#there you go. just gave you a golden ticket. go cash it.

[hood-ex]

Talon!Dick is so cute sometimes. And then sometimes he just wants to burn the world or what have you. But y'know.

✨Duality✨

[uzurimisery]

translation: kiss me. / hinata shouyou x reader

Hinata Shouyou’s schedule was packed. Delivery job, language tutoring by his roommate, and practice. Short on cash and not wanting to burden his mom, he picks up another job at an acai shop. It’s mundane and boring but at least he’s got a cute coworker to keep him company and help practice his language skills. 

A/N: This fic has a language barrier written in Hinata’s POV. The words he doesn’t know, if not translated by someone in the story, will appear as “.....” to signify he doesn’t know what’s being said. Reader is Brazilian!

Part of the @interstellar-inn 'Help Wanted' mini-collab

“Hey, Shouyou!” The bells on the door jingled as Hinata threw it open with his shoulder, a volleyball under one arm and his bike helmet under the other, jumbling his volleyball gear between the two.

It was hot out today. 35 degrees Celsius, something like 88 if he did the math to convert it to Fahrenheit, sweat dripping down his neck and past his tank top, riveting down his freckle-covered back. You were behind the counter, in tiny shorts, a white short-sleeve button-up left open, and a blue bikini underneath, scooping acai puree into a to-go bowl, most likely a delivery or pickup order. He liked this one the most on you. The shade just complimented your skin so nicely. Made it seem golden as it shone from the layers of body butter and SPF you had on.

“Oh my god, it’s so hot today!” You grinned at him as he moved past the counter to the backroom to drop off his stuff.

God, you were so cute bobbing along to the Bossa Nova playlist you always changed it to at the start of your shift. While you didn’t mind the Sertanejo that the owner, your aunt, had going, you always said that Bossa Nova was better, more lively, and reminded you of childhood joy and dancing around with your Avô in your grandparents' apartment in Sao Paulo every summer you’d go and see them. You told him he’d understand it better the longer he lived here and became “Brazilian” like you.

Hinata chucked to himself as he returned to the front, free of all his baggage, a towel now draped over his shoulder.

“How are you?” Every time you looked at him and gave a gummy smile like that he thought his heart might burst as the apples of your cheeks eclipsed your eyes, joy palpable in your every feature.

He leaned against the counter as he answered “I’m good, you?”

You turned, reaching to scoop some coconut onto the bowl, referencing your order ticket. “I’m great now that you’re here!” you replied, still moving to the rhythm of Agua de Beber, the movement of your hips drawing his eyes.

You really had the moves. 

“How was practice?” you were facing him again, an eyebrow raised, totally catching him in the act of staring at your ass. A flush crept across his face, hoping that you hadn’t caught a good enough look at him as he came into the shop and he could blame it on the sun.

“It was good! Heitor and I are really getting into the uh…” he trailed off, searching for the word.

“Fluxo?” You supplied, dumping the coconut into the left side of the bowl, next to the bananas. You were always so systematic with how you constructed the bowls. Hinata’s focus was distracted as you turned to the back wall, standing on your tippy toes shorts riding up a bit, reaching for the milk powder. He liked the way your legs looked.

“Huh?” He moved quickly and grabbed it for you. Every day he was glad your aunt had it on a top shelf. 

“Thank you, ninja,” You giggled as you took the container and scooped out some powder. “Fluxo. You know? Like a river.” 

Hinata thought for a second, going through his context clues, piecing together the meaning of the word bit by bit.

“Oh!” It clicked. “Flow! Like a river.”

“Exactly.” He liked it when he got things right, your praise was a dopamine rush. The corners of your eyes crinkling with warmth. It made him feel like he was on top of the world.

“Hey, maybe you could come to our next game?” Hinata suggested, feeling a little bolder from your giggles, a hand still coming to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’d love that!” Your eyes lit up as you replied. “Let me know when and where?” 

“I will.” The promise was easy, the thought of you sitting on the sidelines cheering him on. If he’d won maybe he’d convince you to go get dinner with him too. 

The work day continued normally, the sun dipping lower in the sky, the two of you beginning to wrap up closing as it did. The golden glow seeped through the windows as you wiped down the counter. So mundane, but Hinata swore you never looked prettier. Stray curls in your face, a few caressing your neck. You had thrown your hair up during the middle of the shift, complaining how your neck was too hot with it down. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even as he stacked the chairs together, flipping them upside down on the tables so he could mop. The way you moved, the gentle concentration on your face as you cleaned and organized. It made his heart flutter like crazy. Gave him the same adrenaline rush as being on the court almost. 

As the last customers left,  the two of you wrapped up cleaning. A comfortable silence between you punctuated by the soft musings of Elis Regina in the background. 

“Almost done,” you called out, pulling the cash from the register and depositing it in the safe. “Ready for the beach?”

“Always.” He grabbed his stuff from the back, leaving his volleyball gear for morning practice near the shop, and the two of you walked out of the shop. The two of you were going to a beach party Heitor organized. 

Your excitement was contagious to him. “Me neither. Let’s get out of here!” You cheered as you locked up the shop.

The walk to the party was a short 15 minutes. It was near where they normally practiced, but a span of umbrellas and fold-up tables were set up there. 20 or so people were strewn about, some were drinking under umbrellas, a caipirinha being passed around,  while others were dancing on the makeshift dance floor to some funk that had been created. Their laughter and conversations blending with the music. The small get-together was in full swing, the energy high. 

“Hey Heitor! What the hell is this music? Fuck, …… some better funk.” You called out as Hinata and you met up with Heitor, reaching out to hug him, followed by hugging Nice. Hinata missed a few words but could tell you were complaining about the music.

“........ my choice of music, huh?” Heitor threw his head back as he laughed, clapping Hinata on the back with a short greeting. 

You rolled your eyes, slipping off your button-up. “Because your taste in music is shit!”

“That’s it!” Heitor sprung into action and began chasing you around the party, sand flying up behind you. 

Nice laughed next to Hinata and turned to hug him, kissing his cheeks in greeting. “They’re always like this. Cats and dogs I swear.”

“Yeah, they are.” Hinata watched on as you and Heitor continued your chase. The party seemed more vibrant and full of life as you ran around screaming at Heitor. He didn’t understand a lot of what you said, but your energy was infectious with everyone picking up on it, laughing a lot more. Hinata couldn’t help but laugh along.

After a few minutes, you came to hide behind Hinata, your chest pressing against his back as you heaved heavy breaths. “Help me, he’s a monster.” Your words were breathy, ghosting around the shell of his ear. 

“I’m not a monster! You are just …… work out…… my teammate!” Heitor caught up to you, hardly labored from chasing you around.

He didn’t know what took over him, but he pivoted, bent at the waist, scooped you up over his shoulder, and began running away from Heitor. Nice fell over laughing as Heitor threw his arms up in betrayal. Hinata had one hand on your waist, the other placed on the back of your upper thighs, as you laughed as best you could while being breathless. 

Hinata didn’t run far, about 10 meters away from the party before setting you down. You dramatically fell back, letting yourself collapse against the warm sand, spread out like a starfish.

“My hero! Thanks for saving me,” You were still breathless as you spoke, smiling up at him. 

“Anytime.” He chuckled.

You reached up grabbing his hand to pull him down with you. He was scared of landing on top of you as he went down so he twisted his body to try and avoid it. But by some strain of misfortune, he moved in just a way that left him landing above you, hands catching himself, hitting the sand near your head, his knees landing between your legs. Caging you under him.

For a moment, the music and chatter of the party faded away as he stared down at you, his breath mixing with yours. You were so pretty. Big-eyed staring up at him, lips glossed and slightly parted. He was so close he could see all the little imperfections on your skin that made you so human.  His heartbeat picked up, the unexpected closeness setting him off. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper but making no move to get off of you. 

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he wetted them, the pink of his tongue visible for a second. 

“It’s okay.”

Neither one of you moved, afraid to break the spell. Hinata swore he could feel electricity sparking in the air. That he could feel his pulse echoing in his heart, mimicking the rapid beat of the far-off music. He traced the contours of your face, committing the small details to memory, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. 

His hands itched to move, to touch you more, to wrap around your own. The intensity he felt was mirrored in your eyes. He wanted to close the gap. Feel the soft press of your lips against his own as you lay there wrapped by the ocean breeze. 

“Posso te beijar?” You asked him, eyes switching between his own eyes and lips.

He was so frazzled. “I, uh, I don’t understand.” God he wished he was fluent.

You grinned, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’ll show you.” 

He nodded, his heart beating fast. “Yes please.” He breathed his voice like a whisper.

The space between you disappeared as your lips met his in a tender kiss. It was soft and sweet and tasted like your vanilla lip gloss. The gentle press of your lips sent a shiver down his spine, the months of yearning settling in his belly as a swarm of butterflies. 

©️ uzuzrimisery

[otomiyaa]

Love Is Hard for a Broke Otaku

Narumi x Hirotaka

A/N: In wave of inspiration I drafted 3 new fics yesterday and THIS WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. This one just spawned today and it's the fault of @dokidoki-muffin and her amazing art that inspired me🤭

Summary: Narumi and Hirotaka continue dating with the golden rule: no otaku talk during their romantic outings unless you would like to contribute to the piggy bank. A great rule for those who have money. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 2.2K

Such a beautiful spring day! It was the perfect Shoujo scenario date. A stroll in the park, a swan boat date surrounded by couples, a romantic picnic for two while enjoying the beautiful sunset...

"We're being so romantic, Hirotaka! Seeing us together like this, I ship us harder than Dr. Ratio and Aventurine, which says a lot! Their chemistry is really off the charts!"

Without a word, Hirotaka instantly held out the otaku-off-limits piggy bank. Narumi gasped. Where did he get that! As if the damn thing just spawned in his hands like a video game item!

"Too bad, Narumi. You held out for so long without breaking the rule," Hirotaka said dramatically.

"You brought Bernard?!" she shrieked.

"I still disagree with that name. But yes. Penalty time, you geeked out," Hirotaka said. Narumi sighed and covered her face with her hands.

"Geek out, geek out? H-how did I geek out?"

"You talked about Honkai Star Rail, again. On top of that, a BL couple. It is against our dating rule."

"You're so mean, Hirotaka! Besides, Honkai Star Rail is a game. You should geek out with me then."

"That's not the rule. Besides, I already told you it's not my kind of game. Pay up," Hirotaka said, and he shook the piggy bank. Narumi listened to the sound of the coins inside and she sighed.

"Can you forgive me this once?" she asked, feeling her pockets. Not even a 1-yen coin was left.

"Why? You know it's our date-rule. You made me pay too, the other day. Twice."

"But that was because you wouldn't stop bringing up Monster Hunter. Paying twice was the ultimate minimum compared to how much you geeked out."

"I also recall you made me pay when we went to Disney Sea too, last weekend."

"But you wouldn't stop doing these unnecessary raids in Pokemon Go!" Narumi whined. Hirotaka glared at her.

"I don't see the difference. So, rules are rules. You pay. That would be 500 yen, miss." He held out the piggy bank. Narumi fiddled with her clothes.

"Then... can I pay later?" she asked. Hirotaka cocked his head.

"I don't see why. Don't tell me you're broke?"

.... Narumi hesitated for too long, so Hirotaka gasped. "You are broke!" he yelled, and Narumi quickly grabbed his hands.

"No no no, I'm not broke! I'm just out of cash! Don't forget I bought us drinks and ice cream for our date today! That was everything I had with me... today! I have money at home, a-and on my bank account!"

Narumi felt her cheeks getting red knowing that was not true, especially when Hirotaka gave her this judging stare.

"Do you really?" he asked. "So when we go to your home now, or to the bank, you can pay?"

Narumi blushed and bit her lip. Nooo! "M-maybe?" she said. Hirotaka sighed.

"Just what did you do with your money this time?" he asked. Narumi nervously played with her clothes.

"Well... T-there were tickets on sale for Comic Con..."

"Ah, Comic Con. I remember you asked me to go. Those tickets are expensive," Hirotaka said.

"Hmm yes, you turned me down. S-so I still bought two tickets, for Hana-chan and me."

Hirotaka frowned. "And...?" he asked. Narumi lowered her head.

"I a-accidentally bought them twice."

Hirotaka jumped up again. "What! Twice? How?"

Narumi shrugged. "Well you see, these things happen. They were on sale on the website, and you have to be there soon because they sell out fast - a-and there was also a special sale that included a meet & greet with my favorite seiyuu on another website. I wanted to make sure to get at least one of them! I was in the online queue on the two websites and, actually ended up getting both! I didn't expect I would. It's a miracle."

"...A miracle that cost you a lot of money. So, you can just sell one set, right?"

"I can't. One has the VIP package and the other has the special meet & greet! They're different! I have to keep both!"

Hirotaka groaned. "Are you serious right now? You can't just pay entrance fee once and the special packages separately? Sounds like a scam. So anyway, that's why you're broke?"

"It's not a scam, just my mistake! Hana-chan didn't want to sell hers and I I kind of said I could keep mine too... And yes now I am broke, but only for the weekend. Hana-chan will pay me back her share when we are at the office. I have food at home too. I'll be fine."

It had really not been Narumi's intention to spill the truth about this unfortunate money situation to Hirotaka. It all went so well, with her just offering the little money she had for the least expensive treats today, such as drinks and ice cream, while Hirotaka paid their lunch, picnic snacks and boat ride like a true gentleman. He originally wasn't going to find out about the her blunder, and about her greed.

To think that her geeking out about one of her favorite BL pairings was the cause of this.

Speaking of...

"That's a shame. You do owe me then," Hirotaka said. Narumi jolted, sad that he was really returning to the penalty topic.

"Y-yes! I'll pay later!"

Hirotaka shook his head. "I mean, it's not about the money. You know that. More like, the small punishment for breaking the rule to keep our dates romantic." He smiled, and Narumi's heart fluttered.

"Romantic.." she mumbled with a blush, remembering why they had installed the rule in the first place. It wasn't always easy to be the friends-to-lovers couple after all.

"I think I can let you off, if we change the punishment. How about that?" Hirotaka suggested. Narumi cried out in delight and nodded.

"Yes. Yes! What should I do?"

Hirotaka stared into the distance. He pointed. "Run up and down those stairs."

Narumi stared at the huge ass stairs, leading to the shrine they didn't visit today for the exact reason of those stairs being too damn long.

"...Twice," Hirotaka said with a smirk. Narumi looked at him in horror.

"You might as well just kill me then," she said dramatically.

"Or... You'll let me tickle you. For..." Hirotaka said, taking his phone and tapping something. He then held up the timer.

"...Six whole minutes."

"Six? That's specific. Not five?"

"Six. So, would you agree?" Hirotaka asked. Narumi nodded.

"Sure, let's go home first."

Hirotaka shook his head. "No, we'll do it here." Narumi gulped and looked around the park. There were couples everywhere. Families... Dogs. People.

"Why, are you embarrassed? It's not like there's anyone we know here."

"B-b-but!" Narumi squeezed Hirotaka's hands and she shook her head. Did he really think so lightly of getting tickled in public? Someone as ticklish as her?!

"M-m-my dignity!" she stuttered, and she grabbed Hirotaka's shirt and tugged it repeatedly.

"You have to spare my dignity!"

"Hm? What dignity?" was Hirotaka's cold reply. Oof! Meanie! Narumi let out a whine and leaned her head against his chest.

"Is there really no third option?" she asked. Hirotaka chuckled.

"No, it's either stairs or tickling." The villain. He obviously knew Narumi couldn't even run up and down those stairs twice, having the stamina of a wanky banana peel. She'd strand in the middle and gasp for air like an old woman on her dying bed. Now that might even be more embarrassing than getting tickled.

"F-f-fine.... Tickle me then," she finally sighed. "But if people laugh at me, you have to stand up for me and tell them I'm beautiful."

Hirotaka smirked. "Don't you worry. You'll be doing most of the laughing here. Let's not mind other people."

That made Narumi blush, and she repositioned herself on their picnic sheet, shuffling awkwardly.

"S-so what do I do?" she asked while Hirotaka put his phone down.

"You come to me," he said. He turned on the timer and spread his arms.

"Come here," he said gently, and for a moment he really looked gentle, welcoming his precious girlfriend for a hug. But the moment she moved closer, she could already see his expression change. This wasn't Hirotaka being gentle, this was her villain boyfriend who was way too smug as he lured her into his tickle trap!

"Gotcha," Hirotaka said when she was so flustered she tried to move away again, and he locked her in his arms, bringing one hand to her side while the other moved up, immediately aiming for her underarm.

"Wawawa-wahahhaait Hirotakahahaha! Spahahare me a lihihittle!" Narumi whined when his fingers began to wiggle around their chosen tickle spots. She wriggled and squirmed in his arms, but Hirotaka reminded her he wasn't as weak as he looked - no offense, but it was the truth! And she couldn't help but love him for it.

"It's better to not mind them," Hirotaka said when Narumi couldn't help but turn her head to watch the judging couples in the distance. So embarrassing! It wasn't as if her getting tickled was the worst that was happening out here! Look, there were people kissing over there! Aaah!

"Buhuhut- aahaha! Wait no- not thehere!" Narumi laughed. Hirotaka had moved the hand on her lower side further up and tickled her ribs, while the other continued to gently wiggle its fingers under her arm. Narumi grabbed Hirotaka's jacket and she shook with hysterical laughter.

"I'm gohohonna ehehexplode!" she howled dramatically. Hirotaka chuckled fondly.

"No you won't," he said, and she gulped when he suddenly pushed her down on her back. He towered over her and grabbed both sides of her ribcage, his fingers racing up and down as if she was playing a game. Narumi squealed and tried to grab his hands and pry them off her as a reflex, but to no avail.

"Aaaahahaha nohoho it tihicklehehes!" she whined.

Hirotaka even captured both her hands and only needed one hand to pin them above her head. With the other he clawed and poked her ticklish armpit that was now helplessly exposed.

"HIROTAHAAKAAAA!" Narumi kicked her legs, messing up their picnic sheet. Despite everything she was very aware of the people staring at her and the way it made her blush - but even more aware of her boyfriend's fingers tickling and making her blush even worse!

"Three more minutes. We're halfway there," Hirotaka informered her, and Narumi shook her head wildly.

"Bwahahaha I cahahan't take ahahanymohohore!" she cackled. The fond smile Hirotaka showed her was so unfair.

"I'm sure you can," he said. He released her hands and continued the tickle attack by wiggling his fingers all over her tummy. Narumi screeched and tried to curl up. Reluctant to hit her precious attacker in the face, she pounded the picnic sheet like a madwoman.

"Plehehease! Hahahave mehehercy!" she shrieked. Hirotaka glanced at his phone.

"I will. After two minutes and fourteen seconds."

"Gahaahha I wihihill dieeehehehe!" Narumi wailed. She weakly tried to crawl away, but Hirotaka only needed to tickle her underarms again to make her collapse. He then settled with wrecking her socked feet for the remaining minutes. Hirotaka was pure evil.

"Nyaahhaahaha I cahahan't breheheathe!"

"You're doing just fine."

Narumi was sure he cheated. He must've secretly extended the timer or something, because no way had it actually been six minutes by the time he stopped. It felt like it was way longer. Narumi wrapped her arms around her stomach and wheezed.

Hirotaka looked at her with a charming smile.

"Game over, right? Well, I must admit this was way more enjoyable. If you like, we can just stop paying to Bernard and tickle-punish you instead, anytime you act like an otaku during our dates."

".....Pffffthehehe," Narumi giggled, muffling the sound with the back of her hand.

"Hmm? Still feeling ticklish?" Hirotaka asked teasingly. She shook her head.

"You called the piggy bank Bernard."

"Oh. Yes, I guess I did."

"And, introducing the tickle punishment as a permanent penalty means I get to tickle you too."

"....Oh. I guess so?" Hirotaka said, suddenly sounding a lot less smug and confident.

"And I will claim my six minutes right away, because you just said a gamer otaku thing."

"Huh?!"

"You said 'game over', that counts."

"Eh? It's a general phrase! Anyone would say 'game over'. Non-gamers would say it too."

"No, let me tickle you. Six minutes tickle punishment coming right up!"

"That's way too long for- aaaahh!" Narumi was suddenly no longer tired now that she chased after Hirotaka who was acting way more flustered all of a sudden. He tried to get away but she pounced on him and immediately began to tickle.

"Ahahahah! Nahaharumi! At leheheast tuhuhurn ohohon the tihihimer ahahaha!"

"Naah, you can keep count for me!" Narumi sang teasingly, and she enjoyed the sound of Hirotaka's cute laughter. She kind of agreed with him now. This was a lot more fun than the piggy bank.

And what was also a lot more fun: at the end of their park date filled with embarrassing tickle punishments, Hirotaka came with the sweetest suggestion. He'd buy the extra ticket for Comic Con from her, and convince Kabakura to join Hanako as well. They would attend the event with all four of them, while Narumi and Hanako could experience all of the extras as they wished. Woohoo!

Evil tickle monster tendencies aside, he really was the cutest boyfriend ever!

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

9 & 12 for the asks MWAH!!!!!!

9. Tell a story about your childhood

The only thing i can think of off the top of my head is that one time when i was like 6 my sibling (who mustve been around 9 at the time) and i had the same dream. Dont really remember the specifics of the dream but i remember waking up in the morning and my sibling was sitting on the floor of our room and they asked me very seriously if i had the same dream and i said yes and they went "you know that means someones going to die right?" and i said okay and we went on with the day as usual. Then when we got home from school that day our mother told us that our great grandmother had died and my sibling gave me this dreadful look that was somewhere between "i told you so" and immense grief (out of the two of us, they got all the ability to respond to a situation with emotion). Lots to think about there of course but honestly sharing a room will just do that to you

12. What's some good advice you want to share?

Always carry a lighter, a deck of cards, a writing utensil, and cash-- the lighter is what u use to bond with smokers and make friends, the cards can be used to make friends in any situation, the writing utensil is because theres always something that needs to be written down, and cash is the golden ticket for everything. It is genuinely shocking how many tricky or uncomfortable situations you can get yourself out of with these things like seriously its incredible

[authormahimistry]

Dirty Wild Sultan

4

Nasrin

I looked at the lavish interior of my hotel suite. Being a Princess of Maahnoor, I could afford to stay in a suite. The chilly breeze from the balcony ruffling my hair, laughter and music echoing in the city below. I averted my eyes to the suitcase beside the vanity. It was open, barely unpacked after arriving in Azmia for a night, using the ticket Imran had gifted me.

I ran a hand down my face, tucking the strands of my hair behind my ears. I needed to calm down and think. Be smart about the whole ridiculous ordeal. There must be a loophole. 

You have to marry him. My father had said over the phone, his voice raspy with age, when I had landed in Azmia. I could hear the cruel smile in his voice. How I could ever be related to that man was a wonder on its own. 

I couldn’t escape to London anymore. I had a student loan to pay off and my father took care of the money that he allowed me to spend. I still had some little cash that I had earned during my part-time job at a vet clinic in London, but it wasn’t enough to run away. Barely enough to survive.

Clenching my fists, I stood up from the bed and made my way to the vanity mirror. Staring back at the angry dark eyes, I promised myself that I would never marry that old man or any other consorts of my father’s choice. I won’t let myself suffer again. I will fight him. 

The emerald jewelry of my mother glinted with the light. The golden intricate design feeling soft against the pad of my finger and the huge emerald diamond, shaped as a dewdrop hanging below it. My mother’s maang tikka. She had worn it as a family tradition during her wedding and gave it to me on her deathbed, promising me to wear it when I marry the person I love. She had regretted marrying my father, but she loved her children, loved us. So she wanted me not to repeat her mistake. Choose my heart over anything else. 

I will keep that promise, Mother. Saying that to myself, I safely kept the jewelry in the drawer.

With a little hope, I stripped out of the jeans and tee shirt, donning a stunning black dress that felt liquid on my skin. Barely leaving anything to the imagination and accentuating my hips and curves, ending at my thigh. I adjusted the cleavage and the thin straps before applying minimal makeup. 

Azmia was well known for its popular bars and clubs. Rumor had it that many celebrities and even royals themselves liked to party in the clubs. I could take a night off that I very well deserved and enjoy New Year’s Eve. 

***

Tipping my head back, I swallowed the gin, licking my lips as I kept the glass on the counter. Pop music played in the background, people dancing and laughing on the stage, neon lights flashing over everyone’s bodies, glistening with sweat. I eyed the throng of the strangers’ faces, everyone enjoying in their own bubble, drinking, dancing, grinning.

Only half an hour left before the new year. 

I hesitated only for a moment when the music changed to something heady, flowing between everyone, caressing my bare arms as if urging me to dance like a sensual lover. No one was going to give me another look here. No one knew that I was Princess Nasrin, the only Princess of Maahnoor. No one would care. 

And if they did, they could very well go fuck themselves with a stick up their ass. 

With my chin high, I stepped onto the dance floor, the music thrumming in my veins, the aftertaste of gin coating my mouth, encouraging me to close my eyes and move. Move my body the way I wanted it to, without the judgement of others. Just me and the music. 

I danced, moving my hips and arms, caressing them with each new dance step, sweat coating my golden skin as I giggled and danced with three women. Our eyes bright as we swayed to the beat of the earthy, exotic music, getting lost in it. 

“You look so sexy,” a man slurred, hiccupping when he tried to wrap his arms around my waist. 

Stepping back, I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t budge. “I am not interested,” I said clearly, batting away his hands that tried to touch me. 

“Then why are you dressed like that?” 

Oh, for the love of—

“Because it’s her body and she can dress however she wants.” I turned my head to the smoky voice of the most handsome man I had ever seen. He glared at the man and spoke with authority, “Leave before I call security and have you arrested.”

I raised my brow when it seemed to work. The stranger took a step back, glancing between the two of us. “Who are you to step between us? I was just asking to dance with her.”

The handsome stranger’s eyes glittered, “I am the—”

“He is my husband, right, darling?” I smiled, leaning close to him. 

“I am?” he questioned, tilting his head at me. The man scoffed, which made him glare at him again. “Yes, this beautiful woman is my wife. If you won’t leave us, I will call security.”

He left, leaving me with the handsome stranger.

He faced me, and my heart stuttered for a moment. His obsidian eyes pinned me in place while I tried not to trip in my heels, his tall, lean frame towering over me. The shirt he wore stretched over his broad shoulders, the shadows and lights of the club shadowing his chiseled sharp face. For a moment, I thought there was something familiar about him. My mind nagging at me to step back at the predatory glint in his eyes. Step back and hide myself. 

But I didn’t move. 

I couldn’t move. 

I was in awe of his beauty. Captivated. The sheer power pouring out of him, people holding their breath when they looked between us. The music blurred out, as if I was underwater, shamelessly staring at the man who stood across from me. A head taller than me, even though I was tall for a female with the heels donning my feet. But he didn’t make me feel small. No, he made me feel different. The feeling I couldn’t put a finger on when he tipped my jaw towards him, the soft touch of his finger burning my skin, flaming it.

“You are Limerence,” he spoke, his voice so deep and smooth that I wanted to sigh.

We were so close that my chest brushed his shirt. I took a deep breath, controlling myself from inviting him to my hotel room. By the way he expelled sheer male sexuality, everyone gawking at him with heart eyes. I knew he would be good—no, terrific, in bed. 

I heard myself say, “What?” 

He blinked at me, his long lashes making shadows on his sharp cheekbones. The dark slashing of his brows made his eyes seem hooded. 

“Limerence, my wife,” he replied in his husky voice. 

My wife. My thighs clenched at the way he said it, so tenderly. His accent was laced with thick British English, as if he wasn’t from here. But the tanned golden skin, his tousled dark hair and eyes pointed otherwise. 

“Ten, nine, eight—”

We both broke out of the bubble at the same time, looking around to see people screaming down the numbers. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. 

“I want to kiss you,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. 

He didn’t beat around the bush, did he?

“Five, four, three—”

“Please do,” I whispered, wanting to kiss his full lips. I wanted to see how handsome his face would look from between my thighs or when I pleasure him, taking him in my mouth.

He hesitated, only for a second, before closing the distance between us and pressing his lips against mine. I lost all sense of being when everything but us melted into the shadows, cocooning ourselves in our bubble once again from the cheers and hoots of laughter. The kiss was soft, despite the passion and intensity promised in his eyes. I took the lead, closing my fingers around the lapel of his suit and pulling him closer, pressing our bodies against each other, his hard muscles against my soft curves. I deepened the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and—

Oh. 

A moan slipped past me when he wound his hand in my hair, his other hand lowering on my back and cupping my ass, giving it a light squeeze. He growled, the kiss getting hungrier with each second when we both tasted alcohol on each other’s tongue. 

I pulled away, my half-lidded eyes catching the sight of his flushed face. I knew I wanted to see that face, the face of my handsome husband, hovering above me. 

Holding his hand, I whispered, “Come with me.”

***

It only took a couple of minutes to rush from the club towards the hotel. The heat from his muscular, lean body pressed against my back, his lips nibbling my ear when I tried to open the door to my suite. His soft chuckle rolling over my body, my thighs tensing at his husky voice when his hand snaked down to mine and slowly swiped the card, opening the door. 

I pulled him inside with me, a gasp escaping my lips when he turned me around and pressed my back against the closed door. The handsome stranger swallowed my gasp, kissing me once more, his sensual lips moving to my jaw, down my neck while his hands roamed over my body. 

His touch burning my skin. His lips searing me. His smoky scent turning me into mush.

Closing my eyes, I relished in the passion and possibilities of his hold. His strong hands touching me with the clear authority that he knew how that night would end. Naked in bed. 

Before I could lead him to the bedroom, he pulled away. His warm breath caressing my cheeks. I loved how tender his hold was. Gentle yet firm.

“We should talk before we… we—”

“Yeah.” I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yes. We should. You are my husband, I am your wife and we are celebrating the new year.”

Despite the darkness of the hotel suite, I could feel him smile. Feel the intensity and pure lust gleaming in his eyes when he pressed closer, the hard muscles of his body against my soft curves. 

I held back my whimper when he said, his voice rough, “Yeah? How are we going to celebrate it, wife?” 

Licking my lips, I trailed my hands from his thick, soft hair down to the chiseled panes of his chest. He took in a sharp breath when I removed the suit jacket he was wearing, gliding my hands over the broad shoulders and to the collar of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the buttons.

“I could show you how,” I whispered, kissing his neck, pressing my lips down to his Adam’s apple, licking it before I lowered my kisses.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his breathing heavy when my knuckles brushed against the solid bulge of his arousal.

He is definitely well-endowed. Lucky me. 

“Jasmine.”

“Liar,” he crooned in my ear, my toes curling in my heels when he dragged me from the hallway to the bedroom as if he knew the suite. “I meant your real name.”

I watched his muscles move through the thin shirt when he closed the door behind us, my eyes landing on his sharp face, his eyes mischievous and inviting. 

“If it’s a one-night thing, then I don’t see why you should know my real name,” I said, removing the heels, trying hard not to shiver under his fiery gaze. 

He didn’t reply for a moment, and when I looked up, I could see his throat work, his lips glistening when he licked them. No one should look that good in dim light when they are doing nothing but thinking. 

“My name is Zain,” he introduced himself.

I raised my brow. “That’s the name of the Sultan and it’s his sister’s birthday today.”

“No way,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he removed his shirt. My eyes landed on the abs and the happy trail down his pants when he stepped closer. “What a coincidence.”

I hummed, half-hearing what he said. I was too busy ogling his body, the sheer masculinity that oozed out of him. The air in the room hummed with sexual anticipation and all thoughts erased from my head when his lips claimed mine. My hands explored his body, touching the muscles and lowering to scratch his stomach. He groaned, the sound low and smoky, making heat curl between my legs. 

A soft moan slipped past my lips when he squeezed my ass, pulling me so close that I could feel the hardness of his stiffened member against my thigh. My palm sought him out on its own. I wanted to feel him, touch him. 

His eyes were dark and hooded with lust when I slowly squeezed his length, pulling him out of his boxers. I swallowed the lump in my throat at the naked sight of his dick. A bit of precum leaked from the tip when it stayed erect against his stomach. 

I was snapped out of my ogling when Zain’s hands fumbled with the straps of my dress. He helped me remove it, peeling the dress off my body, kissing the soft skin above my thong. I shivered when his fingers tweaked and rolled my hardened nipples, kissing them, biting them and leaving marks. 

“Sit down,” I whispered, pushing him on the edge of the bed. “I want to taste you.”

Zain’s cheeks flushed. It was both adorable and hot to see such a handsome man blush, watching me kneel between his powerful legs as if it was his first time. He had removed his pants and boxers, his dark eyes gazing at me, my sensitized breasts feeling heavy when he looked at them with bashful desire.

Licking my lips, I leaned closer and stroked his length, his velvety soft skin hardened in my palm. The soft sighs he made were a fuel to my arousal. My thong dampened with my juices, hearing the hot sounds he made when I licked him. The salty yet tangy taste of him erupting in my mouth as I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his hand wrapping around my hair as I dipped down on his girthy length. 

I hummed and moaned with him inside my mouth, my fingers tightening around his thighs as his hand curled around my head. I watched his exposed neck, the golden skin sporting a hickey. Pulling back, I took a deep breath.

“I will cum inside your mouth, wife,” he whispered, his voice lowering an octave as he caressed my cheek, his own flushed red. 

Shifting on my knees, I said, “I don’t mind, husband.”

Blood rushed to his face hearing me call him husband. Zain licked his lips. “Allow me to return the favor first.”

But I want to make you come first.

Before I could voice it out, Zain picked me up and laid me down on the bed, as if I weighed nothing. The soft sheets were cool underneath my back, the sight of Zain hovering between my knees unnerving me. 

My eyes widened when he slowly ran his finger from my slicked lips to the tiny bundle of nerves. A shiver of aching hunger rolled over my body, my thighs tensing and relaxing when he repeated his actions. I whimpered, raising my hips when he added another finger, toying around with my dripping need, spreading it around and watching every inch of my body react underneath his ministrations. 

“Zain,” I moaned when the soft pads of his fingers bumped against my clit, rolling it around, teasing me further. 

His eyes flickered to me, gleaming with lust as he watched me and my fingers rolling around my hardened nipples. Licking his lips, he leaned down between the apex of my thighs. I took a shuddering breath, the air of the room heavy with pent-up sexual tension and pressing against my bare skin. 

I bit my lip, muffling a gasp when Zain covered my burning sex with his fiery mouth. My back arched from the bed when his tongue licked and explored my most sensitive part. His hands held my thighs from snapping shut on his head, my hand threading into his thick hair when he kissed and laved at my pussy. 

He hummed, my toes curling at the reverberations. I was moaning and sighing, my eyes pinned on his handsome face between my legs, my legs spreading wide over his broad shoulders, noticing the wicked delight of pleasure in his eyes when I groaned out his name. 

Zain was wild. Nothing like the blushing, shy man I thought he was moments ago. He had turned into someone else, someone who took extreme pleasure while performing cunnillingus. 

“I love your taste, wife,” he whispered, letting my feet touch the mattress as he dipped his finger inside me, watching me bite my lip and push my hips towards him for more. 

“More, Zain!” I pleaded with a broken moan, his lips wrapping around the bundle of nerves he was familiar with and sucking it in his mouth. 

He inserted another finger inside me, my walls clenching around him, my body quivering when he curled his digits, touching the sensitive spot that made my mind turn blank. 

I could feel his eyes on me when he repeated his actions, watching me grip the bedsheets, my groans pleading and broken from the need of release. I whined at the loss of his touch, my half-lidded eyes watching him lick his fingers before hovering above me. 

We both took in a sharp breath when he rubbed the head of his glistening cock from my dripping slit to the bundle of nerves. I wrapped my arms around him, his lips planting on mine as we both swallowed each other’s moans when he pushed himself inside me, my walls stretching against the little burn of his girthy length to accommodate him. 

Zain cursed, his pupils dilated as he eyed both of us. Where we joined. I tried clenching him, his eyes widening as he elicited a groan, a hot red flush creeping up his neck to his face. I giggled, watching him with amusement. He was so raw and open with intimacy. I had never met anyone or at least slept with anyone who had shown those qualities. 

It made me like him more—

No, Nasrin. You do not like a handsome stranger just because he is open, vocal and shows emotions while having sex. 

I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts when he traced a finger from my cheek to my lips, gently caressing my face. It evoked a new aching feeling from deep within my heart that I didn’t know whether to push him away or bury my face between his chest. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible. 

I could feel him throbbing inside me. Surely, he must have wanted to fuck me and reach his climax. But he waited for my answer, assessing me with his intense eyes as if he was truly concerned about my well-being. 

Don’t make me like you. 

I wanted to say, but I stuck with, “Yes, I am.” Wrapping my legs around his muscular torso, I said, “Fuck me.”

Zain’s eyes darkened, his fingers clenching the bedsheet as he slowly retreated and slammed inside me, my lips parting into a soundless moan. Holy shit. Pleasure bloomed inside me at the feeling of fullness, my body trembling when Zain claimed me with each powerful thrust. 

His hot groans and whispers were music to my ears. His jaw clenched when he gazed down at me, holding my hips to watch himself slide into me. It was extremely erotic to watch a man like him see himself sink into me, my nether lips soaking with arousal. 

I moaned softly when his finger rubbed over my sensitive clit, his eyes drinking in all the little details. I groaned out, his dick plunging deep inside me, his heavy, powerful body pressing against me and claiming my lips with his.

“I am going to—” I uttered with a small groan, his fingers rubbing faster, his pace increasing as he swelled inside me. 

Surprisingly, he came first, his climax erupting inside me as his face contorted into bliss, his fingers digging into my skin. I was in awe watching him, that my orgasm rocked my body. The scorching white hot lust swept through my body, my back arching and nails sinking into his back as I groaned out his name again and again. Holding onto him, gasping and writhing as my muscles contracted around him. 

Zain gave one last thrust before collapsing beside me. We were out of breath, my ears ringing as I tried my best to regain control of my wild heartbeat. I was surprised when he pulled me closer, kissing my lips and running his hand through my hair and back. I was rendered speechless when Zain cuddled me. Laying his head on the crook of my neck, his fingers brushing the underside of my breast and the coarse hair of his legs pressed against mine.

If I hadn’t been exhausted and deeply sated with the sex, I might have told him to leave or cover up. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t mind the warmth of his body, his soft breath fanning over my skin and the way he held me so close and tenderly that I would think that the night we had spent together meant more to him than me.

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[fuwushiguro]

I Wanna Give In To My Temptation

masterlist | chapter two

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: Happy birthday daddy 😋 I'm posting this first chapter in honour of his bday and this is part of my Capricorn Collab. I hope you all enjoy this series I'm very proud of it! Also I wanna thank @/tamakiscock for translating the French for me :) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, nightclub setting, nightclub pick up, dry humping, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, manipulation, gaslighting, smoking. Words: 5.9k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

Floating.

That is how you have navigated through your life for all of these years. It’s often commented upon by your best friend, Nobara, how utterly fucked you would be if you hadn’t been born into a well to do family. It isn’t a total stretch from the truth to say you’re useless. Hopeless, even. But it doesn’t hurt your feelings any less. Yes, you have no discernible talents to speak of. Your grades during your education were average, maybe a little below average at times. And hell, you didn’t even finish university. The first drop out of your family, an enormous disappointment to your family name. So, of course, it fucking hurts. Who decided that anyone has to be anything more than what one is capable of? You’re alive. You’re a living and breathing human. And you’re a good person, you think. Kind, considerate, honest.

Who came up with the notion that living isn’t enough?

She was right, however, that you would likely be fucked if not for the family you were born into. A wealthy father and three successful elder brothers who have your best interests at heart. Misogyny is rife in your family, however. Your mother passed not long after your second birthday, so you have always been surrounded by testosterone and a dark cloud of inferiority in your fathers’ patronising eyes.

It’s because you’re a girl.

That is why you aren’t as smart as your brothers.

That is why you couldn’t complete your education. No skills, no talent.

Zilch.

It’s total bullshit, of course. You find it hard to believe the absence of a cock and balls has any effect on your total incompetence. Maybe you just haven’t found what you’re destined to be good at yet. There are plenty of skills and hobbies in the world and you’ve barely even attempted a fraction of them.

Right now, though, you’re regretting not mastering your French lessons your father tried to force upon you. It’s no surprise that the golden boys mastered French as well as three other languages each. They all like to tease that you can barely speak English.

It is just a joke… you think.

They do like to tease and make fun of you, but your father does his best to make you feel special in his own way. A way that most rich parents’ resort to – he throws money at the problem. It isn’t something you’ll complain about though, spending vast amounts of cash does seem to make all of your worries melt away.

If only for a moment.

After you found out your siblings were all planning a trip to Germany without you, your father once again decided to buy your happiness. He gave you his credit card and told you to go nuts. He’d expected you to buy a few new outfits, some accessories, a spa visit and maybe a weekend away somewhere not too far from home.

It’s fair to say his eyes bulged when he realised you’d bought two plane tickets and a two week stay in a five star hotel for yourself and Nobara.

Anything for his little girl.

You’ve never felt as powerful as you did when you strutted into the hotel lobby with your best friend by your side and a ridiculous amount of luggage. Nobara was ecstatic. She couldn’t believe it when you told her you were taking her to Paris for two weeks. She’s never been. In fact, the only place she’d been before she moved to the city was her small little country town she speaks so little about. You’re sure she’ll love it; you tell her as much.

You’re here often, your father brings you for bonding trips, and he’s still trying to teach you French.

So, it is a little awkward when the reception staff recognise you and they realise you can’t speak a lick of French other than an embarrassing ‘salut’ and smile. Their own smiles turn patronising. It’s like being in a room with your father and your siblings. But you don’t care, not anymore. You don’t… you won’t. You’re here to have fun and let your hair down. They won’t be of any concern to you, not for the next two weeks. It’s just you, Nobara, and your daddy’s credit card.

She’s even more surprised when the bellhop escorts you to your rooms. Rooms, plural. She was under the impression that you’d be sharing. Although she wasn’t completely wrong. Your rooms were adjoined by a door, allowing each of you to step between the barrier and check up on each other.

You abandoned your suitcases and bags and stepped through the door into Nobara’s room to see her looking like a kid who’d won a golden ticket to a chocolate factory tour. Her speech was seemingly stolen as she examined her new living quarters for the next two weeks. She kept opening and closing the closets and admiring how much space they had. She ran onto the balcony and practically screamed as she enjoyed the view, the Eiffel tower in plain sight. It became a slight concern when her eyes bulged so hard you panicked they might genuinely roll out of her skull as she opened the door to her en-suite bathroom.

“Is this real life?” she asked, earnestly.

It made you chuckle. Yes indeed, this is real life. It’s nice to see how excited she is over your gift, or better yet your father’s gift, to her. In truth, she is your only true friend. There are others, sure, but you don’t trust them. You know in your heart that Nobara cares about more than your family name and fortune. The same can’t be said for the others. So, spoiling her with your daddy’s money doesn’t feel like a risk to you. You do trust her, more than anything or anyone. So, you nod.

This is real life.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” she wonders, it’s phrased as a joke as you both know she does. You both love each other in the best way. You don’t know what you’d be without her, actually. But still – you tease her back.

“Hmm… I don’t think so!” you poke your tongue out as you spin around to return to your own room. Your hand settles on the doorknob and you manage to get it slightly ajar before feeling her hand encase your wrist in a warm hold.

“You’re an incredible friend and I appreciate this a lot. I love you.” she smiles. It’s weird to hear such kind sincerity from her. It’s usually all jokes and affectionate insults. But you appreciate it, nonetheless, smiling at her to let her see how grateful you really are.

“Thank you,” you begin. “I love you too, Nobara.”

There’s only one thing on your mind today. Something that you can do this time in Paris that you’ve never done during any other trip with your father. You want to take the edge off. You want to go out. Not like a tourist. You don’t want to go to art museums and fancy restaurants. You don’t want to go to the Eiffel tower for the umpteenth time. The only thing is on your mind is alcohol.

You want to go clubbing.

You’re both jetlagged, and you can tell that Nobara wants an early night. Not on your watch though. As if you’re going to come to Paris and then leave her alone in the hotel while you’re having the time of your life. It’s funny to you that she hasn’t realised that you’re getting ready to go out yet. She’s been sitting on your bed for the last hour looking at the room service menu. You take it from her hands.

She looks confused; because now she has realised that you are at the early stages of reapplying your makeup. You’ve failed to mention your plans to her. Her eyes are searching yours. What are you getting all dressed up for?

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“We are going clubbing.” you inform her.

Oh no, her expression reads.

Oh yes, yours responds.

It doesn’t take much convincing, to your amazement. A miracle is happening before your very eyes as she goes to her own room and leaves the door open so you can communicate as you get ready. She makes it very clear that she’s only doing this for you. She’s exhausted and ready to sleep for a week; but she believes it’s the least she owes you for letting her come on this trip.

Guilt pangs through your body. You didn’t want to bring her here so she felt she owed you favours. It’s not like that, you’re sure. It’s just one act of kindness for another, you assume. Though you do feel guilty, regardless. She likely won’t have as much fun as you on account of the fact she isn’t single. You, on the other hand, are more than eager to stick your lonely tongue down a hot guy’s throat. But that’s it, really. You aren’t stupid enough to bring someone back to your hotel that you don’t know.

But you wouldn’t be opposed to collecting some phone numbers.

Yourself and Nobara walk through the lobby holding hands. It’s funny to see the suspicious looks you both receive from the other guests and members of staff as they notice your interlocked fingers. It’s something you always do at home, so why wouldn’t you hold hands in Paris? What’s wrong with holding hands with your best friend? It should be normalised, you both think, so that’s why you do it so often. If people want to assume you’re a couple, then so be it.

An earlier call was made when you were both nearing the end of the getting ready process. You called downstairs to reception and requested that they book a taxi for you.

Maybe they were staring because you both looked that good. You did, you think so anyway.

Nobara had opted for mostly light makeup except for donning an out of character smoky eyeshadow look. She rarely wears her hair in space buns, but tonight she’d chosen to wear them with two loose strands framing her pretty face. A pristine white bodysuit covered the upper-half of her body conservatively, but when paired with denim shorts it would be sure to send a few minds racing in the club. Her heeled boots perfectly shaped her entire body, elongating her killer legs and lifting her already perky ass.

She was genuinely taken aback at your choice of outfit. You seemed to match her choice in makeup by wearing predominantly muted and nude colours save for a bold red lip. The rare occasions you go to parties you are renowned for wearing little clothing, but not tonight. While you left your hair down, you decided to wear a plain black jumpsuit. The top of the jumpsuit was crossed over your breasts, exposing your sternum and cleavage. You joined Nobara in wearing a pair of heels to accentuate your figure, both of you were ready to take on your first night out in Paris.

Immediate access was granted to you both as you showed the security guard your ID’s. It didn’t take long for a handsome stranger to eye you both as you entered, instantly inviting you both to join him in VIP with his friends.

He was handsome, yes, but certainly not attractive enough to pique your interest. Nobara rolled her eyes at your confession. Since when are you one to turn down male attention? You slap her lightly in jest, both of you giggling as you wait for your drinks to be poured. There are an assortment of shots and drinks in front of you and you waste no time in consuming half of them at a rapid pace. Nobara isn’t so foolish, though, she has more restraint and patience. It seems she is the one who will be babysitting for the evening; although that is exactly what she expected.

You’re soon too drunk for her to know what to do with. It’s bothering her to no end how the man and his friends seem to be ridiculing you in French. She doesn’t know much, just a little. But a little is anything more than you’ll ever understand. She catches a few words from them such as ‘stupid’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’ as they ogle you dancing on the table.

It isn’t fair, she thinks. Did they only invite you into VIP to insult you both? You’re only having a good time. You’re only dancing, and your sexuality is being dragged into an irrelevant conversation. She’s had enough, she decides. Though she’s sure if she tries to drag you away like she normally does you’ll kick up a fuss. She taps your leg lightly until you look down at her, each of you smiling widely at each other. You’re slurring a little and your pupils are blown to hell.

“Are you ha-aving a good time?” you query, hiccupping mid speech. She nods, holding her hand out to you.

“I think we should go and have a real dance on the dance floor.” she responds. The idea thrills you and she’s eternally grateful you’ve made the decision for yourself to get away from the chauvinist pigs that were mocking you.

Neither of you will be returning to their company, she’ll make sure of that.

She holds your hand as she guides you to the dance floor. It’s not out of the ordinary that you turn your back to her so that you can grind your body against hers. She is your best friend after all. When you’ve had a drop of alcohol on your lips, she knows how riled up and aroused you become. You’ve done your fair share of experimenting with Nobara while under the influence, too, but that isn’t of any interest to her while she’s practically sober and happy in her relationship. An idea strikes her, she thinks she’ll go and scout some talent for you while she orders you both cocktails.

“Wait here.” she shouts in your ear over the blaring bass of the music. You nod and tuck your hair behind your ears as you wait for her to go. Her arm is around your shoulder, and you kiss each other’s cheeks before she goes to the bar.

You’d never claim to be the worlds best dancer since you know that’s far from the truth. But you’re happy and confident enough to dance alone anyway. The music is pounding and you’re really feeling it. Perfectly manicured fingers run through your hair as you sense the build up to a beat drop approaching. Your hips roll from side to side. The true embodiment of bliss is you on this dance floor. Completely content, even while alone. Nothing matters. Not your family. Not your failures. Nothing. It’s just you and the beat.

Your eyes flutter open gently as you feel a large palm on your hip. It’s obvious it doesn’t belong to Nobara, her hands are small and dainty. The suspicions you have are proven correct when you find a pair of emerald eyes dazzling in your direction. It almost takes your breath away. He seems to be doing something with his hands; but it isn’t registering in your head when all you can see are his eyes.

But your attention is forced to look away when he holds a drink up. He tilts it at you. It’s for you – you think. It’s a martini. The man was holding a drink of his own, not that you could tell what it was.

“I’ve never had a martini before.” you confess into his ear.

He smiles, and that is when you notice an interesting scar stabbing through both his upper and lower lip. You don’t think about it though, but perhaps if you were sober you’d be more interested in the mark. It is intriguing, you’re sure under normal circumstances you’d be desperate to know where it came from. But now, it was the last thing on your mind.

“Tu ressembles à une fille de type martini.” he speaks into your ear as you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder.

It shocks you for some reason. You aren’t sure why given that you’re literally in France, but you hadn’t expected French to spill from the strangers’ lips. Maybe he didn’t hear what you said. Is he intoxicated as well? It’s a possibility the music blared out the fact that you were speaking English. You wonder if he speaks English too.

“I’m English.” you respond, “Um… Anglaise?” you add, racking your pathetic brain for the limited French words you do know. He smiles as you pull away, understanding now that you’re English. But he doesn’t return your language.

“Tu es très belle.” he smirks. Unfortunately for you, the compliment goes straight over your head. It does make you feel embarrassed that you couldn’t understand him, since you know your father and siblings would be able to have a fully fledged conversation with him as if they were French natives. Instead of trying to make him speak English, you take a sip of your martini and shrug your shoulders. It’s making you feel better, if only slightly, but you simply don’t understand.

Right on cue, Nobara returns with another drink. She didn’t find any potential suitors that fit your usual type, but her eyebrows raise in bewilderment as she sees that a suitor seems to have found you. She recognises that there is a definite age gap between you both, but he is your type to a T.

“He’s French, I don’t understand him.” you speak to her. “He said something before, will you translate?” you ask her as if she is a fluent speaker. You try and explain to the man that you want him to tell your friend what he said, it takes a little while but eventually he gets it. It takes every ounce of will power she possesses to not roll her eyes right out of her head when he speaks. She wasn’t expecting to be able to understand what he said. In fact, a small part of her was hoping that she wouldn’t.

“He said you’re very beautiful.” she repeats, attempting not to gag. You feel blood rushing directly to your face and you instantly warm at the compliment. Nobara turns away as she can’t help but cringe.

What a fucking line. And you’re falling for it.

She’s still holding the drink she ordered for you. It finds its way into your hand and now you’re holding two drinks and feel very restricted in your movements. So, you down the martini. He won’t understand, but you shout ‘thank you’ in the man’s ear regardless.

He steals a yelp from you when you’re spun around and pulled flush against his body. He’s encouraging you to grind on him just as you had with Nobara. You match his movements, albeit a little awkwardly as Nobara gawks at you with a pissed off look on her face.

“Do you want this?” she asks you. You bite your lip and nod. You do. God, you really fucking do. She knew this would happen. An argument isn’t what she wants, but she didn’t want to come clubbing for exactly this reason. She didn’t want to have to third wheel if someone happened to catch your eye, and she isn’t enough of a bitch to go back to the hotel and leave you alone with a stranger. So, she waves. “I’m going to wait over there until you’re ready to leave.” she tells you. You aren’t given a chance to ask her to stay when she immediately turns and heads towards some seats near the exit.

Your eyes flicker as you feel the man behind you bury his head into the crook of your neck and kiss over your pulse point. Your arm reaches backwards so that your fingers can rake through his jet-black hair. It’s all so exciting and exhilarating. You feel your heart almost beat out of your chest when you feel his growing erection grind into your behind. All you can think about is him touching you. You’re desperate for his hands all over your body even though it goes against every ounce of common-sense dwelling within you.

“Je veux te baiser si mal.” he groans, almost dragging out the final letter so that it vibrates from your ear straight to your heat. You’re soaked, you can feel how ruined your panties are just from the beautiful language and words you’ll never understand.

It takes little strength from him to turn your body so that you’re facing him. He smirks as your nimble fingers reach the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the first. The second. The third. You want to continue; but you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Curious fingers dip underneath the material of his shirt, delicately tracing over his skin. His pectoral muscles are rock hard, the feeling of them beneath the pads of your fingers makes your pussy throb. You get more adventurous, stealing a hiss from him as you smooth over his nipple.

He grabs your hand and pulls it away from his body. Tension is in the air between you both and it is palpable. Your chest is heaving, it’s fear, you think. His breathing is heavy, his broad chest rising and falling similarly to yours. For him, it’s anticipation. Your eyes are glazed over, and he can’t help but admire the way your enlarged pupils have almost taken over the natural colour of your eyes.

One large hand interweaves through your soft, shiny locks and the other is on the small of your back as he brings your body closer against his. His lips are on yours before you even realise why you can taste an alcoholic beverage you’re certain you haven’t tasted this evening. It’s him. He’s giving you everything and he’s stealing what you have to offer, as well. Your tongues are wet and slippery against one another as you get drunker from each other. Drunk on each other.

The sole thought of clubbing you had when you touched down in Paris has been obliterated. That isn’t enough now and you’re sure it never will be again after this. Alcohol and partying are fun, yes. This is what you wanted. But now, you want more.

You want him.

Nothing else, just him.

It’s the only thought that plagues your mind as he kisses your lips heatedly. It doesn’t disappear as he abandons your tongue so he can explore your body more with his own. It multiplies by a thousand when he presses chaste kisses against your ear, the pecking sound against your ear rushes straight to your cunt. It multiplies by a million when he finds himself kissing atop the flesh of your breast.

You aren’t sure if the notion falls from your lips; but while your head is thrown back in ecstasy, he is looking up at you with a wicked smile on his face. He couldn’t help himself, look what he’s doing to you.

“Veux-tu me baiser?” he speaks into your ear as he forces your head back upright. It’s frustrating beyond belief. All you want to do is understand him or have him understand you. Doesn’t he get it? You don’t speak French. It doesn’t matter what he says, or how pretty he speaks, you just won’t understand.

You giggle, awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. The amusement soon fades, and you pull your lips into a thin line, shrugging once more. There’s nothing more you can say.

He raises a finger, signalling for you to wait for a second. You nod. He begins rummaging around in his pockets, dead set on finding something. It’s almost impossible to suppress a smile when the hope of him whipping out a translator enters your mind. Of course, that isn’t what he finds at all. He removes his wallet and begins looking for something there. The fat wad of cash in there doesn’t go amiss, but soon something else catches your eye.

A square made out of foil. And you can see the rubbery ring on the inside. A condom. He wants this too, just as badly as you. He raises his eyebrows, questioning if this is something you want. It is. Despite your better judgement telling you to take his phone number and make him wait, you can’t help but want him now.

You nod, dumbly. Mouth already pooling at the thoughts of having what has been pressed against you for the majority of the night inside of you.

“Yes… s'il te plait…”

Nobara’s fury had reached new heights when she realised you were bringing the handsome, devilish stranger back to your hotel. She kept it to herself though, but she had every intention to give you an earful in the morning. While you were practically dry-fucking each other in the backseat of the taxi, Nobara sulked in the front as she waited desperately to arrive at your destination.

She couldn’t abandon you quick enough when you finally got back. The girl practically sprinted through the lobby to the elevator, desperate to not have to share with the two of you. It would likely have been the case anyway since you need to talk to reception before bringing a guest upstairs.

You pull out your daddy’s credit card, having no problem with paying for your guests’ night in the hotel. But he holds a hand out, pushing your card back to you as he shakes his head. He converses with the hotel staff, you assume he’s explaining the situation, before pulling out his own card. It makes sense that he can afford a night here, too, despite the extortionate price. If the money in his wallet was anything to go by, you’re sure he’s rolling in it.

The thought is quickly rinsed from your mind as the payment is approved. He takes your hand and walks you towards the elevator Nobara had just been in. Not only are your lips on each other again, but you’ve jumped onto him, wrapping your legs around his body while you grind against each other. You know one thing for damn sure, you can’t wait to get each other out of these fucking clothes.

He holds the key to your room in his hand, doing his best to carry on kissing you while he tries to find the door.

Nobara’s head almost shoots off her shoulders when he accidentally opens the door to her room instead of yours. You’re both giggling as he quickly slams it shut and eventually finds your room. He sets you down as soon as he shuts the door behind you; neither of you can wait another second to get undressed.

You’re removing articles of clothing between kisses. He takes the straps of your jumpsuit and pulls them downwards, instantly exposing your breasts. You help unbutton the last remaining buttons of his shirt, finally able to see his entire upper body in all of its glory.

It’s difficult for you both to keep kissing whilst removing the rest, so you take a break to remove your shoes. He holds the condom he showed you earlier between his teeth before removing more layers. Fumbling fingers help each other out of the rest of your clothes, and once fully exposed to the aircon in your room neither of you take a second to admire each other.

He holds your leg and forces it to rest on his hip, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him again as you had in the elevator. You do, removing the condom from his teeth before circling your arms around the back of his neck so that you can carry on kissing him. The man walks you both towards the direction of the bed, colliding aggressively with the mattress while he carries on swirling his tongue against yours.

You’re so needy, he could tell by the sticky webs in your underwear as he helped peel them off you. He leaves your lips again, quickly kissing down your body towards the apex of your thighs. He takes a detour once he reaches the valley of your breasts, giving sensual attention to each of your nipples. Fuck, you’re soaked. The way you’re fucking yourself on the ridges of his muscle adorned thigh tells you both just how wet you really are.

And he wants a taste.

So, he keeps going until he can hook your left leg over his shoulder, kissing gently into your inner thighs before attaching himself to your clit. You aren’t sure if your senses are enhanced from the alcohol or if he’s really just that good. But he sniggers as your fingers find purchase in his obsidian locks and almost tear them from the roots.

You squirm against the mattress, and it doesn’t even register in your mind how fucking loud you’re being. Even Nobara’s noise-cancelling headphones are having trouble tuning you out. He slips two fingers inside of you and begins pumping them with a vengeance against your soft spot. It’s almost game over, you know it. And he knows it too, because you’re practically fucking his face and his fingers while he eats you out.

Your toes curl as you cum and the man doesn’t give you a moments reprieve as he finger fucks you through your aftershocks and continues suckling on your overstimulated bead. The bedsheets are sure to be glazed in his cum as he couldn’t help but grind against the mattress whilst pleasuring you. He won’t mock you for being desperate because he is no better.

But now, he is ready to cum.

He picks up the condom that you left by your side on the mattress and prepares to tear it with his teeth. But before he can, you interject.

“No!” you tell him, again, against your better judgement. You pick up the protection and throw it to the other side of the room. He looks perplexed, but not angry. But he needn’t worry, there’s no way in hell you were changing your mind. How were you going to tell him what you wanted? “I want you…” you started. You brought your face closer to his so you could kiss him once again. He reciprocated, his large frame unintentionally caging you beneath him as he did so.

Your fingers reach downwards between your bodies. Finally, you have a handful of his cock. And as suspected in the club, it’s huge. You want to look, but you can’t, because you need him inside now. You guide him to your entrance, and his eyes widen in horror as he realises you’re putting him inside of you without protection. Perhaps it’s a deal breaker for him.

“Just want you t’fill me up. Wanna be warm…” you sigh, letting go of him to allow him to retrieve the condom if he wants.

But he doesn’t. He slams himself inside all of the way to the hilt, robbing an earth-shattering moan from your lungs. You can’t help but feel pure, unadulterated joy as he begins putting his weight behind each and every thrust with no remorse. Pounding your ill-prepped little pussy without regret.

It’s almost like he understood what you told him.

His head hung low, your cheeks touched as he carried on pummelling himself into you, fucking your insides and that special spot inside that made your brain turn to mush. He already couldn’t understand you, and there’s no way he would now. Not a single coherent thought ran through your mind. Just him, just his cock, just this feeling.

He wasn’t vocal during sex, at all. But his breathing became heavier and heavier with each thrust. He winced and gritted his teeth when his balls tightened, and his sensitive cockhead found paradise in the form of your g-spot again and again. It’s odd to hear a lover so unafraid to let their enjoyment show before their orgasm arrived. Often replacing moans and heavy breaths with degradation and insults instead.

But not him, he held no embarrassment over how perfectly your cunt was treating him. He bit into your shoulder, and you felt his excessive breaths dust over your skin. He looks into your eyes, those beautiful jade green jewels examining you as if he’s searching for an answer. He’s going to cum, you think that’s what he’s telling you. Is he allowed to cum inside? You nod, that is exactly what you want. He kisses your neck again as your walls tighten, both of you brought to your knees under the weight of a crashing wave of an orgasm. He moaned loudly in your ear, and you did the same to him. Even as he stopped cumming, he kept fucking into you. He looked down to where you were joined so he could admire the creamy ring at the base of his cock. He kissed you once more before pulling out, spreading your lips to admire the viscous white seed pulsating out of your cunt.

He kisses your clit before rolling to the side. Both of your heads laid comfortably in the pillows as you came down from the thrill of it all. You wanted to clean up. You wanted to pee. But it’s been a while since you’ve had a fuck so good you can’t move. And even this encounter is in a league of its own. Your lover eased himself off of the mattress and walked towards the discarded clothes at the front door of your hotel room. He returned with a box of cigarettes and a lighter. You don’t normally partake, but when he offered you one as he stared at you with those glossy green eyes you couldn’t help but accept.

His jaw fell open, as if he wanted to speak. You tried to smile in understanding, knowing once again that whatever he had to say wouldn’t make an ounce of sense to you. So, he looked away, taking a drag of his cigarette as you did the same. This encounter is certainly one for the records. You managed to get someone into bed without having to even speak to him. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that his jaw opened once again. It seemed he would speak, regardless of the language barrier. But you didn’t face him, inhaling the nicotine into your lungs as you waited patiently.

“I love cumming inside.”

Your entire head rotated and your eyes darted to his lips. Did he just say that or are you too fucking drunk and losing your mind? That was English. You’re sure you haven’t miraculously learnt all of the French your father has been trying to force into you after all of these years. You’re sure it was English.

The suspicions you have are confirmed as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. He takes another hearty drag of his cigarette before smiling wickedly at you again. This whole time… This whole fucking time he has known how to speak English. Was this all just to fuck with you? Does he have a higher success rate with women if he speaks to them in French over English? You can’t believe it. Whilst in a complete state of disbelief, you can’t help but laugh. Fuck. He got you. He really fucking got you and played you like a damn fiddle.

But what can he say?

He loves cumming inside.

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[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 1! "We Should Talk, Dean"

Rating: Gen

Ship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Corn Maze, Feelings, Fluff & Humor, Kid Jack Kline, The World's Vaguest Declaration of Love

Summary: Dean finds himself alone with Cas in a corn maze. Will he be able to avoid talking about his feelings? Or will he finally make it through the maze of his own brain and drop those three little words?

Read under the cut, or on ao3 here!

“What’s a corn maze?” Jack pipes up from the backseat as Dean speeds down what feels like the thousandth mile of monotonous midwest highway. There’s only so much golden grass you can look at before it starts to make you itchy, and Dean’s more than ready to get back to the peace and quiet of his room at the Bunker.

Sam twists around from the passenger seat to face Jack. “It’s when farmers cut a maze into a field of corn stalks. The stalks are usually taller than humans, so people can walk through the paths and try to find their way out.”

Jack bounces on his booster seat — Dean cringes as he hears it dig into the leather. “Can we walk through one?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sam says, looking at Dean with raised eyebrows. “There’s plenty of them around here, and we could use a stretch break.”

“We can stretch at home,” Dean says. “We’re just a state away at this point, no one’s gonna die.”

Sam leans into his space. “It would be a great human moment, ” he hisses pointedly into Dean’s ear, even though the occupants of the backseat possess superpowered angelic hearing.

“We don’t have to, it’s okay,” Jack’s voice is small this time. Dean glances into the rearview mirror and sees the kid hunched back in his seat, looking dejectedly out the window. Something pangs deep and sharp in Dean’s chest at the way-too-familiar posture. He shifts his eyes over an inch to meet Cas’ in the mirror. Of course Cas is already looking.

“What do you think, Cas?” Dean asks. 

“I think it would be an enriching experience,” Castiel replies. “There was a sign a few miles ago that advertised pie at the next farm, in case that sways your verdict.”

Sam sighs, dragging a hand through his mop of hair. “Dean doesn’t have a verdict. This is a democracy. Who votes for corn maze?” He raises his hand.

“Ooh, me!” Jack perks up instantly, his grubby kid fingers rubbing on the car ceiling as he stretches his arm up. 

Dean and Castiel make eye contact in the mirror again, and Castiel shrugs with a small smile as he lifts his hand, too. 

“Well, joke’s on all of you, because I was gonna say yes, anyway,” Dean says, raising his hand and flipping the blinker to pull Baby over at the next big Corn Maze This Way! sign. Jack whoops with glee and shakes his fist at Cas, angling for a fist bump. Cas chuckles and obliges, and if Dean’s cheeks feel very warm as he watches that exchange, he studiously ignores it.

The farm they pull up at is pretty cute, for a farm, Dean figures. There’s a red barn and wagons with hay bales, a pumpkin patch (though Dean thinks that’s a tad excessive — it’s just the first of October), and a stand selling hot cider and (Cas was right) apple pie.

“Nice place,” Sam remarks as they make their way from the parking lot over to the marked corn maze entrance. “We’ll have to grab some pie before we head out.”

Jack’s bouncing along next to Cas, holding his hand but only loosely, since he rarely stays still enough for that. De-aging the young God gave him all the energy and attitude of the seven-year-old he resembles, and Dean sometimes finds himself missing the teenage Jack. At least his godly power’s stored somewhere safe off-world with Amara until the kid’s lived some of his human life. Dealing with a second-grade nephilim is quite enough.

Dean shells out some cash for their maze tickets and they stop in front of the entrance path. A few families pass in and out next to them, and Dean notes that the kids coming out look significantly more cranky than the ones going in. He hastily strategizes how he can make this go as quickly as possible.

“All right, let’s choose teams,” he announces. 

“Teams?” Castiel tilts his head.

“Might as well make it interesting,” Dean says. “Split into two teams. Losers have to do the Bunker laundry for a week.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, you are on. I’m great at mazes.”

“I call Cas!” Jack shouts. 

“Hmm, I think we need to split up the angels,” Sam says thoughtfully. “Cas has enough of his grace left to give him an advantage.”

“Pfft. The Winchester bros could totally go up against a couple of angels,” Dean scoffs, elbowing Cas in the ribs. 

Cas just squints at him. “We would clobber you, Dean,” he says evenly.

“I’d rather not risk it,” Sam adds, even as Dean splutters. “Let’s do me and Jack, and Cas and Dean.”

“Why do you get the full-power angel?” Dean demands.

“Because I want to win, and I hate washing your sheets,” Sam responds smugly. “What, you don’t think you and Cas can take us?” 

Jack gets in the spirit, planting himself next to Sam with his arms crossed, narrowing his eyes at Dean and Cas. Dean pulls a face at him. 

“Dean and I are an excellent team, and will not be doing laundry this week,” Castiel says. He grips Dean’s arm, and, in an unfair display of strength, tugs him into the entrance of the maze. “First ones at the exit win!” he calls over his shoulder, and Sam and Jack jog to catch up. 

At the first fork in the path, the teams nod at one another, then branch off. Dean hears Jack chattering away at Sam for a solid minute after they part ways, and is suddenly very glad he ended up with Cas.

It’s totally the only reason he’s glad.

The towering corn stalks muffle the enclosed path, the rustling of their dry leaves and the soft thuds of Dean and Cas’ footfalls filling the silence. 

Dean’s suddenly painfully aware that they’re very alone — not something that happens often, since they have a kid-kid now, on top of still taking hunts here and there. When they do find themselves alone for a few moments, Dean usually concocts some sort of excuse to get out of there as quickly as possible. He knows Cas has picked up on it, but the guy never says anything, just watches him go with inscrutable eyes. 

It’s just that Dean’s not sure what to say. Or, more accurately, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but he’s a huge coward and doesn’t have the balls to march up to his best friend and tell him “Hey, by the way, I love you too, but losing you was the worst damn thing in the world, and it made me hit the rockiest rock bottom I’ve ever hit, and the thought of that happening again is almost unbearable.” 

So he does what he’s always done best — he stretches out his arm as far as it’ll go and keeps that possibility firmly at the end of it.

At least Cas doesn’t push him about it.

“We should talk, Dean,” Cas says into the muted air between them. 

Dean blinks.

Well. 

“About our strategy? Yeah,” he says. “We gotta go north, I checked that shitty crayon map at the ticket desk.”

“About what I said back then,” Castiel says gently.

“So to go north, we gotta ideally keep the sun at our right shoulder.”

“Dean, it’s not something we can ignore forever.”

“We can start working our way left, and correct with slight rights.”

Dean rounds a corner, and Castiel reaches out, planting a broad palm on Dean’s shoulder. Dean huffs out a breath and faces him. “C’mon man, we’re in a race here.”

“We also need to talk about your prayers,” Cas says.

Dean’s brain all but record-scratches. He stares at Cas, at those blue eyes, maze forgotten. “Wait. What?”

A sunbeam filters through the cornstalks and dapples Cas’ face. “Recently, I— I’ve found that I can pick up on prayers again. Not everyone’s.” He drops his eyes, scuffs a shoe in the dirt. “Just yours.”

“Well, okay, buddy, that’s cool, but I haven’t been praying, so I don’t know what you think you’re pickin’ up on.”

“You might not be praying consciously,” Cas says, quietly, still not looking at him. “But I hear your conflicting thoughts. What you want to say to me. What’s holding you back. It’s like your mind is reaching out to me, knowing you yourself can’t.”

One part of Dean’s brain is running through the symptoms of a heart attack, because he’s pretty sure he’s having one, another part is static-blank, and a third part is idly watching the sun play in Castiel’s unruly hair. 

What comes out of his mouth is, “Uh.”

“Breathe, Dean,” Cas reminds him mildly. “I’m right here.”

A lungful of hay-sweet air. Just on the crisp side today, a nip of autumn setting in. 

Cas is right here. 

“I—” Dean starts, and Cas moves closer, tentatively, with a questioning crook of the eyebrow. Dean nods, because it’s all he can do, and Cas simply steps right up against him and pulls him into a hug.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he murmurs against Dean’s hair. “Please just remember that I won’t leave. Not willfully. Not ever again.”

And something in the vicinity of Dean’s sternum, or maybe his stomach, or his entire chest, shakes loose and sends him tumbling forward, wrapping his arms as tight around Cas’ waist as he can manage, as if he might float off if he lets go.

“I wanna say it,” he whispers. “Just maybe— maybe not today.”

“I’m patient,” Castiel replies. His voice rumbles through Dean’s chest. 

Dean pulls back first, though he holds onto Cas’ arms for a long moment. “I’ve, uh.” He clears his throat. “I’ve missed you, man. Missed just hanging out.”

Cas’ eyes crinkle gently with his smile. “Let’s see if we can buy ourselves some extra hanging-out time by earning a laundry break.”

“Oh, shit!” Dean jolts and quickly checks the sun. “Left, we gotta go left.” 

They hurry through the maze, and the air that felt close and stifling earlier feels fresh and invigorating now, and Dean can hardly believe how tall he’s walking, how bright the sky is, now that Cas has lifted his burden and tossed it away.

There’s just one more thing nagging at him.

“Hey, Cas,” he says as they waver at a crossroads before diving right, “Um. So you’re listenin’ in on my head now? How many of my thoughts we talking, here?”

There’s a pause. “Only the ones directly about me,” Cas answers, far too neutrally. 

Dean cringes. “Like, uh, any time of day?”

“I’m not sleeping much, so… yes.”

Heat creeps rapidly back into Dean’s cheeks, but before he can formulate a diversion, Castiel says, “I would be amenable to making some of those thoughts manifest. Sometime.”

Dean definitely doesn’t trip over his own feet. He does, however, choke on air and cough so heartily that Cas has to slap his back. 

“Cool,” he croaks. 

It’s only thanks to Castiel’s heightened senses that they make it to the maze exit at all. 

They do not win. 

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

Jack brags about his and Sam’s victory all the way home. Dean just cranks the radio, breathes in the sweet smell of the fresh apple pies on the backseat, and occasionally glances at the rearview mirror just to see blue eyes looking right back.

A week of laundry is worth it. 

[fueledbysano]

Payback

summary: You owe Eren some cash, but when it's time to pay back, you seem to be short of it. Will he accepted another way of payment from you?

✧ pairing: s4!Eren x f!reader

✧ includes: modern college au, mentions of drugs, detailed smut, nsfw (mdni), handjob, heavy teasing, breath play (choking), degradation and praise kink, overstimulation, frat boy Eren >:)

✧ wc: 3,242

[ masterlist ]

You were never the one to ask for nor borrow money from people, yet here you were on this situation– in the middle of a transaction with the second year, Eren Jeager. The two of you are not completely strangers, but not so close friends either. You and Eren shared a handful conversations yourselves during parties, or when passing by each other inside the campus, so there definitely was an established acquaintanceship there.

It was just a day away from spring break, and you needed a plane ticket back to your hometown; but you were about seventy bucks short so you've been asking around to your friends right here, at a frat party to celebrate the break. The messy room had empty bottles laid on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over them. You were almost a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they looked reminded you of the beer bottles: messy and all over the place.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. But I have like three dollars with me right now. Go ask Eren, you know he's the one here who has the cash.” Connie suggests. Among Eren's trusted connections (which your friend, Connie, happened to be one of), it was no secret that he had a side hustle of supplying some of the pot in the university; and that business of Eren was actually booming. “We're not even that close, I'm not just gonna ask him.” You denied. “Well, night's ending soon and everyone leaves tomorrow... Just giving you options here.” Connie points out, giving you a gentle tap on the back before excusing himself to get more drinks. You can't believe that guy actually convinced you enough, and here you are, watching as Eren go through his wallet before handing you over the seventy bucks you needed. “I promise to pay you back when we return, really. Thank you.” You spoke. “Yo, don't think about that yet. Have fun and enjoy your spring break.” Eren insists, flashing you a thin smile as he returned his wallet into his pocket.

Spring break was gone in a blink, and here you are back at the campus. You did in fact, enjoyed the week-long spring break in your hometown. It felt nice experiencing the freedom from school works and requirements even for such a short time, and the only thing you worried about was how to pay Eren back that seventy bucks he lend you. Luckily, you had extra allowance given to you when you got back and you didn't have to worry further anymore.

Your last class had just ended and you decided to get it over with Eren. Earlier today, he'd told you to meet him at his dormitory room and sent you his unit number, which also gave you the chance to exchange each other's numbers. You arrived at his building, walking up the stairs and down the hallway whilst eyeing out for his room number, 19B. Eventually, you've finally spot the golden digits and letter labeled on one door, before gently knocking on it and careful not to disturb the other tenants.

“Oh, it's you. Hey.” Your eyes finally meet Eren, and his current look had totally took your breath away. His hair was damp, beads of water dripping from his torso, with only a grey towel hugging his hips and showing off his v-line. Eren seemed to take notice of your silence and speaks up. “Sorry, I didn't have time to get dressed. I just got off varsity training and had to shower.” He quickly explained, inviting you inside his room to bring the conversation in private. “Uh, no that's fine. I'm just here to return the money.” You now went through your purse while Eren ties his hair back up to his signature bun, locks still damp, and a little more of his v-line inching out the towel from the movement of his arms.

Fifty, seve– where the hell was that twenty dollar bill? You did not just lose it. Now you're twenty bucks short, and you're supposed to pay now. How idiotic would it be of you if you had spent it on something else earlier today. “Is there a problem?” Eren takes notice of your puzzled state. “Uh... well...” You trailed off, handing the fifty dollars worth of cash to Eren before he counts them. “That's all I can give you right now, it's twenty bucks short. I'll give you the rest this week.” You. “Don' t worry about it, it's just twenty bucks.” He shrugs before chucking the cash down his desk. Honestly, he actually wanted to see more of you. Eren heard some stories about you from Connie, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive and interesting. He wished the two of you had more than just your little occasional interactions around.

“Uh, hey Eren?” You took a step closer to Eren who mirrored your action, slowly approaching you with a burning gaze. “Yes...?” He mumbled softly, your bodies now only inches apart from each other as you looked up into his emerald eyes, practically smelling the lust radiating off his body. He was turned on by how pretty you looked, giving him soft eyes.

“Can I... Are there any like, other way I can make up for what's incomplete?” You mutter back, watching his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes. You blushed, hoping he wouldn't take offense from such question.

You stared into each other's eyes, feeling the same tension that arose from when he welcomed you into his room earlier, making Eren's breath hitch when he felt his dick twitch from under the towel. While your cheeks burned red from the sudden surge of confidence take over you.

“I was kinda waiting for you to ask...” Eren truthfully admitted, breaking the silence in between you. “Oh...” Your voice came out with sultriness, reaching a hand up to his stray hair before moving them out of the way as Eren licked his lips, eager for your taste. But the attempt to enchant him was all it took to push him over the edge.

“Goddamn.” His libido consumed him, smashing his lips to yours in an almost lip-bleeding manner. His lips danced over your soft ones, synchronizing your movements with his as you ran your hand through his hair, while Eren ran his hands up your waist and gently held on to it, not breaking the firey passionate kiss.

You started to gently push Eren back to his bed, letting you work your ways with him, which he's so entranced by. The back of his knees eventually hit the edge of the bed and you push him on the soft sheets, before you hovered above him, your arms propped up on the pillow where he laid. Eren looks up at you with a dominating-like stance above him, eyeing you down with such admiration and lust.

His bedside lamp perfectly illuminated your facial features and his chiseled ones. You once again captured his lips in a firey kiss with so much passion. Eventually, his tongue finds it's way in the kiss, both of you exploring each other in a fit of dominance, eventually, giving yourself entirely to Eren's access.

You reluctantly pulled away from his lips, quickly discarding your top and skirt while Eren helped, now leaving you in your underwear. You then reached behind the hook of your bra, before feeling the strong grip of his hand stop yours. “No, I'll take that off.” He insists, his free hand now hooking his finger under the strap, teasingly running his finger down before it snapped against your shoulder, all while keeping eye contact with you, while you trail your hand down to the towel hugging his waist then pulling off the tucked part to expose his body once and for all.

The next thing you know, Eren now had you fully under his dominance, trailing his lips down your neck and abdomen, enjoying the way your sweet moans echoed quietly in his room. Your hand met his locks again, feeling his lips leave wet kisses further down. “Can I?” He hooks a finger onto the waistband of your underwear, and you eagerly nod before he gently slides them off with his teeth, still keeping eye contact with you.

“Fuck, you're so hot.” You breathe out, letting your back fall onto the pillows. Eren now met your lips once again, his hands traveling to your back to get rid of your bra once and for all. You blindly reached for his dick and brushed your thumb over the tip. “Mhmmm, yeah, do that again.” His words came out breathy, now discarding your bra to the floor. You obliged, now adding your pointer finger into the equation and lightly pinching the tip. “Holy shit!” Eren covered his mouth and you carefully put his hand away.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're way too good at this.” You continue to pleasure his tip while Eren latched his mouth onto your breast. You now reach your free hand to pump his length, while still pleasuring his now sensitive tip, leaking with precum. “Mmmmm, A-AH SHIT! Yes baby...” Eren now had his face on your shoulder to conceal his moans, pushing your hands off his dick, not wanting to finish yet.

Your wrists were now crossed above your head, the cold metal on his rings cooling your skin. “Trying to make me cum early, huh?” He spat so casually before reaching to his bedside drawer for a condom and slipping it on. “Turn around.” He commands, and you immediately followed, your chest pressed against the soft sheets and your ass raised before feeling his strong hand roam your hip. “ That's a good girl.” He teases, now trailing his free hand up your shoulder to pin you down, while the other one guides his length up and down your soaking heat, making you shudder.

“Fuck me now!” and with that, Eren grips hard on your shoulder and slammed into you roughly, earning a loud moan from you. “Holy shiiiit...” He hissed as he watched his dick sink into your tight heat, a moan escaping your lips with every thrust he gave. “Fuck, Eren, harder!” The sound of his name slipping from your lips had only riled him up more, squeezing his eyes shut before reaching for your neck to grip tight. His other hand now traveled down your clit and rubbed as hard as his thrusts. “Shit, Eren!” You had trouble letting out moans with his hand restricting your airways, your pussy tightening around his length with every hard thrust.

“Cum for me, slut. So desperate to pay off that cash, huh?” He groaned out before briefly letting go of your neck and pulling out to quickly flip you over and thrusting back in. “Gonna cum for me, baby?” The commanding tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine and that was enough to send you over the edge, cumming all over his cock. His lips felt harsh, leaving wet kisses along your neck and shoulders as he rides out your high, cries of pleasure escaping your lips from the overstimulation.

After a few hard thrusts, his cock twitched and hips stilling as he came hard into the condom, giving slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy. After his hard high, Eren pulls out and collapses on top of you with his hands still on your hips, his rings now feeling cool yet warm at the same time.

“You're cool, I like you.” He randomly blurts out as you caught your breath, a laugh escaping from your lips.

His hands trail on your sides, sliding up to your jaw before planting a soft kiss on your lips. You smirked and traced your fingers over his toned chest, “I'll be owing you more money from now on.” You teased.

“Oh, I'll look forward to it.” Eren winks, his hair messy and beads of sweat dripping down his skin.

✧ a/n: my first Eren smut, how did i do?

[steveyockey]

do you think that -- if they WERE planning to do gay angel press initially -- part of the reason they didn't might have been the (reactionary) bury your gays backlash from fans and non-fans? in which case. twitter rly does ruin everything. :/

I’m not tied to this but here’s a hypothetical to work through that at least provides a theory on the lack of gay angel press (probably not very different from any other theory on this website but just writing it out for continuity),

okay. pre-pandemic. the arc of the final few episodes seems to have been set and 15.18 was the last piece, pending jensen’s approval. roadhouse heaven ending was a go — presumably featuring a cas cameo among other various and sundry friends. approving 15.18 introduces a problem by way of the fact that cas has just confessed his undying love for dean and there’s an expected response. but it’s fine! you don’t actually need that, you’ve been baiting fans for a decade, you can work your magic one more time with a lil wink and nudge and never have to deal with that again. ambiguous “to each his own” ending, you talk up the gay angel on one side and the bronly-ness of the last hunt on the other; everyone walks away happy. you have successfully threaded the needle of finishing off a twelve year queerbait without “caving to the fans,” high fives all around.

15.18 gets filmed. the angel is gay gay. the footage is. we don’t know what the footage looks like. there could be anything. maybe there’s a kiss with tongue. ends up not really mattering because the pandemic happens and they have to stop shooting and stop airing. no idea how much changes in 15.19 (clearly SOME stuff considering we know the folks who got chuck snapped in the silo were supposed to be shown back in the flesh and that got cut). 15.20 has to change — so roadhouse heaven becomes three person heaven (plus the cast and crew, who were already on set so no, this is not proof they could have brought a crowd of actors anyway, it’s just. weird. I don’t like this decision. strikes me as authoritative like WE told the story not YOU. anyway). putting cas in three person heaven makes winking and nudging a lot harder to do and would make the absence of an actual substantive response to the confession uhhhh very obvious. so you have to cut cas. and then maybe you have to cut other references to cas in 15.19, maybe you cut some emotionality from dean’s side in 15.18, maybe you straight up insert the moment in 15.20 where dean tells sam to stop being an eeyore about cas’s death! we don’t know how much was changed, but there was at least the opportunity at this point to dull dean’s response to the whole thing so the absence of cas in heaven is more palatable. it’s the bronly ending, but you already gave the audience the gay angel. and the gay angel is alive and building heaven with his son! no more cashing in on the queerbait but still cashing in on canon gay.

it’s november 5th. 15.18 airs. it trends higher than the biggest election “of our lives.” holy shit! gay angel! but of course the issue is the people responding aren’t the people who have been watching the show. they don’t have context for what’s going on and “turbohell” catches on. fuck. did you kill the gay angel? of course not, he’s in heaven with his son! lisa berry can post her goodbye instagram to her character because obviously billie’s dead, she’s the villain. she’s not expected to come back. but cas is... cas is different. and he’s not dead and you won’t be taking any questions on this until we get to the end, when everyone can settle down. so you have your actors gush about the episode, you leave everyone on pins and needles so they’ll come back for two more, and then! well. 15.20. cas is “alive” technically. dean is dead, as you always planned. some people are happy, some people are middling, and some people are fucking pissed at you because apparently by not outright killing off the gay angel you promised them the gay angel was coming back. any clarification you would offer here would unspool your entire plan — gay angel on one side, brothers on the other. erasing cas isn’t the same as killing him, but you can’t say that (though misha basically did in response to the rogue translator shenanigans). killing dean wasn’t even supposed to be about cas, but now everything is about cas. you took him out of the story completely and he’s still managed to take over. and all you can say is, well, it’s always been a story about brothers.

this obviously doesn’t account for everything, such as what the fuck was uriel’s actor doing? why the fuck did the show actually give us the instructions for how to get someone out of the empty and not do it? and there’s an infinite number of things that could have happened that I would simply never guess not knowing specific onset dynamics and money decisions. whatever happened that caused this clusterfuck really does suck for everyone in that writers room who was on team gay angel because, as I have said in the past, 15.18 only works due to at least four years, if not seven or more, of consciously writing the angel as gay. I hope bobo and yockey and even misha feel personal satisfaction at a job well done, but god if a single fucking interview could at least let us indulge in the victory with them. anyway, all of this is to say, yes I do think the bury-your-gays of it all definitely plays into it (and I would say, again, linking this to it chapter 2, it’s significant muschietti and co decided to make richie gay over eddie; people who haven’t read the book might not know that eddie like. literally drinks mineral water. in the 80s. he wears gucci loafers. he marries a carbon copy of his mother. stephen king would never admit to writing a gay man but that was a gay man. but eddie dies! eddie always dies. so they had some good sense in giving the gay story to the one who lives and leaving the dead one holding all the coding). and I definitely think randos on twitter making fun of the confession did not help matters. but I also think the decision to pull press cannot be extricated from the rubble of the last two episodes and everything they promised but never delivered. literally a single second of cas in the finale would have been their golden ticket! that’s far more than what jj did for star wars! but they got played at their own game by, of all things, an international pandemic. somehow a very supernatural ending after all.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Elvis!

(The Coolest Hep-Cat That Ever Walked the Earth!)

Stephen Jay Morris

7/4/2022

©Scientific Morality

The Devil offered me a contract to be a rock star. He said in a voice that sounded like Sebastian Gorka, “I want your soul for eternity!” He handed me the unsigned contract and I ripped it to shreds. “Rock Star? Fuck that noise! I want your job, Lew!” Like a fart in the wind, he vanished. But, then, I second-guessed myself and thought, ‘Maybe I should have taken the deal?’ I have been a nobody all my life—ever since that day.

Of course, that never happened, but for some demigods, they meet Satan as human incarnate.

Malcolm McLaren, was the manager of the Sex Pistols. He used all the tricks and duplicity his grifter mind could muster up to exploit them. Ultimately, he did what most grifters do: took all of the money due to them and disappeared. When they performed their last concert in San Francisco, he left them stranded in the USA with no airline tickets or cash. Malcolm high tailed it to South America.

Rock & Roll has a bad legacy of dishonest managers. Let’s start with the “Moses” of Rock & Roll, Elvis Presley. I want to state right here and now: Elvis would have been enormously famous without any manager or management entity. Same goes for the Beatles. Brian Epstein put them in suits, which made them look like British Lesbians. Enter Colonel Tom Parker, the illegal Alien from the Netherlands.

In his youth, Parker worked as a carnival barker. At 20, he illegally immigrated to the USA, finding similar work. Following an honorable discharge after two years in the U.S. Army, he re-enlisted only to go AWOL a short time later. He was charged with desertion and punished with solitary confinement, from which he emerged with a psychosis. He was briefly hospitalized and then discharged from the U.S. Army due to his mental condition.

Parker returned to the carnival circuit as a promoter and then music promotion, with his first client being Gene Austin, whose lagging career he rescued with his savvy promotional skills. Prior to this role, he’d managed the 1944 Louisiana gubernatorial race for racist Governor Jimmy Davis. By the way, Jimmy Davis wrote the song, “You Are My Sunshine.” Davis later gave Tom Parker the honorary rank of “colonel” in Louisiana’s non-existent State Militia, which title Parker used the rest of his life. Later, an unrelated job provided him the opportunity to use his promotional skills for fund raising, which is when he returned to music, promoting Country and Western acts. Among them were Eddy Arnold, Hank Snow, and Tommy Sands.

In 1955, when the Colonel first heard about Elvis, he was intrigued over how he might profit off of his unique musical style. When he first saw Elvis perform, he lost his shit! He saw his Golden Goose. Although Elvis was then being managed by radio personality, Bob Neal, the Colonel was a master manipulator. After persuading RCA to buy out Presley’s Sun Records contract for $40,000—an unheard of sum at the time—Parker, as part of the deal, paid Neal not to renew his management contract with Elvis. Parker then claimed the job for himself. Elvis was a trusting soul and signed on the dotted line. It would be the biggest mistake of his life!

Well, after almost three years of wearing masks, sheltering in place, and enduring Right wing chicanery on the media, Pamela and I went to see the new movie, “Elvis,” in the small town of Calicoon, New York. It was a beautiful, July day in the Catskills. The Catskills reminds me of the land of Ireland. Green, and I mean lush green! In this beautiful part of the world, however, we have Baby Boomer Motorcyclists cruising back and forth along New York Route 52, where our home is situated. Sometimes it gets on my nerves when those engines roar past my house.

When we arrived at the old theater, it immediately took me back to the days of my youth when I could just walk into a theater and watch a movie. After our three-year absence, I’d forgotten what movie popcorn tasted like.

Built in 1948, this theater was the perfect place to see this movie. The soundtrack was very loud, kind of like a Deep Purple concert. After a while, Pamela put some tissue in her ears. As for me, I’d been trying to recover from an ear infection. But, I made it through okay.

First of all, the actor who played Elvis, Austin Butler, is definitely in Oscar territory. He is the best “Elvis” I’ve ever seen! Veteran actor, Tom Hanks, played a great Colonel Tom Parker. The director, Daz Luhrmann, has interesting approaches in cinematic presentation. This was the first of his movies I’d seen. He is known for his quick cut editing style. The movie’s early Elvis segments had an 80’s video flow to it. The quick cuts weren’t as frequent and obnoxious as in some modern movies. I think Luhrmann wanted the viewer to experience a snapshot compilation of Elvis’ humble beginnings, so he represented them in a flowing, collage fashion. It worked. The movie, narrated by and told from Tom Parker’s perspective, magnified him as the devious character that he was. This portrayal made it clear that Parker saw only dollar signs and had absolutely no concern about Elvis as a human being and/or a cultural icon.

There are two types of capitalism: there is Democratic capitalism and then there is exploitative capitalism. Tom Parker was an illegal alien that saw exploitative capitalism as among the grandest virtues of American freedom. He was not a sympathetic character in the least. Do you know what a great actor is? Tom Hanks: he is a nice guy, but that character he played—you wanted to slap him!

If you love Rock & Roll, then this movie is a requirement for you! I highly recommend it. I only wish I’d been old enough to have seen Elvis’ rise. However, this movie suffices. Yeah, I loved it!

[songbirdsingingthings]

Secret Santa - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY TWENTY OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

The absolutely ecstatic feeling that you felt when you looked at the name on the slip of paper in your hands seemed to radiate around you, grabbing the attention from some of your classmates.

“Y/N, who’d you get?!” Asked an energetic Mina from behind you, trying to sneak a peek.

“Hey no looking, nosy!” You told her, shrugging her off of your shoulder and shielding your paper even more.

“There’s no harm nor fowl by just letting me know who you have, I promise I won’t tell!” The pink-haired girl said, sticking out her tongue. You rolled your eyes playfully but kept your person’s name to yourself.

“Sorry Mina, that’d ruin the fun!” You say, earning a hurumph from your best friend. The two of you start to make your way back to your dorm before you hear a sweet voice filter through your ears.

“Hey Y/N! I’m going shopping at the mall this weekend for my secret santa, do you want to come along?” That giddy feeling you got when you pulled your person’s name returned and filled you up with butterflies. You turned around to see the one calling your name, who just so happened to be the same person on your slip of paper. Izuku Midoriya. Many people called him the ‘golden boy’ of class 1-A or would say something along the lines of how he had a habit of breaking his bones, but Izuku to you was just the loveliest person your eyes had laid their eyes on. With a green mop of hair, a set of sparkling emerald eyes, and a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks, Izuku never failed to make your heart flutter. He didn’t even have to speak to you, just looking at him evoked a reaction from you that no crush of yours ever had before.

“Uh, Y/N? He asked you a question, are you in there or has your mind moved to a different residence?” Mina quipped, nudging your shoulder with hers. You shook out of your state of daydreaming and a blush broke out across your cheeks.

“Oh, uh, yes! That’d be great!” You said quickly. Izuku gave you a wide smile and nodded.

“Great, how about we go at about 10:30 tomorrow morning?” He suggests. You nod and flash him a grin.

“Yeah, that’s good with me!” You respond cheerily.

“Awesome! I’ll see you then, good night!” He says smiling, turning back around to head to his own dorm. You make sure to wait until he’s completely out of your line of sight and you’re out of his before you have a mini celebration with Mina.

“Did he just ask you out?!” Mina whisper-squealed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you. Your brain just turned to mush at her words, too caught up in the moment. All you could do was smile and match your friend’s enthusiasm. “C’mon, let’s go pick out an outfit for you to wear tomorrow!”

*The Next Day*

You laugh as you see Izuku’s reaction to how packed the mall was on a Saturday morning.

“I didn’t think it’d be this crowded!” He exclaims, looking around.

“People are probably here to try and make a last-ditch effort to find a gift for someone since Christmas is only a few days away,” you say, smiling as the two of you walk along the mall, occasionally peering into stores. Izuku nods and smiles.

“So what kind of thing are you thinking of getting your secret santa?” He asks. His question makes you nearly trip over your feet but you recover quickly.

“Oh, well, I don’t really know. The person really likes pro-heroes so I was thinking of getting them maybe a figurine or something.” You say, trying to make it sound like you were talking about him. Izuku nods, seems to think about something, and then seems to brighten.

“I know exactly the place to find what you’re looking for!” He says, grabbing onto your hand and leading you to a store with bright colors all around it. Your mind was so caught up in the moment that you forgot to register his hand around yours. “This is where I always come to find new All Might figurines.” He says. You step into the store and almost start laughing. This place was basically Izuku’s brain in a nutshell - All Might merchandise covered the store wall-to-wall, the smiling hero everywhere.

“Wow, this is so cool!” You gush, going up to the shelves and looking at all of the figurines. You spend a few minutes mulling over your choices before you spot Izuku eyeing a particular figure. “Do you like that one?” You ask him, trying to be subtle.

“Huh? Oh, yeah this is the newest one! I’ll have to save up for it though, it’s a little bit on the expensive side…” he says, sparing one last look towards the All Might figure. “Did you find what you were looking for?” He asks. You nod as you look at what the green-haired boy previously had his eyes on and smile.

“Yeah! I just need to pay for it. If you want, I can meet you back somewhere if you have to go to a store?” You suggest, trying to keep him from finding out what you were buying. 

“Sure! I’ll meet you back at the entrance!” He suggests. You nod and smile, silently celebrating your win. He’s gonna be so happy when he opens it up, you think to yourself, grabbing the box with the figure and bringing it up to the cash register

*Christmas Morning*

“Okay everyone, you can give your gift to your Secret Santa!” Iida announces, standing in front of the Christmas tree in the common room. A flurry of activity erupted as everyone started to get up and find their person. All you had to do was turn to your left to see Izuku sitting next to you, already waiting for you.

“Wait- did you have me?” You ask, a shocked smile gracing your face. Izuku matches your expression and laughs a bit.

“Yeah! And I take it, you have me?” He asks back, a small blush dancing across his cheeks. You giggle and nod, extending your wrapped gift towards the green-haired boy.

“Merry Christmas!” you chirp. He gives you a grin as he begins to peel back the wrapping paper. His jaw drops as he takes the box out of its shell of paper.

“Y-you got this for me?!” He exclaims, his green eyes raking over every detail of the figure.

“Well I just saw how much you wanted it, so I just had to get it for you.” You confess. A wild smile erupts on his face as he lunges forward, wrapping you up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, I love it! I love you!” He says happily. The two of you didn’t really process his last confession until a few moments later when the both of you tense up a bit and pull back to reveal Izuku’s beet red face and your equally as flushed one. “I-I, uh… umm…” He stutters, clearly at a loss for words.

“I love you too.” You say breathlessly. While it was revealed a few minutes later that he got you concert tickets to your favorite artist, the two of you could both agree - your love-filled revelations were the best gifts you could get each other.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 11

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) – highly suggestive scene and the angst train is back in action for this part

Word count: 2470

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

The celebrations continued even once you were back in Blayne. News travelled that Jaehyun had come in fourth with his score at the rodeo, earning him a cash prize and a qualifying ticket. When his truck hurtled down the main street, the evening was brighter than usual.

You peered curiously at Avery and then at the diner’s lights. “Shouldn’t that be closed by now?”

“They’re waiting for us,” he mentioned with a loose grin, and you blinked blankly. “To celebrate!”

“Oh! Right, of course. Everyone knows you’ve done it.” Glancing over at Jaehyun, who had been mostly silent for the ride home, you gave him a small smile before swallowing down your emotions.

Once you had pulled away from that life-altering kiss, Jaehyun had been taken in one direction and you in the other. He had interviews to do, and people within the circuit to meet with. Although the sun had still been out when he had finished his run, dusk had swooped in and carried it away by the time you were finally loading back up into the truck.

There was so much to talk about with Jaehyun.

“We won’t stay for long,” he announced when he parked the truck into the free spot outside the diner, and a small gasp left you when you found the place bustling with people.

Avery smirked. “We’re a tight-knit community. We celebrate everyone’s successes like this.”

“And everyone’s misfortunes too,” Jaehyun muttered, plastering a smile on his face before opening the door to the truck.

You hesitated to get out, and Jaehyun turned back to look at you questioningly. Rubbing your neck, you pointed awkwardly to the party. “Should I come in or wait out here?”

“Why are you even hesitating? You’re part of this world now.”

Still unconvinced, you took the hand he offered to help you down and then nodded softly, feeling rather subdued despite the happy atmosphere.

The noise once you were all inside increased tenfold, party poppers and streamers going off around you both. Jaehyun laughed and held out his arms to the heavens. “Looks like I’m still pretty decent, huh?!”

And then you lost track of all the conversations that began around you. Jaehyun was proudly talking about his run and Avery had shown everyone the recorded clip of it. You nodded and clapped along when prodded to join in, but remained on the outskirts.

It was foreign for you to see so many people come together like this to support each other. Sure, you had friends and family, but even then, it was never like this. A text to say congratulations when you got a promotion from your parents or some quiet drinks with a few friends to celebrate an award you had received. Nothing as loud as this.

You realised you craved this more than what you had back home. The community here was one that cared about each other. Even if they gossiped endlessly and had no filter at times, each person within the diner cared about the one they sat or stood next to. They had grown together, shared their burdens and prevailed against the odds as one.

It amazed you how much you still had to learn about Blayne even after living here for a couple of months.

“Y/N, did you enjoy the rodeo?” a voice asked, and you turned, smiling warmly at June.

“It was quite the experience.”

“You look rather exhausted.”

You nodded once. “A little.”

“Jaehyun, can you run Y/N home now?”

“Oh no! This is all about him, and I’m fine. Honestly.”

Jaehyun was at your side almost immediately, and he grinned. “I bet this is all too much for Miss City here. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“But-!” you exclaimed as he gently tugged you out of the seat you had managed to secure earlier, dragging you to the exit with a hasty farewell. He opened the door to the truck and helped you in before rounding the other side and climbing aboard.

You stared at him. “You don’t have to-”

“My Mum is a gem, isn’t she?” he stated with a small smile, waving to those inside the diner. “She always finds ways for me to escape.”

“You mean her coming over to me just now was…?”

Jaehyun grinned. “Thanks for saving my butt tonight. I get really uncomfortable after an hour of being praised. It feels foreign to me.”

“Why? You’re the golden boy. No one can touch the Jung’s.”

Jaehyun smiled sadly as he started down the road. “Attention isn’t something much that I enjoy.”

“It sure looks like you did at the rodeo,” you mentioned, and Jaehyun shook his head, changing gear on the truck before reaching for your hand.

You could tell he had been craving your touch for some time.

“I wanted to have some time with just you earlier than this.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I need to be anywhere else.”

Jaehyun sighed. “Don’t you have people waiting on you though?”

“People where?”

“Back in the city. Your work colleagues, your friends, your family. They’ll need you.”

“I miss them, for sure. Especially Natty. But it’s not like it is out here. Relationships are different.”

“We’re different?”

“Well I’ve never met a cowboy in the suburbs,” you teased, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“What you said earlier, what we did, I get it was the heat of the moment. A different atmosphere than what we both usually-”

“Are you backing out on me, Mr Cowboy?” you asked firmly, and Jaehyun glanced at you several times before stopping the truck in the middle of the country road.

“I’m giving you an option if you want to take it.”

“Didn’t you give me that once you ducked under the bar and came to my side?”

“You’re serious?”

“You don’t think I could love you already?” you proposed, staring intensely at the man beside you.

Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, only to close it a moment later. He grinned. “You’ve rendered me speechless.”

“Why? Because you hoped I didn’t?”

“No, I hope you fall madly for me.”

“I’m well on my way,” you confirm, and Jaehyun shook his head incredulously. “What? Has no woman ever told you that they like you?”

“I’ve never felt deserving of it, no.”

“You and that self-worth of yours,” you muttered, reaching over to cup his jaw in your hand. Jaehyun caught your gaze, and you smiled. “I love you.”

“I don’t think that’s ever going to get old to hear.”

“You’ve not said it back once,” you pointed out, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“You’ve been waiting for it, huh?”

“Normally most people describe it as one says I love you, and the next says it back. I’ve seen enough movies about it,” you mentioned as Jaehyun finally started to drive again, soon heading down the start of your driveway.

“Claim? How come you sound as if you haven’t said anything like this before?”

“Because I haven’t,” you confessed, and Jaehyun stared at you then. You darted your gaze to the drive and reached for the steering wheel to balance the truck out. “Would you watch where you’re going?!”

“Would you stop making my heart swell so much?” he breathed, and you chewed on your lip quietly, Jaehyun taking back the wheel and gripped it tightly.

The energy was charged between you by the time he turned off the ignition and opened the squeaky truck door, you soon following him out.

Stretching your fingers out to try and loosen some of the tension coiling up within you, you both walked side by side up the porch and over to your front door.

“Well, if you’re exhausted, I should let you rest,” Jaehyun stated, and you nodded numbly, reaching in your purse for your keys.

“I had a good time. Thanks for taking me.”

“Sleep well, won’t you,” he said as you opened the front door, stepping over the threshold and taking hold of the wooden frame. You turned to glance back at Jaehyun, the deep way he looked at you causing your stomach to flip.

He didn’t move, however, and you slowly moved the door to close it until his hand reached out and stopped it, your heart now pounding with anticipation.

“I’m so in love with you,” he confessed hurriedly, stepping over the doorframe and picking you up in his arms.

You curled your limbs around him effortlessly, kissing him with demand as he shut the door, hands roaming and tugging at the clothes between you both.

It felt like too much effort to follow the path up to the bedroom, Jaehyun acting disorientated as he moved around the place, shedding your upper clothing in the process. Somehow you ended up in the kitchen, a moan leaving you as he propped you down on the countertop, your hands finally ridding him of the singlet that had been under his rodeo shirt.

He equally had removed your bottoms, staring at you in a way that made you feel like the only woman made for him. You embraced him as soon as he was close enough to, and Jaehyun groaned into your ear. “I’ve been in love with you for some time now.”

“It’s not a race. Just because you hold a record around these parts, doesn’t mean you need to prove you beat me to feel something back for you.”

“You’re something else you know that? Who knew you’d come into this town and change everything for me?”

“Whatever happened to the guy who told me I wouldn’t last a month?” you breathed out, arching your back as his mouth trailed from your neck to your chest.

Jaehyun smirked at you then, his hands moving to cup your breasts within them. “You made sure about adapting to this place.”

“It’s not so bad. I mean, sometimes I would kill for the accessibility of the city, and have a Starbucks nearby. The smell sometimes out here is something I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I feel there’s a but attached here,” he mused, reaching up to kiss your lips passionately. It was strange to be having such a conversation with the temperature and physical needs between you increasing.

Yet when you pulled back for more air, you beamed at him. “But I’m falling in love with this place, this town, and your people. I couldn’t imagine my life any other way now.”

The new week began, and you felt as if you were riding along on cloud nine. Everything was beautiful out here. You worked, you explored, and you loved long into the summer nights with Jaehyun. Your riding lessons continued, and now that you had the hang of loping, you would often feel exhilarated riding Roger. You felt free and empowered.

Blayne was more than just a small blip on any map.

Despite it all, you still regarded the reason you came here as a priority. With your plan neatly tucked into your briefcase, and slipping into one of your more casual business attires, you looked into the mirror of the bathroom and smoothed down your hair.

“Today’s the day,” you told your reflection, smiling brightly.

Everything about you felt ready right now. You had all the signatures you had sought out, and word had travelled enough for Mr Jung to reach out for this meeting to happen a day earlier.

Today you would get the piece of land you needed to start the redevelopment.

You drove to the Jung’s homestead with your game face on, your finger tapping on the steering wheel repeatedly. You hummed a tune to yourself and ran through the opening part to your proposal in your head. When you parked the car, you smiled brightly at Avery when you crossed him on the yard, but he didn’t return the gesture quite as genuinely.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” you greeted all the same, and Avery grimaced.

“I think you might need to prepare yourself.”

“Oh, I’m completely ready for this,” you assured him, but Avery shook his head.

“Not for your plan. Listen, Y/N, things have-”

“You’re here,” Mr Jung cut in, and you turned your attention to the elder, nodding confidently at the man. “Come inside.”

Following him in and frowning at Avery’s worried expression, you stopped midway in taking the seat across from Mr Jung’s desk when you noticed Jaehyun sitting in the one next to it. “What are you doing here? I can pitch my idea to your father alone.”

“Pitch your idea?” Mr Jung repeated, laughing hollowly. “I didn’t ask you here today to listen to any nonsense about the resort plans your company has. I have no interest in them.”

“With full respect, Mr Jung, I’ve worked incredibly hard with the people of Blayne to find a happy medium.”

“And just how many of them did you sleep with or was it just my boy here?”

“Dad!”

“No. I want to hear it from her. Was it in the plan you made to sleep with my son to get the land, to trespass onto what can never be yours, and fool this idiot into thinking you could actually have something together?”

You were rendered speechless, your game face falling away and crumbling into a thousand pieces. You tried to say something, anything, to not only prove your sincerity but to defend yourself against his vicious attack.

However, Mr Jung’s tongue wasn’t done yet, and he glared at his son, shaking his head slowly. “I should have left you to die in that fire you started. If this was how you wanted to end Blayne, I’d much rather you have gone up in smokes back then than face you and your betrayal now.”

The information stunned you further, and your head jarringly turned to the man now sobbing in the chair beside you. “You were the one to start the fire?”

“It’s not how you see it!” Jaehyun exclaimed, though to whom, you didn’t quite know.

Regathering yourself, you shook your head. “Mr Jung, please allow me to explain myself, as you requested earlier.”

“You have nothing of worth for me to listen to. I’d like for you to pack your bags and be gone from Blayne before sunset.”

“Excuse me?! Surely I can do something to change your opinion-”

Mr Jung slammed his fist down on the table. “Outsiders like you only cause problems for the people who breathe for this place. Get out and don’t come back.”

Glancing at Jaehyun, who was rocking back and forth in his chair holding his head, and then back at the resolute expression on the owner of this land’s face, you finally allowed your emotions to burst through, choking on the sob that followed.

“I’m so sorry!” you announced before turning for the door and running out it.

_________________

Part 12

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Hi! Long time lurker, big fan of this blog. Can I request either a headcannon or a fic of Viv Tang?

Basically, it goes like this, it's an AU of some sort, where Viv and the Poppy leave MC. MC tried to hate them and forget them especially Viv, but couldn't do it. So out of spite and care, MC creates a whole organisation that revolves around protecting Viv and the others. (Making sure their heists go well, the police/government never finding them, making sure that their old enemies never get to them etc.) They've been doing this in private, but Viv and the others catch on, and that thought bothers them. Enough to make them distracted in their latest heist.

Their heist went down in shambles, leaving MC's crew to step in and made sure they're safe, leaving MC's mark to take the blame.

They were confused ofc, but MC's crew was just giddy and happy that they get to meet their leader's old crew.

Basically, they meet MC, MC makes them make it up to her.

And we know how in the original Viv route, we try really hard to pry her open and get her to trust us, well Viv does the same, trying to get MC to forgive her. And just angst ending with fluff please?

Lots of Love <3

This will contain both HC and story parts.

…

·         After Vivienne leaves MC poisoned in Paris, of course she’s pissed.

·         A talk with Jace (and some stress painting) later, MC feels like she has a pretty good grasp of Vivienne’s decision

“She was scared,” she muses, idly playing with one of her brushes, a thoughtful frown on her face as her mind wanders to the other members. “And they were… willing to give her a way out, I guess? Pretty messed up, considering they got me in this whole thing to begin with…”

Thing is, they hadn’t left her without something. Zoe had made sure MC could return to her normal life ‘after you lay low for a bit, probably two months’, advice left in a letter alongside some cash. Enough to buy a few plane tickets around the world. First class.

Even after their most recent decision, MC could recall how careful and welcoming everyone had been. Vivienne was always a mystery, of course, lingering at the edge while MC got to know Jett and Zoe in the Art Club they had formed, or as MC debated with Remy and Leon about a movie they had been watching. With Nikolai, it was mostly challenges Nikolai loved to issue and MC was too proud to deny. But she was always there, in the background. She had become a rather comforting presence, as MC had formed bonds with everyone.

“This was not the best course of action, but they took it anyway.” Vivienne’s choice had been driven by emotion, raw panic, but MC just couldn’t wrap her mind around Nikolai or Zoe, both logical to the bone, supporting it. “There must have been something else, there.”

·         With the anger slowly cooling off, MC thought she could almost begin to understand their reasons. The Poppy isn’t the sort of group to taint their hands with blood, not unless it’s absolute necessary.

·         Celine had pushed everyone, even if the heist ended on a positive note.

·         ‘I believe you have a place with us’, Nikolai had said. MC remembered the heist and how everything could have gone wrong.

·         Their talent and quick-thinking are the only reason they got out of that situation relatively unharmed.

·         No doubt the rest of their heists carried the same danger.

·         MC thought of Celine, gun aiming at her chest, eyes glinting in Vivienne’s direction and made a split-second decision.

·         There was no way, no way at all, that she was going to let anything happen to them.

…

·         When Vivienne had first noticed the sudden lack of danger in their heists, she was instantly suspicious.

·         She couldn’t afford to brush anything off in her line of work.

·         Zoe finds the source in no time.

·         To say they were confused as an understatement.

“I thought she was back in New York?”

“I don’t understand, why would she choose this?”

“We’re hardly so incompetent as to need a guard.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Couple months, so maybe they started operating around March?” Zoe throws them a withering look so they’ll shut up, and lets out a long sigh once they do. “Point is, we’ve gained a new stalker, even if it’s her. She got a whole organization going, she’s pretty dedicated.”

“Of course she is, it’s why we choose her in the first place.”

“Technically, Vivienne did.”

“Well, yeah. Still, this is insane. So little time, and yet…”

“MC was always a fighter,” Vivienne says, quietly. “It’s certainly an… interesting choice…”

“She seems to have very good intel,” Zoe continues, eyes glued to her laptop’s screen. “Too good. She knows our every movement.”

“Which means she will be lurking around this heist.” Nikolai drums his fingers against his armchair, a frown firmly in place. “That might be a problem.”

“She’s been doing this for months, but we’ve never caught a glimpse of her. It’s safe to say she won’t approach us, right?”

“We probably shouldn’t, either. Not for now. We need more info on this organization of hers.”

“We’ll proceed as planned.”

·         Except nothing goes as planned.

·         Jett’s bombs don’t go off when they should, providing no distraction and thus no way of escape for Vivienne and Nikolai.

·         No safe way, at any rate.

·         The guards get suspicious of their malfunctioning equipment remarkably quick, moving to search the place.

·         Remy gets found out first, though he stalls as much as he can.

·         It’s enough time for Leon and Nikolai to think for a way out, though Remy is still with the guards.

·         The bombs go off at that moment, and Vivienne is trapped.

·         It’s at that moment that MC’s crew intervene.

·         The guards are the most important issue, and so most of her crew go handle it.

·         MC takes care of Vivienne personally.

“Well, that went great.” MC says, flashing Vivienne a cheeky smile when she finds her. Vivienne looks up at her with wide eyes, brown eyes glinting under the light of the room.

“How did you…”

“Questions later, darling. Can you walk?”

Vivienne blinks, taking a deep breath. The motion helps her get rid of most of her surprise. She knows she doesn’t have time to lose, so she accepts MC hand and follows her out. The trip is quiet, of course. Vivienne keeps a carefully neutral expression on, eyes flickering from the woman in front of her to the rest of their escape route.

It’s hard, trying to compare this woman with the one she had kissed all those months ago. She remembers how her hands grasped at her robe, passionate, truthful, those sweet words MC had muttered against Vivienne’s mouth, before the poison had taken effect.

MC had said she would never hurt Vivienne. Vivienne had poisoned her, afraid she would hurt MC.

It didn’t feel like she could hurt the woman before her, though, standing tall and strong and confident, a leader, someone made out of stone. For a moment, Vivienne had the impression poison wouldn’t even work on her anymore.

·         MC had changed. It was as clear as the water glimmering outside the organization’s HQ.

·         She wasn’t the same bubbly, hopeful girl Vivienne had taken around Paris, teaching everything she could about thievery.

·         She wasn’t the same passionate, proud artist she had been, brush in hand, smiling in wonder and then frowning in concentration when she tried to capture something beautiful. Somehow, most of the time, the subject of her painting was Vivienne herself.

·         She was steely, snarky, commanding the room with her very presence. All eyes followed her as she went, speaking clear orders for the crew to follow.

·         In the beginning, they had stuck to the Gilded Poppy like glue, curious. No doubt they were trying to see why MC cared about them so much to go through this kind of trouble.

·         One look from MC was enough to get them to disperse.

·         This change… everything it entailed… Vivienne wanted to know more.

“So, how did it feel?” MC had asked her as soon as they got a moment alone. Vivienne shot her a glance, trying to decipher something in her expression.

“How did what feel?”

“Thinking you could force me out of this. You got me in this life.”

“I gave you a way out.”

“But I told you, didn’t I? I wanted this, and you…”

“I’ve lived all my life like this. I didn’t want you to face-”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have chosen me, then. Ever think of this little thing called consequences?”

Isadora flashes through her mind, quick, too quick. It leaves a trail of golden hair in the back on her mind, all too real when she closes her eyes. Vivienne presses her lips together, forces herself to focus.

“This organization…”

“Don’t let it get to your head, darling. It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“…The others, then.”

“Yes. Quid pro quo, and all that. I’ll see what I can ask in return later.”

“We didn’t ask you to intervene.”

“You didn’t ask before poisoning me, either. I feel like doing drastic things without asking for permission are common place around here.”

“That doesn’t even-”

“Ah, ah, ah. Did I save your lives, yes or no?”

Jett had said, before they got released from the medical ward, that the plan failing was entirely his fault, after getting too distracted thinking about MC to get his usual formulas right. Vivienne didn’t doubt him – Jett was, after all, very dedicated to his craft. A mistake was unthinkable, unless something of this magnitude managed to get to him.

He felt guilty and weirded out, probably, she thinks bitterly, despite everything being my fault, as per usual.

“…you did.”

The smile that stretches over MC’s face is almost predatory, brown eyes glinting with satisfaction. “That’s what I like to hear.”

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, booksandeverlark!

Our sincerest apologies for the delay on your gift, @booksandeverlark​! We hope your birthday back on October 22nd was a wonderful one, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for. To bring your party feels back around, the lovely @mega-aulover​ has written a monster of a fic just for you!

RATED E - For sexual situations and trigger warnings for manhandling and mild violence.  Some Hunger Characters are off Cannon for the purpose of the story. 

a/n Peeta Mellark is one of the worlds most recognizable stars, and he needs a break. He goes missing and is hiding in plain sight because he has fallen for Katniss Everdeen who is raising a tween Prim. Everything goes according to plan until one day Hollywood comes a’callin  

- special thanks to @norbertsmom who beta’d this monster of a story. 20K sorry to Booksandeverlark for the lateness of the story I hope you had a belated birthday.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete Holly Golightly 

-THE JUNKET 

“Where the hell is the kid?” Haymitch growled. 

“He’s in his bedroom,” his red-haired assistant said, popping her gum not even looking up from her phone.

Haymitch opened the door, and saw red.  He took his phone and called the kid, and the phone began ringing. There was a buzzing sound coming from behind the ensuite bathroom. The younger generation never went anywhere without their phones. The kid was no exception. 

“Kid,” Haymitch marched into the room and banged on the door. 

He had a bone to pick with the kid. The junket was a roller coaster. The kid was barely coherent during the second half of the interviews.  His co-stars did the heavy lifting.  Haymitch did everything in his power to get the kid in this movie, and he was brilliant, an Oscar worthy performance, but now the kid was burnt out.

The phone began buzzing again. 

“Come on Peeta. I know you’re in there I can hear the phone buzzing.” 

It was silent on the opposite side of the bathroom door. 

“Kid,” Haymitch said once more. Peeta was one of the most responsible people. Today was so out of character for him. Yet again, the pressure by the press lately made the kid feel like a guppy in a bowl full of piranhas.

A few weeks ago, some not-so-distinguished members of the press broke into the kid’s home. Peeta’s privacy was smashed when he found out it was his own mother who gave the pap’s the key to his house for a cool $100K. Ever since then the kid changed.

Haymitch was worried. The pressure was getting to Peeta. He was no longer having fun. His smiles never reached his eyes anymore. Haymitch was just about the only one who could tell when Peeta became Peet-the-movie-star. No one could distinguish the polished, charming, and funny persona from the genuine affable, fiercely loyal, kind kid Peeta was at the core of his being. 

After the press junket was over the kid gave him the slip. Normally they talked about the next project or movie. Opening the door, Haymitch cursed when he saw the kids’ phone on the bathroom counter with a note next to it.

“Haymitch, I’m just exhausted. I need a break. I promise I’ll be at the world premiere of the movie - Holly Golightly.” 

Haymitch crushed the note in his hand. He laughed bitterly at the code name the kid gave himself whenever he checked into a hotel. The kid loved the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Thankfully, this was the last appearance Peeta had to make before the movie premier in less than a week. But a week later, when Peeta didn’t make it to his movie premiere, the entire industry went up in arms.

Peeta's disappearance was the talk of the town. Even three weeks later the fury hadn’t died down. Every paparazzi fueled by the promise of the mini fortune for the first picture of Peeta Mellark was now hunting down the kid. The good boy gone missing had every tabloid spinning articles and fake sightings. Peeta had gone into the Elvis Presley stratosphere of speculation. Everything from aliens, to he became a monk. One thing for certain, the pap’s were seeking Peeta like a struggling dieter seeking a rich German chocolate cake.

-THE SEARCH

“You got any proof you saw Peeta Mellark?” Claudius questioned Judy Morphling.

“You got the cash?” the thin girl with the dark circles under her eyes asked.

Claudius showed Judy the white envelope filled with a couple of hundred-dollar-bills. She was a junkie. And he took advantage of her broke status to make a quick buck to fix her addiction. Claudius slipped the envelope back into his pocket. He wasn't fooled by kids like these.

He’d spent the past four weeks hunting down dead ends. People willing to sell their left arm for money. True, there were other pursuits where he scored a couple of thousand. The hottest going ticket in tinsel town was finding the whereabouts of Hollywood's golden good boy Peeta Mellark. The movie he was in had gone to number one for the past four weeks. It was driven by the mystery of his disappearance, and the phenomenal acting performance in the movie about race. It was a true story, a love story about a man who moved heaven and earth for the love of his life, a freed slave. 

“Okay,” she said.

“Now the proof,” Caludius demanded. 

He was familiar with his informant's story, all too well. Judy won a popular game show when she was in college. She became an instant national sweetheart. During her 15 minute of fame, she was invited to every single hot Hollywood party. Subsequently, she got hooked on alcohol and drugs. One of the bellhops tipped him off that she was in the hotel where Peeta was having the junket and that she had seen him the day he disappeared.

She looked side to side nervously reaching into her pocket to whip out her phone. "Here."

With detached indifference he looked at the picture. It was hard to tell, the guy had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Claudius swiped the screen and saw that trademark chiseled chin his ex fawned over. It was him. Still, knowing the kid had walked out of the junket didn’t help him. He wasn’t ready to part with his money for just any reason.  “This could be anyone,” he said.

Judy lifted an eyebrow. “A friend of mine that works at a gas station said he also saw him.”

Claudius took a step back. “Sorry Judy. I need real proof.”

“I just need something to tide me over...please...look I have a friend... my friend’s name is Morph.”

“Morph like in the TV show?”

“His mom was a big into 1970’s reruns.” She shrugged, though the light trembling in her lips let Caludius know she was desperate. 

“Okay look.” He took out a twenty and showed it to her. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the money. “Give me this guys information. If it proves to be fruitful, I’ll pay you what you asked for.”

“Okay,” she held out her hand. “I’ll text you his information.”

His phone buzzed. He looked down at the information. “That’s out of State?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were on the money. 

“You say he works at a gas station?” Claudius enjoyed taunting his informants. He waved the cash, like a cat and mouse game. 

“Near the border.”  

Claudius withdrew the folded bill. He needed assurances that she wasn’t just talking to get the money and not coming through with information vital to him. The payout for finding Mellark was nearly 200K. Judy licked her lips as her eyes followed the money reaching out with her hand.

“I’ll text Morph to give you an exclusive.” 

“Text him now.”

“Okay, okay.” Judy’s fingers moved quickly over the screen of her phone. She even included him in the group chat. When the reply came back as “no problem”, Claudius was satisfied. 

“Here ya go,” Claudius said, giving her the twenty bucks. He walked away; he needed to make the trip to Peeta Mellark’s last known position. He hummed as he got into his car, thrilled for the chase. 

-LIVING WITH THE ENEMY

Gale Hawthorne glowered from underneath the tree in his backyard as District Twelve’s newest resident, that blond painter Pete Golightly, made a move on Katniss Everdeen. He was supposed to be taking out the trash when he saw them by the curbside.

They stood so close in the dark that she was swallowed up by the guy's physique. But they weren’t touching, and although that was a relief, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. 

He liked Katniss. No, that was an understatement. He more than liked her, he could see that there was a potential between them. She was smart, he wouldn’t call her pretty, hell she never smiled. But she made sense to him, she was practical, determined, efficient, loyal, punctual, and some much more. Katniss never looked at him like a piece of man meat. A lot of girls looked at him that way.

Frankly it was great, but sometimes, Gale sighed, sometimes he wanted to have an honest conversation with a girl. With Katniss he could, he’d talk, sure she didn’t say much, but she listened and that’s what he wanted. He held a candle for her so long that watching her with the new guy made him grow tense. He wanted to punch a wall.

The nerve in his temple drummed making his headache even worse. 

Rubbing his temple he wondered what the hell a guy like Golightly had that made Katniss, and for that matter, every single woman within a fifty mile radius act like a cat in heat.  Even his own mother talked about how handsome the painter was. And of all of the available girls, the douche chose Katniss to hang around. 

The peal of girlish laughter reached his ears. Gale walked closer, using the darkness to hide himself. He wanted to hear what they were saying. He crouched by her car. From this position he could see them. Pete dipped his head low near hers. Gale knew that hovering move, it was a move he used to get close enough to kiss a girl. 

Gale furled his fist. He watched Katniss reach up and smooth Pete’s golden locks away from his face. 

Katniss didn’t do that. She didn’t touch people, hell she didn’t like to be touched. He recalled how she recoiled when he tried to touch her. She did the same thing at Greasy Sea's whenever someone touched her by accident. Gale loved it when she scowled at them.   

Then she leaned up on tiptoe.

“No, no, no,” Gale ground out.  He then stood agog as Katniss lifted her head up to kiss Pete Golightly. 

It wasn’t a long kiss. It was really a peck, but Gale could see that both parties enjoyed the kiss. Her hand was perched on his chest and his hand covered it while the other one cupped her chin. This guy was a smooth operator.  Gale’s head pounded as he saw red. 

Pete separated from Katniss and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he walked away to his car. Once he pulled out, Gale stood to his full height. 

“I thought you didn’t have time for that.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.  He stomped over to her, his fists curling and uncurling. He was trying to keep his calm. 

Katniss turned around and gasped her eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight. “What the hell are you doing, Gale?” 

She had the look of a girl who was properly kissed and that drove Gale insane. “You chose that pasty faced wimp?”

Her face transformed into that steely scowl of hers. She walked around him. 

Gale followed. “I’m talking to you.”

She ignored him as she moved forward. 

When she reached the front door of the garage apartment she rented from his mother, he turned her around, leaning down toward her. “What, you don’t have anything to say?”

Katniss looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of your damned business.” 

Gale was going to say something to her when she opened the door to the apartment and quicker than a fox stealing eggs from a henhouse she slipped inside and shut the door in his face. 

Gale pounded on the side of the door. This wasn’t over. 

-80’s QUEEN

“Prim,” Katniss hollered through the bathroom door of the small studio apartment.

The apartment was basically a portion of Hazel Hawthorn's garage. There was no privacy except for the small airplane sized bathroom. She jiggled the bathroom doorknob. Prim was going to be late for the bus.

“Katniss!” Prim screeched from the other side.

She rolled her eyes at her baby sister's dramatic response. “You’re going to be late for school.”

The door opened and Prim stood there pouting, her blond hair a riot. Katniss did not dare gasp. Prim was a tween and Katniss knew how vicious kids could be at school. Instead she sighed, “Okay, what can I do to help?” 

“It’s 80’s day at school today and I need to look like that,” Prim pointed to the picture on her phone of Christie Brinkley. 

“We’re going to need a lot of hairspray and a brush,” Katniss rolled up the sleeves of her shirt.

“But I’m going to be late to school!” Prim cried.

Prim was twelve and at this age everything was a crisis. Katniss wasn’t as dramatic as Prim at that age, though she was moody. “Hey, I’ll give you a ride into school. It will be alright,” Katniss smiled over Prim’s head, their reflected images showed a united front. They were as different as night and day, but both girls had their dad’s smile and their mom’s button nose. 

"Thanks Katniss," Prim said in a small voice. She was almost a teenager, but still very much a little girl.

"Okay, let's rock this." Hair and makeup wasn’t her strong suit but Katniss had a crash course having to take guardianship of her baby sister at the age of eighteen. When their parents died, Katniss fought tooth and nail for her sister. She didn’t want Prim to go into the foster care system. She elected not to go to college and found a job. She sold their parents’ house, paid off the debts and made a home for herself and her then 10-year-old sister. 

It was a rough learning curve, but somehow Katniss made it work. 

Taking a brush, she quickly brushed and smoothed her sister's hair. She took a portion of Prim's beautiful wavy blond hair and put it in a side ponytail. The rest of her hair Katniss curled and teased into perfect 80's puffiness. Combined with her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt she borrowed, Prim was perfect to go back in time. 

They were rushing out of the house. Katniss started her beat up Camry and began to make her way down the mountain. The mountains of Panem’s District Twelve were a beautiful blue grey. A lot of the residents lived in the high hills because they were cooler than the valley below. It was private and no one got a house in the hills unless it was passed down by family inheritance or in her case, a rental by a friend of the family. The school was a good half-hour away from the entrance of the steep hill, but as they drove, the car began to shake as they made their way down a steep incline. 

Her palms were sweaty as she frantically pressed on the brakes as they made their way down to a small plateau. She pulled the heaving, trembling Camry to the side of the road.

“No, no, no,” she uttered as it began to smoke. Katniss sighed and hoped that it wasn’t something costly. “I’m going to take a look.”  She popped the hood. Getting out, she went to the hood and released the latch. She jumped back as a waft of billowy hot plume of smoke wafted from the engine. 

“Dagnabit,” Katniss muttered.

“Is it fixable?” Prim asked out of the window.

She grimaced before she looked toward where her sister sat in the car, at this rate Prim was never getting to school. Her knowledge on cars was limited. She knew how to change the oil, change a tire, and do the necessary upkeep for a car. However, it was the more complicated stuff like identifying which of the hoses that broke causing her car to overheat, was out of her scope. That would mean she’d have to deal with Gale, a mechanic by trade.

Gale was obsessive about her, something that Katniss hated. They were once friends until Gale stopped looking at her as a friend, but something to be possessed. He didn’t acknowledge they were too alike, in temperament and personalities. To Katniss it didn’t matter Greasy Sae said Gale was sex on a stick, she just didn’t like him like that.

Her appetite for men ran in a different direction. Sighing, she gave the car a bewildered look. The odds were not on her side. 

“Katniss, I'm going to miss school,” Prim said desperately from the window of the passenger seat.

Katniss felt bad. These were the times she felt guilty for not being a better sister / guardian to her sister. Prim was a good kid and deserved better. Looking down at her watch, time was running out.  Squaring her shoulders Katniss vowed she was going to get her sister to school. “Come on,” Katniss said, reaching down and grabbing Prim’s knapsack. “We’ll be late, but we can walk to school.”

“We can call Pete,” Prim said quietly.

Katniss couldn’t help the flush that crept up to her cheeks at the mention of their new hunky neighbor. Those darned butterflies began whizzing around her stomach. Katniss wanted to hush them or at least put them on a leash whenever Pete was around. 

Pete lived on the mountain with them. He was quiet, and he and her sister got along like chicken wings and buffalo sauce. Pete was the different her appetite was hungry for. Her mind replayed the soul stirring kiss they shared. They said a kiss was a window into a person’s heart, and if that kiss was an indication of what was in Peeta’s heart it was a three alarm fire that burned for her.

However, the kiss was something she wasn’t going to share with her twelve-year-old sister. Hell, that wasn’t something she wanted to even think about. “Prim.”

“Katniss,” her sister’s eyes glittered with mischief. The little imp knew what she was doing.

“I don’t need a man to come rescue us. We can walk to the school.”

“I know we don’t need a man, but we’re not even halfway down the mountain and I’m more than half-an-hour away from school. Pete is about two minutes away.”

Her sister’s logic was infallible, and Katniss knew it, but loathed to admit. “Fine, call Pete.”

-INCOGNITO 

Peeta drove exactly three minutes from his home to see the old dark Camry with the hazard lights on. His gut clenched when he saw the petite fiery woman with the olive skin tone, eyes the color of a raging storm, and cute pert nose. They were seeing each other, not in an official I’m dating you way, but definitely in the, there was something going on between them.

Peeta was used to women fawning all over him. Not Katniss, and he’d fallen for her harder than a sledgehammer hitting concrete. They’d kissed last night. Not a gentle peck on the lips, but the type of kiss that proved the earth was round, because your world shifted on its access. One moment you were standing on the floor and the next you were standing on the ceiling.

He’d been a star since the age of six months. A casting agent walked into his parents’ failing bakery and spotted him sitting in a high chair. The agent convinced his father to put him up for one of those national baby advertisements. Yet none of the accolades he received compared to winning a small smile from the woman standing on the side of the road.

“Hi,” Katniss said pushing her long rope of braided raven hair over her shoulder.   

“Hi,” Peeta said, climbing out of his truck. 

“Hi Pete,” Prim greeted, her eyes alight with joy.

“Hey, little duck.” Katniss' sister Primrose was as infectious as sunshine after a rainy day. She was the one person Peeta was sure Katniss would put her life down for. He had never seen that type of devotion and love before. In the industry he was in there wasn’t much room for any sort of relationship. Everything was colored by money.

His own mother was the poster girl for how money corrupts absolutely. When that casting agent walked into the family’s failing bakery his mother doubted he would get casted; she often said he was an ugly baby. His mother was wrong. Peeta won the contest. His round little face with his priceless blue eyes was soon appearing on every jar, can, and package of that brand of baby product. His mother got bit by the show biz bug, or rather the money that he made from it. She became his manager, and without anyone’s knowledge, took money from Peeta. As he became older and less easy to control his mother became abusive.

Peeta longed for a normal semblance of life. Despite not having two pennies to rub together, Katniss was raising Prim on her own and she was doing it all right. Not once did he hear Katniss lose her temper with her baby sister.

“Hi,” Katniss waved back, her face a deep shade of purple. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her pink diner waitress uniform Greasy Sae made Katniss wear. Her white sneakers shuffled back and forth.

Peeta got out and slipped his sunglasses off. He opened the cab door and held it for Prim and Katniss.

Katniss rolled her eyes at him.

They had this discussion before, about how he didn’t have to hold the door open for her. Peeta knew Katniss was more than capable of opening her own doors, but he was a romantic. He believed in Arthur and the Round Table and a knight’s code. His friend Finnick often told him he was born in the wrong era. He stood up when a lady walked into a room, held doors open, and walked little old ladies across the street.

“Seat belt,” Katniss reminded Prim who already had her earbuds in.

“K,” Prim replied.

“Oh, your lunch,” Katniss said, taking out a brown paper bag littered with glittery stickers from her brown leather messenger bag.

“Katniss, pink panda bears?” Prim huffed.

“I thought you liked them?”

“I do, but these stickers scream six-year-old kid.”

“Okay next time I’ll do a plain brown bag.” Katniss put on her seat belt.

Peeta caught the way Prim’s fingers went over the stickers with awe and reverence. Once more he couldn’t help loving the way the sisters were a unit.

For the whole of his life Peeta longed to be accepted and loved by his family. His older brothers were self-involved and didn’t give a flying fig newton about him; he was just their meal ticket. His mother was abusive and money hungry. His father was a simple man who couldn’t stand up to his wife.

His dad failed to protect Peeta.  

The lesson he learned growing up was that no one needed him. They needed his bank. That last stunt was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Peeta needed a way out and he found a way. His friend, mega star, Finnick Odair helped him get it. Starting over was worth breaking a few rules. He made a few withdrawals, put it in a new bank account and when the time was right, he left.

The trek to the small country of Panem that sat between the Canadian border and the United States border took less than 19 hours including a 90-minute ferry. Panem was a small island, with little islands scattered around it. District twelve was the smallest of the islands and had the smallest community. He chose this small island because it was so far removed from everything that reminded him of Hollywood.

He could have continued travelling but stopped when he met Prim and subsequently her older sister, Katniss. Peeta stayed far longer than what he wanted to because he was fascinated by Katniss.

Once they were on the road, Katniss kept on sneaking looks at him. It was when he caught her gaze going down to his mouth that he knew he was in danger, by the way he stiffened in his jeans. He looked back at Primrose in the seat and the pressing problem in his jeans shriveled.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Katniss said, clearing her throat. She picked up her phone and called the school and her husky voice on the phone made him uncomfortable once more.

Peeta told himself to keep himself in check. Peeta wasn’t a lady’s man, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. However, he was the type who liked to be in a relationship. In his opinion, the best sex was had when he was emotionally connected with someone. When it was used just to blow off steam or to scratch an itch, he found it empty and meaningless, so he stayed clear of women who only promised that sort interaction.  By Hollywood standards, he was a virgin. Compared to him, Katniss was a unicorn.

He respected her and if she knew his thoughts she’d no doubt shoot him through the eye with her bow. To be fair, he was terrified of Katniss, especially when she was in what he called the ‘Hunter Mode.’ Her scowl combined with her glittering silver eyes promised pain and certain death to whomever was in her crossfire.

There were two things he learned not to mess with, one her sister Primrose, and the other was her personal business. Katniss was an extremely private person. Peeta sighed as they sped toward Prim’s school.

“Prim,” Katniss said. “I let the school know we’re on our way.”

“What about Greasy Sae?” Peeta asked.

“Greasy was the first person I called while Prim called you.”

They approached the school and there were a few stragglers, parents rushing to get their kids into the school building. Katniss jumped out of the car.

“Katniss, I'm not a baby. I can make it into school by myself,” Prim whined.

“Prim I have to sign you in, and that will continue straight up through high school.” Katniss' matter of fact tone of voice let Prim know this wasn’t the time for a pre-teen hissy fit.

“Fine,” Prim said quietly.

Peeta grinned. “I’ll wait here while you get her sorted.” 

Katniss nodded, a look flitted through her eyes. She had been avoiding him, and in a way he had been avoiding her as well. He knew the kiss was a dangerous thing and with everyday he stayed put, there was a chance he could be discovered.

He pulled his hat lower and slipped on his sunglasses. Even though he’d let his natural blond hair grow out, there was a chance people would recognize him, his eyes were legendary. The only thing he was grateful for was that his mother despised his blond locks. 

To the public at large, he had brown hair. For the majority of his career Peeta dyed his hair and eyebrows. He purposefully didn’t take movies where he had to be a blond. After his parents’ stunt, he had begun to let it grow out. Cinna, his stylist, helped him wear a wig whenever he needed to make a public appearance. 

It was easy to slip on some glasses and walk out of the hotel. About halfway through the interviews Peeta had his double sneak in, so that he could escape. No one could make out the difference, well no one but Haymitch. 

Peeta felt guilty for duping his manager and mentor. The wrap on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. Katniss stood on the other side, her eyes were staring at his hands. He didn’t realize the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel. He felt the blush creeping up the side of his neck. Leaning over he quickly jumped out and opened the truck door for her.

“Pete,” Katniss mumbled under her breath.

“You’ve got your quirks, and this is one of mine.” He could see the beginning of a small smile on Katniss face and that right there was the reason he kept on coming back to see her. When she smiled it was better than Christmas, better than fresh baked cookies, and better than a greasy bacon double cheeseburger after a night out knocking back beers with Finnick.

He got into the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

“Look,” Katniss grimaced.

Peeta sucked in a breath. Here it came, the excuses passed off as rationalizations. Peeta dreaded the speeches that ranged from it was a mistake, we should forget that it happened, and his least favorite, it’s not you it’s me, I’m sorry I’m just not that into you.

“I don’t do that,” Katniss said. Her eyes were focused on her hands. 

Peeta sat back waiting patiently for Katniss to continue.

Her cheeks were tinged with a warm red color.  She wrinkled her nose and bit her bottom lip, all signs of her nervousness. Peeta found it endearing. 

“I don’t go around.” Her leg began shaking now. “...kissing, I don’t go around kissing...”

“I know.” He put his hand next to hers, but didn’t touch her. Yet, the nearness of their hands caused butterflies to make an appearance in his stomach. The connection between the two of them was electric. He hoped she felt the same way.  He saw her look turn from trepidatious to one of suspicion. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is you take care of your sister. She’s your whole life. You don’t have time for romantic entanglements.” 

Her eyes opened.    

“You have to worry about putting food on the table, a roof over your heads, plus everything that comes with raising a tween.” They came to a stop at a stoplight.

She blinked.

Peeta opened his mouth and shut it. He sighed and nodded; her actions proved refutably, his words were wrong. He didn’t hear her moving  across the cabin, or the way her hands braced his face before she kissed him.

Peeta’s heart exploded like a redstone rocket leaving the mission pad into the atmosphere. Her lips were warm and supple, and they tasted of ginger and mint. His hands gently cupped hers. 

Katniss pulled away. Her lips plump, her eyes were a dark stormy gray, from their kiss. She smiled at him shyly. “Thank you.”

“I think I should be thanking you.” The light turned green and he began driving. He couldn't hide the ear to ear grin.

Katniss raised an eyebrow and gave him a chaste kiss. “I like you Pete Golightly.”

Hearing his fake name sat like sour milk in his stomach. Peeta wanted to come clean to Katniss but didn’t know how. Katniss wasn’t anyone who trusted people easily, and she let him get close. He felt guilty for not being honest with her. But he held onto the idea that he was going to be leaving soon. He also told himself that the less people knew about his secret the easier it was for him to be able stay incognito.  

He gently let go of her hands and he missed her touch when she pulled away.  “I like you too, Katniss Everdeen.” 

“You want to come overnight,” Katniss asked.

“As long as you let me make you and Prim dinner.” 

She looked indecisive.

“Look, you’re going to be late picking up Prim tonight, and when you get to the apartment you’re going to focus on Prim and her homework while making dinner. Since today is Wednesday you do the laundry.” 

Wednesday is the most dratted day...it runs a close second to Sunday night. Katniss hated laundry. She hated the separating, the folding, the waiting well just about everything except for the smell of the fabric softener. She said it reminded her of a spring meadow on a warm day.

“Okay,” she said. Laughter bubbling up from her lips. “How do you know me so well?” 

Peeta winked slowly. “I always take notice when you’re in the room Katniss.” He enjoyed the blush that blossomed on her cheeks.

-THE CHASE

Less than two days later Claudius unfolded himself from his car. He pulled into the gas station near the border of Canada and Panem to fill up his tank. 

A young family got out of the rest stop right next to him. The girls got out and  were talking about Peeta. There was a billboard of the movie hanging right in front of them. Claudius followed them inside, he went to join the line, he had cash to pay for the gasoline. The girls queued up behind him.

“He’s so cute,” the young girl said, pointing to the tabloid with the picture of Peeta Mellark. The headline read he was taken by aliens. 

Claudius glanced behind him, and estimated the girl must have been sixteen.

The other one who looked to be fourteen said, “He’s so yummy. Too bad mommy wont let us see his movie.”

“I know,” the sixteen year-old grumbled.

“Do you think his parents had something to do with his disappearance?”

“I don’t know,” the older sister said. 

Claudius reached the front of the line and paid forty for gas. He walked outside into the sunlight. It had been a long ride from the junket to this small town. He had to stop halfway there and rent a hotel room for the night. After a complimentary stale pastry and tepid tea for breakfast, he was back out on the road. He was finally just outside the small town.

He walked toward his car and began to pump gas.  The girls came out of the small convenience store and sat down in the small shaded picnic area next to the gas stop.

A young boy about their age walked by them and they were giggling and laughing. 

“Girls,” their mother called out. “We’re leaving.”

“Okay mom,” the girls yelled out in unison. As they stood up from the shaded area. They looked up at the billboard. And continued to speak about Peeta Mellrak. 

Claudius smirked at the girl's conversation. The actions of the young star were a mystery to Claudius and to the entire world. 

Why leave all of the money and power behind, Claudius wondered? That question is what drew him to the story, he’d discovered. The kid was clean, didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink, he wasn’t broke.  The kid had millions in the bank. 

In his last movie, Peeta, was involved in the producing, directing, and script writing. The success of the movie had everyone clamorning to work with him. The kid was on the cusp, he had the ability to make more money and have the kind of power to make his own movies. They billed him as the next Ron Howard. Why would the kid throw all of that way? No one was that crazy. Claudius knew of one person who left it all behind at the height of their career, Dolores Hart. Dolores starred opposite Elvis Presley, and some of Hollywood's top male actors of the time. She left Hollywood to become a nun.

Claudius wondered if Mrs. Mellark had anything to do with Peeta Mellark’s Agatha Christie stunt. The Mellarks were a mess. The kind that were a paparazzi present wrapped up tightly with bright ribbon under the Christmas tree. His older brothers were sleeze balls. His oldest brother was in hot water for making several statements that were deeply offensive to a number of people. The middle Mellark was a mainstay in Vegas. He was a gambler and rumored to have connections with the mafia. He was seen with the daughter of notorious mobster Seneca Crane. 

His mother, she was a joy, a really Betty Croker, complete with shark teeth. The woman sold her son’s privacy for 100 grand. The reporters entered his house and took detailed pictures of his home. The best was his color coordinated underwear draw. Everyone knew he was a boxer brief guy. His father was a patsy, with the personality of a limp wet towel. 

Claudius wondered if they were the reason he left Hollywood? But then again, Peeta had nothing to do with his family. They lived separate lives. Peeta didn’t even have pictures of his family in his house. Only gorgeous paintings that were discovered to have been painted by Peeta himself. If his family was the reason, it didn’t matter to Claudius. He wanted to be the first to find Peeta Mellark.

It’s why he was in the border town looking for Judy’s friend Morph.  

-NIGHT IN

Katniss watched Peeta with her sister. Her heart raced a thousand miles an hour, a common occurrence whenever he was around. He was washing the dishes with her sister as she folded laundry. 

Prim introduced them, and Katniss hadn’t wanted to be his friend. She didn’t want to be with anyone. She had to raise Prim. Her sister took the priority in her life and few people understood the pressure that came with being so young and raising a child. She was still only twenty, and they were visited by a fastidious case worker Effie Trinket whose sharp eyes never missed a thing. If there was speck of dust on a lampshade Miss Trinket would spot it.

It’s why she stayed away from men. They complicated her simple drive to protect and provide for her sister. Pete however never imposed his person on hers. He never demanded that she pay attention to him. Instead he slowly and politely became her friend. She hadn’t wanted to face him after the kiss, but after fate brought them together, and she spoke to him in the car she couldn’t help but kiss him again. 

That second kiss caused Katniss to realize maybe she was ready for more with Pete. He was kind, gentle, intelligent, witty, funny, and sexy. The last word caused her to blush, because she chose that moment to stare at him. As if sensing her stare, he looked up and his eyes darkened. His gaze dropped down to her lips before they moved up once again. 

He was thinking of their kiss and Katniss squirmed in her seat. 

Prim said something funny and he laughed. 

“That’s just as bad as Gale making a pass at my sister.” 

“No way?” Pete said gazing at Katniss.

He was curious about Gale. Katniss told him she didn’t have any romantic feelings about Gale. 

“Way,” Prim said. “Gale thinks Katniss should date him because he’s so,” she said holding up her fingers in the air to make quotations. “...great.”

Pete didn’t say anything. 

“They were friends and then my parents died. Gale expected my sister to fall at his feet. He kept on coming to the house to try to help, to make it known Katniss was his girl.” Prim’s face soured like that time she drank bad milk. 

They never spoke about that time after their parents died. Katniss preferred to move forward.

 “After the funeral he tried to make his move.”

“After the funeral, you mean the day you were…”

Katniss stopped folding the clothing. She had no idea Prim had overheard. She thought her sister was in their old home.

“Can you believe it!” Prim shook her head. “I was in the tree house hiding. I saw him grab my sister by the shoulder and try to kiss her, but Katniss pushed him away. She told him she wouldn’t have time for him, because she needed to petition the courts for me. Gale told her that raising me was a mistake. My sister kicked him in the nuts.”

“Did she?” Pete asked, his eyebrow quirked. Katniss could see his admiration, not for kicking Gale in the nuts as Prim said, but for sticking to her guns to take care of her sister.

Prim giggled, “He never saw it coming.” 

“So how did you guys end up living in their garage?”

“Katniss had to sell our house to pay for the bills and for the lawyers and court fees.”

Katniss stood up and sighed. “Gale’s mother is the real estate agent that helped me sell our house. She offered the garage as a way for her to make extra money after her divorce from Gale’s dad.” Katniss shrugged,  “She needed the extra income, and I needed a place to live. It was a mutual agreement.” 

"Katniss worked really hard to make the garage homey."

Katniss watched Pete look around the apartment as if he’d never really taken a good look. His focus was always on Prim or herself. To be fair he wasn’t someone who took notice of the disparity they lived in. Gale constantly offered to fix things for her, including her person. It was like that perfect backhanded compliment. You look nice in a dress, you should wear one more often, or the one that always made her see red. Your face is pretty when you smile and wear makeup. 

Katniss wanted to hurt Gale every single time he said something stupid and asinine. 

Gale’s harsh words didn’t extend only to her person, they also extended to the apartment. Gale made her feel insecure about her flea bargain finds, dollar store buys, and hand-me-down furniture. He thought the colors dull, and her paint job was poor, but never offered to help paint. 

Katniss could see all of the gaff’s she made painting. Katniss decorated their small home with calm earth tones, wanting it to convey peacefulness, warmth and be inviting. When they moved here Prim was ten and Katniss wanted to make sure her sister felt like everything was going to be alright. 

The studio was small with a loft. Katniss gave her sister the loft so that she could have privacy. Prim was growing up and Katniss understood the need for space. Katniss went through those awkward years with their parents, their door was always open. It’s why she made a bedroom for herself in the nook below the loft.  Katniss used shutters for a wall near the entrance and creatively used a tension rod between two bookshelves to make an entry to her makeshift bedroom.

Yet in Pete’s warm blue eyes she saw what could be considered admiration. 

“You are amazing,” Pete said simply.

Katniss could feel the onslaught of warmth that rushed from her heart to her cheeks, because unlike Gale’s thinly veiled insults which hailed from a vain superficial perspective. Gale could only see beyond his own needs whereas Pete's hailed from deep within. 

“Yes she is and she needs someone just as amazing,” Prim piped up, and Katniss was mortified. What came out of Prim’s mouth next however made Katniss want to bury her head in the sand. “Someone like you, Pete!”

Katniss thought she wanted to strangle her sister, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She glanced up and found herself staring at Pete’s lips. She wanted to be alone with him and kiss him once more but she couldn’t do anything in front of her sister. 

“Prim I think you sister is more than capable of making her own decisions about who she wants to date.” 

Pete’s words were commendable, and given the way his blue eyes looked darker and the fact that his eyes were gazing at her lip was a clear indication that Pete was thinking of the same thing, that kiss. 

“You two are perfect for each other.” Prim’s gaze switched between Katniss and Peeta’s. “I am going up to my loft, put my noise cancelling headphones on and listen to my favorite K-Pop band really loudly in case you two want to kiss,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows with all of the mischievous and impish power she held. 

“PRIM!!” Katniss gasped.

Prim’s peal of laughter exploded in the apartment as she ran up her loft ladder. 

If Pete hadn’t been standing next to her she would have chased her sister.  She turned slightly to Pete who stood with his hands in his pockets. 

“I,” Katniss uttered, unsure what to say.  The mood was ruined by her impish sister.

“Katniss, we can just hang out,” Pete suggested. “Maybe watch a movie? Or even fold laundry.”

Katniss wanted  to roll her eyes at his suggestion to fold laundry.

“You doubt my folding abilities? I will have you know I know the secret of folding a fitted sheet, it’s a family secret but I may have to kill you unless you’re willing to die for it," Pete said wiggling his eyebrows.

"You know I am an excellent archer." Katniss narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

His instant grin and mischievous glint in his blue eyes caused a small fire to begin in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t explain the butterflies that sprung in her stomach whenever she was near him. Or the way she couldn’t stop staring at his nearly translucent eyelashes. She swallowed thickly as she stared at his lips and recalled how sweet he tasted, and the insane need, no scratch that, desire to walk up to him and kiss him. 

“Oh hell,” Katniss breathed before she walked up to Pete and kissed him hard. Her hands reached up to cup his face while standing on tiptoe. She groaned the moment his arms wound around her, bringing her closer to him. Warmth spread from the deepest part of her chest and spread throughout her body. 

The kiss wasn’t forceful, but man did it do things to her insides. Katniss disengaged and took him by the hand, dragging him to her makeshift bedroom. 

“Katniss,” Pete raggedly uttered her name.

Katniss wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was correct. She didn’t have much, okay, in reality she knew zilch, zero, a big old donut hole about intimacy. The laws of attraction didn’t lend themselves to her until the day Pete Golightly came into her life.

She sat on the bed and scooted backward, trying to convey silently for Pete to come to her. Katniss wasn’t sure where this coquettish side to her came from. But Pete did things to her that made her want everything.

Her eyes scanned him as he stood by the foot of the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. If this were Gale he would have been the aggressor and that would have been like being thrown into a frozen lake in the middle of winter.  It’s not that Pete couldn’t be aggressive, he was massive.  His hands were warm and large, he was broad shouldered, strong, and taller than she was. Pete could probably bench press her caveman style, but he was sweet and polite, and  that drove Katniss wild.

She sat up on the bed and crooked her finger at him. 

Swiftly Peeta moved, coming to lay on top of her. She felt the moment he melted into her and she reveled in the power. They both gasped and moaned at the sensation of their bodies being pressed into one another. 

Katniss tilted her head slightly to kiss him and little currents of pleasure flowed from her mouth to her belly and  further south. Her hands grasped his face so that she could do something she’d heard about, kissing with tongue. It should have felt weird to have her tongue in his mouth. She instinctively sought entrance to his mouth and Pete gasped then angled his head and slowly opened his mouth for her. Her toes curled the moment his tongue greeted hers. Kissing was phenomenal, her new found favorite sport. Yes, it trumped archery. 

Her hands released his face and began to roam as they kissed. Katniss had a sneaky suspicion that Pete was some sort of athlete because his chest was firm. Her hand snaked under his shirt and she felt the ridges of his abdomen. Pete moaned and pulled away, his blue eyes wide. He looked dazed, a flush spread up to his cheeks.

She wasn't the type of girl who noticed that a guy was hot. Not that she was blind. Even though she didn’t like Gale. Katniss could admit to herself Gale wasn't an ogre. He was actually good-looking in that tall, dark and too handsome for his own good sort of way. She was just not attracted to him. She was one hundred percent attracted to Pete. And at this moment, all the naughty things she never thought of, never thought she would ever want to do, and had no time for, were rushing through her mind like one of those poorly written super trashy novella's Delly was so fond of reading. 

Katniss wanted the shirt to come off, she wanted for it all to come off, she wanted him naked. The word naked should have terrorized her, but in actuality it didn’t. She sat up and tugged up on his shirt. Pete pushed her hands down.

“Katniss we can’t.” Pete sounded like he had run up the steep hill carrying one of those 100lb crates of potatoes Greasy Sae had delivered to the restaurant. He sat back on his haunches. His eyes traveled over her and he shook his head. Katniss sorley wished she knew how to seduce. 

"Katniss," he said before he grimaced.

She frowned. 

“Your sister,” Pete said pointing up at the loft above. 

She’d forgotten about her impressionable baby sister. “Dagnabit!”

Pete smiled gently.

“I hate adulting.” 

“We all have to be adults.” 

She fell backwards onto her pillow, frustrated. Selfishly she did not want to stop. Realistically Pete was correct. Prim was a scant few feet away. She couldn't act like a typical 20-year-old. She had to be smarter, which is why she tucked all of those awakened me-want-sexy-time thoughts into a corner of her brain. A place where boring things resided, like matching clean socks, cleaning the oven, or pumping gas.

"Talk to me." Pete laid down next to her, not touching her, but just looking at her. It was comfortable, it was nice and yet those butterflies were acting like they were banging spoons and pots in her stomach. 

Talking was not her thing. As her court appointed family psychologist said, she was introverted, thoughtful and not someone who could eloquently speak unless pressured. This was partly because talking could lead to trouble. Katniss always reminded herself that until her sister turned eighteen, she had to be careful.

“You’re right,” Katniss sighed. “I can’t get carried away.”

“Believe me, it’s not easy walking away, but I get that you’re not ready for some things.” 

“You do something to me,” Katniss blurted. “There are these butterflies I get in my stomach whenever you’re around.”  She then realized how childish that sounded, she was twenty and not a thirteen year old girl.

He laughed. 

Yep Katniss thought, Pete thought her crazy.

“I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I am around you too.” 

“You do?” she was surprised.

“I do. You’re the sweetest most beautiful, bravest woman I have ever met. You are amazing.”

“I don’t know how to take that?” She was awestruck. She didn’t consider herself any of those things. Especially beautiful. She was not beautiful.

“Slowly like breathing. Let the words penetrate your heart slowly.”

Katniss nodded. “I just, I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t have the least idea about what or how I am supposed to act.”

“To be honest there isn’t one way to act; you just be yourself. If you’re not comfortable with something you tell me no or stop. Just like I pulled away and you respected my decision to pull away. I know this sounds like a cheesy movie line, but I like you, Katniss, I like you a lot. You are, and I keep saying this word, amazing, because I’m in awe of you.”

Words shouldn’t be that powerful but the way Pete wielded them caused her to want to rip his shirt and pans off and do stuff. What stuff she wasn’t sure, but stuff that people did in bed. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered what happened to the girl who a few weeks ago was grossed out at seeing two people make out in public. 

 He smiled and his blue eyes glowed. “I think you did a great job decorating too.”

“Now I know you’re crazy.”

“Given what you had to work with, you did amazing. Besides I’ve seen Prim’s loft…” Peeta grinned, the loft was a riot of baby blue, pinks, and purples. “Believe me you did a great job, even with your sister's space. Just enough chaos but enough organization to help a budding genius.”

“Oh no, she’s got you watching Pinky and the Brain?”

“Zoik!”

“Ugh,” Katniss said.

“What? I’m not a Brain, I’m more of a Pinky. Prim is the Brain.”

“Sometimes I am afraid about how smart Prim really is.” Katniss sighed. “Do you know she knew her periodic table before she turned three? She can spout all of the weights of the elements and is in advanced calculus and physics in school. I’ve asked her if she wanted to move on, you know, to a higher grade, but she said no because she wanted to grow up normal.” Katniss sighed. “She’s had so much disruption in her life. I just want her to have as typical a childhood as possible.”

Pete leaned in and kissed her soundly. Katniss sighed. 

He leaned away. “I would like to take you out on a date.”

“When?” She scooted closer to him.

“What about Friday?” He scooted closer to her.

“S’okay.”  She moved closer, so close she could see the pale specks in his blue eyes.

“Cool.” He gently enfolded her in his arms. 

She’d never been held before, and it was better than ice cream on a warm July evening.

-THE SCENT

It took Claudius the entire day to track down Morph. Even with a stupid name, no one in this forsaken side of town knew the scrawny strung out kid. He went to every single gas station and no one could identify him. 

Claudius was frustrated. Viciously glad the only thing he wasted was chump change. He was going to pack it up when he came upon a run down gas station near the border. It was a sad place. The kind of place people were murdered or bodies appeared. With a broken lamp and one gasoline pump because the other one had a white paper taped to it with the words ‘out of service’ hastily scribbled on it.

Claudius went inside and was struck dumbfounded when there sitting behind a laminated counter sat Morph.

“Morph,” Claudius said.

“Yeah.”

“Judy sent me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Morph nodded. His eyes looked unfocused and even in the dim light of the interior his irises were fully dilated.

Crap, Claudius thought, the idiot is high.

“Judy,” Morph said grinning.

“Do you remember why Judy sent me here?” Claudius wondered if this was going to be another dead end.

“Yeah.”

“And.” 

“Oh.” Morph waited a moment. “Yeah.”

Claudius would rather get shot during a root canal.  “Look kid, have you seen him,” Claudius took the tabloid from off the wrack and pointed to Peeta.

Morph blinked. “He was here, he paid for gas, cash.”

“He did?” 

Morph held out his phone screen to Claudius. The thrill of the chase running through his veins. He showed him the picture of Peeta’s side profile. He was wearing the same baseball cap and sunglasses he wore in Judy’s picture. Morph then pulled his phone back and stared blankly.

“Can you tell me what direction he took?”

Morph turned his head. “Yeah.”

“Well.”

“He headed toward Panem.” 

“Panem?” Claudius was struck. “Are you sure he didn’t head toward Canada?”

Morph took out his phone and swiped. 

There on the screen was a picture of Peeta’s car with the license plate heading toward the Panem border. Claudius took the idiots phone and sent himself the pictures. He slapped a 20 on the laminate counter. 

Claudius pumped his gas but mentally he chanted, “Gotcha.”

 -CONSPIRATORS

“Good morning,” Prim said from over her bowl of cornflakes.

Pete grinned. The time on the microwave read 5AM. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Morning Prim.”  He and Katniss fell asleep in her room. He hadn’t woken up until this moment. Katniss was still sleeping. 

“So you and my sister,” Prim wiggled her eyebrows.

“Prim.” 

She grinned then made little kissy faces.  

“First, you are too young to think that way. Secondly, I respect your sister far too much…well, to push her into something she is not ready for.”  

“Please, there’s no need for an explanation. I know you guys didn’t do anything. I came downstairs around eleven and both of you were snoring. You, by the way, drooled on her pillow.”

Peeta rubbed his face. He had a sinking suspicion Prim was going to hold this over him. 

Prim smiled but as she continued slurping her milk.  

“Your sister,” Peeta said, sighing. “I really…I...like her alot, more than a lot actually.”

“Listen Peeta,” Prim said. “You make my sister happy and she makes you happy.”

“Prim,” Peeta hushed Prim. “You can’t use my real name.”

Prim rolled her eyes. 

She was the only one who had figured out who he was within seconds of meeting him. She waited until they were alone and then she began to grill him like a well done steak. He had been going to Sae’s diner for one of her infamous soups, but he also liked to watch Katniss. She was graceful. The way she walked around people without making sound or spilling drinks or bowls. He had been trying to gather the courage to speak to her. 

One day Prim showed up and his entire ruse was over. 

Katniss wasn’t the only Everdeen to be protective. Prim was like a mama bear around Katniss.  Her attitude toward her older caused Peeta to have a deep appreciation for Katniss. That she sacrificed so much for her sister was humbling. Peeta wished he could use all of his money and connections to help out the sisters. 

However as he got to know both of them, he knew neither sister would take money from him. These two were fighters, they were a team. When Prim figured out he wasn’t playing with her sister’s heart, she was a mini bulldozer pushing them together. Prim was, as Katniss stated, frighteningly intelligent.  

“You mean Peeta?” Prim said it louder.

“Prim, keep it down.” 

“My sister sleeps like the dead. And you owe me cheese buns.”

Peeta sighed. He’d forgotten the bet, which Prim won. Last night they did end up making out. He couldn’t help the buzzing in his body at the memory of the way Katniss silver eyes turned like liquid mercury when she was aroused. “Okay, we’ll have to go over to my place.”

“Why?” Katniss walked into the kitchen, her hair askew. Her sleepy face was adorable. 

Peeta walked to her and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Good morning. I’m making cheese buns.”

“Why?” Katniss yawned.

“Because, you should never make a bet against an Everdeen.” Prim winked. “I’m going to grab my clothing and stuff. I’ll pack something for Katniss too.”

Katniss frowned, watching her sister walk toward the loft. 

Peeta couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face and properly kissed Katniss. She hummed, groaned and moaned all at once. 

She gazed up at him with awe and with the embers of desire. “I lost a bet to Primrose, and now I owe her cheese bun.”

“She shouldn’t be doing that, but your buns are well worth it.”

“You like my buns?” Peeta hoped she meant something else entirely.

Katniss slipped her hand around to his butt and squeezed him briefly before sassily winking at him. “Yup I just love your buns.” 

Peeta laughed. And kissed her swiftly, feeling like he had come home.

-THE OUTRAGE

Gale wanted to rip the backyard tree from it’s trunk when he woke up to see Pete coming out of the apartment early this morning.  They were laughing and holding hands. 

Hi misery could only be accompanied by the rage he felt. 

Katniss was supposed to his girl. 

Gale closed his eyes momentarily as pain shot through him. He opened them to see the lovers wrapped up in each other. What hurt the most was that, this wasn’t sex, they weren’t fucking for fun. The way they held one another as they kissed, denoted tenderness, deep care, gentleness, and soft yielding toward the other. 

Gale tore his eyes away. He loathed Pete Golightly for taking the one girl he thought belonged to him. The one girl he wanted. 

Katniss might never be his, but he was never going to accept them as a couple. 

-THE HUNT

Peeta Mellark was smart, but Claudius was smarter. With the plates he was able to trace the car.  Peeta had turned his car into this obscure car rental in Panem’s Capitol. While he couldn’t confirm that Peeta rented a car, he showed the girl the picture from Morph’s phone. It was imperative he got that first picture of Peeta Mellark. It was now worth nearly 300 Grand. And Claudius wanted to sit on a throne made of money.

“Yeah, I’m trying to trace down my nephew. My brother had a heart attack and my nephew he’s on one of those retreats you go wireless.”

The perky blonde’s eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, are you alright?”

Bingo! Claudius said to himself. People were inherently good, well unless you were a bastard like him, but in reality they wanted to be helpful and that’s where he, the bastard, preyed upon them. “I am okay, my brother,” he added enough emphasis on the word brother to allude that he was mortally grave. “I just hope to find my nephew before…” He trailed off.

“Oh, I can’t give you information, because it’s private.”

Claudius grinned, “Yeah, of course,” he said pumping something close to sincerity in voice. “Could you tell me if someone has seen him if I describe my nephew to you?”

“Sure I can totally do that.” 

“Great, you have no idea how much this means to me.” 

-THE CONFRONTATION

Gale walked into Greasy Sae’s. He found Katniss briskly walking between tables, serving coffee.

He sat in her section, at the counter and waited patiently as the crowd thinned and she came behind the counter.

“Gale,” Katniss said, her lips were thinned into a tight smile. “What can I get for you today?”

“Coffee,” Gale’s eyes slid down her form. He recalled what she looked like in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She had a slight build, small breast and a small ass too. He thought before that outfit she had a boy's body, but he was wrong.  That was the summer before her parents died. “And you.”

Katniss plopped the coffee saucer on the table and then said, “I’m not on the menu.”

“Well you’re sure on Golightly’s menu.”

Her eyes widened before she narrowed them. “That’s none of your damned business.”

“What? That you’ve been whoring yourself to him?”  He reached out and snagged her wrist.

“Let go of me.” she tugged.

He tightened his grip, now that he had her, Gale couldn’t let go. He was fascinated by the silvery color of her eyes, the way her pert nose wrinkled. Once again, he thought she wasn’t beautiful, hell, she wasn’t even pretty, but there was this pull about her. One he could not let go, even though she was with that man.

“You’re hurting me,” Katniss whispered struggling.

“Gale Hawthorne,” Delly Cartwright said, slapping him upside the head.

Gale blinked and released his hold on Katniss. He frowned looking at the fat cow Cartwright.

“You let her go or I will call my cousin to arrest you for manhandling.” Delly’s voice was high and squeaky.

He realized everyone was looking at him. Embarrassed he pushed back his hat and said, “I don’t want anything from the likes of her.”

Katniss held her wrist protectively. Her eyes were a glittery silver. Her scowl was in place and he knew that if she had her bow she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

“You okay?” Delly asked Katniss.

Gale scoffed looking at Katniss's wrist. “She’s not even bruised.”

“Get,” Delly said.

Gale saw that a few of the other residents stood up, their demeanor letting him know that they were backing the girls.

“I’ll be back.”

“No you won’t, I’m going to tell Greasy, and when she hears about this you’ll be banned,” Delly put her finger at the center of his chest.

Gale left, but he swore Katniss was going to pay for embarrassing him.

-THE DATE

Katniss was nervous. She looked at her wrist, glad she didn’t have a bruise after Gale manhandled her at work yesterday. She sighed and put the incident behind her. She wanted to focus on her date tonight with Peeta. Twirling to the side she fretted about the dress, was it too short, was it too revealing? She wasn’t sure about the color. 

“You’ve got to relax, Katniss.”

Katniss swung around to face her sister. “You’ve got everything?”

“Yeah,” Prim said, rolling her eyes.

“Prim,” Katniss forgot to worry about her date with the worry about her baby sister.

“Katniss,” Prim grabbed her cheeks between her hands. “I AM GOING TO BE FINE!”

Katniss frowned. It was a night of firsts. She was going on a date with Pete, and her sister was going to her first slumber party with her friend Ginnee at the new girl Coral’s house. Katniss had met Coral’s parents yesterday when Prim came home with the coveted birthday party invite. Coral’s parents were from District Four and they thought a slumber party would help Coral make new friends at her new school.

Katniss thought Coral was okay, it was Ginnee, she didn’t trust. Ginnee had older sisters and brothers. She was astute and as slippery as a snake. Katniss frankly did not trust the intrepid twelve year old girl who would soon turn thirteen. “If anything even remotely happens or you feel uncomfortable you will…” Prim gave her a look that caused Katniss to amend her choice of words. “…can call me.”

“I will.”

There was a horn outside.

“Stop grimacing. It’s just Ginnee.”

“Ginnee,” Katniss muttered under her breath. “Just be careful, and have a good time.”

Prim grinned before she slipped her backpack on her back and sprinted out toward the waiting car. 

Katniss stood outside looking like the proverbial mother hen with one arm wrapped around her middle the other lifted in a half-hearted wave. She couldn’t stop her sister from growing up.

As she stood there, Pete’s car pulled up. He came out wearing a nice dark blazer, white crisp shirt, and khakis. He clutched in his hands a bouquet of wildflowers. Where and when he got them she didn’t know. All she could think about was the shy yet sizzling smile Pete sent her way. And the breath she held when Prim left wooshed out of her.

“Hi,” she croaked.

“You look great,” he gushed.

Katniss looked down at the orange wrap dress Prim demanded Katniss splurge on and buy for tonight. “Thanks. You look nice.”

He grinned at her and that was how her control snapped. She stepped up to him and kissed him wildly. She moaned when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. She was correct; kissing Pete was better than the thirty-one ice cream flavors Baskin Robbins boasted. “Oh Pete…”

Pete pulled back and sighed. “If we don’t get out of here now, I am going to carry over my shoulder and bring you inside, Katniss.”

Katniss raised an eyebrow, feeling emboldened and brazenly she said, “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

Pete groaned.

“But,” Katniss said, liking how her words affected him. She wickedly said, “I suppose if you want to spoil me for a nice meal, before I plunder you later on…”

“Do you not understand I am trying to be a gentleman?” His eyes were wide and wild.

Katniss wanted to sound coquettish, but she ended up telling him the truth in a rushed tortured tone of voice. “You’re not the only one holding on to restraint.”

Katniss watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “I am trying to think of everything that is disgusting and unappealing to make me come down back to earth and continue with dinner.”

“You are?”

“Katniss my brain short circuits any time you’re near, and when you kiss me I can’t even function. I have to literally sing the twelve days of Christmas in my head to calm down.”

“The twelve days of Christmas?” She couldn’t help the way a smile formed on her face.

“I have to keep on telling myself that you’re not ready, that this is moving way to fast-“

She didn’t let him finish. “What if I am ready to be with you?” It was impulsive and she was not sorry she said the truth.

“Are you sure?” He looked scared, almost reverent.

“I am, but if you’re not ready, then I’ll wait,” she said into his lips because he kissed her fiercely and such intensity that she was left breathless.

“Food,” he muttered when he pulled away. “Need food to keep up.”

He took her hand and tugged her along. The dinner that followed was uncomfortable in that they both wanted to go home and tear each other’s clothing off. Katniss couldn’t recall what she chose or what he ordered. The only thing she wanted wasn’t on the menu. 

When they got to her apartment the thin wall of restraint broke and they were kissing wildly.

“Slow, must go slow,” Pete said as he struggled with pulling off his shirt without unbuttoning it.

Katniss chuckled at his eagerness. A smooth operator Pete was not, but she didn’t mind. She slowed him down by putting her hand on his chest and tugging his shirt down. Quietly she undid the buttons. His breath was labored while hers was calm. She was more than turned on, her underwear were ruined, to be fair, and her nipples stood at attention in her bra. She was the inexperienced one, but at that moment, Pete was the one with jumbled nerves and that made her feel excited, yet calm.

His eyes darkened when she removed his shirt and her hands slid up his chest. Her heart was a riot inside of her chest. Her blood pressure, no doubt, through the roof. Her mouth watered at the sight of his abs. She understood why when women said six-pack they went haywire. On impulse she kissed his chest and licked his pec and Pete roughly called her name.

“Off,” she said, tugging his pants.

Pete's hands flew to his pants and her eyes were riveted to his hands as the zipper came down. Katniss shivered now she began to pant. Her mouth opened and her eyes widened at the sight of him. “OH,” she said. Her hands reached out to touch him, but she glanced up to see if this was alright.

Pete tersely nodded.

Her hand wrapped around him and she sighed along with his groan. He was long and thick, and his tip wept with pre-cum.

“Katniss, I want to see you,” Pete’s voice sounded low and dangerous and she shivered.

Katniss leveled a look at him as she placed her hand on the ties of her wrap dress. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“May I?”

“Okay,” she gasped, dropping her hands. She was by this point unable to talk. The anticipation was getting to her.

Pete’s eyes were hooded and dark as his hands tugged on the knot at the front of her dress. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.”

Her dress slid open and it slid off her skin smoothly like chocolate melting in one’s mouth.

Pete made a strangled cry at the sight of her. Emboldened by his reaction she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting the straps fall slowly revealing her breasts to him. His hands trembled when he reached out to touch her, but he sought her permission. 

“May I,” his voice sounded hoarse.

She nodded, but he just stood there staring at her. Unwilling to wait anymore she took his hand and slid it to her waiting breast. His touch sent her over the edge and her head snapped back and she moaned his name.

His free hand brought her closer and the press of flesh to flesh was an explosion more powerful than any force of nature. Their mouths met greedily, wildly, taking, giving, needing, and raising the temperature between them. She was a blaze for him and he was ablaze for her. He picked her up and mouths still fused, her fingers in his soft wavy hair. She pulled and played with the strands as they somehow landed on her bed. His mouth disengaged from hers once they were laying on the bed him on top looking down at her wantonly.

His lips began a decent down, his tongue tasting, lapping, tracking a path downward leaving her to be a wriggling mess. She called his name fervently as a tight coil wound deep within her womb. He paused at the juncture of her thighs. She could feel his hot breath on her inner thigh. When his fingers brushed along her soaked panties, she jumped.

“I want to taste you,” he said. His eyes flickered from her face to the crotch of her panties.

Katniss fisted her hands into the sheets. She’d accidently read about this in one of Delly’s books. She’d picked it up one day curious as to why Delly found them so appealing. What she read shocked her men kissing a woman between their legs sounded unsanitary. But right now, in this moment, with the way Pete was looking at her as if she was the most delicious plate of food it was the one thing she wanted. “Please,” she gasped.

Pete inched her panties down as if he was unwrapping a present and Katniss was relieved when her underwear were off and lay bare with her legs spread before him. He looked predatorial and yet worshipful. His hands slid up her thighs and a thousand points of electric pleasure raced to her core. And when she kissed her there, and she felt his tongue taste her and she yelled and thrashed wildly, her body shaking as he tasted her.

“Perfect,” he muttered, “delicious,” were words he repeated when he gasped for air.

Katniss didn’t care as she felt herself burn brighter and brighter, the coiling sensation whirled within her until her skin burned and she combusted with a loud sound and moisture seeped out of her.

She was barely back to herself before Pete began his onslaught again. This time, adding a finger, then another and like a dam, she burst over and over until she was a raw nerve, quaking needing more, desiring him to fill her empty spaces. The ones in her heart, mind, soul and body.

She called out his name, pulling him up to her so she could kiss him. His hands touched her and explored her body as they rolled around in the bed. Her hands also drifted over him. Her short nails scraping over his body, soft but hard, brushing over the hair that traveled down his belly button, downward to his cock. She grasped him, but Pete pulled away.

“I want you,” she growled.

His grin was instant. Then he said, “condom…”

Katniss was frustrated when he pulled away to find the offensive item that took Pete away from her. She was bereft without his warmth, and his heavenly body.  

When he returned back to her his eyes focused on her body. With fire she opened her legs, an open invitation.

“Fuck,” Pete said. His hand ran through his hair, and once more his lips descended upon her center until she was screaming his name. And when he crawled up pinning her to the bed she was a disarray of sensations primed and ready. With gentleness he lined them up before his body dipped into hers. Tears slipped from her eyes as she felt cherished, wanted, and loved.

His eyes conveyed that and more as she was split open and her mind flashed to the first moment she saw him come into the diner. The way he looked lost and bewildered when he first set eyes on her. The way his hands shook after their first kiss.

“Katniss are you alright?”

Katniss was sure, “Yes.”

“I’m not hurting you?” he gasped as she flexed muscles she didn’t know she had.

She shook her head. And with that he began moving within her and stole her breath away. Being with Pete was more than a treat, it was life altering, soul shaking. He was trying to make her feel good and there were a few times she felt the stirring, but her body was too raw and frayed to really be engaged.

“Katniss,” he panted, “you’re not with me.”

“It’s okay, let go,” she urged.

“But..” he groaned.

She gripped his butt and scraped her nails and he shouted.

She loved to watch him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t come again. She was well satisfied when she saw him lose his mind when he came. That was her new favorite memory. A memory to remove all of the bad ones.

Nothing else mattered because she had fallen in love with Pete.

-LA LIVING

Haymitch ran his hands through his hair. Whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity should have been stuffed with the food from the first episode of that food network show America's worst cooks.

A month and a half had passed and still Peeta’s name was on the lips of every single exec, studio chief, or big time producer. They wanted Peeta to be in their next production. The Oscar talk in tinsel town was at a fevered pitch and with only one person leading the pack, his client, the kid.

He sat back in his chair. He had other clients, but the kid, he was special. Because unlike the other butter nutters that he dealt with, Peeta was a good kid. He was wholesome. Too darned good for this business.

His secretary buzzed in, “Mr. Abernathy.”

“Yeah,” Haymitch bit out.

“They are calling,” his secretary said with resigned annoyance.

 Haymitch gritted his teeth. The studio was calling.

“Fudge,” Haymitch said. He’d given up his two favorite pastimes, drinking and swearing. The drinking because when he found himself lying on top of a train track in the middle of nowhere with a train horn blasting in the distance. It had been time to get help. Two the cursing, it reminded him of the bars. There was something about a good curse word that brought images of a smooth malt whisky. So as part of his sobriety, he gave up cursing.

“You want me to tell them you’re not here,” his secretary sounded giddy as if she wanted to tell them what bridge they can use to take a flying leap from.

“No. Put them through.” He could only imagine what they wanted.

“Abernathy!”

“Ravenstill,” Haymitch greeted.

“I just wanted to tell you that this Agatha Christine stunt is the best thing that has happened. We are two months away from the Oscar Nominations; his name is like gold. Not to mention the movie has been number one for six weeks and has done phenomenally well internationally.”

Haymitch could hear P. Ravenstille the Third calculating the money in his head. To men and women like Ravenstille it was all about the money, not about the kid who had had enough to leave. 

“I just want him found before the Oscar nomination,” Ravenstill said.

“Is that all?” 

“Yes, good job. I’m sending a few clients your way, Abernathy. See what you can do for their careers.” 

With that Ravenstill was gone. 

Sighing deeply, Haymitch thought to himself, it was time to begin some digging of his own. He needed to find the kid.

-THE BUBBLE

A few days later Pete made her scream so much that the tension rods gave way and fell. Maybe it was the force of the bed hitting the wall, but it didn’t matter because coming with him buried deep within her walls shook her world. She couldn’t form a simple sentence afterwards. She was glad that afternoon, Prim had been next door playing video games with Vick and Rory.

It all came about because of laundry. She was making plies gearing up for laundry day. By the time she mentioned dryer sheets her underwear was hanging from the corner of the refrigerator. Peeta had a serious kink about laundry.

When Prim came home, she stopped and looked at both of them, as they made dinner. Her eyes narrowed. She looked suspicious.

“Why is your hair wet, Pete?” Prim asked.

Pete looked so embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with a single word.

“Prim go wash up. Dinner will be done in a few minutes,” Katniss shooed her away needing to quickly redirect her sister.

“But his hair is all wet,” Prim said.

This was going to be harder than corralling baby chicks. “We were playing with water Prim,” Katniss said.

“Wait, you had a water fight and didn’t invite me!” Prim sounded outraged.

“I’m sorry, you were so busy playing victory of something or other with Vick,” Katniss teased. It wasn’t a lie; she and Pete did play with water. A steamy game of hide the soap.

Prim twisted her face, and sounded like Daffy Duck, “You’re despicable.”

“I know,” Katniss winked. “Now go wash your hands.”

Pete raised an eyebrow.

Katniss felt the way her cheeks stung as she blushed. “I didn’t lie, we were playing with water.”

Pete’s throaty laugh made her wish they were alone.

-TINSEL TOWN CALL

“Haymitch darling!” Caesar Flickerman's excited voice made Haymitch want to stand in the center of oncoming traffic. The man was so cheerful it gave him a toothache.

“Flick, I’ve got an exclusive.” Haymitch said, jumping in his car.

“Rrrreally,” Caesar rolled his r’s like a cat purring. Caesar's real name was Pertanio Rodriguez, he changed his name to sound more commercial. But he emulated Walter Mercado, a famous and beloved astrologer. Despite his Liberace-like appearance, Caesar was one of the smartest interviewers.  

“Let’s just say I’m cashing in that favor, you owe me.” Haymitch slipped his glasses on. The black and white grainy pictures of a blond Peeta Mellark and a dark haired beauty were on his passenger side.

“You mean you know where Peeta Mellark is?”

“Yeah, I want you to get ready to move, and I mean move fast.” Haymitch knew everything, thanks to Finnick. He followed Pete Golightly to District Twelve and that’s where he found him playing house with a girl. Haymitch needed to spin this fast, because he guessed if he found Peeta this fast there were others who were on his trail. “The kid’s in love, and it’s why he left. To help his lady love.”

“OHHHHH,” Caesar said.

“Yeah, star crossed, flipping flip flop, lovers.”

 -THE APPROACH

Claudius was tired, but he knew he was getting close. He could taste it as he drove off the ferry into District Twelve. The island was small, mostly filled with rocky hills. This was the type of place where cousins kissed and everyone was related.

His proof? As he drove into town all he could see was tan and olive-skinned people, with slick black hair and light eyes. Yep, he was in an inbred clusterfuck. It was evening, and the sun was dipping low, closing on another day. It was starting to get cold.

The rented car needed gas; he drove it through the Capitol and eleven of the thirteen districts. He wanted nothing more than to find a hotel, get a hot meal, and a shower.

Pulling into the gas station a taller version of the inbred came out.

“Forty dollars regular.” Claudius offered the kid the two bills. He was looking at his emails. There was still no sight of Peeta Mellark.

He scowled. “You’re tearing the engine with regular.”

The growl snapped Claudius from perusing his phone. The kid looked like he could bench press him. “Fine.”

 “Ass,” the hot-tempered giant said.

“Look, I'm looking for someone. He’s medium height, blue eyes, broad shoulders…a chin that makes women swoon.”

The kid raised an eyebrow.

“Look, he kinda looks like Peeta Mellark the movie star,” Claudius doubted the giant had two brain cells that held a note of intelligence. “Do you know anyone who looks like that?”

The giant’s eyes widened and he growled, “I do.”

“You do, great!”

“Who the hell are you?”

Suddenly Claudius saw the kids eyes turn cold and calculating, and Claudius thought huh, he was wrong, the giant was smart.

“I’m a reporter, my name is Claudius.” Claudius took out his card and gave it to the giant. “I’m looking for him, you know where he is?”

“How much is it worth to you?”

“Sure, 50K,” Claudius said.

“100 Grand,” the giant countered.

“60..” the kids hand curled into a fist, and Claudius raised his price, his voice going up an octave. “70…5…75 Grand.”

“Good, name’s Gale.”

“Gale,” Claudius said, not sure if this kid was going to lead him to Peeta Mellark or  into the mountains and skin him alive.

“Meet me tomorrow,” Gale said scribbling the address on the back of his receipt.

“If this is…”

“You want Mellark, right?” Gale asked.

“Yeah, well meet me there tomorrow morning. Early, or you won’t catch him.”

Claudius knew there was a story here, “Why?”

“Look, this district is so small about half a dozen people already know that you’re here. The news will get to him quickly and he’ll leave. Do you want that?”

“No.” Claudius felt like he was back in third grade being chastised by his thick legged hairy teacher Mrs. Gaul.

“Good, then drive four miles, make a left on Chicory lane and stop at number 451, and tell the goat man I sent you. He’ll take care of you tonight. Meet me tomorrow before five at this address.

-THE CALM

Katniss awoke slowly, she was surrounded, cocooned in a delicious warmth and manly scent. Their first date led to her sleeping with him. Heat spread throughout her body as she recalled the way it felt to have him deep inside her, the way her body split and widened to accommodate him. His look was a blend of worry and bliss. Seeing him come undone was one of her new favorite things to do.

Of course Pete confessed his favorite thing to do was making her orgasm over and over.

“How is it you’re not sleeping?”

His sleep roughened voice caused gooosebumps to appear up and down her body.

“Well, I have to go get Prim, she’s at Coral’s house.”

“Right,” Pete rubbed his eyes.

“Pete, you don’t have to go.”

Pete looked at his phone, “Katniss it’s not even five in the morning.”

“It isn’t?” Katniss looked at his phone. “I forgot the whole time-change thing.”

Pete laughed, “Well that gives us time...”

Katniss turned and saw him leering at her and she gasped and laughed as Pete attacked her lips.

-THE SNARE

Gale couldn’t believe his nemesis was none other than the ‘goody-toO-shoes’ Hollywood star; Peeta Mellark was Pete Golightly. It was the same blue eyes, chin, build, height, even his smile was the same. Only his hair was different. Peeta’s blond hair didn’t look like a bottle dye job though. He looked like a natural blond. Either way, Gale wanted to smack himself on the back of his head. His anger had blinded him and he hadn’t made the connection; the missing Hollywood star was hiding here in District Twelve, and now that Hollywood star had seduced the one clueless girl on the entire island that he, Gale, desired.

Gale looked at his phone. Claudius, the reporter was late. Gale had googled the guy last night. Claudius was legit. He worked as an independent photographer for Snow Incorporated; Coriolanus Snow owned several tabloid magazines, and a few reputable newspapers. 

For once Gale was glad Katniss' sister wasn’t at home. He knew Prim wasn’t in the apartment. Vick, his little brother said she was having a slumber party this weekend. Prim shouldn’t have to pay for her sister's indiscretion. 

A cold breeze slipped by. It was cold outside, and it looked like snow was on the way.

Pete or rather Peeta, was inside with Katniss.   

Gale wondered if Katniss knew who Pete really was and if that was why she’d let him into her inner circle. Maybe she was attracted to his fame and fortune. If that was the case, and Katniss turned out to be one of those girls, then what chance did he, a mechanic, have. She would never go for him. And that is why he was waiting for the reporter.

He wanted her to hurt the way he hurt.

He wanted her to be embarrassed the way he was embarrassed at her denial of what he wanted.

He wasn't an idiot. He was smart.

And with the money he was about to make he certainly didn’t want a cheap hussy like Katniss by his side. He was going to get himself a good girl, a girl who wanted him for more than just his looks and money. 

Gale spotted the reporter’s car as it pulled up silently.

“What kind of Blair Witch Project kind of road is this? I swear I was afraid I was going to fall into a ditch and die a few times.” 

“You made it, didn’t you?”

Claudius sighed, “Yeah.”

“You got the money?”

“I need the goods,” Clausidius said.

“Look, I know you think I’m some backward hick living in a hole in the wall, but I know that if you don’t pay me, the best picture you’ll get of Mellark is a picture of him from behind, leaving this house. What I got planned is going to make you notorious.” Gale held up the extra set of keys to the rental. 

The reporter grimaced, but looked at the keys. “Fine,” Claudius said. He got out of his car and pulled out a messenger bag full of  money and handed it to Gale. 

“That's half, that's all I have with me,” Claudius said. 

“Once I get the picture, I’ll get you the other half.”

“Then let's go,” Gale said, striding forward.

-THE STORM

Peeta lazily let his hands drift over Katniss’ arm. They were cuddling, spooning. Her delicious backside was pressed up against his front. She was half-asleep, lulled by their last round of love making. 

Prim told him last night that he needed to tell Katniss the truth.  He was scared. But as Prim said, Katniss knew him. She knew the real him and not the poster board flashy grinning guy he had to portray in the media. Everything was pretend in Hollywood and over the top. He wanted something real and he found it in her. 

His heart melted for her. He was in love for the first time in his life. He loved and was in love with Katniss and this morning he was going to tell Katniss the truth about who he was.

“Katniss,” he whispered into her cheek. 

“Mmmm,” she moans sleepily.  

“Come on, Everdeen,” he nipped at her neck, chin, and earlobe. 

“Go away,” she snuggles into the bed. 

“Katniss,” he tried again. “I’m going to make you cheese buns.”

“Mmmm, cheese buns.”

“And my real name is Peeta Mellark,” he said quietly. 

Her eyes opened, just as the curtains to her room opened and the flash of a camera went off. 

“PEETA MELLARK,” Cluadius shouts as he takes pictures. “Is she what made you leave Hollywood!”

Peeta took his shirt and covered Katniss before he leapt from the bed and pushed Caludius out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.

“Gale?” Katniss asked behind him. 

Peeta saw the tall lanky neighbor with a pleased grin in the shadows as Claudius took pictures. His first instinct was to punch the idiot, because he knew it was Gale that sold them out. His second instinct was to call in the calvary, Haymitch.  

-THE FRENZY

"My sister. They're going to take my sister away," Katniss whispered, pacing back and forth.

“Katniss, I am sorry about this,” Pete says, running his hand through his blond hair. 

She can’t stop the worrying. Then she paused and stared at the man she’d fallen in love, the man who lied to her. “You were trying to tell me...before that...that.”

“I wanted to be honest with you.” He stood and came to stand near her. 

Suddenly she was filled with questions, all of them starting with the word, why. "How did you come up with your name Pete Golightly?”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Audrey Hepbrun’s name is Holly Golightly. It’s the name I use whenever I check into hotels. I changed my name slightly and used Golightly. Only one person knows my alias, a fail safe in case someone needs to reach me in an emergency.” 

“Huh,” Katniss cocked her head. She didn’t like old movies and frankly had never seen it. But she was familiar with the posters of Audry Hepurn standing in front of the jewelry store.  “Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the girl with the black dress.”

“That’s the one.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because." He waits a beat before he says, "I was in hiding. I didn’t want to burden you with  knowing. Besides, no one needs me."

Katniss couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. How could anyone not want him, need him.

“But you’re a movie star?” Katniss whispered, wondering how she missed out on the reality that he was Peeta Mellark, the movie star. She had a poster of him when she was younger. But she blinked to focus. Pete was really Peeta. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what she knew about him. She'd seen him during these last few weeks, tested his metal. Carefully she made a list of the things she knew about Peeta, the man. He was smart, strong, generous, kind, sweet, good. At the last word she stopped. Peeta was beyond, just, plain ol' good. He had an inherent goodness that was at the center of his being, and people didn’t see it because they were taken in by the fame.

“Exactly.” He gave her a pointed look. “They need my money, notoriety, fame...but no one needs me. My family,” his voice sounds bitter laced with disappointment. "They only need me and use me for the money in my bank account. My mother sold the spare key to my house for a fee to the tabloids. They went through my home and splayed it in Snow’s publications for the world to see.  When I asked why, my mother said it was because I was a selfish, weak chinned, dumbass who she was going to sue for lost wages. As we speak her lawyers are filing paperwork.” 

He sighed and his eyes saddened. Katniss could see how broken and lost he was, and Katniss reached out to touch his hand. She wonders what kind of woman would do that to her own child.  Katniss had no idea. she didn't read the tabloids or watched shows about movie stars and their sordid lives. She was too busy trying to put food on the table and keep a roof over her and her sister’s heads. 

Sad blue eyes met her fiery silver ones. Katniss wanted to tuck him away and keep him safe.

“I left Hollywood because I was burnt out. I thought no one cared for me. I do not need attention, as Haymitch will attest to, I hate the attention, but I love the work. However, people want the movie star.  They don’t want me Peeta, the guy who would rather hang out, paint or experiment with food. I only have two friends Haymitch, which you’re about to meet and I am apologizing for what Haymitch is, and Finnick Odair.  Yes, that Finnick Odair who runs around in his movies, half naked, half the time."

Kathiss wrinkled her nose at the image of the guy with the Jason Mamoa body, and the devil may care grin. He was, in Delly's words, melt your panties hot. But Katniss didn't find him interesting. "I've been forced to watch a few of his movies."

His eyes lighted and his lips formed a smile at the word forced. 

"Delly." Katniss shrugged. "She thinks he is sultry, but he's not my type." She watched his eyes process the information. "So if you don't have that many friends..." her voice drifted. Gleaning his information about his family, she formulated the question. Katniss didn't have a lot of friends. There was only Delly and Madge. But she also had Prim, her only family,  and even her pacifist her sister would punch bees for her. "What do you do?"

"I sit home most of the time doing laundry. Perfecting my fitted sheet fold."

"You have a thing about laundry."

"Just yours," his heated look caused her pulse racing.

"Peeta," she chastised. He smiled mischievously and picked up the bra that she'd been looking for.

Intense heat flooded her cheeks. She imagined she had to be redder than the child of a tomato and a cherry. She snatched it from his hands. "You need to get back to Hollywood...and why you left."

Peeta cleared his throat. "I really don't do the whole Hollywood thing. I don't party. I don't drink and I don't do drugs. Most of my nights I hang out with Finn and his wife Annie. I do a lot of laundry for Annie. They have an adorable lil boy, a toddler, named Finian. Fin for short, who loves mud. I do their laundry for fun. But outside of them, like I said,  I have no one and I know that no one wants me, so I walked away. I didn’t think anyone would hunt me down. I am sorry.”

Katniss didn’t have a voice momentarily, so she continued to listen.

“I came here, intending to hide out for a few days and then head to District Thirteen. Then I walked into Greasy Sae’s and I couldn’t breath when I saw you and weirdly parallel stalked you…and then I met Prim.”

“What about Prim?” Katniss needed to know everything. It would serve her right that, her super intelligence off the charts, baby sister would figure who Pete really was.

“Prim knows, she figured me out. Within seconds...she knew all of my media history. She's tough, made me sweat.”  

Katniss chuckled. Her baby sister could be exasperating and could be terrifying when she turned on, what Katniss called her smart factor. Prim was a computer able to make calculations about all sorts of things. Katniss was the only one who could match her sister when engaged. But it also reminds Katniss of the pictures of her naked with Peeta.  "Oh the pictures. This isn't good Pete...Peeta."

"Katniss trust me, we'll figure a way out. I swear. My manager Haymitch will know what to do.” Peeta's voice was reassuring.

“No, you don’t understand the state; they will see this as me being irresponsible. They will take my sister away and put her in foster care.” Katniss couldn’t help the way her voice rose. Everything was spinning out of control.  She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her face.

“Listen to me. Haymitch is almost here. He said he has a plan.” He gathered her in his arms and she sighed and trembled. 

All she ever wanted was to make her sister feel safe. She wanted to make her sister feel as if nothing else could go wrong. She closed her eyes. Now she couldn’t do that because a paparazzi had taken naked pictures of her and Pete...Peeta. Naked pictures that would be splashed and splayed all over tabloids and news media outlets.  

Pictures that weren’t Peeta’s fault, but Gale’s. 

Gale sold Peeta out.

“Pete, I mean Peeta,” Katniss couldn’t hide her misery. “Those pictures, they’re going to use them against me. They are going to use them against you too.”

His eyes warmed. 

His cell phone beeped.  He looks at his phone. “Delly’s here.”  Delly was bringing Prim home. There was another ping. He frowned looking at the phone then said, “...and so is Haymitch.”

He gave her a look, as if pleading with her to trust him. He looked so vulnerable. Katniss expelled a breath. She’d question if she should trust him. A single word enters her mind. Together.

Taking his hand in hers. "There isn’t anyone I would rather do this with."

He chuckled. "You’re so fierce, like an Amazon."

Katniss grinned. "You haven't seen me with my bow."

"You’re so amazing."

Their hands threaded together. She was going to protect Peeta because the whirlwind of pain stopped here.

Let the storm commence.

"Together," Peeta said with hope.

 "Together."

-THE BUCK STOPS AT LA

Peeta opened his mouth to speak as Haymitch entered the garage. The kid’s text message that Claudius broke into the girl's apartment and took pictures of them in-flagrante had him calling in the troops. He had less than an hour to spin and control the narrative. Naked pictures of the kid wouldn’t have meant anything to Haymitch if it were another client, but the kid had a stellar track record. It meant the world. He sent a text to his contact, another favor. The kid was going to owe him big.

"Save it, kid," he said gruffly. He needed a drink, hell, he needed an entire bottle of whisky.  "Flipping burnt flapjacks, kid, if you needed a break." His eyes scanned the small interior. His car was bigger on the inside than this place. "I could have helped you."

"Haymitch," Peeta looked behind him at the girl and her sister.

"I'm sorry," Prim said quietly. "I wanted to tell you. But Peeta needed to feel safe."

"I know." Katniss nodded curtly. 

Peeta's love interest had the personality of a dead slug. His phone pinged. Haymitch hid his eavesdropping. His eyes focused on Peeta. The kid was more than just a client; he was like family. 

Haymitch lowered his voice. "I know this had to do with your family. So I let you go, my mistake. And I'm not letting anyone ruin you for a paycheck. Now introduce me."

"Haymitch, this is Katniss Everdeen and her sister Primrose.

It only took Haymitch seconds for him to assess the situation.

The little sister Primrose was sugary sweet, adorable. Her wide baby blue eyes held intelligence and goodness. The world was going to love her. 

His grey eyes met the girl. "Listen Sweetheart, if you’re going to survive this, you've got to listen to me."

His grey eyes watched the kid with the girl. He hid his grin when she scowled at his nickname for her.  He could see her bristle, before her eyes shuttered closed, almost like a camera lense quickly shifting to block out light. "Okay, lovebirds, Cinna is here. And Caesar is waiting outside to interview you both." 

"Haymitch," Peeta said, taking a step forward to protect both of the women in his arms. This behavior he expected from the kid.

Sweetheart’s behavior though surprised him. When Katniss glanced at Peeta, she transformed into a fiery creature that is so pure and majestic. Haymitch realized Sweetheart was a lot like him. Tender hearted, fiercely loyal, with a tough exterior. Haymitch knew the girl was smitten with Peeta himself, and not the Hollywood facade. This he could work with. 

"Haymitch, Katniss is Primrose's guardian. The pictures Claudius took are salacious and damning." Peeta glanced back at Katniss before moving forward. “She can't afford to have them come out. We need to make sure they are protected."

"Look, I can sell this star-crossed lover." As expected Sweetheart scowled. Good, Haymitch thought; he wanted her to go into combat mode. "You guys will tell Caesar the truth." As Haymitch spoke he was furiously typing on the keypad of his phone. "He's broadcasting it onto a live audience. People love a good love story. Any pictures Claudius has will be seen as intrusive."

Haymitch opened the door to Cinna who arrived with the prep team. 

"How long do we have?"

"15 minutes tops," Haymitch said.

Cinna nodded. The team hauled in dresses, makeup, lights, and things Haymitch was sure the Everdeen women had never seen. 

"What the hell is going on here?"

Haymitch turned to meet a woman who looked to be six feet tall. Her sharp eyes glance at Sweetheart. Haymitch guessed this was landlady by her agitated face. 

"Hazelle," Sweetheart said, and he could see that she wanted to cry, but she built up a wall. This wasn't a friend, but the woman was an authority figure. Someone Sweetheart looked up to. 

“Katniss what is going on? Why are all these people trespassing? Gale called me and said that you had all of these people here.”

Sweetheart was easy to read.  She was pissed at the name Gale. He quietly glanced at the kid who’s eyes ticked also at the sound of Gale’s name. 

“Who is Gale?” Haymitch abruptly asked, not caring about the woman before him. He knew Gale was related to Hazelle but he wanted to know what part this idiot had in this fiasco.

“Gale is my son, and this is my property.”

Sweetheart looked agitated, and he wondered if this Gale was the reason he was here. The reason the kid and sweetheart were in this mess.  Peeta mouthed Claudius to him and confirmed his suspicions. “You rent to her?” Haymitch narrowed his eyes. 

“Yes.” Hazelle bit back. “I want…” 

Haymitch got in her way, stopping her torrent of words. His phone pinged, and he got what he was waiting for, the pictures, from an insider at the tabloid Claudius sold the pictures to.  As he's suspected, the money shot wasn't of Peeta, it was of Peeta with Sweetheart. Haymitch then saw why Peeta was upset. Because the pictures showed how vulnerable the kid's other half was. It was Sweetheart’s whose life would be ruined. Her name raked through hot coals and muck. This was the intention of Hazelle’s son, and Haymitch scratched the words 'Hazelles son' and for the first time in years he cursed, that rat bastard. “Then you know your son allowed a paparazzi into your renter’s apartment and let him take pictures of my client and his girlfriend while they were asleep?”

Her eyes widened with shock. “My son would never…”

“Really,” Haymitch held his phone up and. “I believe that is your son in the background with a smug grin on his face. He violated the renter’s agreement to be notified before entering the residence. He also is a slimy, no good worm for doing that to her.” Haymitch said, “Hope you’re proud of your son.” 

Hazelle’s eyes lost her indignation. "I..."  

"I suggest you lawyer up. I've just sent the information to my client’s lawyer, Johanna Mason. I suggest you call your son and tell him he can kiss the money he made goodbye." 

"Johanna?" Peeta questioned.

Haymitch grinned wickedly. Peeta hadn't wanted to do anything about his mother, but Haymitch went behind his back to procure Hollywood's number one ball busting lawyer Johanna Mason. She gleefully was preparing the paperwork against Snow; the woman loathed the man. She already had an injunction against the images. "Don't worry Kid, she's doing this pro-bono. Now go get pretty. You go live with Caesar in less than ten."

-THE INTERVIEW

Caesar Flickerman was like a circus ringleader. Literally dressed like a ringleader with a red jacket, black lapels, and gold trimming. His hair was jet black and his smile was a little too crazed for Katniss' liking. She squared her shoulders, looking at Haymitch who raised an eyebrow and his eyes slid to the camera letting her know she was not acting like the doting girlfriend. It caused her to gaze at Peeta who took her hand and squeezed it. The butterflies that were eerily silent until this very moment were having a championship hockey match inside of her stomach.

She was so uncomfortable. In ten minutes she’d been waxed, pealed, and poured into clothing with price tags that made her head spin. The jean’s she wore cost more than her rent. She and her sister were sitting on either side of Peeta. Primrose looked beautiful, her blonde hair combed and styled to perfection. Cinna and his assistants dressed her in a graphic t-shirt dress and distressed jacket. She wore lace up black ankle boots. Prim was excited for the fashion and Katniss' heart twisted because she could never afford to give her sister any of this. 

Looking down at her hands, she thought this was all surreal. 

There were cameras, glaring lights, this fuzzy long thing that hung right above her head. It was hot and uncomfortable. It was also live.

Caesar was speaking to the camera about them. 

It was too much. Those butterflies that were playing hockey now drove dune buggies. Her eyes looked for an exit. She didn’t know how Peeta did it, being on center stage. 

Sensing her discomfort, Peeta put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. Katniss sighed, looking up at him. The sooty lashes that Peeta's prep team glued to her lids stuck together and she blinked to  separate them; this is why she didn't wear makeup.

Peeta might have read the wrong signal because he leaned in and brushed a kiss on her lips. Then his lips trailed from the cleft of her lips to her cheeks to her ear. "You okay?" he whispered.

Katniss could feel heat flush her face as she realized Peeta had found a way to communicate without breaking the charade. Katniss whispered, "My fake lashes keep on sticking together. And I loathe make up!"

The low rumble in his chest meant he was caught off guard.

She wanted to hide her grin, and he wiggled his eyebrows. There was the loveable goofball who had an unnatural love of all things laundry. Say the words fabric softener and he became a puppy with a favorite toy.

He roughly whispered, "You're amazing!"

He gently brushed her lashes and adjusted the troublesome lash before moving away.

"Look at you two, what a beautiful couple!" Caesar gushed.

For those few seconds Katniss was grateful for the man's exuberance; it's as if he was on their side.  

“So what happened Peeta?” Caesar said with notes of sincerity. “Why did you walk away?”

Peeta leaned forward and Katniss slipped her hand in his. 

“It was the whole thing with my parents.” Peeta’s voice hid nothing of the pain; he shared it with the world. “My mother sold me to the highest bidder, and,” Katniss squeezed his hand. “They went through my home. I felt violated, and unable to feel safe.”

Caesar said, “I recall that wasn’t that long ago.”

“The pressure, sadness, and betrayal were eating me up and I needed to step away.  I am not a drinker or a guy who enjoys partying.” Peeta shrugged. “I’m a homebody. I’m more domestic.” 

Katniss thought of his love of laundry and the butterflies in her stomach settled.   

Caesar laughed. “Domestic.”

“He makes great pastries,” Prim said. Her eyes were wide and lovely. 

“Pastries?” Caesar asked. 

“Here you want some?” Prim held up a bag of cookies. “They are heavenly.”

“PRIM,” Katniss huffed. “I’m so sorry.”

Peeta grinned.  “You see Caesar, this is what I needed.”

Caesar laughed. “Tell me who are these lovely ladies…”

“This is Primrose Everdeen,” Peeta introduced. 

“Hi Caesar,” Prim said. “Seriously though you need to try these cookies.” Prim opened the brown bag and handed one to Caesar.

“Well, alright,” Caesar looked at the cookie as if tasting it was going to make him gain three hundred pounds. 

“It’s gluten free, dairy free, and nut free,” Prim smiled. 

The camera zoomed into Caesar’s face and Katniss witnesses the power of Peeta’s bakery take down another person. The celebrity interviewers face turners into one of pure rapture. “Peeta, you must give me the recipe.”

“Sorry his baked goods are all mine,” Prim said. 

Caesar laughed. “Oh she is precious. But tell me who is this sitting next to you?”

“Caesar this is Katniss Everdeen.”

The butterflies were back and they had jackhammers. 

“She’s the reason I stayed actually. They aren’t the reason I walked away, but they are the reason I didn’t go back” Peeta confessed. His voice softened, his eyes held notes of tenderness as he spoke, “These two women mean the world to me.”

Even the hardened Hollywood crew sighed at Peeta’s words. 

“I met him first,” Prim said. “But I needed to make sure he had good intentions toward my sister.” 

“Katniss,” Caesar asked, “You’ve been so quiet.”

Katniss glanced at her sister and then at Peeta, unaware of the way her face transformed and caused the world to fall in love with her. She transcended into something fierce and wildly beautiful. 

The camera scanned down to the way her hands were intertwined with Peeta’s. 

“When did you fall for him? Did you know who Peeta was?”

Katniss couldn’t stop staring into Peeta’s blue eyes. “I didn’t know who he was; I was clueless.” Her voice trembled, “All I know is that he was so kind and generous.” She stared, not at the camera but at Caesar. “And when I found out who he was and what happened I just couldn’t understand why any mother would want to hurt their child like that.”   

Peeta smiled softly then he looked at Caesar, “Now you know why I stayed.” Peeta then placed a kiss on her lips and then said, “What I didn’t expect was another invasion of privacy.” 

 -AMERICAN SWEETHEARTS

“You alright?” Peeta tucked a strand of her hair behind Katniss' ear. She looked gorgeous. Cinna had outdone himself. She wore a red dress that looked like poured molten fire on her skin. Peeta couldn’t wait to get back home and strip her out of it. 

“I am.” 

He watched her hands shake. The Oscars was the superbowl of the movie industry. Peeta held her hand. Outside the limo, there were about a thousand reporters and wall to wall fans.  This was overwhelming for her and he was the professional. He could just imagine what it was like for a girl who would rather sit in the chair of a sadistic dentist sans novacaine than to be thrust into the controlled mêle that existed outside the limo’s door.

“You don’t have to go in with me; you can stay in the car. You can go back to the hotel, rent a movie, jump on the bed, steal all of the toiletries in the room, and if you are feeling dangerous," Peeta lowered his voice an octave, "rip the tags off the mattress.”

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. He watched her struggle to keep the laughter she wanted to expel over his ridiculous suggestion. He, of course, made reference to the small argument they were having over her purity. 

It started with Finnick doing his whole Daniel Craig, James Bond thing where he came out of the water. Finnick was messing with her and Katniss disliked him. She proceeded to give Finnick, ‘if he were in her woods he'd be in big trouble’ looks throughout the barbeque. 

Peeta told her, Finnick was only messing with her because she was pure.  And Katniss bristled, and fought that she wasn't pure. But Peeta didn't mean it in a sexual way. He meant it in the way that she was pure of heart. Katniss had a pure heart. Like the hero's of old, she was valiant and although tough as nails, she was forgiving. Gale betrayed her and she was mulling over forgiving him.

After Caesar's interview, Peeta and Katniss’ relationship was cemented in the public eye. Haymitch was able to control the narrative since Katniss led a normal life and wasn't like Finnick, who had so many hidden skeletons in his closet. Haymitch was taking care of the Everdeen women, mentoring them. He had an affinity for Prim and Katniss. They understood one another because Haymitch had lost his family as well, and he had tried to raise his brother, but they were separated and sent into foster homes. 

Haymitch hired Johanna to help Katniss retain her custody of Prim. They were seeking visas for all three of them. Peeta to travel in and out of Panem, and For Katniss and Prim. 

Johanna, spurred by the public outcry over the second violation of his privacy, wanted Snow and his tabloids prosecuted for invasion of privacy of someone who wasn't in the limelight. Gale and Claudius were arrested for, breaking and entering and some other misdemeanor charges. Claudius was facing a harder climb because he was an outsider. Because of Katniss, there was clemency for Gale. And that brought him back to why Katniss was pure. She didn't even know the effect she had on people or how she inspired others.  

Peeta reached out and put his hand on top of hers. “No, I can do this,” she said.

He knew this was not easy, but as she sat perched at the edge of her seat, he thought about how Katniss became his family. How she encouraged him to take on meaningful roles, and to pursue directing and production. They were both still young, but he knew from the moment his eyes met hers in Greasy Sae's diner he was a goner. His feelings for Katniss multiplied as time passed and they worked through each hurdle together. 

Looking at her, Peeta knew without a doubt Katniss had strong feelings for him as well. She wasn't someone who used words; she spoke with her actions. Katniss fought by his side. Simple things she did. Like making his tea the way he liked it without sugar and milk. Opening the window before they went to sleep because she knew he liked to sleep with a window open. Googling how to make natural paints, then going out into nature and gathering supplies to make the paint for him. It spoke volumes.

"I love you," the words slipped out of his lips. 

Her eyes widened.

"You don't have to say it back to me, because I know that you care about me. You do a hundred little things in the day to show me the depths of your emotions toward me." 

He watched as a smile curved her lips. Her silvery eyes sparkled, greater than sunlight glittering on the surface of water. She stole his breath away. All he ever wanted was to be needed, loved, and here was the personification of that need.

"I need you Peeta," she rasped. He could hear and see the depth of emotion in her eyes. "I love you." 

He leaned in and with shaking hands cupped her face. Suddenly he didn’t want to be at the Oscars. Peeta wanted to be in a private room to show her with his words, his mouths, his hands, and his body just how much he loved this woman. “Screw the Oscars, let's get out of here.” 

Her eyes turned mischievous, “Oh hell no. I wasn’t plucked, creamed and stuffed into this dress like a holiday turkey by Cinna and his prep team just to turn around and leave. We’re going to walk that carpet, we’re gonna sit in our seats, and do this shindig, because as much as I like pissing off Haymitch, I don’t think we should give him a heart attack by not showing up.”

Peeta laughed. There she was pushing her own discomfort for him. “And afterwards?”

“Win or lose, Pete Golightly, you’re taking this dress off with your teeth.” She threw him a mischievous look, “And then we’re going to grab some fabric sheets and sniff them.”

The door opened and Peeta was stunned by her description. Heat and desire poured through his veins. He now had a boner. Then a slow smile spread on his face he was going to go home a winner no matter what.  Laughter erupted from his lips, though from the fabric sheets comment and the sheer joy on his face was the picture that was captured by the press.

Peeta did win the Oscar, and he did go home, and he did tear off her dress with his teeth. And afterwards they did laundry all night long. He was after all, a man of his word. 

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 13: I Have Trust Issues But Okay

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain. We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity. We tried to keep a low profile because Percy and I's name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. It seemed like when they saw me with Percy they realized me and my family are gone. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as we got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in my eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. I was holding his hand with my knife on the other hand. The picture's caption read: Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with three teenage accomplices. It has been found out one of which is Y/N L/N, a twelve-year-old girl who went missing with her family during a trip. Percy Jackson's stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told Percy. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure. The rest of the day we spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows. Calm Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I looked around the passenger car, the adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines, Percy and I saw an amazed look. Another time, toward evening, Percy said he saw something huge moving through the woods. He swore it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and it was the size of a Hummer, then it leaped through the trees and was gone. I told him he might have been seeing things and Annabeth agreed. Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. I sat between Percy and Annabeth. Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking Percy up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed. "So," Annabeth asked me, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants Percy's help?" "What do you mean?" "You heard it too didn't you? When he was asleep just now, he mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Has he told you what he's dreaming about?" "Gossiping about me?" Percy yawned. "Pretty much everyone is. So I think we'll join." I said. "Annabeth wants to know about your dream. I could tell he was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time he'd dreamed about it. Then he finally told her. Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "If you think it's Hades, that doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs." She pointed out. "He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?" We could. If you bring us together we could trade. "What?" Percy and Annabeth looked at me in worry. "Something on my face? Is there something close?" "Y/N, you did it again." Percy said. "Did what?" "You... Talked. Differently. Like weirdly." "Your definition of weird doesn't describe me. I did nothing wrong. I haven't even given an in put on your topic. Which we should get back on." I don't know why I had no idea what they meant by me talking weirdly, but I felt like I should stay away from that topic. "I guess ... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?" She explained looking at me as if I was the one that needed convincing. I shook my head, wishing I knew the answer. I thought about what Grover had told me, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something. Where is it? Where? Maybe Grover sensed my emotions. He snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head. Percy readjusted Grover's cap so it covered his horns. "Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time-" "This time?" I asked. "You mean you've run into them before?" Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. "Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom." "What would you do if it was your dad?" "That's easy," she said. "I'd leave him to rot." "You're not serious?" Annabeth's gray eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she'd worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the hellhound. "My dad's resented me since the day I was born," she said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent." "But how ... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital...." "I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular' mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist." I stared out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting by. I wanted to make Annabeth feel better. I don't know but the only way I could think of was a hug. So I wrapped and arm around her shoulders. She stiffened unsure of what I'd done. "My parents, they loved me all the same. The closet I got to talking about Gods was when they thought me. Not a single hint was dropped about me being a halfblood. I mean if you count my grandma Hestia. Which I think is just named after the goddess. I mean yeah, you had a not so wonderful life... But at least you're who you are now." I smiled at her. Eying Percy I gave him a nod towards Annabeth telling him to comfort her since he'd started it anyway. "My mom married a really awful guy," he told her. "Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that's what your dad was thinking." Annabeth kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father's. I wondered why she wore it if she hated him so much. "He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife-my stepmom-treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened-you know, something with monsters-they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk.' Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away." "How old were you?" "Same age as when I started camp. Seven." "But ... you couldn't have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself." "Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway." I wanted to ask what happened, but Annabeth seemed lost in sad memories. Luke had already told me some of these part where he went here with Annabeth and Thalia. So I gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by. Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis. Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city. "I want to do that," she sighed. "What?" I asked. "Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Y/N?" "Only in pictures." "Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years." Percy laughed. "You? An architect?" Her cheeks flushed. "Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention." "Percy! I think she'll be incredible." I pinched his arm. We watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below. I took Percy's hand in fear that the water would just grab me and drag me down. "Sorry," Annabeth said. "That was mean." I nudged Percy to apologize as well, "I didn't mean to make fun of you. I'm sorry." "Can't you two work together a little?" I pleaded. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?" Annabeth had to think about it. "I guess ... the chariot," she said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete." "Then you two can cooperate, too. Right?" We rode into the city, Annabeth watching as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel. "I suppose," she said at last. We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver. Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food." "Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing." "Sightseeing?" "The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?" Grover, Percy and I exchanged looks. I wanted to say no, but seeing the stars in Annabeth's as she watched, she was too adorable to say no to. Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters." The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn't all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay. I kept looking around, though, at the other people in line. "You smell anything?" Percy murmured to Grover. He took his nose out of the jelly-bean bag long enough to sniff. "Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything." I took a peek at my knife and saw there was a very weak glow, or maybe a sunlight reflection. Somewhere in between. "Guys," I said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?" Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?" "Well, Hade-" Grover cleared his throat. "We're in a public place.... You mean, our friend downstairs?" "Um, right," I said. "Our friend way downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?" "You mean the Helm of Darkness," Annabeth said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting." "He was there?" Percy asked. She nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus-the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true...." "It allows him to become darkness," Grover confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?" "But then ... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" I asked. Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks. "We don't," Grover said. "Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?" Someone else could be watching. Hades isn't the only one to blend in the shadow young vessel. But worry not, all in the darkness, shall be your ally. So Hades will also be my ally? As air and water refuse, land and all there is shall be your ally. Can't I be allies with all? Hades, Zeus, Poseidon. Everyone. The three of them looked at me in surprise. "Don't say their name!" Grover whispered loudly. "Whose name? I haven't said a name!" I could talk through you young vessel. Is this the first time this happened? How can you forget about our conversation? Talk through me? Who are you? I am one of which that'll make sure you become one with yourself. "Y/N!!" Percy yelled. "What? Geez, you're too loud." "We've been calling your name for three minutes." Annabeth said. "Are you... Okay?" "Yeah why wouldn't I be?" When the tiny elevator car came. We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it. We started going up, inside the Arch. I'd never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn't too happy about it. "No parents?" the fat lady asked us. She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp. "They're below," Annabeth told her. "Scared of heights." "Oh, the poor darlings." The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious. I said, "Sonny. Is that his name?" "No," the lady told me. She smiled, as if that cleared everything up. At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was okay, but if there's anything I like less than a confined space, it's a confined space six hundred feet in the air. I was ready to go pretty quick. I could see Percy was too. So I took his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze to calm him down despite my breakdown. Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes. I steered Annabeth while Percy with Grover, toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and we were about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for me. The park ranger said, "Next car, sir." "We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you two." But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, "Naw, it's okay. We'll see you guys at the bottom. I'll keep an eye on him." Grover and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp. Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, a little boy with his parents, the park ranger, and the fat lady with her Chihuahua. Percy and I smiled uneasily at the fat lady. She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth. Wait a minute. Forked tongue? Before I could decide if I'd really seen that, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at Percy. "Now, now, sonny," the lady said. "Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here." "Doggie!" said the little boy. "Look, a doggie!" His parents pulled him back. The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips. "Well, son," the fat lady sighed. "If you insist." Ice started forming in my stomach. "Urn, did you just call that Chihuahua your son?" "Chimera, dear," the fat lady corrected. "Not a Chihuahua. It's an easy mistake to make." She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slits, like a reptile's. The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar. The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster. The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA-RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS-IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS-EXT. 954. I immediately pulled out my knife. And waited for the moment to jump in front of Percy who was ten feet away from the Chimera's bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the creature would lunge. The snake lady made a hissing noise that might've been laughter. "Be honored, Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!" Percy and I stared at each other for a second stared at her. All he could think to say was: "Isn't that a kind of anteater?" She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. "I hate it when people say that! I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me. For that, Percy Jackson, my son shall destroy you!" The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to take Percy's arm to pull him aside and dodge the bite. We ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry open the emergency exit doors. I couldn't let them get hurt. I positioned myself able to parry any oncoming attack. Percy uncapped his sword, ran to the other side of the deck, and yelled, "Hey, Chihuahua!" The Chimera turned faster than I would've thought possible. Before he could swing my sword, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue pit, and shot a column of flame straight at him. Percy dove through the explosion. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was so intense, I could feel it where I stand and it was like I was in a sauna. Where Percy had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges. Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument. As the Chimera turned, Percy slashed at its neck. That was a fatal mistake. The blade sparked harmlessly off the dog collar. I saw the serpent tail lifted it whipped around and with all I could I ran and raised my knife to block it. Percy tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera's mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around his ankles and pulled him off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River. I pulled a weaponless Percy behind me and raised my small one. We backed into the hole in the wall. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips. The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. "They don't make heroes like they used to, eh, son?" The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish us off now that we were beaten. I glanced at the park ranger and the family. The little boy was hiding behind his father's legs. I had to protect these people. I couldn't just ... die. I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. And I was scared. There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Trust our hero. Jump with him. He had sworn to save us. Far, far below, the river glittered. Percy and I shared a reluctant and fearful look. If we died, would the monsters go away? Would they leave the humans alone? "If you are the son of Poseidon," Echidna hissed, "you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline. Maybe your small friend could survive with you." We both knew the water hated me. But I trusted Percy. I'd jump if he told me. The Chimera's mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast. "Either you have no faith," Echidna told me. "You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little cowards. Better you die now. The gods are faithless." Percy took my hand and backed up, he looked down at the water. Percy looked at me and smiled. I knew what he wanted. Holding his hand tighter, I got closer to him. "Die, faithless one," Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward our faces. "Father, please," I heard Percy say. "Don't hurt her. Help us." We turned and jumped. Our clothes on fire, we plummeted toward the river.

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (kmart’s haunted)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company. (part 2) - Missouri 1     (part 3)

Warnings: swearing, very light spooky?

Word Count: 2245

A/N: so we’ve established that Doux wasn’t the one who burnt the bookstore, but they don’t know that. look, have you been in a Kmart recently? its apocalyptic. also, you know that post about people repeating their default work greetings by accident? yeah

“Do you want me to split the bill or?” The waitress asked, not sure if the group at the table was a young couple and their child or just three college kids hanging out. It was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, that one kid was so small, wearing a little deer costume, and had been helped to order. The other two radiated the energy of an old married couple and talked mainly to each other. But on the other hand, college kids are just like that sometimes.

“Nah, I got it.”

“What? No. I’m paying for us.” Douxie insisted.

“I have the cash, Doux.” (Name) turned to the waitress. She put some honey in her voice. “Just bring us one bill, please.” The waitress nodded nervously before heading off.

“No. I don’t want you paying for too many things while we’re traveling. You’re unemployed.”

“And who’s fault is that Mr. Mephits-Are-Vulnerable-To-Fire? You fucking burned down the store and put us both out of work here.” Nari was squirming at the negative vibes going on. It helped that she didn’t exactly understand what was going on.

“It was magic fire!” Douxie interjected in outrage. He looked so cute when he got defensive.

“Yeah, okay, sure.” (Name) shook her head, looking up to the ceiling. She let out a huff, “look, I invited myself onto this trip, Douxie. I want to pull my own weight. You’re going to have to let me pay for something eventually.”

“We’ll see about that, Love,” he said as he grabbed the ticket from the waitress’s hands as quick as lightning, tucked his card in and gave it right back before (Name) could further protest.

“Ugh! FINE! Then I’m getting the tip.” She pulled out a tenner and slapped it onto the table. She glared right back into Douxie’s hazel eyes. He glared right back into hers with a matched intensity. Nari looked back and forth between the two and whimpered. (Name) broke the standoff to assure Nari that they weren’t actually angry at each other so she shouldn’t be worried. That seemed to ease the forest child a bit but not by too much. She could still feel the weird aura they were putting off.

“Okay! So here’s your check back and here’s that lox bagel you ordered to go.” The waitress handed (Name) a doggy bag.

(Name) took the bag gingerly. A big fake smile spread across her face as she was momentarily possessed by that good spirit of customer service. “Thank you! I hope your experience was spellbinding! Have a magical day!” (Name) said on autopilot in that high-pitched voice and winked exaggeratedly. It was like she was an NPC and her talk button had been accidentally pushed. The waitress laughed forcibly and scurried away to the kitchen. Douxie cracked up.

“You do know that when I told you to say all that stuff after ringing people up, I was hazing you, right?”

“Oh yes, I am completely aware, Doux. Did you think I’d not pick up on how ridiculous that sounds? But I still say it to spite you.”

He shook his head. “Of course.”

***

Archie scarfed down his bagel sandwich with almost disturbing speed. It was like watching the void consume, well, a bagel sandwich. It just disappeared. Down his furry maw and out of existence. Being a dragon works up an appetite, after all. (Name) was a bit baffled and asked him if she should go get him another bagel. He assured her that the one was just fine and said something about trying to catch some birds later. She leaned back on her elbows against the boat’s railing, trying and failing to not think about the details of that.

Douxie cleared his throat. “So,” He folded his hands together for emphasis, “Since the subject of money came up earlier, I think we should also discuss the topic of our accommodations.”

“Well, you two obviously cannot afford lodging every night.” Archie snarked, flicking his tail.

“Thank you, for that, Arch. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a tent.”

“A tent?” the cat asked incredulously.

“Oh, that could work.” (Name) pointed at Douxie animatedly, “keep us close to nature for Nari. And also could keep our possible property damage bills down. Good idea, Doux.”

“Thank you,” Douxie puffed up, “see Arch? Someone appreciates my ideas-”

“Wait. That’ll be a short-term solution. We’re just barely into September. It’s going to be much, much colder in about a month. By October it’ll be too cold to bear. Even if we all huddle together like penguins.”

Doux looked away to hide his blush at the suggestion. “That is a problem. Okay, um-”

“Maybe we could just cross that bridge when we get there? Who knows what could happen between now and then. We could find so temp work in a little town somewhere.” (Name) shrugged, smirking at Doux. She didn’t want to admit that ‘we could be dead by then’ was also definitely a possibility on the table, so she tried to further distract from that thought. “Maybe we’ll find a creepy abandoned cabin in the woods we can squat in. Maybe some nice trolls will take us in as novelty pets. Maybe my rich Aunty Josie could just suddenly die under some ‘mysterious circumstances’ and leave her lavish fortune to her beloved niece,” she smirked at Doux, “I dunno, just spit ballin’ here.”

“I’m electing to ignore that you just suggested we ice your aunt because you were onto something there.”

“I was?” Her tone was a mixture of sarcasm and disbelief.

“Yes! New Jersey!

“New Jersey?” The wheels turned. “Oh! New Jersey!”

Nari looked confused. “What is special about this ‘New Jersey’?” she asked

Both Douxie and (Name) turned to her, “Trolls.” They said in sync.

***

(Name) stood there with her hands in her pockets. Somehow this Kmart was still standing, out here in The-Middle-Of-Fucking-Nowhere, Missouri. She was standing here, in a Kmart. It might as well have been 1986. There was barely anything on the shelves. Half the shelves themselves were missing. The floor had a layer of grime to it, in spite of the wet floor sign along with the shiny patches that said that it had clearly been mopped recently. The air smelled like something (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nostalgic. A strange scent that took her back to her childhood. Or at least she thought it was her childhood. It had to have been. Taking deep breaths, she couldn’t quite get enough of it.

Continuing that vibe, a muzak 80’s tune played over the speakers. Funny enough, despite (Name)’s brain seeming to recognize that it was playing a song from the 80’s, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it as to which. Every time she thought she’d figured it out, she’d hear a few notes that would somehow change her mind. It was a pop song at least, to narrow it down. It’d been going on for about six minutes now. Must be one of those extended tracks.

She’d ask Douxie what he thought the song was. She turned her attention to him and noticed he was still just staring at that same shelf like he had been for, what, ten minutes now? Even though this fucking Kmart barely had any shelving in it, by some miracle it not only had exactly what they were looking for but an entire aisle of them. How lucky was that.

Douxie was taking very careful consideration into this tent purchase. This was going to be their new home, after all. He just couldn’t decide which one was best. They all had fancy camping terms on the packages that meant nothing to him. He’d been trying to decipher the code. The secret outdoorsman code. Nari shifted uncomfortably in the basket.

“Hisirdoux, you should maybe, hurry this along?” She sounded strained.

But she was right. He should just pick one already. It’s all a gamble anyway. He decided on a dark green one that boasted a water-proof material. Good natural color, not easily spotted, and it wouldn’t soak through with rain. That should work well enough, he figured.

“I’ve hurried along. Sorry Nari.” He casually tossed the box into the cart next to her. She sniffed the box and nodded to him.

Now that they had their goal item, the quest party started for the checkouts. Douxie could have sworn that it had been on the side of the store they were in. They had passed it when they came in. Now it was completely across by the other door. Did he get turned around? Or maybe they did come in from that side of the store. He actually couldn’t remember.

As they walked, a few things caught (Name)’s eye. They passed a display of dark leafy plants in oddly shaped pots, a table stacked high with various books and a clearance sign, a knife case that had been left open, a candle display with a few that had already been lit and were dripping wax, a bargain bin of CDs, and lastly a sad box of no-longer-in-season pool noodles. There was a sale on bloodmeal apparently. Perfect for perking up those roses after the summer heat.

They arrived at the checkout after what felt like an endless journey. (Name) hadn’t noticed any other customers the entire time they had been there, and yet the line for the only check open had seven people in it. She grabbed a couple bags of red licorice from the impulse shelf to add to their cart while waiting.

Nari was really interested in that checker. (Name) took her in. The teen was taller than most and had very, very long blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a shiny golden waterfall. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in. Must be going through a diet phase. Poor girl.

The young woman was obviously not one for small talk. Name couldn’t blame her. Retail sucks. Her perfect red fingernails clicked against the keys of the register in a practiced beat. She turned around and told them their total in a bored monotone. As Douxie fiddled with his wallet and payed, (Name) found herself staring right into the cashier’s eyes. They were such a light icy blue, they were almost white. It was striking. (Name) was almost in a trance. It was broken as the cashier turned around swiftly to rip off the receipt off the machine, and, in an uncharacteristically cheery voice, told them to have a nice night. Night?

They returned the cart back to the stack, grabbing their one singular shopping bag and helping Nari out. Of course Nari could easily just jump out herself, but that wouldn’t be something a human child could do. They didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves here. They made their way to the automatic sliding doors that lagged so that they didn’t open until you were standing right in front of them. This allowed Douxie time to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the glass. The reflection of the store was completely devoid of people. Not even the checker was at her station. He sucked in a breath. After walking through those first doors, he stopped. He took a moment to turn back. There she was, right where she should be, checking out another customer with three more in the line.

Douxie hurried along the doorway to catch up to (Name) and Nari. It was darker outside than he expected, and he was taken aback. He found them right outside the store, waiting for him. In one hand, (Name) was holding Nari’s, in the other, the plastic shopping bag. Her head was tipped up to the sky, transfixed by the moon. He came over, grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her along, in an attempt to urge her away from this place. She looked back at him, eyes wide with distress. He tried to convey that he understood with his eyes. All three of them instinctually knew not to say anything more why they were still in this parking lot.

It had barely been half past noon when they had started this little Kmart side quest. It was now at least seven by the looks of it. They had spent six and a half hours in a Kmart? How had they spent six and a half hours in a Kmart. There went their entire travel day. But no time to dwell on this, they needed to get back to Archie and the boat as soon as possible.

As they walked back towards the ship, (Name) and Douxie both took one of Nari’s hands so that she was in the middle, like how those couples walk with their children. The streetlights glared up at them in the slick pavement. Apparently, it had rained while they were in shopping limbo. Poor Arch. (Name) let out a puff of air.

“Well. That sure was something.”

Douxie nervously chuckled, “If we had stayed in there any longer, I think we might have died.” (Name) mirrored that nervous chuckle.

“Oh, no, dying would be much simpler than what would have happened to us.” Nari said sweetly, like what she was saying was somehow better. Nari liked being helpful. (Name) put on her best fake smile.

“Thank you, Nari.” She tried her best to sound as sincere as possible to spare the veggie lady’s feelings.