

“If I pull up at the motel and we crash there for the night, will you stop whining?”

“I'll never whine again for the rest of my life. Cross my heart.”

“Hey, careful there.”

“Please,” you batted your eyelashes. “Do it for me. I know that, deep down in that cold heart of yours, you love me.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “You won.”

“Have I mentioned you are the bestest friend in the world?” you grinned.

“Nope.”

“Well, you are the bestest friend in the world.”

Dean drove for a few more miles. The rain cracked on the hood of the Impala. The sound was relaxing and lulling. The neon sign greeted you, and Dean turned left to head into the parking lot.

“Really? Mirth Motel? What kind of name is that?” he grunted.

“I don’t know, Dean,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “At this point, I couldn't care less about the name of the motel. As long as it has beds and a shower, it's fine by me.”

Dean took a few turns in the parking lot, struggling to find a spot he could park his car.

“Oh for fucks sake, everyone decided to stay here tonight?”

“Stop complaining,” you nearly whined.

“There isn't a single spot where I can park Baby. There better be a room available for us.”

“Stop being so grumpy. There's a space available right there.”

“Where?”

“There!”

“Thanks,” he huffed.

“You're welcome,” you pouted.

Dean parked the car, cutting off the engine. He sighed and glanced at you.

“We’re far away from the entry,” he pointed out. “There's no way to get inside without getting ourselves wet.”

“Fine by me,” you shrugged. “As long as I get to take a shower as soon as I step foot in there, it's okay.”

“Okay.”

You and Dean climbed out of the car quickly with duffle bags over your shoulders. You made a beeline to the entrance of the building, the rain mercilessly pouring down on you. Dean immediately went to the front desk, some of his wet hair stuck to his forehead. You took a few steps back, grabbing your phone and deciding to text Sam to let him know you had made a stop at a motel.

“Two queens, please,” Dean smiled at the old lady behind the counter. She nodded and checked on the system.

“I’m sorry, dear, we don’t have any room available with two queen-sized beds,” she offered him a sympathetic smile. “But we do have a room that will settle you for the night just fine.”

“Okay,” Dean frowned as the woman handed him the keys with a smirk. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It's on the second floor. Have fun,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Dean turned to you with wide eyes. You glanced up from your phone.

“All good?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Got it.”

“Great. Shall we?”

Dean gave a short nod and led the way.

“Dude, we’ve been to a lot of crappy motels, but this one takes the cake,” he mumbled as you climbed up the stairs. “Why the hell couldn’t I just park the car and get in a room like every other motel?”

“I don’t know, Dean, but complaining won’t make any difference,” you chided. “And we’re gonna stay here for less than twelve hours. We’re gonna be on the road first thing in the morning, so please, just stop complaining, or I’ll smack your head in the wall.”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes.

Dean twisted the key in the lock, swinging the door open. He stepped inside, flicking on the lights; you followed suit. Dean sighed and threw his head back with a roll of his eyes. You frowned with a tilt of your head before looking over his shoulder.

“Of course there’s only one bed,” you blew out a breath. “Are we in a movie? ‘Cause now it certainly feels like we’re in a movie.”

Dean placed his bag on the table; you did the same.

“I expected more from a place called Mirth Motel,” he said. “I am certainly feeling mirthless.”

“Very funny, Dean,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, I’m gonna take a shower now, and when I get out, you better not be in a sour mood.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go get us some burgers. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Grabbing the keys, Dean walked out of the room. You picked up everything you needed and headed to the shower. The water pressure wasn’t nearly as good as the one you had in the bunker, but, right now, it was everything you needed.

By the time Dean got back, you were laying on the right side of the bed - knowing he’d rather sleep on the right -, reading your book. He held the paper bag in one hand and two beers in the other.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, placing the food on the table. “The burgers are still warm, but I think the beers might need to go in the fridge for a bit.”

“Want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, there’s no need to.”

“Okay, I’m waiting for you,” you said, and he chuckled. “What? There’s no fun in eating alone.”

“It’s gonna get cold.”

“We microwave it.”

“Right,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hmm, this delicious,” you nearly moaned, mouthful.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean smiled as he finished his burger, taking a long swig of his beer. “Look, if you want to, I can sleep in the backseat of Baby. I don’t mind. She’s comfy.”

“No, Dean, it’s okay,” you assured him, hand reaching out to his thick forearm. “The bed is big enough for both of us. It’s a king-sized bed, after all. We’d be in trouble if Sam had come with us.”

“Yeah, we would,” he chuckled. “He hogs all the blankets.”

“And all the space. That giant.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“One-hundred percent sure,” you smiled. “Unless you are the one who doesn’t want to sleep with me.”

“Huh? I- uh- of course, I wanna sleep with you,” he stumbled over his words, his voice trembling. You blurt out laughing. “No. I mean- I don’t mind sleeping with you on the same bed. Clothed and all. Not, uh, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and, uh- yeah, not that.”

“Easy, tiger. No need to get all flustered,” you chuckled. The point of his ears turned pink as his cheeks blushed. He took a long gulp of his beer. “For the record, I wouldn’t mind sleeping with you. I mean, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and all. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”

His wide green eyes lifted at you before averting your face again. Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Would you?” you asked.

“Would I what?”

“Mind sleeping with me butt-naked.”

“Oh. No, of course not,” he stammered, shaking his head nervously. “Not even a bit.”

“Good,” you nodded. “It’s good to know we’re on the same page.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh- I’m gonna go to sleep then,” he announced, awkwardly standing to his feet. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, you do that. I’ll be right after you.”

“Okay, good. Great.”

Dean locked himself in the bathroom, doing who knows what. You chuckled to yourself with a shake of your head. You loved making him feel embarrassed. Dean would get all cute whenever he felt uncomfortable. His eyes would widen, and he would lose every ability to talk. When his cheeks turned into a bright pink along with the tip of his ears, then everything was chaotic. It was nice to make him blush.

You laid on your back. The mattress wasn’t that comfortable. You didn’t expect it to be memory foam, but you hoped it would be a little comfier than it actually was. Your eyes were glued on the ceiling, your hands over your stomach as your finger tapped the back of your right one. An awkward silence filled the atmosphere as Dean, too, laid on his back without saying a word. His green eyes stared up as he chewed on his lip.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you said quietly, glancing at him.

“The ceiling is moving.”

“What?” you looked up with wide eyes. The ceiling was perfectly still.“Are you high?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure I've been staring at it for too long, and now it’s moving.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks, you too,” Dean turned on his side, glancing at you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that shirt.”

“My shirt?” you bit your lip to keep yourself from bursting into laughter.

“No, my shirt. You stole it.”

“You don’t remember, do you? You gave it to me as a birthday present.”

“It isn’t your birthday for the next month and a half.”

“You said it was an early gift,” you said firmly.

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I had given it to you,” he said. “But what do I know, right?”

“What do you know,” you licked your lips, turning to him.

“It looks better on you anyway,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, it does.”

Dean’s gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment, then backed up to your eyes. You drew a sharp intake of breath. His emerald green orbs seemed to unravel all the mysteries of your soul. You swallowed thick, avoiding his gaze. Slowly, Dean’s hand reached to yours under the blankets, his thumb caressed your skin. You looked up at him, his eyes locked in yours. As a way to avoid the growing tension between the two of you, you gave him a playful smirk and placed your feet on his legs.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling away; his hand didn’t let go, though. “Why are your feet so cold?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled innocently “You’re always hot, so now you’re gonna warm my feet since the blanket isn’t doing its job.”

“Jesus, it’s like the feet of a corpse.”

“Hey!” you smacked his shoulder. “Don’t say that.”

“Well, maybe if you wore some pants instead of shorts and actually put on some socks, your feet wouldn't be this cold.”

“You’re not fun, ” you pouted.

“If I had my feet against your shins, you wouldn't be too happy about it either.”

“Just admit you love having me this close to you,” you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

“G’night, Y/N,” he turned his back on you.

“My feet are still cold,” you whined. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know. Use my calves maybe. Just don’t put those dead feet on my back.”

“Can I put them on your ass? I bet it would get them warm pretty quick.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbled, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.

“Is that a yes or a no?” you insisted.

“That’s a no. Now shut it and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “Good night, Dean.”

Eventually, your feet got warm, and you pulled away from Dean. Some time, in the middle of the night, he found your back turned to him and decided to snuggle closer. His strong arm draped over your waist, knees tucked behind yours. Dean was laying on his back when the sun rose, and you rested your head on his chest, his arms once again securing you close. Of course, none of you would talk about waking up in each other's arms for the next four hours you’d be in the car. Perhaps you would only mention it once you were back at the bunker, forced to face what was said and done at the Mirth Motel.

What do you think of this one? Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog, or ask!

Hunters: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6​ @doozywoozy​ @mogaruke​ @babypink224221​ @leah-winchester​

Dean’s Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @miss-here-to-stay​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @danneelsmain​ @mrspeacem1nusone​  @percywinchester27​

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Wilfords Demands: Simple As That

Summary- 7.3k Curtis Everett x You. Realization of your predicament really sinks in, but Curtis wont simply let that happen. Wilford seems happy to extend the deal, after all Curtis is his favorite fighter, always has been. Confident that things wont be as bad as they could be, you and Curtis settle into preparing for the new child. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- talks of pregnancy, hint of possible abortion (a sentence), smut. 18+ Only. 

A/N- I can’t claim to know anything about pregnancy except what research has informed me. So descriptions will be vague and probably not accurate. 

Chapter 4 / Wilfords Demands Masterlist

“Then my Dear, you better encourage Curtis to win.” 

Those words sunk deep as you looked into Wilfords cold ice-sharp eyes, the way he was grinning as if this was a game. But it wasn't a game, this was your life, Curtis's life and ultimately the new life growing inside of you right now.

And right now it was better to stay with the devil you knew. Your hands flew to your still flat stomach, pressing it lightly while gasping out. 

“But I'm pregnant, with Curtis’s child. You can’t give me to another while raising his child.” You pointed out, hoping that the facts would be on your side in this. 

Wilford pulled back with a hearty laugh that made you feel sick, wanting to vomit hearing it. Claude to snickered at you as if you were to stupid to understand. Your confused look clouded your face. 

“Girl, you think you get to keep that baby? No woman like you gets to keep them.” Wilford wiped under his eyes to clear the tears. You could feel the blood ringing in your ears now as panic settled in your chest. 

“You are going to take away my baby?” 

“Of course you stupid bitch, you all are not fit to be mothers. Other more capable women will take them, raise them.” Claude snapped out gleefully at your distress. Wilford leaned forward giving you what was supposed to be a comforting pat on the hand, which you pulled back to your chest out of his reach. 

“Girl, you will birth that child and give him up to us. I might even keep this one for myself. If Curtis wins. I only keep winners. I expect you to be good to whoever gets to claim you after the tournament.” He shifted to a stand, putting his chair back. You were in too much shock to even comprehend what Claude and Wilford were saying to one another. 

“Ah, Claude, you better take her back to Curtis. The pretty thing seems to be in shock.” Wilford sighed a bit. “If she wasn't a tail ender, I would keep her for myself. She is a lovely thing. I'm sure Curtis will do his best to keep her.” 

You just stared ahead now while Claude pulled you to a stand with a mutter. “It is a shame Sir. But you don't really want to lower yourself to that.” 

All of this was just mumbled nonsense to you, still rolling over what they said earlier, neither you nor Curtis were going to get to keep the baby. 

Heading back towards the rooms, Claude paused you at the door and gave a nod to have it unlocked. 

Curtis had been pacing the room. To watch him was like the large cats in the zoo, coiled muscles back and forth pacing, snarls of frustration escaping at his predicament. The creak of the door made him pause though and you stepped through, your arms wrapped around your midsection and a blank look on your face. That scared him. And when the door slammed shut behind you, you flinched and blinked suddenly realizing where you were. 

“Y/N? Say something.” Curtis finally broke the silence, crossing the room to grasp your forearms, looking for another reaction from you. Anything to snap you out of the silence. 

You blinked a few more times and opened your mouth to say something but the words seem to be stuck somewhere. 

Curtis drew you to sit on the edge of the bed and lowered next to you waiting. Finally you looked at him, drawing in a breath. 

“There's a tournament? And I'm the prize?” You asked it like a question, still disbelieving. Curtis’s face darkened with a nod. 

“Yes. It's a gladiator style tournament once a year. I swear Y/N, I'm not going to lose and let anyone else have you. It’s why I have been training so hard.” He shifted in closer and let his hand rest on your thigh, squeezing lightly. “I have been training for these tournaments for years.” 

You looked down at his hand and studied it a moment, his knuckles were thick with scar tissue, some still busted from use. Fingers dug slightly into your thigh, as if holding you to him in case anyone tried to take you. 

Hands of someone who lived a hard life, but managed to be gentle on you most the time. You knew you would have to tell him the next part. This you didn't know how to deal with. It should have been joyful news, but it was so tainted by the situation. “I'm also pregnant, several weeks now. Did you know… when you got me pregnant that I wouldn't be keeping the child?” You cleared your throat a bit. 

Curtis withdrew his hold on you, flexing his hand. “Y/N… I never was sure but I suspected. The other women I had with me, I never saw them again. I don't know what happened to them or if they were allowed to keep their children.” His shoulders hunched. “But you… Wilford told me you were going to stay. He told you specifically that he would be taking it away?” 

You swallowed and pulled back into the bed, to use the wall as support, your legs stretched out before you and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“He did, he plans on taking it as soon as I give birth.“ You say darkly, already feeling protective and deep sadness that you wouldn't be able to prevent this. 

Unless… the idea was so dark, it made your stomach churn. 

Curtis was quiet for that moment watching you, worried at how quiet you had turned. He made a move to touch you and you withdrew from him. 

“Please don’t… just this once.” You asked and Curtis for the first time withdrew from you and moved to the chair at the table, rubbing a hand over his head. 

Any other time this happened, it didn't mean much to him except that his current charge was leaving. But to hear that you had his baby growing inside you made conflicting feelings. Part of him was thrilled, for whatever reason he wanted to see you grow and need him. To cradle his child to your chest and whisper sweet nothings. Warming his bed and filling his life. 

The dread followed close on that feeling, because nothing good ever happened on the train. Even if he won, you were still going to lose the child. And Curtis didn't think he could handle that pain, but more importantly, that you couldn't handle it. Pushing to a stand, he pounded on the locked door. Hard enough for you to jump “Curtis, what are you doing?” The door opened once more. 

“I need to see Wilford.” 

The guard shook his head. “Not till your appointed time.” Curtis surged forward, pushing the man back into the hallway wall and fisted his hand in his gear to lift him off his feet, snarling out. 

“I need to see Wilford now.” 

Let him come. Came a cackle in a walkie and Curtis let him go.

He didn’t look back as your panicked voice called to him once again. “CURTIS! What are you doing?” You were trying to untangle from the bed when the door slammed shut, the last view Curtis had of you was your look of confusion and panic. 

Without a word, Curtis was escorted back to Wilford’s. Being let in, Curtis didn't even hesitate as he brushed past Claude, who huffed in annoyance. “Asshole.” 

“You can’t take her child.” 

Wilford was standing up in the engine. “Isn't she just beautiful Curtis? Every part of her has a function that keeps us alive and moving. I’ve worked so hard to keep her running so smoothly” Curtis went up the steps into the hellish thing, not finding the beauty that Wilford seemed to be admiring. 

“Let her keep the baby.” He started again, clenching his hands at his sides to keep from grabbing Wilford. He knew if he did Claude would shoot him in two seconds, but the urge not to snap the man's neck burned through him.  

Wilford finally broke from whatever he was admiring and turned sharply to ascend down the steps, leaving Curtis standing there. “You two can just make more Curtis. Why this time? You never cared before what happened to the women or children.” 

“Because Y/N is staying with me, you take away that child and you will destroy a part of her.” 

“Make her easier to handle then wouldn't it? No fight left.” 

Curtis growled a bit. “She isn't a problem now Wilford.” 

“Listen, I’m not an unreasonable man. You win, you keep it all. The girl, the baby. We will change the terms of your contract. You Curtis were always one of my favorites. If it makes you happy, then I can give you this.” Wilford finally said, acting as if he was doing Curtis a favor by the way he spoke to him.

“What's the catch? If I lose?” Curtis asked knowing there would be more and Wilford shrugged. 

“Then you lose it all Curtis, just like always.” Wilford stated, snapping his fingers to have the guard come back in waiting for Curtis. “She belongs to the champion, she will lose the child and the terms of her contract with you will pass to whomever gets to claim her. Like I told your little Sweetheart, don’t mess up if you want to keep her with you that badly.” 

Curtis glowered at him, straightening to his full height. “I don't plan on it.” 

Wilford looked nothing but joyful and calculating. “Just what I wanted to hear.” 

After that Curtis was directed to leave the engine, the steel door slamming in his face. 

There is no other choice, not that there was much of one before going into the ring ever. If Curtis was to keep you safe, he was going to have to win. With that resolve, he went back to find you curled up on the bed, knees pulled up, arms hugging around yourself. As if you were trying to fold in on yourself and escape. Lifting your head when you heard the door open, Curtis could see the relieved sigh that escaped you. Your tension loosening in your hold as you shifted to sit at the edge of the bed. “What happened?” 

“I just talked to Wilford.” He made his way to the chair at the table, easing down in it for a minute while the silence stretched between you two. 

When Curtis leaned down to untie his boots, you ventured with your next question. Playing with your fingers. “About the child? Curtis if they take me away…” Your voice drifted, cracking a bit at the thought even passing your mind, let alone saying it. “Maybe it's just better that this baby doesn't come, you know? Maybe it's best to just-” 

Curtis immediately snapped his head up, eyes blazing in anger as he barked out sharply. “Don’t even go there Y/N. You and that baby are not going anywhere.” 

You quieted for a moment, looking down at your hands after his raise of his voice and you heard Curtis curse from his seat, moving to grasp your chin and make you look up at him. “Trust me okay Y/N. I'm not going to lose.” 

You wanted to, you could see the resolve in his gaze as he made you look at him. 

This sadness that was all over your face pained Curtis and he wanted nothing more than to take it away. His grasp loosened slightly on your chin, your eyes still uplifted to bore into his, but you made no move to pull away from him. He did what he could only think of to do, lowering his head, his rough lips pressed gently against yours and his hands sliding to cup your face. You were so soft in his hard life. 

This time Curtis didn't demand you to open for him, he waited, the top of his tongue tracing the seam to be allowed in. The action spun your head, and immediately the tickle enticed your lips apart, allowing him to tangle his tongue with yours. Pressing you back as Curtis continued forward, you fell back into the mess of the bed, Curtis moving over you while never breaking the kiss till you had to pull away to draw in a breath. But he didn't stall, bringing his mouth down to your jawline and the curve of your neck, pressing his knee in between your thighs so he could slot his hips there to press his weight over you. 

A while ago you learned how pointless it was to fight against him and now at this point maybe you no longer wanted to. He could give you mindless pleasure, let you forget the mess of your existence for just a few moments if you just let him. Curtis’s fingers expertly plucking away at the ties of your pants and drawing them down, muttering for you to lift yourself which you listened to, raising your hips under him while dragging your palms to brace against his back, digging in your fingers through the layers of his clothing to hold onto him. 

“Do you promise Curtis? I don't care what happens to me anymore. But this baby, Wilford cant have. Please promise me.” You gasped slightly under him as you felt his fingers start to stroke you, seeking for you to open once more for him. Arousal pooling with each expert touch heated you to a warmth that couldn't be found any other way. He dragged your shirt over your head, kissing against the top of your breasts and drawing a nipple into his mouth to suck between his teeth while you started to wither at the sensations he was drawing out of you. 

“I promise Y/N, you just focus on growing our baby, m’kay?” He grunted as his hand covered your fluttering belly, not yet round or even showing. But knowing it was in there and for once he was going to get to see it all happen stirred something in Curtis. Something he never wanted or cared for before. Flicks of his tongue traced around your nipples, the warmth of his mouth was such a contrast to the coolness in the air, it drew out these soft little gasps that delighted the man. 

Your hips started to rock into his hand while he started to finger you, stroking velvet walls while he lifted his head to watch your reactions. Always so expressive, you fisted your hands in his shirt while your head tilted into the pillows with a soft whimper, knowing that you were close. Curtis was rewarded when your eyes glazed over and warmth flooded his hand while you clamped around him. “Good Girl, don't hold back.” He praised you while tilting down to kiss you slowly, swallowing the aftermath of your orgasm, the tiny whimpers of his name and your pleas for him to finish. 

How badly you wanted him to finish in you now. 

Curtis pulled back to yank his shirt off and shove his pants down enough to release his cock, stroking himself over you. Your eyes lowered to watch him and for the first time ever, you reached to wrap your hand around his length. “Oh shit Y/N.” His voice stuttered when you squeezed slightly. He hunched over you, falling to his elbow while you pressed him between your swollen folds, looking up at him with a bite to your lip. 

“Promise me Curtis.” 

Blue eyes that were once so damn harsh and cold towards you simmered heatedly. You didn't know how you could ever think of them as cold as they sharpened with desire. Curtis pressed his forehead to yours for a moment, whispering. “On my life Y/N.”  

You gave a slight nod at his answer and his mouth pressed against yours as he started to press into you. The stretch had you gasping though, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to press your mouth back to his, his hands held onto the side of your head as he started rocking his hips, dragging himself in deep to the place only he has ever been. Dragging against your sensitive walls, you wrapped yourself around him while placing kisses against his mouth, gasping whenever he dropped his weight on you and speared back into your heat. 

With everything going on, you let yourself enjoy being with him. The push and pull, the feel of his heavier body pressing yours into the bedding beneath. His heavy length filling you till you were clamping around him to keep him there. 

Your fingers curled into his neck, twisting into the short hairs at the back of his head, and Curtis continued pressing harder grunting kisses against your shoulder, his hands curling around under your arms and grasping your shoulders to hold you close as his hips ground into you, his pelvis pressing against your clit. 

The rush of it all, the feeling of him kissing you so passionately while he kept claiming you to spiral under him was so much. A cold fire in your belly and the flutters in you turned to clamping, trying to hold him to you while you came. 

“That's right sweet girl, just let it happen.” He grunted once more when your body under him locked, twitching as you dug into the back of his neck and your knees gripped his hips to rock with him. His hand loosened on your shoulder and pressed between your bodies, his palm slightly pressing against your stomach to feel how full you were from him and then fell between your bodies to rub your clit to bring you to arousal again. 

“Curtis-” You whined and he nudged your head back, sucking on your neck, pressing faster. 

“One more, that's it. I know it feels good.” He hissed feeling you buck underneath him. “Feel s’good, right?” 

You nodded your head hurriedly while he played you so expertly, all those other times he had grown to learn what made you wither and whine for him, the only man to ever make you feel like this. Which after the stress of the day, you needed to go mindless. “So-so good.” 

Nip of teeth with a touch of his tongue, had you arching, the room filled with the harsh sounds of his body colliding with yours and the squeak of the mattress underneath you. Your toes curled and you sobbed out, dropping your hand to cover your mouth to keep your orgasm from bouncing off the metal walls, but he jerked your hand down, filling your mouth with his tongue. Harsh thrusts turned to grind out his own release, warmth flooding you in an all to familiar pleasure. 

You dug fingers into his shoulders and dragged him over you, quivering underneath him while pressing your face into his chest, willing your heart to start to slow while his rat-a-tat-tat rapidly in his own chest, deep inhales expanding his chest and pushing you into the mattress while he gasped for air. Curtis went to move, but you clutched tighter. “Dont, please not yet.” 

Reaching underneath him, he pushed to an elbow and fisted his hand in your hair gently to pull your head away to look up at him. “I'm not, just be patient Y/N.” 

Curtis eased down enough so he wasn't smothering you, but could lay his head on your chest, his arms looped around your midsection. His hips kept your thighs pinned underneath him and his belly pressed against your waist, keeping you under him. 

“Soon I won't be able to lay like this on you, you know.” He pointed out after a few minutes and you slipped your hand tentative over his scalp and along the back of his neck. Another first he thought to himself while he closed his eyes to enjoy the way you were willingly touching him. 

“I know… I actually never knew I liked the way it felt.” You admitted, having always pulled away from him before after they finished. 

Curtis didn’t either, sex had always been a means to an end, there was no intimacy really in it for him. It was a necessity to survive, so he never allowed himself to enjoy it like this, it was simply good in the moment and when it was over, it was over. It never really occurred to him that it could be this simple moment of bliss. But feeling the softness of your body just cradle him so easily, your warmth envelops him into a lull of relaxation. Well, maybe he could get used to feeling this way. 

Feeling this way with you. 

“Curtis… I have to get up.” You said after a while with what he hoped was regret in your voice. Planting his hands against the mattress, he pulled himself off to lay at the side while you shifted out from under him to sit on the edge of the bed and reach down to grab something to cover yourself with. 

“Why do you do that? Cover yourself?” He asked, while you slipped the shirt over your head so that it pooled down around your thighs. You glanced over your shoulder, where he laid stretched out, comfortable in his own skin. 

“Why wouldn't I? It's not like I'm anything special Curtis. Also it's safer in the tail end to not get noticed.” You said while pulling to a stand and disappearing in the bathroom. Curtis frowned to himself, he could understand not getting noticed, but the other he couldn't agree with. He was still genuinely surprised that you were a virgin when you were brought to him. 

When you came back out, running your hands over your shirt and moving to crawl back in the bed, Curtis reached over and grasped your chin in his forefinger and thumb. “That's not true Y/N.” 

You blinked at him wide eyed, confused in such an innocent way. The corners of his mouth tugged a bit seeing you blink at him owlishly. “What's not true?” You wriggled into the dip in the mattress you had left earlier. 

“You claim you're not anything special. You are beautiful Sweetheart. Especially now that your health is returning. I'm not the only one to notice.” His fingers loosened and trailed along your cheeks that were filling out and were always so warm against his fingertips. 

You huffed a bit and your eyes went downcast while settling back in the bedding. “I don't know if that is a good thing.” You wrinkled your nose and Curtis reached over to let his hand settle on your stomach. 

“You are not going anywhere.”

First Trimester

Changes started so subtly. One morning your stomach turned at the sight of eggs Curtis brought that had you sprinting to the bathroom and over the toilet. You grasped the sides as you gagged over it, and Curtis cussed while placing the tray down, following you in to stand behind you, pulling hair back and rubbing your back. Once you stopped gasping and fell back to sit on your ankles, he let go of you and went to the bathroom sink to fill a cup with some water for you to clear your mouth with. Taking it, you swished some water and spat it out before handing it back to Curtis. “Thank you.” 

“What was it?” He questioned while giving the cup a rinse and reached down to help you to stand. 

“Uhh, the eggs maybe?” You took a deep breath just thinking about it and felt your stomach roll again while moving to the sink and grabbed the tooth brush. 

“Want me to get rid of them?” 

“Can you Curtis?” 

He gave a smile and rubbed your back once before exiting the bathroom, giving you some privacy. Going back out, you saw the offending pile of eggs was gone. Alot of it was trial and error. You soon learned that you had a constant craving for milk as well, which Curtis was sure to start adding to all the meals he brought you. 

You craved back rubs and shoulder rubs, which Curtis was good at you found out. As well as being so tired. All the time. You took several naps throughout the day, which at first you apologized for. Curling up in bed to sit whenever Curtis caught you dozing off. One day with a sketch pad stretched out before him, making lazy swipes with his pencil, he gave a shake of his head. “Sleep. You have to listen to your body and right now you are growing a person, no wonder you are tired.” When you started to protest by throwing the blankets off you, Curtis gave you a hard stare till you sunk back down, blinking back at him. 

“You are being serious.” 

“Aren't I always Y/N? Finish your nap.” He said curtly and went back to his sketch. The sun heated through the glass and the beams fell over you, lulling you back to sleep. When you woke up later, Curtis was gone. But his notepad was left, which when you got up, you leaned over it to see what he had been working on. 

A sketch of you stretched out in bed, your hair falling around your sleeping face. You could tell he had been practicing his shading as he did it from several angles, and one where you had rolled to your hip, sure to focus on your hand pressing against the slight bump you had.

When he came back, Curtis would offer to take you around the train as long as you weren't tired. At first you declined, worried about further run-ins with people like Grey, New Years Eve not far from your mind. But the more times he offered and you grew restless, you took him up on the offer. 

The greenhouse car was one you always looked forward to, the natural lighting in it for the vegetation soaking into your body, the air felt fresh from the plants and you would wander the aisles to attempt to learn from the greenhouse workers what they were growing. Curtis simply watched as you started to get braver, ask questions and help with the weeding, just wanting to feel the dirt. 

One day you two were sitting under the trees, Curtis nodding off in the warmth, and you were reading a new book out loud to him when you eased the book shut. 

“Curtis? I need some water.” You mentioned and his eyes snapped open, pulling himself up to sit. You would have just gone yourself to get it, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. So you stayed there while he pushed to a stand. 

“How about a snack to? You haven't eaten much today and I saw them picking the cherry tomatoes when we first came in.” He inquired. 

Giving a nod, he soon dipped out of the aisle to get what you asked for and you tilted your head back to relax against the tree trunk. But your peaceful moment was short lived. A shadow passed over you and a snickering voice taunted you to spring your eyes open and pull your legs back. “Well well well, Curtis left his little pet to wander around all alone?” Grey moved to a squat in front of you, a few of his friends crowding around behind him, all leering down at you while you tried to shrink away. Your tongue swelled up, unable to speak. When Grey reached a hand out to touch you, you pulled further away. 

“Don’t.” You finally were able to say, causing him to jerk his head back and laugh deeply at your attempt to put space between you two. 

“Oh you shouldn't be scared of me, I was your friend on New Years remember? Curtis is the one who beat you, not me.” 

You folded your arms around your legs to hold yourself away from him, but Grey wasn't allowing you to shrink away too much, his hand moving to touch your knee, grinning at the way you jerked. “Don't touch me.” 

Grey shuffled closer, the men behind him closing in further till the space of the greenhouse seemed to no longer exist. 

“You're like a little unsoiled dove, so innocent in all this. I promise you though once I take you, you won't be able to play this act anymore.” Grey said coldly, his gaze glinting with promise as it raked over your face. He was close enough to feel his hot sour breath washing over your face. 

The tension stretched between you two and you felt like you were going to snap when a low deep voice came from behind. “Step the fuck back from her.” The group parted enough to show Curtis striding closer the handful of cherry tomatoes in his palm crushed to drip the juices and seeds from between his fingers and the tin cup of water sloshing over the edge as he sped up, pushing past the others to grasp the back of Grey's collar and fling him back. Grey easily straightened, pulling an innocent look as Curtis moved to block you from them. You scrambled to get up, using the back of his shirt to pull yourself to a stand and stay behind him. A barrier between you and Grey. 

“I thought I told you not to go near her again?” Curtis’s rage was laced in his tone and Grey shrugged a bit. 

“Just saying hello Curtis, I missed seeing your girl since the party.” You eased around Curtis a bit and Grey caught sight of you, aiming a wink towards you. “Till next time Y/N.” 

You pressed in behind Curtis, your gaze looking down the aisle to see members of the greenhouse take interest. From afar it would appear to be just a passing of words, and the tremors going through Curtis told you how he was holding back from attacking Grey. If he did, it would all seem unprovoked, Curtis words and yours against Grey and his crowd. It wouldn't end good for Curtis. 

Curtis watched long enough to make sure they were out of sight and turned swiftly towards you, wiping his hand against his jacket till the tomato residue was off his palms and touched your face afterwards, tilting you to look up at him. “He didn’t touch you did he?” 

A firm shake no answered him and he offered the mug of water which you tilted back to calm your nerves and moisten your mouth. “No Curtis, not really.” 

“Son of a bitch.” He clenched his hand at his side, looking over his shoulder again and you reached to press your hand to his chest, bringing his focus back on you. 

“Let’s just leave here, please?” Last thing you wanted was Curtis’s anger to sit with him the rest of the day. 

He took a deep breath to let it settle in his chest before turning to you blinking up at him and part of him softened. “Come on… Got somewhere else you might like to see.” Wrapping an arm around you, you followed along with him as you two made your way out of the gardens aisle. Your fingers played at his sleeve nervously as you glanced behind once more, but Grey was nowhere to be seen. The silver train door whooshed and crossed into another threshold. Once it closed behind you, you turned your focus to the area Curtis had taken you. 

It was filled with wild greenery, and the echoes of songbird calls bounced off the towering glass of the train's ceiling. Your lips split into a grin when you stepped from Curtis hold, your gaze lifted to see brilliant colored birds darting around one another. “I remember coming through here when I was brought to the front, what is its purpose?” 

“An aviary, the last birds on earth that we know of.” Curtis informed you, his head tilting back to look up in the treetops crowding against the glass of the train, straining for freedom that would forever be denied them from growing to their full size.

Curtis watched your child like wonder as birds filtered down to land on you, tiny trills and warbles inquiring as they inspected you. You stretched out your arms for other curious birds, hoping down to peck at your palm looking for food. You happened to giggle with the ticklish feeling and to Curtis it was far better then all the songbirds in the aviary. 

You were such a light in Curtis’s life now. These kinds of moments where you seemed to forget that you were held against your will but found a reason to laugh, your eyes bright when they looked at him and you danced into a small circle, the birds lifting off of you in a flurry of cries and wings, so you could come back to him excitedly. Curtis couldn't believe that he once saw you as a job, something he had to tolerate. 

Now he didn't want anyone else sharing his space with him. 

“There were so many Curtis! I didn't know there could be that many on the train…” Your hands fluttered back and forth with your words, rambling about how much you loved the moment, thanking Curtis for bringing you when he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and his eyes bright while looking at you. It paused you in surprise as his head lowered against yours and pressed his mouth against yours. This was a different kiss then any he's given you before. 

But this was a gentleness that was asking permission, his hold cradling and gentled, slightly rough lips easily pressing against yours and the tip of his tongue just swiping as in a way of saying ‘Please?’ 

Your hands braced against his chest and slid around behind him, allowing him to swipe in and roll his tongue with yours, pulling you in closer to him till your body was flushed with his own, his hold sliding from your cheeks and sliding down your back. When the two of you parted, foreheads leading against one another, panting slightly. 

That kiss simply took the air from your lungs and you could feel it meant something more this time. 

More than being forced together or trying to comfort. This one had something behind it. Part of it scared you that maybe this man meant more to you then he had before. 

Second Trimester

You sat on the edge of the bed, a hand braced against the curve of your stomach, waiting. Curtis was nearby, nose in a book but he noticed that you had moved up to sit. A curious glance looked over the spine of the book. “Whats going on?” He questioned as you sighed a bit, sliding your hand to another spot, scrunching your nose. 

“He was just moving, I swear he was getting ready to kick.” you looked down at your now protruding belly, rolling your shirt up enough to slide your palm against it. “But feels like he has settled down.” Curtis chuckled softly and set the book aside on the table, moving to kneel on the floor before you and ease his hand around the sides, exploring for himself. 

“That's because he's decided to treat his mama well.” 

You snort a bit and roll your eyes. “More like he's saving it for tonight when I'm trying to sleep.” 

Curtis smirked a bit, and rested his hands against your thighs, winking at you. “Well he does take after his dad.” 

You shoved at his shoulder with a scoff, leaving Curtis laughing heartily while falling back to rest on his ankles looking up at you. Moments like these he seemed so boyish, his laugh was genuine and rare. But the longer you two lived together, the more you got to hear it. It was a pleasant sound, one that seemed to make you forget for a moment that you two were stuck together in a glorified prison. “We keep calling him he, do you think he is a he?” 

Curtis shrugged a bit. “Honestly, boy or girl doesn't matter to me. But yea...I think it's a boy. Just feels right when I think of seeing him for the first time.” He admitted admiring the glimpse of skin showing where your shirt had ridden up. 

It was also easier letting him see more of you. It probably helps that during your pregnancy, you had cravings. Serious cravings. 

Which even now started to curl in your lower belly and clench your thighs slightly under his hands that still rested against them. He felt it and arched a curious brow as you shyly looked away as if distracted. But he knew, he shuffled in closer and slid his palms warmly back up to your belly. “You know you just have to ask.” 

Caught. You knew you were caught and you shifted slightly, twisting your fingers together. “I don't wanna ask though. I mean it's not like your job to have to anymore.” 

“Y/N- will you just lay back? You want it and I don't mind giving it.” He instructed, pressing you to lay back on the bed, leaving your legs dangling over the edge of the bed. His hands grasped in the band of your shorts and started to draw them down to leave your lower half naked and you folded your hands together to rest on your stomach, looking down your body to watch Curtis. 

“You may not mind, but I still don't want you to feel like you gotta.” You rambled on as he brushed his chin against the top of your thighs to nudge them apart and drew one leg up over his shoulder, brushing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Your damn kid is making me horny, but I have other ways to handle it whenever-” 

Curtis rolled his eyes in amusement to your rambling. Honestly he would be happy taking care of you like this, seeing you pregnant was driving him crazy with want. Knowing he made you need him so much, be able to take care of you and see you satisfied in his bed. Right now nothing was better than seeing you post orgasm bliss. You were still going on above him, but he stopped listening, his goal now to make you forget about feeling guilty for wanting him. Flushing kisses up your thigh and he brought the other one over his shoulder, he heard his name while he dragged the tip of his nose through your curls and to your folds that were starting to glisten with arousal. 

“Are you listening, Curtis?” you voiced above him and he snickered a bit while spreading your folds apart and lapping along your quivering cunt, hearing your question turn into a gentle moan. 

“I was, but now I'm not Darling, because honestly eating you out is my main priority right now.” He lapped again, sucking on your outer folds and was rewarded with another gasp above him and your hand falling to his head, curling your fingers against his scalp. 

“Do that again?” You breathed out and you felt his tongue curl through you once more, just making you pulse and arousal seep from you that he was quick to collect with a growl as he sucked on you. You let your eyes close and mind clear to just the sensations he was creating in you. His fingers massaged the tense muscles inside your thighs as he looped his arms over the top of your thighs and spread them just a bit wider, burying his face in between your legs. He found your clit and proceeded to tease it in just that way that had you arching your hips for him and whimpering into your shoulder till you couldn't keep quiet anymore. 

“Oh god Curtis… Curtis…” You started chanting his name while he played with you, continued pressing his tongue in all those places that made your core clench and thighs quiver and strain in his hold trying to clasp around his ears. 

“Just let it happen Y/N, why are you holding back?” He teased you, the graze of his cheeks scratching along the inside of your thighs that he released so they clasped around his head and your hands started to press his face into your center. He plunged his tongue into you, teasing your fluttering walls till they were driving you blissed out, rocking into his face till you finally did as he said, letting go and letting your orgasm wash over you till you were floating happily in pleasure, a sigh escaping you as your toes curled into his shoulders then they collapsed over his back, humming out your bliss. 

Curtis rolled his shoulders to let your legs fall off, one last lap through your core and a kiss to the top of your mound before he sat back and massaged your thighs till the tension seeped through them. Planting his hands on the mattress to pull to a stand, looming over you as he pushed your shirt up to kiss the curve of your belly. 

“Better?” He asked as he fell to the other side of the bed, his hand massaging your hip, the other hand running through his beard and you slid an eye open to see him watching you for an answer. 

“Thank you, he's settled down.” Your hand slid over your curve and he mimicked your touch, feeling for himself. 

“Perhaps he decided taking a nap was better than being aware of his parents intimate time.” He teased and you covered your face in embarrassment, sighing. 

“You are terrible Curtis.” 

He snorted with a grin while pushing up to a stand. “That I am. Alright, time for me to go to the gym. Do you need anything before I go Y/N?” 

You shook your head while pushing up to a stand yourself and brushing past Curtis to reach into the little fridge to grab an apple. “Nah, I'm good. Afterwards do you think we could go walking somewhere? My back has been killing me and the baths are not helping so much anymore. Walking around seems to help though.” 

He gathered what he needed while nodding. “Sure, we will do that when I get back.” Curtis promised before heading out, and you plopped down in the seat he occupied earlier, easing back a bit and picking up the book he had been engrossed with earlier, looking to see where he was. Taking bites of the apple, you suddenly felt the baby start to wriggle again, and this time he gave the kicks you were expecting earlier. 

“Oh now you wanna be a wriggler. Apparently your father was wrong, you have been awake.” You chuckled a bit while settling back. 

A whoosh of doors announced Wilford as he stepped into the enclosed space off the engine. Humming to himself as his eyes glanced over the screens to different sections of the train. Everyone was right where they needed to be, his eyes glinted gleefully appreciating the order of Snowpiercer. Everything so wonderfully balanced, just as it always has been. He was there god, giving them life. Each one he looked at was absolutely perfect, all constructed by him. Wilford viewed them as stories, each one he could maneuver in the way he wanted. Settling down in his seat, he twisted his chair towards his prize tv screen, the biggest and clearest one. 

On the screen was a black and white version of Curtis’s room. So far Wilford had let you and Curtis have moments of domesticity. Let you two get comfortable, sure that your lives were going to continue being peaceful.

Wilford grinned coldly while leaning forward to trace a finger over your form sitting in the chair, singing to your belly. 

“That's right Dear… you keep on taking care of my baby so sweetly. You will be the perfect mother to my son.”

[honey-coloured-passion]

Surprise! (Sapnap x Reader)

Request: “Sapnap X Reader where he surprises the reader while she’s streaming”

Words: 1.5k

“Hello chat how are your days going? Good, bad? Finals!? Oh my gosh I hate finals dude I’m so sorry f to pay respects,” you paused to stretch and adjust your headset as you had just started your stream. “I’m kinda just bored today chat so what should we do? Mods can you all run a poll or something?” You glanced at your discord and saw messages from Sap.

“Hey angel!”

“Oh you’re streaming!”

“You look cute on stream” 

You rolled your eyes but chat caught you blushing and saw that Sapnap was viewing the stream, and immediately lost it. They’d been shipping the two of you for months, but little did they know you guys had been dating for three months, since you met up in person for the first time. It hadn’t felt like the right time to announce to the world and you’d wanted to establish your relationship privately before telling the fans, but that didn’t mean you’d had a couple slip ups leading the fans to theorize. 

This included you calling Sapnap various forms of babe, bubs, Nick, love etc. Same went for Sap who gets teased for endlessly rushing to your defense on the SMP and responding casually when you call him a pet name, almost like he does it all the time... yeah, chat was on to the two of you. 

“Shut up guys and tell me what we’re doing today! We could go grind netherite tools and chill? How does that sound?” the SMP always got a resounding yes, and just like that you were off, the SMP had won the poll anyways. 

You messaged Sap in discord, “wanna call for the stream?” and quickly he was on the call with you. 

“Hello Mr. Sapitus Napitus, how’s your day going on this fine Friday?” you laughed as you ran through the nether, having just collected enough wool and planks to make beds. “It’s going, I was bored as heck so I wound up here, what about you?” You knew the longer end to that story, his family was out and he thought editing would take longer but now he was stuck at home. “Same same, I’m chillin and got bored after scrolling on Tiktok for like two hours so now I’m here!” You moved on, blowing up the nether hunting for netherite scrap while talking with chat.

A familiar notification went off, “water check from, um ,GogySupremacy420,000, oh my god what a username. Alright everyone drink some water! This is good I haven’t drank water since like breakfast.” you heard Sap pipe up, “you’ve eaten since breakfast right?” you rolled your eyes, “nope I’ll eat after stream don’t worry Simpnap” tacking on the nickname earned a scoff from the simp himself. “Not a simp,” he answered, giving you a punch in the game making you hit him back. After a mini fight ending in you threatening to place a bed and effectively kill the both of you, you were back to mining. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go drive and grab something want me to stay on call though?” your head whipped to discord to look for another message, knowing Sap didn’t have anywhere to be tonight. But there was nothing. “Oh I don’t mind, chat and I enjoy your company!” you said with a grin. You’d made it to enchanting now, having found all the netherite you needed.

As you sat on the spider spawner you heard Sap get in the car, the familiar beep of him unlocking his car and the revving of the engine making you laugh, “you’re car is literally so old I’m surprised it starts,” you heard Sapnap scoff, “old?! don’t you dare speak to her like that, she’s beautiful,” you rolled your eyes, Callahan who must’ve been on your stream quickly piped up in the game chat “Y/n is jealousss!” now it was your turn to be offended, “you think I’d be jealous of a bucket of rusty bolts and oil? No chance,” you laughed, checking chat as they were spamming JealousChamp. “Whatever you say ba- Y/n,” Sapnap played it off with a cough and you quickly changed the subject to how much XP you would need for all your tools. 

“Hey I’ve gotta go on deafen real quick be back soon!” Sap’s voice flooded your mic, he must’ve brough the mic close to his mouth because his smooth and deep voice curled around the mic perfectly, sending shivers down your spine as his warm tone filled your headphones. “B-bye” you choked out, pretending to adjust your headset as you continued killing mobs. “So chat, got any questions to pass this alone time?” you watched the chat speed up, hoping your mods would filter out poor questions. “Favorite. color? Easy who knows? Yup! You guys know me too well. Ooh favorite fast food place? This is hard cuz I don’t wanna say something you all don’t know but I can tell you guys my McDonalds order because it’s immaculate. Do I know Sapnap’s order? This is a good test you guys, I’m pretty sure it’s like an ungodly amount of spicy McChickens and a Dr. Pepper but I swear he changes it like every day.” you laughed, reading out other people’s orders then moved to debating if the icecream machine is actually broken or if the workers are just lazy. They’re lazy, confirmed by workers in chat apparently. 

“I’m back but I have to go in like five minutes, did you miss me?” Sap’s voice flooded your headphones again. As you adjusted his volume you teased, “hmm nope!” to which he began pouting making you laugh at his “baby rage”. Just as you were finishing with enchants on your axe he had to go. “Don’t miss me too much I’ll talk to you later, chat behave yourself I know you all will miss me but just leave y/n open in a muted tab,” he teased making you roll your eyes, “whatever we’re gonna have a super secret conversation after you’re gone about how we only let you on the stream out of pity right chat?” you couldn’t stop smiling and laughing through the teasing. “Okay okay, I actually gotta go, see you soon,” you bid Sapnap farewell and returned to joking with chat, turning on media share to pass some time as you reacted to animatics, hilarious compilations, and the occasional y/n x sapnap video making chat light up as you laughed through the videos. 

As you watched the videos and killed cave spiders you got a text from Sapnap. 

You still streaming?

Yup! Where’d you end up going? you replied.

Open your door and find out

Your breath hitched. “One- one minute chat,” you pulled your headset off and heard a small rustling in your hallway. As soon as you tabbed out of the game you stood up, rushing off camera to fling your door open and,

There he was. His smile was infectious and you couldn’t help yourself from screaming and running into his open arms. As he held you, rocking back and forth, you heard him mumbled. “I missed you”  Into your ear while you clung to him. “I missed you more,” you whispered back, Finally, you released him enough to peck his lips, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “I got food cuz you said you didn’t eat and I figured if I had time I wanted to spend it with you!” your heart practically melted, taking a bag of food in one hand and holding Sapnap’s hand with your other you realized you forgot to mute or end stream.

“Um, so I’m still streaming... what do we do?” you glanced up nervously but Sapnap just started laughing, “oh my god I guess I can say hi so chat doesn’t lose it’s mind,” you swallowed nervously, glancing down at your phone you had been tagged in endless clips of you running off camera then screaming about 15 seconds later. “Yeah better give them an answer,” you giggled.

Rushing back to your setup you saw chat blowing up as you put your headset back on. “Heyyy guys! So yeah, um I guess I can just show you that, we have a special guest!” You gestured to Sapnap to come into frame, pulling up a chair as he sat down next to you. “Yeah I gave y/n a visit cuz I was bored. Hi chat, hello, hello! You guys are going really fast dang,” Sapnap gripped your hand under the table, you squeezed back, leaning into his embrace. “So um, I think Sap and I are gonna hangout, right?” you glanced at him and he nodded, he really hadn’t stopped smiling since he got to your place. “Yup! Maybe if there’s time we’ll go live again I’m not sure! Kinda spur of the moment yeah?” you finished your thought. Saying goodbye to chat you ended stream just a few minutes later.

“We’ve really gotta tell people soon, I wanna be able to hold your hand on camera not just off,” Sapnap said between bites of food. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay right?” You had always been nervous about stans hating you or people trying to get in between your relationship. “As long as I’ve got you I’m more than fine, I’m- I don’t know I guess I’m pogchamp,” you shook your head, “god you are such a dork,” Sapnap scrunched his nose with a laugh, “I’m your dork though so I’m so special!” and you couldn’t agree more. <3

[kangaroo-sniper-imagine]

The Mercs catching you , uhhh, “self-loving”

Spy

“Need help? Hon hon hon hon~”

You think this dude wouldn’t immediately offer himself up? He came in under the innocent presumption you happen to hear him walking past your room and you had a question, but now you gotta deal with a horny frenchman.

If you don’t want help, he’ll smirk and sigh, but leaves you to your own devices if you have a device (i'm really proud of that joke please laugh). If you do want help, expect teasing galore and missing whatever activities that team had planned for that evening. If he completely ruined the mood he’ll apologize and ask to “make it better.” good luck with ladies and gents.

Sniper

Poor Mick would just walk into your room, bored and wanting to hang out with you, and accidentally catches you, uuuuuh, well you get the idea.

He blushes and immediately shuts the door. After a moment, he asks “Need help?” what a tool.

He isn’t so much embarrassed by it, everyone jerks off occasionally; but Mick’s got a high sex drive and it doesnt take much to get him ready to go, know what I mean? If you tell him to fuck off, he will without a second thought. Doesn’t bring it up cuz he’s nice

Scout

HA! You broke Jeremy congrats. He heard you call his name from down the hall so he just busted into your room, thinking you were hurt to see you doing the one man tango and it’s “Error 404: Jeremy not found”

Probs gets a nosebleed, maybe faints from the suddenness of it all. Most likely just stares at you stock still and freaking out internally cuz shit how does one proceed in a relationship after something like this

Honestly, you might have to comfort him, he didn’t mean to embarrass you and he feels really bad about barging in like that. He knocks now tho

Soldier

Hahhahahahhahaha this is rough for both sides, lbr. When Jane barged in to your room because he faintly heard you call out to him, he was expecting you to be injured on the floor or something, not with your hands down your pants.

The rough part is, he keeps ASKING what you were doing, and you have to explain in detail, cus bucket head won’t get it the first few times. When it DOES get through his thick skull, he just nods to himself, turns heel, and leave the room

Refuses to bring it up, will cut you off if you try to bring it up; Jane is just super embarrassed for it he’s so sorry

Medic

Wouldn’t notice at first. Doctor Chucklehead over here just strided into your shared bedroom, shirt covered in blood, walking past you to the sink that was oddly in the corner of your room (weird but convenient considering Ludwig’s… habits)

After the situation finally settles into his peripheral, he just sort of… walks back out. Makes no eye contact, says nothing, his weird smile plastered onto his face.

Doesn’t come back in for 2 hours, and knocks before entering. “Can I come in now, schatzi?” He enters every room you’re in like this for a month, and it takes you a whole month to realize that he’s fucking with you. It was embarrassing at first but Ludwig is a tease first and foremost and now sees it as an opportunity to mess with you

Heavy

Your room is actually pretty close to his, and the walls are pretty thin (unfortunately). One moan was a little too loud and your gentle giant boyfriend knocks on your door, asking if you’re alright.

Mikhail grew up with three sisters and his mom, he’s probably the only one who knows not to barge in. Doesn't mean he WON”T come in! Just means you’ve got a few minutes of a weird conversation where you give Misha vague answers when he tries to question what you’re doing while you try to make yourself presentable.

He doesn’t figure out what you were doing, but he gets the feeling that you were embarrassed by the whole ordeal and doesn’t bring it up

Engineer

Dell, the sweet southern gentleman that he is, upon seeing you like THAT, completely on accident, breaks him. He loses all his brain cells, completely forgets to function normally.

You tell him to close the door, he does, but he enters the room first. You tell him to go away and he asks where. The whole time he’s red in the face and just becomes a bumbling mess in general

Take a day or two to look you in the eye and he keeps apologizing to you. You both feel like the victim is ridiculous; you’ll laugh about it later, but for right now y’all are acting like right fools

Pyro

Opens the door, surveys the situation, and shuts the door

Doesn’t bring it up, acts like nothing happened.

I don’t think Pyro is sexual person, and doesn’t really react to this situations, they just leave

Demo

“Need help? Lolololol”

Apologizes immediately and leaves, chuckling. He’s pretty comfortable with things like this. He does it, you do, he accidentally walked in on Scout doing it, it’s whatever.

If you feel embarrassed, he’ll try to convince you not to be. It/s totally normal and he wants you to know you shouldn’t be ashamed about it.

[plus-size-reader]

Bad Day

Peter Parker x Platonic Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1430 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Peter is really stressed about school and avenging, so reader decides to cheer him up by giving him some hugs and cookies. Reader is like a mother figure to him.

——————————————————————————————————

Peter had a lot on his plate.

In general, being sixteen was hard for anyone, but Peter wasn't exactly anyone. While he was juggling homework, the social challenges that came with high school, crushes, and all those regular teen things, he was also now trying to become an avenger.

You knew those struggles rather well, having been on the arm of the billionaire playboy himself, Tony Stark for quite some time. You saw how much this lifestyle could take out of a person and Tony had been doing it a lot longer than Pete.

It was no wonder he was having a hard time.

Still, you knew better than to just shrug it off like everyone else seemed to do. They figured he would make the best of it like they all had in time, and would be fine before you knew it. It was probably true, to be fair, but you didn't want to risk it.

Since Peter had been staying at the Stark tower these last few days, the two of you had hung out quite a bit. It was bound to happen, with just you, Peter, and Tony in the huge building all the time. With Tony constantly working on more machines and mechanics in the basement, you had turned your focus to the young man.

He was a brilliant kid with a lot to offer and it was no wonder that Tony was so enthralled by him. He showed a lot of promise as both a hero and an engineer, not to mention he was just a cool guy.

Everything he did seemed to remind you of Tony when the two of you met, before his responsibilities and the state of the world got him down. Maybe that was why you wanted to take care of him when he came home, in a huff.

In any case, you didn't even ask any questions, immediately wrapping the young male in a gentle hug. "What's going on Hun?" You wondered, knowing it could have been any of a thousand things.

It was kind of a stupid question, you knew that, but you didn't care. Peter was the kind of person who liked to talk it out, especially when something was on his mind and you certainly didn't have a problem listening.

If anything, it would help take your mind off of all the things you were worrying about.

"There's just so much going on. I feel like everyone is counting on me and I keep letting them down" Peter huffed, pulling back from your hug after a few moments. You knew where he was coming from.

The worst part was that there was nothing you could really do for him. There was a lot on his shoulders right now, but there was only so much anyone could do to lessen the strain.

Even knowing that though, you had an idea.

Their intellect wasn't the only thing Peter and Tony shared. They also had a lot in common as far as snacks went and you knew just what to do.

Without missing a beat, you tossed Peter's bag on the floor by the couch, dragging the young man to the kitchen. It was huge, mostly unused for quite some time until you moved in. However, that wasn't the purpose of your rush today.

"You wanna know a secret about Tony?" You hummed, speaking in a hushed tone like a teenager with a secret. It wasn't that big of a deal, really, but you just felt like sharing something like this with Peter. Making it a little thing you two shared just made it more special.

...and you were right.

Even though Peter was still feeling that internal dread that he just couldn't seem to shake today, he nodded.

"When the big man had a bad day starting out, we would drop everything and make some chocolate chip cookies. Do you want to try that?" You suggested. It wasn't a perfect solution of course and wouldn't make everything better.

Though, a little bit of chocolate couldn't hurt.

"Then we can go to the game room and play some of that new stuff we got?" When Peter had moved in, you went with Happy to stock up on all those teen boy things he'd need.

You weren't a teenage boy, so it wasn't completely foolproof, but you'd done pretty well if you said so yourself.

You and Tony had yet to have children of your own but it was fair to say that you took the arrival of the boy as permission to take him in as your own. You had went a little overboard but it didn't hurt anybody.

If anything, Tony had teased you a little but had no problem letting you put in a whole game room in one of the guest bedrooms on the third floor. You'd gutted the whole thing, all in an effort to make Pete feel more at home.

...and you were glad for it now.

Maybe it seemed like a bit much on a good day but when he was struggling, the young man wanted nothing more than to just chill out some in a comfy recliner and a plate full of warm cookies.

In fact, there were few things that sounded better than that.

"That sounds good. We can do that" Peter agreed, hoping that would help, though even if he didn't, he doubted he'd be able to tell you that. There was just something about your light and supportive demeanor that he couldn't deny.

You had quickly become a part of his family and there was no going back from that now. You two had bonded past any sort of friendship he'd ever had.

He respected you and cared for you in the same way he did Tony, except you weren't as intimidating as your partner was. Maybe it had something to do with his aunt May raising him, but Peter found himself acquainting you to an almost mother figure.

He enjoyed your company and that once increased after the upcoming evening.

Tony spend most of the time after waking up in his garage, working on a few new prototypes until he could hardly feel his fingers but all in all, he felt good.

There were few things that thrilled the man as much as making things from idea to physical medium, as if he'd pulled it straight from his head. However, that was all gone from his mind when he heard that yelling upstairs.

He wasn't entirely sure what it was but it all became clear when he turned the corner after heading that way to find the you and Peter hidden away behind the door of the new game room.

The crew had just recently finished the whole install, and you didn't waste a moment before getting him in there to break in the new system.

"Knock it off! I almost had it" you scoffed, bumping the younger man with your shoulder gently, trying to get the upper hand. The two of you had been playing Mario kart since you'd finished baking, and he'd won almost every time.

Peter only laughed, holding his controlled just out of your reach, still somehow managing to clear the corner without bumping the wall.

Tony stood there for a few minutes, watching the two of you just mess around and have a good time before clearing his throat, knocking on the door frame to make himself known.

"Hey, I didn't hear you come up" you grinned, swiveling around to meet his eyes, before whipping back around to focus on your before objective. It wasn't until Peter beat you that you paused the game completely.

"Do you want a cookie, Mr.Stark? Y/N and I made them" Peter offered, holding out the plate to the older man, with a grin.

At the mention, Tony looked at you, his eyebrow cocked in question. You liked to bake, he knew that, but you hadn't done it in quite a while. At his look, you only shrugged.

"Speaking of, somebody left flour on the counter" you laughed, only half kidding. The two of you had gotten a little carried away, joking and messing around.

Tony briefly took a moment to decide if he cared or not before shrugging it of himself, taking the chocolate chip cookie Peter offered.

The kitchen was a disaster and you were a little salty about losing in Mario Kart but at least Peter was in a better mood. At the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.

[cherryrogers]

➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

[docheros]

flower shop/tattoo studio au: new beginnings

Anthony just opened his floriculture, and from everything he planned, he didn’t expect to see a tattooed greek god™ working on the other side of the street.

Hope you’re all awake and I want to see all of you commenting because I spent almost 2 months writing this and it’s only the first chapter

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It was a sunny day, hot and with few clouds in the sky, perhaps the perfect beach day at another time. But this wasn’t a beach day, because at that very moment, Anthony was too busy organizing the last details of his new floriculture, since everything had to be just like what he and his grandmother imagined. It was the first time that he would open the store and, if all went well, fulfill his oldest dream.

Fluffing the cushions on the small sofa, he remembered how lucky he was to have gotten that spot in a popular neighborhood. It wasn’t an absurdly large property, but enough for the pink balcony, a small sofa with an armchair and lots, lots plants. Maybe in the future, he would put a little table and some sweets on the outside, so that people could also enjoy some snacks.

He sighed when he saw the whole tidy room, turning to the clock and seeing that there were still five minutes to go before the opening. Before he could check the flowers again, a knock on the door caught his eye. He turned, finding Marvin practically glued to the window.

— Get out of there! — Anti opened the door laughing, giving space for the friend to enter — Did your mother ever teach you about not supporting yourself on glass?

— Don't worry, this window is armored! — They unlocked their phone, hugging the other’s neck — Let's take a selfie so I can do the commercial for your flower shop!

— And since when are you a digital influencer? — He let go of the hug before Marvin took his picture — I thought your followers just liked to see animals on your profile.

— I also have a profile for me, okay? — she sat on the couch, waving her freshly dyed hair — I'm a beauty guru.

Anti just rolled his eyes, he had more important things to do instead of answering Marvin. For example, turn the front plate to indicate that it was open.

— Will you find me a pretty client? — they asked, still typing on their cell phone — I miss kissing on the mouth, and no single person appears in the pet shop!

— Why don’t you just go to a club? — Marvin made a face of pure disgust for Anti, who lifted his shoulders — Do I look like someone who knows how to give advice? Honestly, I only wait for old ladies and plant’s moms around here.

— It was time for a sugar mommy to appear for me.

— As if some rich old woman would want you.

— I'm not liking that character of yours, Anthony — He stood up, going to the front door — I have to go now, otherwise I'm really going to need a sugar mommy. I'll call you later!

— Bye Marvin!

Anti watched the car until he turned the street corner, leaving the man alone and the flower shop silent again, waiting for a customer to show up.

But before sitting behind the counter, he noticed the establishment across the street. Small, but intimidating: all painted in black, with a large window, three chairs in the front, and a few graffiti phrases on the door, which was certainly not part of the aesthetic. Above the window, the (off) sign with the word "TATTOOS" indicated the obvious: a tattoo studio. Anti laughed with his nose, how ironic a flower shop opens in front of a tattoo studio.

— Who is the owner? — He asked to himself, leaning on the counter. He wanted to wait for the tattoo artist to arrive, but a customer had arrived at his own store.

Yeah, he needed to start the day

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The sky was beginning to darken when the florist closed the doors, tired of the busy but productive day. Many customers showed up and many flowers were sold, Anti was sure that some would be frequent customers.

After he finished sweeping the front area, he went in again to tidy up the plants and put new ones on display for the next day. He spotted the studio across the street when he was cleaning the windows, and remembered that he hadn't seen the owner all day. Well, he was probably there, since the lights were on and some figures could be seen moving through the frosted glass. Maybe it was more than one owner?

And suddenly, all the lights turned off, and two people left the establishment. They appeared to be two men, both probably in their thirties and displaying many tattoos on both arms. The shorter one had light brown hair, a thin beard and wore glasses; the black sleeveless turtleneck and white coat tied at their waist certainly made them look like a doctor when they dressed both. The taller one had dark hair — Anti couldn't tell if it was black or brown — and a thick mustache. The white button-down blouse and dark gray vest contrasted with the thousands of tattoos on their arm and supposed profession, like a man from the 1900s with a few touches from the 2010s.

The two talked and laughed loudly, it was possible to hear from inside the floriculture. Slightly gaping, Anti saw the shortest get into a car that had just arrived and the tallest to get on a nearby motorcycle, waving at the car before the vehicle left. They stayed there for a while looking at something on their cell phone and then put it away and put on a helmet. But before giving the ignition, they raised their face to the flower shop. Anthony quickly turned around, pretending to be cleaning the chairs. Had the stranger realized that they were being stared at, or did they just want to see the name of the flower shop?

In one way or another, the florist only looked up when he heard the engine’s noise moving away. As soon as he was sure he was alone again, he sat on the couch, releasing all the air he was holding and his thoughts all over the place. How, how could someone so handsome work literally in front of him? Was this an offering from God for Anti to become a Catholic again or a temptation for some demon to lose the job he had barely won?

Because he knew he would be distracted.

Instinctively, he took out his cell phone and called a number. He needed to tell his brother everything that happened.

— Hello-

— Chase, for your son's sake, call an ambulance because I feel like I'm going to die.

— WHAT? Anthony, what happened?

— Oh man — He passed the right hand over his mouth, wiping sweat — I opened my flower shop, right? Right, beautiful, very cool. Everything was going really well UNTIL I found out that there is a tattoo studio in front of me and-

— Calm down, tattoo studio? In front of your flower shop?

— I thought the same thing! Irony, right? Anyway, there is the tattoo studio, right, and it looks like there are two guys who work there, or whatever. And listen, Chase, there's one that is SO HANDSOME like, Chase, Chase you don't understand me, the guy is everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend.

— Damn, even the mustache?

— EVEN THE MUSTACHE! I didn't get to talk to them, but just because of the appearance, the guy has already won 50% of me and, and… — he took a pillow nearby, muffling his scream — Chase I should have gone to more teenage parties to learn how to relate to people. Beautiful, very beautiful people.

— You really should. Now seriously, how was the first day?

— Ah, nothing impressive. But do you believe that…

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anti i feel you i also like mustachioed men

ik you already know who the two men are, but i talked about them with they/them pronouns because it’s partially anti’s pov dksjsdkfkdj

yeah hope you liked it

[collecting-stories]

hii! can you please do “wanna go apple picking?” & “don’t forget your scarf,  it’s cold out. “ with rafe please 🥺💛

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

“Rafe...Rafe...Rafe!” You shouted into your phone. You were FaceTiming your boyfriend, phone balanced in your lap as you drove to his house. He was still on the phone, you could see him moving around when you glanced down briefly to check your connection. “Rafe!”

“What?”

“What the fuck, I was literally talking to you.” You huffed, stopping at a red light two blocks away from Tanney Hill.

“Yeah I heard you.” He replied, still rummaging around his desk area. There was a 50/50 chance that the cleaning lady had found his stash and given it to his father.

“Great what’d I say?”

“You said...” he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as if that would, in any way, help him remember.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see it. Right now the only view he was getting was the underside of your chin. You hated FaceTiming him, he always zoned out. It was fine when both of you were zoned out, sitting for hours on the phone just doing your own thing connected virtually, but when you were trying to have a conversation it was a pain in the ass.

“Apple picking. I said do you want to go apple picking?” You finally said. There was a long silence and when you looked at the camera he appeared to be gone from the room altogether. “Oh for fucks sake.”

Your car pulled into the driveway at Tanney Hill, parking right behind Rose’s Tesla, and you picked the phone up, finally getting a better angle. You waited a few minutes, trying to decide where in the big house your boyfriend could have gotten to. You were half tempted to just go inside but if you did than you knew you would never leave and the whole morning you had planned, which you were roping Rafe into unknowingly, would be totally out the window.

“Rafe!”

“I’m here, I’m back, what do you want?” He asked, coming back into the room and slamming his door.

“Do you want to go apple picking?” You repeated the question for the third time.

“Apple picking?”

“Yeah, at an orchard. With trees. We have to take the ferry. Yes? No?” You were pretty far beyond impatient but you shouldn’t have been surprised. Tricking your boyfriend into going somewhere he would typically never go was an art form you had perfected. But he was really testing your ability today.

“Yeah whatever.”

“Good, get dressed and come outside.” You replied, “oh and don’t forget your scarf, it’s kinda cold out.”

“Are you at my house?” He asked. You watched him appear at the window and you waved as he shook his head.

“Obviously.”

“Come inside.”

“Absolutely not.” You said, “if I come inside we’ll never leave.”

“Yeah well, the apples aren’t going anywhere.” He replied.

You took a deep breath, mostly to keep yourself from absolutely losing it on him for being so annoying. “Literally they are.”

“I’ll buy you apples at Kroger, I’ll even sit in a tree and drop them on you.” He offered, walking down the stairs and opening the door so he could see you.

“Amazing, that’s so generous and romantic of you.” You said, holding up you middle finger so he could see you flipping him off through the windshield.

“I’m just that kinda guy. Now come inside.”

You cut your engine and got out of the car, hanging up your FaceTime call as you walked over to Rafe, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at you like he’d won something.

“Don’t look so smug you asshole, I’m only coming in to get Wheezie.”

“Why?”

“I’m upgrading. She’ll go apple picking with me.” You replied, walking passed him to the bottom of the stairs, “Wheez!”

“Seriously?” He let the door shut behind him as he followed you into the house.

“What?” At the same time, the youngest Cameron appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking between you and her brother.

“Wanna go apple picking?”

“Okay, I’ll get my coat.”

You turned to look at Rafe, his smug smile from earlier now yours, “have fun hanging out all by yourself babe.”

-

Autumn Prompts

[marksassybanana]

2 Fast

Racer!Mark x reader - Smut, Fluff, Rivals to lovers

Words: 2,6k

Warnings: public sex, daddy kink (mentioned only once), creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), cum eating, degradation, praise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the middle of the night. You were in your car, hands on the wheel as you were speeding off through the empty streets . You kept checking the side mirror to see if he was still behind you, but surprisingly he wasn't. Smirking, you took a turn on the left as you saw the parking lot that you both agreed would sign the end of the race. You were so close that you were already feeling the excitement flowing through your veins, your mind already running with hundreds of thoughts of embarrassing things you could make your rival do, since you decided that whoever lost had to do whatever the other wanted. As you were about 100 meters from the parking lot, however, you quickly glanced to your right and almost accidentally pressed the break from the shock. 

Mark had apparently took a short cut and suddenly arrived from your right, speeding off and arriving first at the parking lot. You were beyond speechless, and were already dreading the thought of getting off your car and having to see that sexy irking smirk on his face. You parked beside his car, and after turning off the engine of your red Mustang, you slowly got off.

Mark was already out of his car, leaning on it with his arms crossed as he carefully watched you. He smirked cockily and was about to speak, but you immediately cut him off while walking in his direction. "Yeah ok, I don't care. Just tell me what I have to do" you said impatiently, food tapping on the ground as you looked everywhere but in his direction.

He cooed at you. "Aw, such a sore loser, aren't you?". He stepped closer to you, but you paid him no mind, just wanting to get this over with. You had to admit that you didn’t really like losing, but you absolutely hated it if it was against Mark. You've known each other for years, always trying to win against the other. If he won two times, you won two as well, and the other way around. This lead to a lot of bickering and arguments. You couldn't even stay in the same room for more than 5 minutes before throwing snarky comments at each other, and then suddenly driving off in your own cars to do yet another race to try and prove who was the better one. So yeah, you were pretty much enemies, but couldn't deny the sexual tension between the two of you.

Once, you both were at a party thrown by Jaemin, your mutual friend, and as you were in the kitchen pouring yourself a drink, you overheard Mark, clearly wasted, complaining to his friends Jeno and Haechan about you. And now, 3 weeks later, you still can't get out of your head what he said...

"Like fuck, she pisses me off so fucking much, but when she's all smug and shit about winning I just want to bend her over my car and fuck her dumb".

As you briefly thought about that, you felt your cheeks heat up. Mark must have noticed you spacing out, since he closed the distance between the two of you and took your face between his fingers, making you look at him. "Babe, what’s got your panties in a bunch? Thinking about something naughty? Maybe thinking...about me? Yeah?" He said the last part in a whisper, as if he too wasn't completely sure if saying that was the right thing to do.

He carefully watched you as you got even more flustered, avoiding his gaze before speaking up after a while. "I...at that party at Jaemin's house. I actually overheard you having an interesting conversation with your friends. It was about how you wanted to...bend me over your car and fuck me dumb, if I recall". This time he was the one getting increasingly flustered. He nervously scratched the back of his head as he stuttered. "O-oh, you heard that?".

After seeing his reaction, how he turned all shy and into a stuttering mess, it was your turn to be the smug one, suddenly forgetting all the embarrassment you were feeling just seconds ago. "Yeah, so I think that here it's actually you who can't stop thinking about me, mh?".

As if coming to his senses when you pronounced those words, he turned back to his cocky self, putting his hands on your waist and switching your places. "But sweetheart, aren't you the one who after three weeks can't stop thinking about it? It must have got you all hot and bothered if you're bringing it up now". He caged you against the passenger door of his car, hips pressing against yours. "I bet you've imagined it. Me bending you over the hood of my car, fucking you senseless like the slut you are -" he slowly stroked your thigh with one hand, making you leave out a shaky breath "- moaning my name as if your life depended on it. Must have touched this pretty pussy so many times thinking about it, haven't you?" And as he said that, his right hand slowly trailed under your skirt, until he was cupping your core over your panties, which already had a wet patch on them.

You left out a tiny moan at the sudden movement, grasping his shoulders for stability. "Mh, I think your cunt is agreeing with what I'm saying". He hooked his index under your panties putting them aside and didn't waste time, slowly sliding his middle finger between your lips, spreading your juices around and lubrificating his finger. He then inserted one inside of you, just as his thumb started teasing your puffy clit. "A-aah! Don't tease me. Touch me properly" you said impatiently. He just laughed, slowly inserting another finger inside of your aching core. "Demanding, aren't we? If you ask nicely I might do it. Only good girls get rewards". You left out a whimper as his fingers moved even faster, curling just the right way against your inner walls. As much as you didn't want to beg, you really needed to reach you release, but that wouldn't do. You had to have him inside of you. It’s all you could think about for the past weeks. "P-please. I need your cock inside of me. Need to feel you. Just fuck me...d-daddy".

When he heard those words leaving your lips he grabbed the back of your thighs, making you wrap yourself around him. He stared intensly at your lips before kissing you harshly, as he brought you to the front of his car and on top of its hood. Your tounges were battling for dominance, but he soon got impatient. He detached himself from you, glancing at the line of spit connetting both of your lips. Then he hastily turned you around, bending you over the car. He hiked your skirt up around your waist and harshly pulled your panties until he heard them tear. "F-fuck, if you ask so nicely who am I to deny it to you".

He quickly opened his black jeans and pulled them down together with his briefs, just enough to take out his already half hard cock, before stroking it to full length.

"Are you on the pill?". You looked back at him and quickly nodded your head, impatient to have him inside of you. He leaned down, leaving a few kisses on the back of your neck and then whispering in your ear in a surprisingly sweet tone. "I'm putting it in, is that ok sweetheart?". And after seeing you quickly nodded your head, he slowly guided his cock to your entrance, smearing his precum over your slit before pushing inside of you. He left out a shaky breath, lost in bliss as he felt your walls immediately engulfing him in your warmth. He started experimentally thrusting a couple times, leaving out little moans each time. "God, you feel so fucking good". You left out a mewl at the feeling of his cock going even deeper inside of you, pressing your backside against him, hoping that he would go faster. He took the hint, grabbing your hips not too delicately and beginning to slam inside of you. His thrusts getting faster and deeper, reaching just the rights spots inside of you that made your vision almost blurry. You didn't care that you were in a public area, leaving out loud moans vaguely resembling Mark's name every time he hit that certain spot inside of you.

It wasn't long before he became quite frustrated. He found you absolutely gorgeous bent over his car for him, but he really wanted to see all of you. Almost ached for it, especially after all those nights spent with his hand inside his briefs, imagining you in a variety of different positions and with no clothes to hide your body from him.

He pulled out making you leave a whine, your hands subconsciously moving behind you to grab him. He quickly turned you around, laying you on the hood of his car as you let out a gasp, both at the suddness of the movement and at the coldness of the material. "Sweetheart, take your top off for me" he asked gently. You breafly looked around the parking lot before sliding your tank top over your head and unclasping your bra, thus leaving you completely bare for him besides the skirt, which you also proceeded to slide off. Mark stood there for a few moments, admiring you, completely naked and vulnerable just for him, the guy you were competing with just minutes before.

You thought that he despised you as much as you thought you did, but every now and then, like in that moment, you could see his mask crack, leaving behind small fragments of his real personality in its wake. It was such a shame that until now you could only see glimps of it, but you would be lying if you said that you weren't dying to see more.

He let his hands wander around your body, gently grasping your breasts and giving them a light squeeze, before sliding down and settling on you waist. "Fuck, you're breathtaking". He bent down and pressed his lips against yours, distracting you as he repositioned his cock at your entrance, burying it inside to the hilt. You felt your mind go empty at that, overwhelmed by the feeling of his member kissing your cervix. This time each thrust had a different rhythm to it, as if behind each one there were all those pent up emotions that you both had for each other, but kept concealing behind the facade of a rivalry.

You scratched his back with your nails, trying to find something to hold on, and whispered "M-Mark, I'm- nngh!" you left out a shaky moan mid sentence "-I'm almost there". He took a second to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, before you interrupted his movements by taking his finger in your mouth, greedily sucking on it. The sight was enough to make him groan, his mind wondering to how you'd look with something else between your lips, spit slowly trickling down your chin, but he'll have to find out another time.

He took your hand and intertwined your fingers, something you didn't expect him to do. His other hand went lower until his fingers started touching your swollen clit. "Be a good girl and cum for me" he said breathless, trying to hold his own release just to be able to watch you come apart before him. Your high came immediately after he pronounced those words, your eyes rolling behind your head and your hand clutching desperately Mark's one. Forgetting your surroundings you loudly moaned his name, taking him to the edge as well. You kept whimpering his name until your thighs started to shake from the overstimulation of Mark's fingers, still touching your bundle of nerves. He took that as a sign to stop.

You both stayed in that position for a few minutes, just basking in the warmth of your connected bodies and looking at each other with half lidded eyes. When his member started to get soft he slowly pulled out, leaving you with a sudden feeling of emptiness that solicited a disappointed sigh.

"Mark..." he smiled at you as he watched his cum slowly drip down your thighs and the hood of his car. He couldn't resist the temptation, and he got down on his knees, dragging your spread out legs towards his head. "I'm right here" he said just a breath away from your count, and he started to clean you up, sucking and licking off of your mixed cum until there wasn't even a single drop left. You whined a little at the sight, and watched him as he then rose up to his feet again, a satisfied look on his face. He smiled sweetly at your spent form before giving you a quick kiss, proceeding then to retrieve your clothes and helping you dress up.

He helped you in your skirt that was left on the ground, noticing your ruined panties just beside it. He quickly stowed them away in his back pocket, giving you a wink when you noticed. You laughed, shaking your head at the gesture, and when the both of you were fully clothed, he stood between your legs and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You know, if we tone down the bickering just a little bit I think we might get along pretty well" he said while leaning his forehead against yours and looking straight into your eyes, a sincere smile adorning his face. "Is this your own way of asking me to be yours?" you laughed at him, grabbing his forearms and tracing circles on his skin. "Yeah, I...just to let you know I never hated you or anything. I always thought that you were so hot to the point of making you irritating, and I really dreaded loosing against you, but I never actually hated you". You leaned back on your hands and watched him with a smirk. "Mmm...is that so?". His eyes followed you, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. He silently nodded at you. "So...are you saying yes or-" you interrupted him with a kiss. It was quick, far too much for his liking. So he leaned in again, grabbing the back of your head. Your tounges found each other, and after you both imprinted the taste of the other in your brains, you broke the kiss, both panting.

"Yes. It's a yes. Now please let's go, I don't want to have another round on the hood of your car. I'd rather be on a bed...yours possibly". He smiled at that, reaching inside his pocket to grab the keys of the car. "So...wanna come over?" and after grabbing the keys of your car as well, you left a kiss on his cheek. "Yeah, show the way, I'll follow you" and the both of you went back to your vehicles, smiling like two idiots.

Before going inside, you stopped in your tracks, turning in Mark's direction. "You still haven't told me what you want me to do for losing the race". Mark stared at you for a few seconds, a smirk slowly spreading on his lips, and then hopped inside his car. "Don't worry sweetheart, you'll know soon enough" and after closing the car door, he turned on the engine. You sighed in defeat, and after turning yours on as well, you followed the boy's car through the streets, kinda worried about what he could make you do. But after arriving at Mark's house you found out that your dare ended up being quite... enjoyable for the both of you.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter One (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.9k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This might be it. This might just be the first time you’re feeling emotion that doesn’t belong to yourself. And all you can say about it is: it’s completely awful. It’s nothing close to what your mother had told you about. Right now, it feels like you’re a prisoner in your own body, and you’re not being allowed to feel for yourself.

Whoever your soulmate is, they’re obviously empathetic to the point that it’s crippling. Imagine being this grief-ridden on reaping day. You can’t fathom the idea that any regular person would feel this bad for people. So there’s really a couple of things that might be going on. 

One, your soulmate is a friend of a victor, and they’re worried that their favorite person is going to get pulled to go back inside. Two, they’re family of a victor and it’s the same thing. Three, it’s an empathetic person--which you can’t stand. Or four, it’s a victor themself.

No matter the way it goes, their emotion is cancelling out yours. You don’t want to be full of sorrow, you know for a fact that somewhere deep in your body, you’re absolutely bubbling with excitement. You’ve been looking forward to today ever since the games were announced in the winter.

Today is the day.

And yet, you can’t pull yourself out of bed. You’ve been staring at the white ceiling for at least an hour now, setting yourself back. It’s like all the enthusiasm has been drained from your body, and you’re actually regretting your decision.

A slight shiver runs through your body at that thought. You draw the line there, you’re not going to regret anything. 

Pushing yourself up, you slide out of the silk bed sheets before you can change your mind and go back to laziness. You don’t bother fixing the blankets, not really caring for the fact that they’re in disarray. You never make the bed, and you won’t start on it today either. It’s a tactic of stalling, and there’s no reason for you to.

Before the shower, you decide on picking out the dress. Something gold and glittery, which is just about the entire wardrobe. You didn’t actually buy any of these dresses, they were all given as a gift from your stylists or Capitol citizens when you spent your summer after the games, inside of the Capitol.

You pick out a floor-length dress that’s a mix between black and gold. Two set colors that you can match easily. You kick out the heels that are also black and somewhat glittery. They don’t have the actual heel part to them, but they are engineered to look like it, and they’re pretty easy to walk in. They’re always your go-to when it comes to special things like this. 

The dress is only a little bit poofy, and it’s on the lower half. Either way, it goes down to the floor, and there should be no chance of anyone seeing your feet to know that you’re reusing another pair of shoes. There’s a v-neck plunge, but it doesn’t show much skin, you still look pretty modest. In the back, it’s open.

It’s definitely a dress you could find yourself wearing during the interviews with Caesar. Or a dress you would have worn after your first tribute had won the hunger games. You’ve only mentored twice, and both of them came out alive. After that, the job was handed onto them since they were the more recent victors.

All your jewelry resides on the white vanity, but you don’t bother picking those out. You toss the dress over the back of the chair, and move the shoes nearby so it won’t be a hunt. After that, you go ahead and get into the bathroom to take your shower.

You scrub your entire body clean, even though you know that you’ll be washed again inside of the Capitol about a dozen times. You do the basics to your hair, and when you get out, you’re putting product after product in so it’s ready when you do finally come around to it.

You pull on your undergarments, skipping your dress as you head downstairs for breakfast. There’s no shame in going downstairs half-naked. There’s no one else here to call you out on it.

You hit the bottom of the stairs, and while you’re navigating through the living room to get to the kitchen, you pause in the open doorway, a little surprised to see who’s sitting on the white loveseat.

Tanith is flipping through one of those books that are on the bookshelf for pure decoration. From here, you recognize the pink cover like you received the book yesterday, when it’s been years. A gift from your then-district representative, the cover reads in nice script writing, ‘how to get used to your new wealth’. Written by some asshole inside of the Capitol.

“Riveting.” Tanith looks up from the book, eyes landing on you. But she freezes, “God--I’m sorry--”

She covers her eyes, and you can’t help to laugh, “Really?”

You walk past her, heading into the kitchen. You dig through the fridge, pulling out some fresh fruits that you’d bought yesterday from the store. On top of that, you pull out a few eggs too, pop bread into the toaster, spray some cooking butter onto the pan so the eggs won’t stick, and work away.

“I should have knocked instead of walking inside.” She says, “That’s my fault.”

You shrug, “I have no shame, not after my time in the Capitol.”

“I expect not.” you can hear the light scraping of the stool against the tile floor, “You really want to go back inside?”

After the games had been announced, all the victors in the district had gathered together to have their own little meeting. Cipher the people who didn’t want to go back in, and make the ones who did, known. The old were automatically ruled out either way, whether they wanted to go inside or not, they’re too delusional. Old age has rotten their brains, some can’t think straight anymore.

There had been a good handful of people that wanted to go back inside. The only problem was that everyone wanted to do it based on capabilities again. To keep you guys on top of the pyramid as usual. You can’t send in someone who would die off immediately. Thus, a competition started.

As time went on, people were slowly weaned out. Based off of strength, fighting capabilities, who still knew the edible plants, the medical knowledge. If you were able to still present well, with the cute dresses, the white smiles, the charming personalities.

It brought it down to only a couple of you. Sorcha, an older woman in her forties who’s fit even after all these years. She’s arrogant--even more than you--and mean. She’s self-driven, disregards most of the people that come across her. She started off as a Capitol favorite, but now they see her as a total bitch.

Daleka, in her thirties and a very skilled fighter. She won her games by being completely ruthless. Her personality is likable, the Capitol complained when she stopped visiting and mentoring all together. Has a wife and a kid she adopted from the foster care place.

You, of course. Only twenty-five, still seen as somewhat fresh off of the arena. Nine years may seem like a long time to others, but not to you. Along that time, other districts have won too. Like Annie from four and Johanna from seven, and your most recently hated, Katniss and Peeta from twelve. 

But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re one of the top three for the most recent out of the arena. First would be Zavian, next would be Tanith, and then it would be you. Everything is still very fresh in your mind, since you were the one that had mentored both Zavian and Tanith. What you’re saying is, you’re a perfect candidate.

Anyway, the final girl that had wanted to go in was Enobaria. A Capitol favorite, like most of you are. Fierce, confident. She got her teeth filed to be sharp because of her signature win of ripping a tribute’s throat out. Fun to be around, nowhere near bubbly like some people think.

And for the boys, the list was quite large, and you wouldn’t be able to name all of them on one hand. The whole point of this is, there could only be one girl and one boy sent in. Therefore, the competition narrowed it down for everyone, as the challenges progressively got harder.

For boys, Brutus won. Tall, bald, muscular. He’s in his forties, but he looks to be about late thirties instead. He’s cocky, a complete pain in the ass, and he would be difficult to fight. But he’s an ally that you can’t deny wouldn’t be good to have at your side.

And for girls, you won it. You practically blew Sorcha and Daleka out of the water. Enobaria was much more difficult to shake, though. She’d obviously continued studying even after her games. You might have been a softie back in the academy, but you were a quick learner, and all of it stuck like it’d been glued with superglue. 

The volunteer is yours to have. And if you chose to back out, there would be no harm in it. That’s why Enobaria is there, she’s the backup in case you were to choose to do something like that. However, you didn’t fight tooth and nail with a bunch of bullies just to quit it. You want that win.

“Yes,” you answer Tanith’s question, “I do. Afraid I won’t win?”

She snorts, “Hardly. I’m afraid that you’ll be a murder machine.”

You look over your shoulder at her, “Have you eaten yet?” 

“No,” she says, and with that, you serve her the eggs, toast and berries. After that, you slide her the butter for her toast, “Thank you.”

As you go back to cook your own breakfast, you smile down at it, “Obviously you haven’t watched my games.”

“I was fifteen.” she objects, “I watched them. What I mean, is that I’m afraid you’ll become a murdering machine again.”

“That’s what all the victors are, not just me. Look back at anyone’s games from this district and you’ll see that.” you pop a strawberry into your mouth, “And it’s not like there’s much to lose, either.”

“This big old house?” she proposes, “Me?”

Tanith has uncomfortably clung onto you like a parental figure. She came straight from the foster care herself, an orphan. Academy took her when she turned eight, because obviously no one would miss her. She was just as deadly as you were, when she turned seventeen. You hand picked her yourself, even though there were ‘better candidates’ for it.

She’s your first winner, like how Zavian is your second. You were sure to keep him out of the same games with Tanith, knowing that it would screw the whole system. You’re fond of them equally, but unlike Zavian--who was eager to get away from you as fast as possible--Tanith has stuck around.

Take today as one of the many examples.

“I like how the house was your first priority to say.”

“You speak about this place like it’s a home base.” she reasons, “You seem to like it more than me, what can I say?”

You go ahead and plate all of your food, turning off the stove but leaving the pan. If you put it under water so soon, the metal will warp from the temperature change, and ruin it. It won’t sit right ever again.

You stand opposite of Tanith, leaning against the counter as you eat, “I wouldn’t say I like it more than you, that seems like an overstatement.” you decide to change the conversation, bored of this one, “Should I be worried about anyone else coming to visit?”

“Enobaria was.” Tanith says, picking at her egg, “She wanted to come and be the one to harass you about volunteering. I told her that I’d take the blow.”

“Smart girl.” you say, stabbing your fork into your egg, walking as the yolk runs out, and straight to your toast. The berries are long gone, “Well, I guess she’ll find out when I volunteer.”

“What’s the point of it, anyway?” she asks, “I mean, you have everything you could have wanted, right?”

“You and I don’t think the same.” you say, “You remind me of myself, back when I was on my victory tour.”

She gives you a confused look, “Is that compliment?”

“I’m more or less calling you humble.”

“Thanks…”

“And mushy, you’re an overthinker. You like the simple things, you won and now you’re done, right? You’re not bothered by the fact that you’re just another face, another name among this crowd of victors.” you take your time eating between sentences, “Me, on the other hand--who would give up the opportunity to be a living legend?”

She hums, nodding a little bit, not knowing what to say. It’s a rhetorical question, there’s a ton of people that have passed on this. But the idea is way too tempting. Possibly double the cash, and you literally get put into the books for not surviving once, but twice? The Capitol citizens love you now, wait until later.

You finish your breakfast quickly, taking your and Tanith’s plate as you move over to the sink, running water over them. Next, you go ahead and place the pan in there too.

“I’ve got to get ready, are you sticking around?”

“I should report back to Enobaria.” Tanith says, you can hear the chair again, “I could come back later with Emi, if you want.”

“Whatever.” you say, heading towards the staircase, “Don’t worry about me too much, kid. I’m unbreakable so far.”

“So far.” She echos.

There’s no goodbye as you go up. By now, your hair is pretty dry. In the bathroom attached to your bedroom, you go ahead and get ready now. You brush your hair, blow dry only a little bit, and then straighten. When you’re done with that, you curl and hairspray.

By the time you’ve moved onto makeup, Tanith is back with Emi already. Emi is older than the both of you, but she has more experience when it comes to some things. She picks out the jewelry for you, and does some of the harder parts of your makeup. The both of them work together to get you into the dress, and then help with the shoes too.

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, you double check everything, asking yourself if this is what you want. With a few more turns, you decide that you’re going to get praise for the outfit choice. The Capitol will be impressed with how dressed up you got for it. Others might see it as some joke.

You have about thirty minutes before the reaping, which is when you go to leave the house. It isn’t until you’ve stopped at the door, when you realize that you’re missing some sort of token. You tilt your head from side to side, trying to remember what you wore in your first games.

A necklace, wasn’t it? Given to you by your then-boyfriend. He later broke up with you because of your performance inside of the games, which he wasn’t expecting at all in the slightest. Because of this, you kept the necklace as a reminder, it’s tortuous, and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it now.

“What are you waiting for?” Emi finally asks.

“I need a token.” you tell her, still staring at the staircase, distracted.

“Earrings, necklace, bracelet…” Emi urges slightly, “Ring?”

“No.” you tell her, “Wait--yes for the necklace.”

Your hand finds it, already dangling around your neck. Another gift, Tanith. Some souvenir she had gotten from the Capitol during her visit after she won. This will please her.

“Never mind, it’s on me.”

You leave the house, closing the door with a slam, since it’s a bit shifty when it comes to closing. After that, you wait at the bottom of the steps with the other two, watching as people come out of their houses, one by one. In no time, you’re all walking towards the stage in one big herd.

“Not everyone can visit you, but I definitely will.” Tanith says, “In the departing room, I mean.”

“Sweet.” you look over all the district people who dressed up nicely, despite the fact that they’re not going to be the ones going in. You catch the attention of a few people because of your out. You wonder if they know deep down that it’s because you’re going to volunteer.

“Zavian even agreed too. It was supposed to be a surprise but I know how you feel about them.”

It’s like showing up uninvited. Like her being inside of your house without any prior warning. You guess that’s somewhat your fault too, since you hadn’t talked to anyone yesterday. You were too amped up about today. It’s funny to you, that you were allowed to feel excited yesterday, but so unmotivated today.

Maybe your soulmate was full of anxiety this morning.

“Wanna know something cool?” you ask Tanith.

“Sure.” She looks over at you, but you’re still staring off at everyone you pass.

“I think I actually do have a soulmate.” 

Tanith gasps, covering her mouth. You look over at her, confused by the reaction, until you realize that it was genuine excitement, “Really? That’s good news! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrug, “Didn’t see it as important. Haven’t heard anything from them in a long time, so I thought they were as good as dead.”

“It’s good news.” Tanith looks happy for you, “I wish I’d come across mine already.”

She looks down at her wrist, running her finger over the words.

“You’ve got plenty of time.” you tell her.

“Says you. You were so worried about it.” Tanith says, and before you can object, she adds: “Come on, admit it already.”

You give an exasperated sigh, “I suppose.”

She smiles a bit.

Tanith helps you up the staircase to the stage, which almost looks brand new. It isn’t though, it’s just pristine clean. Unlike the other districts, two is highly loved. Which means that the entire district is rich, except for a select few who were born in the poorer part of the district to begin with.

It just means that everything looks nice. The stage is white, it hardly had dirty footprints. You watch as some comes across with a broom to brush off the dirt after everyone has stepped onto the stage.

District Two is practically a second Capitol.

This year, no one sits in chairs. The girls stand on the right, in the back stand the tallest, and the front stand the shortest. You’re fairly tall, you’re able to see over most people’s heads. Most of the girls in the district manage to be short anyway, it was just the genes that you inherited that allowed you to be tall.

You’re given an easy escape route, the same as Enobaria as a backup. If your name is called, no one is allowed to volunteer over you. However, if you don’t volunteer fast enough, then that leaves it up to grabs. There’s a whole list of people that are dying to be able to go back inside.

Two people sit in chairs, waiting for everyone to file in and get comfortable below the stage. The first is the governor, a woman you’re not that fond of. She got on your nerves back when you had won your games. Back then, you were taking a lot of trips to the Capitol to have work done on your body. She was getting irritated about it.

The second person that sits next to the governor, is the district representative. A short man with loud opinions. He’s one of those people that you wouldn’t mind being thrown inside of the arena with. He’d likely be torn apart like the tributes are a pack of wolves. 

He thinks of you guys as used tissues. There’s been a couple of times when you’ve gotten in his face because of what he said. Nearly shredded him right then and there in front of a few peacekeepers and tributes. If people think you’re scary normally, then they haven’t seen you angry.

It’s a disappointment that he is the district rep. You wish he would jump off a cliff and die. 

Once everyone is in their respective places, the governor gives her speech that she gives every year. It’s the one about the dark days, a required speech. In the group of girls, you whisper the words in harmony. After she wraps it up, the rep moves forward.

His name is Theo, a boring name. Unbearably common and simple. You thought the Capitol people were supposed to be extravagant. This man is a disappointment in more than one way, it turns out.

“Happy hunger games!” His voice is what you’d like to also describe as ‘average’. Not deep, not high pitched. Average, “Let’s start with ladies first, shall we?”

As if it’s a question any of you are allowed to answer. You know someone in this group--mainly Sorcha--is dying to yell back ‘actually no, we shall not’ just to see his reaction. Forget the tributes being seen as monkeys, the Capitol people’s reactions are just as entertaining.

He sticks his white-gloved hand into the bowl, spinning his finger around while he puckers his face. He’s likely thinking, ‘Which one looks the most presentable?’

‘It doesn’t matter!’ you want to yell back, ‘I’m volunteering either way!’

It’s building up unnecessary tension. You scowl, eyes glued to his hand as he finally picks a damn slip of paper. He pulls it out, his suit sleeve nearly clipping the mouth of the bowl, and goes back over to the expensive microphone. He pulls off the black tape, and reads over the name.

“Tanith Nuova!” he smiles widely, looking over towards the girl section.

How funny, your own tribute getting called out. It’s a sign. If you didn’t have your mind made up before, you do now.

“I volunteer!” your voice rings out, no one is surprised.

You slide out of the section of girls, along the way, Tanith holds out her hand, and you slap it for a high-five. A small smirk appears over your face as you gracefully go to where you need to stand. One look at the choir of girls, and you can see that you’re nowhere near out of place with how you’re dressed. Plenty of people look like they’re also ready to head back to the Capitol.

Theo doesn’t look too thrilled, his face puckers again as he heads to the microphone, “(Y/n) Rosecelli for our girl.”

He moves over to the boys now, doing the exact same thing that he did the first time. You glare at him out of annoyance. You manage to catch the eyes of Brutus to see he’s shifting on his feet, clearly fed up with this too.

Theo finally gets to the point of it, “Cobalt Struyk--”

He barely gets out the last name when Brutus’ voice overpowers him, “I volunteer.”

Brutus comes over, standing in front of the boys bowl. Theo, scowling and hinting at the beginning of a temper tantrum, motions to the two of you, not even bothering to introduce Brutus.

You hold your hand out for Brutus, and he gives you a smirk as he takes it. Once you have a hold of each other, you turn towards the cameras, holding up your intertwined fingers, a giant grin on the both of your faces.

Two volunteers, it’s unsurprising to the entire nation. They’re expecting volunteers, but they definitely weren’t anticipating those who would step forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Quarter Quell!” Theo says after he managed to pull himself together. He skips the bit about shaking hands, and the two of you are then escorted off of the stage.

You begin in the direction of the departing room, noticing how the peacekeepers follow you and Brutus tightly. By the time you get to the building, Tanith and Zavian are already there, in your room.

“What’s with them being so stuffy?” you ask once the door shuts behind you.

“I heard a few districts are getting out of hand.” Zavian leans on the arm of the couch, “I guess it’s better safe than sorry.”

Another reason why you don’t like that Katniss girl, look at the mess she’s made of everything. It was fine before she came along, fucked up the process. Should’ve gotten over the fact that both of them couldn’t win. It’s not like Peeta was a use anyway. Like you’ve said before, deadweight on her fragile, little girl shoulders.

“Well, this is goodbye.” Zavian says, “Thanks for mentoring me.”

Tanith elbows him, giving him a glare, “You could at least be a little sympathetic, douchebag.”

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s a new one, what else are you gonna call me?”

For a second, they’re staring at each other. And then, Tanith grabs her arm like it’s going to detach itself. You watch in awe as she holds it out, looking down at the words.

“Oh, this is unbelievable.” Tanith now looks like her arm can detach, “I’ve been paired with a moron.”

Zavian doesn’t look that phased, taking one look at his arm, and then shrugging. Almost like nothing that went on in front of you, actually happened, he looks at you again, “Good luck in there, you’ll need it. Twenty-three people to fend off? May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Tanith isn’t very good at brushing it off, but she knows her time is limited. She comes over, holding her arms out like a child. You hug her, for her own sake and squeeze her tightly.

“Will you actually use the necklace as a token?” she asks.

“Well, I need something.” you say, “It’s better than nothing.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.” She pulls away, “Thank you for being the greatest person, ever.”

“Cheesy, she hates it.” Zavian comments, laughing a little to himself, “Look at the look on her face.”

Tanith pretends not to hear him, “I know she’s not fond of affection but--” she backs away entirely, “--you should know that a lot of the victors do like you. Truly. Sorcha and a few of the other’s won’t say it, but they love you. We all do.”

You give her a smile, “Thanks.”

“I’ll send anything that you need.” she says, “Make plenty of allies. Be ruthless.”

She’s quoting you. Those are the exact words you said to her last, before she was off to the hovercraft. It’s funny how they’ve stuck with her this long. They must echo inside of her mind like an empty chamber.

“I will, I promise.” you take in a deep breath.

The doors open, “Time’s up, time for the train.”

You look over the two people that decided to visit you, and you open your arms one last time. Tanith comes over willingly, and it takes Zavian a moment before he realizes that it’s extended to him too.

“You two are my pride and joys. Two of my biggest achievements, really. I’ll be back soon, and then you guys can praise me all you want.”

“Get off of me.” Zavian laughs, pushing away now.

“Bye.” you tell them firmly, before turning around and heading towards the peacekeepers.

One of them presses their hand to your lower back, guiding you to the car where Theo and Brutus await. Theo goes in first, since he’s royalty. Next is you, and Brutus nearly weighs the entire car down when he steps inside.

Theo begins muttering about something, you’re not entirely sure if you’re supposed to be listening or not. You want to tell him to shut up, but Brutus beats you to it. Theo glares, you can see him mouth the word ‘ungrateful’ and then stares out of the window for the rest of the time.

When the ride is over, you purposely hold onto Brutus, making him wait, “Open the door for us, Theo.”

He looks over like you just insulted his mother, “Huh?”

“I said, open the door for us. This is our spotlight, after all.” you motion, “Go ahead, before the peacekeepers do it first.”

Brutus is smiling, and he pushes Theo towards the door forcefully. Theo doesn’t like this in the slightest, popping open the door, and holding it open for you and Brutus. Brutus lets you go first, and you step out of the car carefully, holding onto your dress.

Out of the car now, Theo leads you up to the train station. Around you guys are a bunch of peacekeepers still, getting you up to the platform, and then taking on an automatic position behind you guys.

You take your time, waving with a smile at the thought of the fact that the next time you’ll be here, you’re going to be a two-timed victor.

–

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[zwiezraczek]

Could I get No. 9 with Ben Hardy in BohRhap as Roger Taylor? I'm female and use the pronouns she/her. Thank you!! 😍 Ps: also really like the numbers with 1D references 😅

Don't Blame Me For Falling [Blurb]

Note: First of all I missed writing so much like aaah and thank you for this request! I hope that you like it and that I managed to do what you expected! 💕 Ps: Thank youuuu! 😘

~~~~

Roger has always been the one. You couldn't truly put your finger on it, but your heart and soul always knew that he would be there for you in every situation. And he indeed was, since the very beginning. Since the cradle and right after the kindergarten. It always made you smile when you thought about this little boy with his blonde bowl cut running all around, holding your hand and being the girls' lover, all the girls' one of course. But at the very beginning, you didn't even seem to care about the fact that he was this popular around girls, and even boys sometimes, because you were his best friend and at the end of the day you knew that you would share your lunch while sitting on the sidewalk. And these were the best memories you had of Roger and you, the sidewalk and first the cookies, then the cigarettes when you were twelve and alcohol when you were seventeen.

But mostly first and foremost he was a drummer, and probably the face of every band he was playing in, and you couldn't blame his colleagues for taking advantage of it. You didn't mind it either, or at least you thought that you didn't. Then, he had told you that his mother wanted him to become a doctor, so he started to study in order to become a dentist, still pursuing his drumming hobby, a hobby you liked very much especially when you looked at him squinting his eyes – because he absolutely refused to wear glasses, it wasn't “rock 'n roll” enough as he used to say – and focusing on every beat and every sound he was leading. And you liked watching him play, you liked how he bit his lips while hitting the drum with all his energy, radiating a sunny light behind his drum kit and being the one everybody wanted to see and not even Freddie – the new addition to Smile – could compete with his angelic look and his beautiful eyes shining bright under the spotlight.

He couldn't blame you for falling for him, him and his laugh, his smile and everything he radiated. But you could blame him for focusing more on the groupies than on the actual gigs he was doing. As much as he loved playing music and began to hate his studies, having girls around him seemed to become his favorite hobby when their group Smile that morphed into Queen became more and more famous, attracting people from the whole town in order to listen to them. You knew it was because of the music they were playing, this organic sound that seemed to come from nowhere but was to be expected from four so different people – an art major, an astrophysics one and an electrical engineer and a dentist to be – but Roger's charm was playing a huge part in their success, at least everyone in the band seemed to think so. And you couldn't let this little crush ruin everything you had with him, because you didn't want him to break your heart as he seemed to break those of the girls around him craving for attention and for a kiss on their lips. A kiss you wanted too, but a kiss you refused to ask for.

“Where's Roger,” Brian asked as you entered the backstage with a bottle of water for them all, somehow you ended up helping them during their gigs or at least to bring him some food or water from the bar they were playing in.

“Probably found another group of girls to hang around with,” you bitterly answered as you put the bottle on the table in front of the couch they all were sitting on before sitting on its armrest.

“What's wrong darling,” Freddie asked as he put his arm on your tight with a genuine smile, “you don't seem well right now.”

There was something in Freddie's eyes that made you like him from the very start, him and his open-mindedness and the fact that he didn't hesitate to befriend you, and treat you as family because he saw that you were almost family for Roger. And you looked down at him, sighing.

“You know... Roger,” you said rolling your eyes and Freddie just pat your tight a few times.

“Unbearable little blond one, I know. I still don't know how you manage to put up with him after all these years... You must be a saint darling!”

“I wish I was,” you replied with a lighter mind. “He was always around, so I worked with it.”

“You should teach us how to survive with him,” Brian jokingly said and John simply nodded and you began to laugh.

“Is this the laugh of my favorite princess,” you heard Roger's voice coming from the door and you turned around and saw his pretty still sweaty face facing you, his eyes locked on you.

“Depends if you're talking about the blonde that was around you tonight or me,” you wittily replied with a smirk.

“Oh y/n, don't be so jealous,” he teased you and put his hands on your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Y/n's a saint for being your friend, honestly, she is truly a saint,” Brian repeated and winked at you as you smiled.

“She understands me better than you Brian, even if you're here for a long time, she has the benefit of the time.”

“Of the cradle and the kindergarten, and I have some pictures of Roger having a bowl cut,” you added and you felt his hand becoming a bit more tense around your shoulders and his chin leaving your head.

“No way,” Freddie almost screamed, “we absolutely need to see this!”

“Don't you dare y/n” Roger said and you turned around again, looking up at him and sticking out your tongue. “You won, you absolutely deserve my pouty face, absolutely.”

“Roger has a pouty face,” John asked, breaking his silence and making Freddie laugh.

And he proceeded to not pout, but to be salty about it instead as Freddie made fun of him while drinking some water and other things that some of the staff had brought them during the night. You promised them to help them pack their things at the end, and usually you ended up helping Roger with his drum kit, and usually it took you longer than it should because of the fun you always had with his cymbals as he was telling you to stop. But this time, you stole one of his cymbals, and began to run away in every direction, like a child, like when you were both four and he tried to catch you after you had stolen his favorite toy as you were running for your life. And there you were, both in your twenties, running around a place you barely knew, you with a part of his kit, and him chasing you in order to gather his things. You were giggling, laughing, and the others knew that your games with Roger always ended well so they only smiled when they saw you passing by.

And this time, he cornered you. Technically, it wasn't the first time, knowing that he was always the one who knew better the places where they were playing than you did. Which was pretty much obvious. You faced a wall, with your cymbal, or his cymbal instead. You closed your eyes, and sighed; you couldn't hear footsteps behind you because you knew he had stopped running and was standing behind, looking at you, waiting for you to capitulate. So, you turned around, facing him instead of the wall, with a forced smile because you knew that it was the end of your journey there. You waved at him, faintly as he began to walk towards you.

“In my defense, your honor, I was just trying to learn how to play the cymbals,” you said as he approached you with a smile and your back began to touch the wall right behind you.

“With only one cymbal?”

“I call this genius.”

He sighed, with his face really close to yours, and you blamed the hotness of the place for the redness on your cheeks. You were drowning in his beautiful eyes, as you did often but now particularly you couldn't resist them. The silence between the two of you became quite peculiar, soothing but also tense with an unknown feeling. A feeling you tried to repress for a long time. His fingertips touched your cheek delicately and you looked at him, a bit taken aback.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered and your eyes became wider than the sun. “Joking… Unless?”

“Unless I'm the blonde girl,” you managed to say, with your sparkling witty eyes.

“No, like for real, y/n,” he whispered with his raspy voice and you had to fight yourself to not let yourself go.

“Like for all the other girls that you kiss after gigs, am I right?”

“What can I say, I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch,” he told you jokingly and you rolled your eyes

“Your mom wouldn't be happy to hear that,” you told him and he shrugged, “and I'm not neither.”

“I want truly to kiss you, y/n,” he repeated, “I just want to know if... I can.”

“Depends if you mean it,” you replied as you were truly about to kiss him, feeling your teeth on your lower lip, “depends if it's not only a game, like the other girls.”

“You're not the other girls, you're my princess and I want to be your prince.”

He sold it all. You dropped the cymbal as you pulled him closer by the shirt, pressing your lips against his. You had always wondered what his lips tasted like, it seemed they were made of vanilla and cigarettes and they were gentler than you thought. His hands wandered on your hips, as yours made their way to the back of his head, playing with some strokes of his hair while you kissed him, passionately, lacking air from time to time, losing yourself and everything around.

He probably was an arrogant son of a bitch, but it seemed that he was your arrogant son of a bitch.

[notsoguiltykpop]

Champion Part 10

Jungkook x Reader

Racecar driver / street racer au

Genre: Romance, slow-burn, suspense(?), fluff, slightly smutty later on in the story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 

Synopsis: You might have gotten your start on the street, but you’ve always had bigger plans. With a new sponsor backing you, you’re all set to work your way up in the motorsport world and make it big.Your dream is to take down Jeon Jungkook, who is currently one of the best drivers in the sport. He doesn’t quite know how he feels about this rookie winning all the races and getting all the attention, but it reminds him why he’s racing in the first place–to be nothing but the best, and leave everyone else in the dust.Things get complicated when he falls head over heels for the competition.

...

The strategy was set, everything planned out as much as possible, and it was looking like you were doomed to lose. You were starting near the back, and the whole team’s morale was low because of it. The garage was unusually silent, lacking the chit-chat that had become the norm before a race. No one was smiling, or even making eye contact if they could avoid it. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked Jimin after pulling him aside. You had accepted your probable defeat that morning, knowing that you’d have to pull off the impossible to stay with the team after today. Starting at the back wasn’t exactly an ideal situation. If you came in last after drawing so much attention to this race and your supposed rivalry with Jungkook, you’d make the whole team look like a joke and Hoseok wouldn’t have any choice other than to drop you.

But you weren’t expecting the rest of the team to be so down about it. 

Jimin grimaced, shrugging. “Hoseok’s been in a shit mood all morning, I’m surprised he hasn’t been onto you like he has us. I’d avoid him if you can.”

It turned out that that wasn’t hard to do at all. Hoseok was everywhere that you weren’t. He talked to the press, he chatted with other teams, and never sought you out. It wasn’t hard to figure out why; he simply had no hope for the race, and if you weren’t winning for the team, there was no reason for him to be there. 

That wasn’t going to stop you from giving it your all, though. You were convinced that there was still a chance you could come out of this okay. Then, as if the sky was taking pity on you, it started to rain.

You were in one of the trailers that were set up as your team’s offices stretching when it started, the pitter-patter on the roof increasingly loud and steady. You zipped your jumpsuit quickly and after a moment's hesitation grabbed your helmet. You left your visor up once outside so you could feel the rain on at least a small part of your face. 

You smiled for the first time that day, closing your eyes and tilting your head up to the sky. You were good in the rain. 

This changed everything, making the pavement unpredictable and forcing drivers to rely entirely on their instincts. And it might just be the miracle you needed. 

The rain stopped abruptly on your face, and you opened your eyes to see the inside of a blue umbrella over you. It took you a split second to remember that your visor was up, just long enough for you to make eye contact with the holder of said umbrella--Jungkook. You slammed it down, and braced yourself for the worst. 

“What are you doing out here?” He looked like he couldn’t stand still, hopping from one foot to the other. His suit was only done up to his waist, the top half hanging limp. He should have been cold with just his undershirt covering his torso, but he didn’t seem bothered.

You said nothing, still unsure if he had recognized you.

“Shouldn’t you be warming up? Talking to your engineer?” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe standing weirdly and looking at the sky like you’re in an 80’s music video is the way you get in the zone?” 

You shook your head and reached for your notepad, but quickly realized that you’d left it in the trailer.

Jungkook must have noticed your fumbling and waved a hand for you to stop. “We both already know it’s the 80’s music video, there’s no need to answer.” A hint of a grin started to pull at his mouth despite his best efforts, and he quickly changed the subject. “Look, I came to find you because Seokjin said you might have something you needed to say to me?”

You started to shake your head, then paused. Was Seokjin trying to give you a hint that you should tell Jungkook now? Surely not. There was too much of a chance that it would throw off Jungkook’s race. Even though a large part of you was sure that now could be the last opportunity to tell him if you wanted to salvage your relationship, there was simply too much at stake. 

“He must have just meant that you were going to wish me luck,” Jungkook concluded, though he didn’t seem too sure of it himself. “In that case, thanks, but I don’t need luck. You’re the one who needs it, and I’m not going to wish you any because that’s not what rivals do.” Jungkook smiled. “Which you would know if you weren’t such a rookie. You could learn a thing or two from me, you know.” 

You had to bite your tongue not to shoot back a smart remark.

The race was a disaster for the majority of drivers. One thing after another kept going wrong for your opposing teams, and the smallest wrong move sent your rivals hurtling off the track. 

Even you lost it for a moment, a rear tire locking up and sending you into a spin. Luckily, the only real damage was to your tires, and you were able to defend your position.

You fought your way up to fourth nearing the end of the race. Jungkook was in second, and looked like he was having trouble with his tires.

You couldn’t see exactly what happened going around the next corner--who had made the mistake or who ran into who first. All you knew was the two leading cars had collided, scattering debris across the track and into the oncoming traffic. You hit something--or perhaps it hit you, technically--that did considerable damage to the front of your car. But you could drive it enough to keep up with the safety car that was sent out on track, which was all that mattered at that point. 

The car in front of you wasn’t as lucky, having punctured a tire in the chaos and having no choice but to pit. 

Which left you in first. 

“Well done,” Taehyung said over the radio, sounding as though he was trying very hard to stay professional but couldn’t quite contain his excitement. “Two more laps to go, the race is yours.” 

“Is everyone alright?” You asked, though you knew it was unlikely Taehyung would know.

“They would’ve stopped the race if it was anything life-threatening,” Was all he responded with. 

You didn’t have a chance directly after the race to check in with anyone. Camera’s flashed, and it felt like a million people were trying to talk to you all at the same time. Yet, it was Yoongi’s voice that stood out when paired with a devilish smile he asked, “How does it feel to win literally just because you didn’t crash?”

You were glad your helmet hid the glare you sent him. 

Pushing past all of the random people who stood in your way, you made your way to your team's miniature headquarters for the weekend.

You were soaked, cold, and angry. 

The race ended behind a safety car. It hardly felt like a victory. Yoongi was right; you didn’t win, you just managed to stay on the damn track. 

You pulled your helmet off as soon as the door was shut behind you, only for it to be thrown open a moment later by Hoseok. 

“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously. “You’re supposed to be out there accepting handshakes and talking–er, writing–to journalists about what just happened. You won a race that Jungkook was in, and you’re–you’re–” He waved his hands around vaguely. “You’re acting like you lost!”

“You call that a win?” You scoffed quietly, undoing the top of your jumpsuit to let it hang around your waist. Hoseok’s frown deepened, but he said nothing. “Was anyone seriously hurt in the crash? Taehyung didn’t sound too sure over the radio.”

Your manager sighed, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms folded. “From what I’ve heard, it’s nothing serious. Mostly just some minor cuts and bruises. I overheard someone say Jeon got a concussion, but he must be feeling okay if he’s up to texting you every five minutes.“

You paused your frustrated pacing to turn to Hoseok.

"You looked at my texts?”

“Only the lock screen,” He replied mildly. “You must have dropped it in the garage earlier today, Taehyung found it.” He pulled it from his jacket pocket and held it out.

Silence hung in the air while you glanced through the texts Jungkook had sent.

[Jungkook 2:45pm] That doesn’t count as me losing just fyi! It was bad luck

[Jungkook 3:01pm] Y/n tell me ur not planning a party

[Jungkook 3:02pm] Y/n

[Jungkook 3:04pm] dude

[Jungkook 3:04pm] i didn’t lose. I DNF’d. Doesn’t count.

[Jungkook 3:05pm] am i at least invited to the celebration of someone who supposedly beat me? I expect an open bar.

It was nearly four, now. You felt a pang of guilt as though you had been ignoring him. There was no way you could have replied to his texts sooner, but he didn’t know that. You answered with a short “Are you ok?”

“I thought we talked about you two being all buddy-buddy?” Hoseok cleared his throat pointedly. “But you don’t listen to much of what I say, do you?" 

“Hoseok–”

“Forget it,” He didn’t bother to stick around to listen to your excuses, slamming the trailer door behind himself.

[Jungkook 4:09pm] yeah I’m good.

[Jungkook 4:09pm] doc says i just need to take it easy. Seojin’s a little freaked out which is pretty funny. his eye has been twitching for the last hr.

[Jungkook 4:13pm] so are we partying or what?

You chuckled, shaking your head at your phone. Jungkook really was something else.

[You 4:14pm] Nah not really feeling up to it. Rain check?

You needed to make things right with Hoseok, which meant going back out there and making an appearance for the press. 

After zipping your jumpsuit back up and securing your helmet, you stepped back outside. Yoongi was doing some kind of live show directly in front of your trailer, and he spotted you before you could change your mind and run away again. 

“…And what a perfect coincidence that you’re here!” He said as he caught your arm and pulled you lightly into the shot. You didn’t bother trying to get away. This was what Hoseok wanted, for you to stand there and let people talk at you. “We were just discussing your incredible dumb luck.”

You had a long day ahead of you. 

Before you left, you’d satisfied every journalist, signed hats, and taken pictures with what felt like half of the people in the paddock. Hoseok hadn’t been any help whatsoever, leaving without a word after an hour. When you finally dragged your feet into your house, you wanted nothing more than to shower and sleep. 

But Hoseok’s sleek mercedes-benz was parked in front, and something told you he wasn’t there to talk to Jimin. 

Cold food was left on the stove as though it’d been forgotten about, along with an untouched bowl on the table. 

You found Jimin and Hoseok in the living room, with Jimin chewing his nails and avoiding looking directly at Hoseok. 

“What’s up?” You asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice. “You disappeared on me today.” 

Hoseok’s eyes slid from where he’d been glaring at his phone over to you slowly. “You’re suspended,” He said lowly. 

“I’ll leave you two to discuss,” Jimin said abruptly, standing to leave. He patted your arm on his way out. You couldn’t blame him for wanting out of the situation, but part of you wanted to make him stay so you wouldn’t have to face Hoseok alone. 

“I don’t understand,” You made your way over to sit across from Hoseok. “I won today. I interacted with reporters, I was social–”

“When, exactly, were you going to tell me about the Coldwater situation?” He interrupted, his voice ice cold. 

You felt like the floor had dropped from under you. “I can explain,” You started. “Please, let me explain.”

“Jimin already tried arguing the whole blackmailed story,” Hoseok replied flatly. “What I don’t get is why you decided not to tell me, if it’s true. I might’ve been able to help. Or we could have come up with a plan to reveal your identity earlier than we had originally thought. We could have figured something out. But now…” He dragged a hand over his face. He looked tired, haggered, as though this one conversation had taken every bit of energy out of him.

“I thought I could handle it,” The words felt hollow as you said them.

“No,” Hoseok shook his head. “You thought you could get away with it. There’s a difference.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that. “I’m indefinitely suspending you from the team.”

You could feel panic rising, and you tried to take a breath to calm yourself. “No. I made a mistake, and I’m so, so sorry. But I’ll make it up to you. I won today, I’m good for the team.

Hoseok’s expression didn’t change. “The only reason I’m not terminating the contract right now is because you just won.” He shook his head. “When we met, I told you my conditions were honesty, and no more illegal activity. I needed to know I could trust you, above anything else. And clearly, I can’t.” He shrugged, standing from the couch. He suddenly didn’t even seem angry anymore, just disappointed and resigned. “I’ll let you know when I decide what further action I’ll be taking. Don’t bother to show up for practice on Monday.” 

After Hoseok was gone, you stood slowly, hardly even aware of what you were doing. 

“Y/n…” Jimin hovered in the doorway, looking as lost as you felt. “He’ll come around.”

“I’m going for a drive,” You muttered, stepping past him. 

“Y/n,” He tried again. “Give it some time. Think about it from Hoseok’s perspective, it’s a lot to take in. But he’ll understand once he has a chance to think it all over.”

But you could tell from his tone he was just as scared of the future as you were. 

You didn’t plan to drive to Jungkook’s house. You got on the highway on autopilot, and went wherever felt right until you found yourself only a block away. Even then, you weren’t planning to see him until you realized it would be creepy to have driven all the way there only to sit in your car across the street. His lights were on, so you knocked once, twice. Just when you were about to call it a night and leave, he opened the door. 

“Hey…” Jungkook paused, as though waiting for you to explain. “I wasn’t expecting… Did you text?” He glanced at his phone as he spoke to check it. He looked sleepy, and you wondered if you’d woken him up. Above his right temple was a bruised cut with two stitches.

“No,” You shook your head, suddenly feeling like you should have just sat in your car and been weird. “I just…Sorry, it’s late. I should go.”

Jungkook blinked owlishly at you. “It is late. You should stay.” He stepped out of the way for you to come in, then waved for you to follow him. He stretched and yawned loudly as he went. "There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry.” 

Jungkook had apparently been half-trying to play a zombie apocalypse video game, too tired to get past the level but too awake to sleep. You could relate to that feeling; you yourself were exhausted, both mentally and physically, but you knew if you tried to sleep now you’d lay staring at the ceiling until morning. He switched the game to multiplayer and tossed you a controller before asking; “Is everything alright?”

You focused on the game for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer. “Not really. But I’d rather not think about it.” 

Jungkook frowned slightly, but let it drop for the moment. You were sitting on his bed side by side in front of the slightly ridiculously large screen on his wall. "I watched the playback of the crash,” You noted as Jungkook’s avatar fell off the rooftop only to respawn a moment later. “It looked pretty bad. Are you really okay?”

“You didn’t see it live?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow teasingly, but you suspected it was a genuine question.

“I missed it in all the commotion,” This, at least, was true. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Jungkook smirked. “Did you come over because you were worried about me?”

“I was worried,“ You admitted. "But no, that’s not the only reason.” You were trying to be more honest with him, even if you didn’t much like it.

Jungkook sighed and leaned back on the pillows, ignoring the game completely now. “I’ll be fine. The doctor said I could go home, so…” He shrugged. “My reserve driver will have to drive in my place for a race or two, but I’ll be back to a hundred percent by the rematch.” 

“Rematch?” You repeated, now setting down your own controller to look at him.

Jungkook nodded as though it was obvious. “I didn’t win today. But,” He held a finger up. “There’s no way 52 is satisfied with the result either. We need to race one on one to settle this.”

“Jungkook…” You started, not sure yet where you were going with this. As the situation currently stood, it didn’t look likely that you’d be able to race him a second time–or anyone else, for that matter. "That… Might be a difficult thing to talk Hoseok into. And anyway, how could you arrange a race with just two teams…?”

Jungkook shrugged, unconcerned. “We could do it for charity. I don’t see any reason why Hoseok wouldn’t agree to it.” He tilted his head to the side. “Unless there’s something I don’t know?”

You shook your head somewhat unconvincingly. There was a mutual understanding between you that, though you joked about the rivalry between Jungkook and ‘52’, actual team politics and strategies were off limits. Up to this point, Jungkook had never asked you who 52 was, what was going on within the team, or what Hoseok’s greater plans were because it would put you in an uncomfortable spot.

“I ran into Hoseok while leaving the paddock,” Jungkook mused. “He seemed pretty angry for a guy whose team just won a race I participated in.”

“You realize how egocentric that last bit made you sound?”

“Is it egocentric if it’s true?” He countered without missing a beat. You hoped he would take the bait and get distracted, but he didn’t fall for it this time. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed how weird he was acting. There’s a rumor he and 52 had some kind of falling out.”

It was easy to forget sometimes just how perceptive Jungkook could be. You couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t an outright lie or would give too much away, so you picked up the game controller again.

“Does that mean it’s true?” He asked. If anything, your silence seemed to have made him more interested. 

“Can we just not talk about Hoseok’s driver?” It came out harsher than you intended, and Jungkook looked taken aback. “What difference does it make to you, anyway? It’s not like 52 being stupid and pissing Hoseok off is going to affect you.”

“I thought you liked 52,” Jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What did he do?”

“Ruined everything,” You muttered. The game wasn’t fun anymore, and this wasn’t the distraction you had hoped it would be. You took a shaky breath and looked down at the controller in your hands rather than at Jungkook. “That fucking asshole 52 ruined everything.”

You were very aware of Jungkook’s gaze on you, and the fact that he could probably tell that you were holding things back. 

It was over, you realized. There was no reason for you to continue lying to him about being 52.

“Jungkook, 52 and I--” You closed your eyes. It was like a bandaid, you just needed to rip it off. Except the pain wouldn’t go away after you ripped it. You could lose Jungkook completely, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that right now. 

“Did 52 hurt you?” Jungkook interrupted as though he said the words as soon as it occurred to him. 

You opened your eyes to look at him. You were so caught up in your own thoughts it took a second to comprehend, and Jungkook took your pause as confirmation. 

“If he did, I swear to god, I’ll figure out where the fuckwad lives and--” He was halfway out of bed as he spoke, though you weren’t sure where he thought he was going in his t-shirt and boxers at 3am. 

“It’s nothing like that!” You couldn’t help the slight laugh as you caught his arm and pulled him back onto the bed. You knew it shouldn’t be funny, and tried to fix your face into something serious. “You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” 

Jungkook didn’t look entirely convinced, but he settled back down next to you against the pillows.

“52 and I...Aren’t getting along too well right now. Maybe you should ask Hoseok what happened.” You hated that you couldn’t get the words out. But you couldn’t lose Jungkook tonight, too. “Can we talk about something else?”

Jungkook looked anything but satisfied with your response, but shrugged with one shoulder before rolling onto his side so he was facing you, his head propped on his hand. “Sure.”

You scooted closer to him, getting comfortable while you tried to think of how to phrase your next question. “You’ve talked about retiring from racing since we first met,” You started, and Jungkook nodded. “But you’ve never really told me why. I don’t understand why anyone would willingly leave the sport. Especially someone who loves it as much as you do.”

Jungkook chewed his lip for a moment. “I do love the sport,” He agreed, a small smile flickering across his face. “And I think I always will. But it’s not really a part-time thing, you know?”

You shook your head no.

“There are other things I want to do, and I don’t really have time as long as I’m a driver.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do, then?”

Jungkook cleared his throat, glancing away from you. “You’re going to laugh.”

“I won’t.” 

“You will.”

“Jungkook.”

He reluctantly met your eyes once more. “I want to open a lamb skewer restaurant.” 

“Well. That’s very specific,” You said, trying very hard not to laugh. It wasn’t that his dream was funny so much as the way he was telling you about it. His ears were red, and he was pouting ever so slightly.

“I knew you’d laugh,” He complained. 

“I’m not laughing,” You lied, unable to hold in your giggles. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s just,” You interrupted yourself to catch his lips with your own, one hand traveling up to run through his hair. “You told me yourself that you can’t cook.” 

Despite himself, Jungkook grinned back. “I said I want to own the restaurant, not be the chef.” He moved so his legs straddled one of yours, his body tantalizingly close to your own without actually touching you. 

“And I suppose you’ll have a wall dedicated to displaying all of your trophies?” You asked. You wanted him closer to you, but he already knew that. You could see it in the glint in his eyes. He wanted you to make the first move.

And just like that, it became an unspoken competition. 

“Please,” Jungkook lowered himself just a hair, leaning in as though he was about to kiss you but stopping when his lips barely brushed yours. “I’d need more than just one wall for all of my trophies. And then I wouldn’t have room for the stage.”

“The stage?” You repeated, eyebrows raised. “Why do you need a stage in a lamb skewer restaurant?” One of your hands ghosted up his arm and down his abdomen to pull at the hem of his t-shirt without quite touching him. It ended up bunched around his shoulders, but he didn’t take it off.

“For the live bands,” He smirked, one hand leaving where it had been propped near your head to slowly make its way down your side. You could just barely feel his fingers through your jeans as they traced their way down your thigh and back up painfully slow. “And the stand-up comedians... And open mic nights…” You could see his resolve beginning to melt.

“You’re not really going to have open mic nights, are you?” You teased, then lowered your voice to a whisper. “What if someone covers a nickelback song?”

Jungkook actually snorted at that. “That would be unfortunate. Which is why open mic nights would be a twice-a-year thing, and I’d pre-approve the song list.”

His lips were once more mere centimeters away, just barely out of reach. 

“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” You asked, all joking leaving your voice. 

“I have,” He nodded, his hair tickling your forehead as he did so. There was something akin to worry in his eyes, and you reached up to brush his hair away from his face. 

“I think your restaurant sounds wonderful,” You assured him, and you noticed an immediate change in his facial expression. Any sign of worry was gone, replaced by a playful glint in his eyes. 

“You won’t think I’m boring if I leave the sport?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to be boring.”

“So true,” Jungkook leaned forward and finally kissed you slowly. You pulled him closer, reveling in his warmth. 

When you pulled away briefly to breath, you couldn’t help but mutter, “I totally just won that, by the way.” 

Jungkook laughed, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. “Somehow, I’m okay with that.”

...

A/N Omg thank you for sticking around to read this! Hopefully I'll be updating a little more frequently now. What are your thoughts? Feelings? Let me know! I absolutely love hearing from you guys--your wonderful feedback is what makes this so much fun. Thank you so much for reading! And I hope you're all taking care of yourselves and staying safe. I'm here for you guys! If you ever need an ear to listen, someone to rant to, or anything else, my inbox is always open! I love you all <3