#and when she doesn’t like something she just ignores both parents and acts like she didn’t hear them

[pergaminaa]

In a modern AU Aelin would not believe that Dorian’s daughter, at the ripe age of fifteen months would simply walk to her crib and lay down to nap without making any fuss. She has kids of her own, she knows it’s a scam.

She was visiting Dorian one afternoon, and true to what he described: the small child started sucking on her fingers, a sign she was getting sleepy.

“You want to sleep?” Dorian asked his daughter while walking her to the nursery, Aelin in tow.

Arriving at the nursery, Dorian placed the small child in her crib, and she laid down and closed her eyes, falling asleep without as much as make a fuss.

Aelin still didn’t believe it, even though she was seeing it with her own eyes. She has multiple children and nap time is never this peaceful and children naturally reject naps??? Why is Dorian’s kid like this???

“How do you do this?” Unable to contain her curiosity she asked him when they left the nursery a moment later. The infant not making any sound or being upset that she’s left alone. To Aelin, this is not normal.

“Do what?” Dorian asked.

“That. She just goes to sleep without a fuss?”

“Usually. She knows when she’s tired and when we suggest sleep she’s compliant,” Dorian explained. “Although she has her moments, sometimes she refuses to sleep and end up being fussy and cranky,” Now that sounds like a normal infant behavior, not the compliant child that listens to her body’s needs.

“Dorian, you know that cranky is the default when it comes to sleep, right?”

“I guess we got lucky,” Because he appreciates that his child isn’t like most. It could be because of how they parent her, or it’s just her temperament.

Although, if he’s being honest, he knows that his little daughter takes after her mother in more than just looks. It is a fact he is aware of, one that never fails to bring a smile to his face.

[theprettyarachnid]

raising laura with logan would include

a/n: we’re ignoring the ending of logan, okay? also if yall haven’t watched, WATCH IT

warnings: none

🕷️ logan is sort of bad at it in the beginning, he’s unsure of what to do and what not to do

🕷️ laura and him clash from time to time but they always make up

🕷️ laura calls logan ‘stupid’ in spanish whenever they fight

🕷️ you braid laura’s hair in the morning before she goes to school

🕷️ she likes having you braid her hair, especially fish tails

🕷️ you’ve found logan and laura asleep on the couch many times

🕷️ she’s always laying on his chest as logan has one hand on her head while the other is on her back

🕷️ you’re guilty of taking a picture or two… or ten

🕷️ you love to take laura shopping and you can’t help but spoil the girl

🕷️ logan gives you lectures about you spoiling her but he’s just as guilty as you are

🕷️ there are definitely some hidden parenting books logan has bought

🕷️ the three of you have a standing game night every saturday

🕷️ laura’s favorite game is game of life and twister

🕷️ logan once threw his back out playing twister

🕷️ laura’s favorite holiday is christmas because logan makes really good hot chocolate while you and laura pick out christmas movies to watch

🕷️ laura begging you and logan for a dog

🕷️ “it’s not me you have to convince, it’s logan.”

🕷️ you and laura definitely have a habit of ganging up on logan when the two of you want something

🕷️ logan always helps laura with math homework

🕷️ you and logan having to go to a parent/teachers conference because laura punched a kid in the face

🕷️ you have to tell logan to not act so proud of her but he’s a proud father

🕷️ “i’m sure the kid deserved it”

🕷️ she punched him because he wasn’t sharing the slide

🕷️ the teacher does not appreciate logan’s support of laura

🕷️ laura who likes to help make dinner

🕷️ she doesn’t do much but you’ll have her stir something or roll out the dough when making homemade pizza

🕷️ laura probably has some beef with certain vegetables and logan pulls the “you’re not leaving this table until they’re gone” crap

🕷️ laura sometimes crawling in bed with the two of you when she has a nightmare

🕷️ you sometimes stay up with her and you both laugh because of logan’s snoring

🕷️ when laura is watching tv, logan has a habit of asking questions

🕷️ “who’s this character?” or “that’s stupid they shouldn’t have done that”

🕷️ it earns him a very loud shushing from laura

[sl0t4matt]

m. guiu bfb! head canons 18+

bfb= best friends brother also listened to this on repeat while writing lol

best friends brother

bfb! marc, that you had a crush on since middle school. embarrassing? you know.

bfb! marc, who’s his and his sisters fights you were watching. not sure what to do, you just waited until they were finished screaming at each other. he even looked good angry with the way his jaw was clenching. annoying, really.

bfb! marc, that randomly comes into his sisters room whenever you’re there, annoying her.

bfb! marc, that chews louder on purpose just to annoy the both of you. seriously, ew!

bfb! marc, that you thought you never even had a chance with. him only ever seeing you as his sisters weird best friend.

bfb! marc, that got even handsomer this summer. that asshole.

bfb! marc, who you sometimes thought was going to make a move. or maybe it was all in your head.

bfb! marc, that started to notice how much your body has changed when he saw you at the beach this summer. maybe he was a bit of a freak for watching you lay there, tanning yourself but fuck. how could he not look at you, with the way your nipples were peeking through that bikini of yours, that shows you off in every right places. fuck when did you get tits and when did his sisters best friend get so hot?

bfb! marc, that comes into his sisters room, acting like he needs something, only to get to see you. you hold eye contact for a few seconds, until martina scolds him out again.

bfb! marc, that only gets along with his sister when their parents are out of town and they throw a party. it’s a win- win situation. he’s getting an opportunity to get laid and you and martina have a reason to get drunk. (also the getting laid part).

bfb! marc, that secretly told every guy in town not to start anything with you. seriously, how immature?!

bfb! marc, that you got caught making out with by his sister on their party. yikes!

bfb! marc, that got yelled at by his sister, her not even being slightly mad at you, since she thought it was her fuck boy of a brother trying to get on her nerves again. she assumed it was one sided and that you would never like an annoying and stupid guy like him. but that’s exactly your type.

bfb! marc, that tries to talk to you after that kiss, but you kept on ignoring him, not wanting to jeopardise you and martinas relationship.

bfb! marc, that finally got you to talk to him which lead you to the backseat of his car. poor martina..

bfb! marc, that you agreed with that your relationship with him stays on the hook up basis.

bfb! marc, that is down badd for you, begging for you to go down on him. in his words your head ‘game’ being unreal. 😭

bfb! marc, that gets off on your snaps.

bfb! marc, that even though your relationship status being purely ‘hooking up’, doesn’t want you to be with any other guy.

bfb! marc, that invites you over to his house whenever his sister isn’t there. like right now. “so, what do you wanna do?” he asks. you roll your eyes. “i don’t know, play with barbie dolls?” you reply, laughing. “yeah, whatever.” he scoffs, his head disappearing in the covers, as he goes down on you. he starts by leaving wet kisses over your stomach, travelling them down until he meets your needy cunt. you bite your lip, reaching out to his hair, gripping it. his hand slides up your body, going under your top to grip your tit. you pull the covers slightly down, catching him smirking. “you wanna see what i’m doing to you like little slut, don’t you?” he chuckles, lowly. “shut up.” you mutter, placing his head back to where you need him the most. “marc have you taken my-.” fuck. martina. “shit. fuck. get out!” marc jumps, getting off of you. the door slams shut, leaving you and marc looking at the door, still in shock. you get up, leaving marc’s room to get into martina’s. you sigh, knocking on her door before getting in. you sit down beside her on the bed, your hand meeting your head. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i don’t know what i was thinking.” you sigh, shaking your head. you turn around to face her. “i swear i was gonna end it.” “we’re you really? do you like him?!” she whisper yells. “i-. i don’t know.” you avoid her eyes. looking into them while you weren’t being true to her was never your specialty. “you do!” she shakes her head, huffing. “i did since middle school, martina-.” you try explaining before she cuts you off. “he’s going to break your heart.” she says before getting up, leaving you in the room alone.

bfb! marc, that finally caught you after all the time you’ve been ignoring his texts. “please, let’s talk through we can-.” you cut him off. “we can what marc? hook up again? god are you seriously that dumb?!” he sighs. “you know how weird it’s been between us her after it happened? i had to regain her trust after eighteen years of friendship. i’m not gonna ruin that just because i like you.” you say in one breathe. “you like me?” he furrows, looking down on you. “shit, i shouldn’t have said that.” you sigh, shaking your head. “you like me?” he asks, repeating himself. “it doesn’t matter now.. but yes, i do.” you look up at him. “i like you too.” he mutters. “marc we can’t.” you whisper. he takes your hands in his, reassuring you. “she’s gonna have to live with it. not everything is about her, she has to see that.” he scoffs. “don’t say that.” you tell him, rolling your eyes. he shrugs.

bfb! marc, who’s sister you told about him also liking you. she wasn’t so happy to hear about it at first but ‘had to live with it’ just like marc said.

[aerowolf]

the mercs realize it's your bday and you didn't tell anyone because your family doesn't do birthdays

I’m so sorry this is a mess between British and American english. I have an American parent and a Canadian one so it messed me up lolll

if didn't include a Merc you wanted, feel free to request and I'll try and add them :]

includes: Miss Pauling & offense classes

cute platonic, gn!reader

warnings: n/a, this is basically all fluff

You'd rather not make a big deal of it being your birthday, even though it is you were taught that birthdays aren't a big deal and your family never really did them.

You kind of wish someone would care but you feel guilty about that so you choose not to tell anyone about it

The only one of these who actually knows it's your birthday is Miss Pauling, who’s seen your personnel files

Miss Pauling

She knows it's your birthday, and instead of ignoring it she decides to at least discreetly make it a good day for you

She arrives on base for a routine inspection, clipboard in hand, but once she's done with the main thing, instead of leaving, she comes to your room

"I saw that it's your birthday today. I don't know if you celebrate, or anything, but, uh, I thought you'd like a gift. Maybe."

She hands you a box, inside are some candy bars and a plush of a bear

"I know it's not exactly the nicest thing, and I know it's kinda... stereotypical... but, y'know, I thought you'd like something. So, happy birthday. From me.” She’s really shy about it, you get the feeling she didn’t--probably still doesn’t--really get to celebrate birthdays either. 

She offers you a ride on her motorbike, something nice, on the open road--away from this base for a little while. You accept, taking a seat behind her, enjoying the open air--though it is pretty hot out. You guys talk, just enjoying the time.

She smiles at you as you get back. “Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

You thank her and even give her a hug. It’s nice that you got this for once. 

Scout

He has no idea whatsoever that it’s your birthday. He’s interacting with you like usual, teasing you, just hanging out. You’re happy as you talk that day; he’s always good at making you laugh and smile.

At some point he notices that you’re a little down, as much as you may try to hide it, he can tell. You’re his friend, and even though he might act like he doesn’t care sometimes, you know he does. A lot.

You tell yourself you don’t want anything on your birthday, that it’s easier if no one knows, but secretly, you do.

“Hey, what’s up? C’mon, ya know I can tell when something’s wrong.” 

You tell him it’s nothing. 

“You sure? Really? You’re kinda… I dunno, sadder than usual.” After he asks a few times, you finally come out and tell him. You don’t say much. Just “It’s my birthday.”

“No kiddin’? Well, why didn’t ya tell me?” He comes off pretty strong. You feel kind of apologetic for mentioning it, and look away from him. “Aw, hey. Y’know what--it don’t matter. I’m gonna throw you a party like you ain’t never seen, believe me.”

You try to tell him you don’t want a party--well, you do. Maybe. No you don’t. Well, sure. But not a big one. He’s really sweet and enthusiastic about it. “Someone like you deserves a big birthday--but if you don’t want it, dat’s okay. Ya know, we could just hang out, or somethin’. You n’ me, yeah?” 

You tell him you’d like that a lot. You both find a quiet spot in the base where you can just talk. He messes around, too, and pops in a Tom Jones record. 

He’s a little shy, a little embarrassed, but he even sings happy birthday to you. He just seems glad no one can hear him. He doesn’t have a gift handy for you, but he ends up scribbling you a quick doodle of him telling you happy birthday. It’s misspelt, but the drawing is cute, and you keep it. “I hope ya had a good day. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.” You tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how could he have known? 

After all is done, he gives you an awkward hug. You smile and return it.

Soldier

He’s a little crazy so he’s just hanging around base, today he had the idea to strip and cover himself in honey, so everyone has had to convince him to please not do that, and now he’s just moping around, muttering about how anti patriotic this all is.

You sit next to him and mope as well. Unlike him, no one knows the reason you’re moping. To anyone else’s point of view, you’re just comforting him--for whatever weird reason. But he sees that you’re just as sad as him.

“What’s wrong, maggot? Is there someone who needs to see my fists meet their face?”

You tell him no, no one did anything. You’re a little intimidated by him, and you don’t see much reason to tell him anyways. But it’s nice sitting with a friend. 

“If it’s not a person, then… it must be an object! Give it to me and I will destroy it immediately.” He’s being as sweet as he can, you smile and shake your head.

You sit there for a bit, smiling as you watch the other mercs come and go. Today isn’t a bad day, just a little sad. Later, you plan to find some kind of sweet treat to eat alone.

Soldier stands up, at attention, and points at you. “MAGGOT, AS YOUR SUPERIOR AND SENIOR, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!”

With a sad smile and a chuckle you finally tell him.

“Your birthday?” Soldier seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on his chin and thinks. “We cannot go without celebrating! This is momentous!”

Although you try to protest, he turns to the base, stating to every other merc, “LISTEN UP! IT IS Y/N’S BIRTHDAY AND WE WILL CELEBRATE!” 

He makes it his personal mission to decorate for a party that very evening, even gets a cake and everything. He makes every other merc sing happy birthday with him. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

You give him a big hug, and he is surprised at first, but proceeds to give a gentle laugh and hug back.

Pyro

You see Pyro colouring with crayons and coloured pencils on their break, and you sit by them. You don’t really understand what they’re saying a lot of the time, but you enjoy hanging out with them. It’s a long period of silence before you join them in colouring. Regardless of your artistic skills, they’re impressed and encourage you, and are very happy when you show them what you’ve been working on. 

After a little while you get kind of bored and sad. You’ve tried to enjoy this day but it’s another bittersweet birthday. You’re happy to hang out with Pyro though, even though they don’t know what day it is.

Pyro notices that you’ve stopped colouring with them, and that you’re looking at the ground instead, messing with the cracks in the floor.

“Huddah hrmmf mmmrph?” You don’t understand what they’re saying exactly, but you smile at them. They seem to be asking what’s wrong, why you stopped, why you seem so sad.

You hesitate for a moment before finally confessing. They seem to mostly understand what you mean, and they lean back, thinking. 

After a few seconds, they stand up and help pull you off the floor. They point to their room, and you follow them. It’s an odd combination of scorch marks, colourful drawings, weapons, and art supplies. They lead you to a wardrobe and pull out a box. 

Surprisingly, you can see that it's fully wrapped. Did they somehow know it was your birthday? Do they keep these gifts on hand for the mercs?

You won’t get an answer, but they excitedly push it out and offer it to you. “Huddah hmmph!” They sound almost like they are smiling behind the mask. You take the box and open it. It’s got crayons, pencils, and… wow, that’s a drawing of you and them.

You smile, almost ready to tear up, and thank them. You give them a hug, and you notice that they’re hugging you back even harder. Maybe they don’t really understand, but this is sweet.

[satxnsupreme666]

Masterlist in progress…

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Even after all these years

Summary: You´re a witch, your mother was killed by witch-hunters and you end up in New Salem where you meet Agatha, you fall in love with her but what happens when the coven accuses her of practicing dark magic?

I would never hurt you

Summary: You live in Westview and you’re trapped under Wanda’s mind control, Agatha gets closer to you and you fall in love with her, everything was great until you notice some glitches around town, you end up listening to Agnes and Wanda’s discussion at Agnes’ basement about how everything in Westview is fake, heartbroken you try to leave Westview.

Champagne problems

Summary: You loved her too early, she loved you too late, will she be able to change things and make amends for what she did?

Talk to me

Summary: You and Agatha are married and both of you are living in Westview, you start to feel exhausted by the effects of living in Wanda’s illusion and your attitude starts to change.

Between ice cream and love

Summary: You’re the new neighbor in town, and Agnes becomes jealous of you and Wanda’s friendship

Theatrical love

Summary: You’re a witch and just like Agatha you feel the power coming from Westview, you meet her there and she asks you to help her, so you pretend to be a married couple in front of Wanda and the others, you start to fall in love without noticing but what happens when Wanda and her child ask you why you never act like a married couple.

Devil town

Summary: You are the “daughter” of Wanda and Vision and you’re living with them in Westview, problems start to overwhelm you but Agnes is there for you all the time and you fall in love with her.

You don´t need to be alone anymore

Summary: You´re a lonely witch who was never accepted in any coven because everyone was afraid of your dark powers, you got used to live alone for many centuries, but when you meet Agatha in Westview you fall in love with her, you´re scared of getting attached to her so you try to ignore her, but Agatha never gives up.

I almost lost you

Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.

Spell gone wrong

Summary: Agatha gets a magical cold because of a wrong spell and this causes her to sneeze a lot and unconsciously her magic changes some things, you decide to take care of her until Wanda comes to ask for help.

Down by the river side

Summary: Back in the 1600´s you live with your parents in the forest, near Agatha’s coven. You always go to the river down your house to feel a little bit of peace from all the yelling and the abuse of your parents, you think you´re alone until one day you see Agatha on the other side of the river looking at you and since that day, she keeps coming to look for you.

You fall for her and she falls for you, she worries when one day you don’t arrive at your special place, so she goes to look for you, ready to save you from your parents.

Would you run away with her?

Let me help you

Summary: You´re feeling under the weather but you try to hide it, Agatha/Agnes notices this and she takes care of you.

Stronger than you think

Summary: Everyone is now free from Wanda´s mind control as well as you and now that you´re not Agnes´ secret lover, Agatha asks you out on a real date because she´s smitten by you, but in the middle of the date your ex shows up to bother you and Agatha shows her protective side.

Golden

Summary: You´re Agatha´s girlfriend and you come to Westview with her, but something goes wrong and you end up trapped in the sitcom, all you know now is that you´re Agnes´ friend and you have a crush on her, can a song help you remember your real life?

Immortal

Summary: Agatha is immortal and she fell in love with you when she was still in the coven, she lost you in the past but even when you reincarnated in different periods of time and in different countries, she always found you again and again because she promised herself she would always find you, and this time is not going to be different, she kept falling in love with your soul every time.

You don´t know her

Summary: You’re an avenger and you’re dating Agatha Harkness, but none of the avengers know that, Wanda and Natasha are the ones who are more worried since you´re like their daughter, so all of them make a reunion to know who’s your secret date and they decide to spy on you, what will happen when they discover that you’re dating a “villain”?

Tainted love

Summary: You´re living an unhappy marriage with Wanda and your neighbor Agnes decides to help you to get away from the person who makes you suffer.

I won´t say I´m in love

Summary: You arrived at Westview with your best friend Wanda to try to start a new life, but the thing is that you didn’t know a certain witch that you had met centuries ago was already living in the town, you don´t want to accept you still have feelings for her, Agatha keeps trying to talk to you, and Wanda seeing the situation decides to make a plan to get the two of you to talk to each other.

Kind of woman

Summary:  Agatha feels guilty about what happened to Alice, so you go to look for her, only to realize she is drowning on mud, you help her to get out of the mud and to clean herself, would she be able to understand that you do not blame her for anything?

Rio Vidal x Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Torn apart, bound together

Summary: You met Agatha when she arrived at Westview looking for the source of power, she got closed to you at first with the idea of only getting to Wanda as you seemed to be close to the scarlet witch, what Agatha had not waited for, was that the more she passed time with you, the more her feelings became real, she had fallen for you, even harder than you had done for her, but when Wanda´s hex was destroyed, Agatha absorbed your powers, awful things were said, you were left alone with no one left and with you heart completely broken.

3 years later, when Agatha is released from Wanda´s spell, you were released at the same time, not knowing what had happened during those years and thinking that only some days have passed, or weeks, you find yourself alone one more time, with the images and memories of what had happened, fresh as if it had only happened some days ago, Agatha finds you and wants to fix things, however, now powerless and with the Salem seven behind her, she feels conflicted whether to fix everything or risk everything and lose you again.

Rio had met you many years ago, even before you and Agatha met, you were not aware at the time,  you were almost unconscious, but when she had seen your eyes, she became captivated by you, she broke the rules for you, and even if you would never knew who she was, she was happy she had not taken you with her, she watched you from afar, always watching over you, but never daring to break the rules again and go near you, now having you in front of her, she wants to protect you and Agatha, so she helps you to understand why Agatha is the way she is, as well as helping Agatha to understand your pain.

Will the three of you get to understand each other´s feelings in order to heal from the past? Will the three of you be ready to face your feelings and understand what love is really about?

Love in the darkest hour

Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.

I love you, it’s ruining my life

Summary: Agatha cares for you deeply, she loves you, but her fears stop her from revealing the real feelings she has for you, the only way she knows how to cope with her own feelings is by using sarcasm and from time to time say something mean.

Rio developed feelings for you while watching over Agatha and you during the three years you had stayed with her to take care of the the blue-eyed witch who was under Wanda’s spell, Rio doesn’t like the way Agatha treats you just because she doesn’t know how to deal with her feelings.

Can Rio and the coven help Agatha realize that her actions and comments are not only hurting her but she’s also hurting you in the process? Can Rio help Agatha realize that love doesn’t have to make anyone suffer?

Rio Vidal x fem!reader

Angel of life, lover of Death

Summary: For many witches and many people you were an angel, a life saver, a light in the middle of darkness, even a goddess you had been called, helping and saving so many witches and humans, always stopping them from facing death, you were known as the “Angel of life” everyone knew that if someone was fighting for their life, you would be the only one capable of helping them not to cross that line between life and death, bur for someone specifically, you had only been an obstacle, always interfering, stopping her from completing her job.

“Death” or Rio Vidal, as she had told you to call her, had presented herself one day in front of you, annoyed that you did not let her do her job and collect the bodies she so much wanted, she started to visit you more frequently, until the two of you fell in love, one day after you were brutally attacked and about to die, you woke up alone and wounded, you only knew, you were supposed to die, but you didn’t, waiting for Rio to come back, she never did, you waited for her for years, and she never came back, leaving you heartbroken and angry.

After many centuries, you see her again at the witches’ road, would she be able to explain what happened or are you going to keep her pushing away because of your anger and pain?

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Coming soon…

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Wanda Maximoff x Agatha Harkness ✩ Wandagatha x fem!reader

Blooming flowers

Summary: You own the flower shop in Westview, you’re a good friend of Wanda and Agatha, who would have said you were going to fall for them.

Flowers and their meanings are beautiful, even if they are growing inside your lungs.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Coming soon…

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Natasha Romanoff x wanda Maximoff ✩ Wandanat x fem!reader

Coming soon…

[hotchfiles]

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 

      “Honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 

      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 

      “No, babe, why d’you ask?” 

      “You’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on Ritalin yet lately.” His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 

      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 

      “I haven’t told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “Difficult.” 

      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “We could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” He suggests, always the problem solver. 

      “It would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 

      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “And my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” You nod quietly. “Alright. Don’t call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.” 

      You groan, “She will complain about that too…”

      “Once they’re here.” He kisses your forehead, “So it’s only one,” and your nose, “Night,” your right cheek, “Of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “Complaining.” Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

      You get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiancé, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. His hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.

      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.

      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didn’t want Jack to go through what he had as a child.

      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 

      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

      Your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 

      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaron’s idea, of course. 

      “He always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “Even Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.

      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… You.  

      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossi’s sauce recipe. 

      “Hers is great, why does she need mine?” Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, Dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “Anything else?”

      “I need a favor as well. I’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. “I know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” He’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 

      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 

      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 

      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off. 

      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

      “I’m not sure about that one, Jack-Jack…” You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “If I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act. 

      “No Google, buddy, sorry.” Jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 

      “Told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—” You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaron’s watch getting to Jack’s eyes, “I’m sleepy.” 

      “You can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 

      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 

      “Enjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 

      “Yeah? I’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” You and Jack both laugh at him. It’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 

      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 

      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “I’m just finishing this up, babyy—” Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “Go eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!”

      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 

      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

      “I love you. I love our little family.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

      You don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

      The second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple “If anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. You’re forgetful. You’re not maternal. You worry about work too much.

      You’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—Aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. He’s trying to be polite. “We take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.”

      It’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 

      But for now he settles on being polite. There’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 

      At least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + part two

authors note: wasn't expecting so many of you to be interested in this! but, you were, and now here we are! 😅 there will definitely be a final part 3 to this, btw.

words: 3.1k

part one

gif belongs to @romanreigns

warnings: angst, argument between parent and child, things get a tad bit physical....

Nova has always enjoyed and cherished Roman being home. For a lot of reasons. Many of them obvious, like the fact that he’s her husband, the man she loves, the man she wants to be around. Or even just the relief that comes with having another adult in the home to help out with the girls while she works. 

So him having time off work the past few months really has made a difference. For her. For their marriage. And especially for his relationship with their young daughters.

If only the same could be said for his relationship with their firstborn.

Which is exactly what she plans to tackle when he walks back in the room after putting the girls down for bed.

“How many stories did they sucker out of you?”

Roman chuckles at the first question he’s hit with as soon as he returns from bedtime duties. “Only three this time.”

She smiles, watching him close the door and walk over to where she sits on her knees in the middle of the bed. “Park must have worn them out.”

He makes a sound, starting to eye her up and down. Nova knows that look. Knows it far too well. It’s the same look that most likely led to both her pregnancies with their middle and youngest. “Speaking of wearing out…..”

She rolls her eyes when he reaches for her chin, lifting her head. “We need to talk.”

“Not gonna lie, not really in the mood for talking. Not with this little piece you got on….” He gestures to the thin sleep dress that shows off her breast and hardened nipples that are stretched against the cotton. 

“Too bad.” She ignores him, patting the spot beside her. “Come on.”

The scowl on his face is comical, similar to any of the kids when they’ve just been told something they don’t want to hear. “It better be important.”

“It is,” she promises. One of the most important things in his life. 

Roman looks at her, gaze shifting into something suspicious. “You pregnant?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Roman, I’m not pregnant.” Nova taps her upper forearm. “Remember? We made sure that doesn’t happen again. At least not without being planned.” He looks both relieved and torn. Relatable. Neither of them necessarily want any more children, but they also wouldn’t be upset if it happened. “Besides, we need to focus on the ones we have. Starting with Junior.”

And instantly, she knows she’s lost his interest. “Not this again—”

“Yes, this again.” She stresses, borderline irritated that he’s irritated that she wants to discuss his abysmal relationship with their firstborn. “He’s your son, Roman. You need to fix your relationship with him.”

“Nova, we both know that boy doesn't want anything to do with me.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”

He runs his hands through his hair, expressing 100% disagreement. “He acts like he hates me or something.”

Though it’s said with surface level irritation, Nova knows her husband well. Has known him since they were teenagers, so it’s relatively easy for her to see through his facade. His statement holds a lot of hurt.

A lot of pain.

“He doesn’t, baby,” she comforts, reaching to push back some of his hair. He has it down, free and wavy just how she prefers it. “He’s just—-he……he feels like he can’t talk to you.”

Roman is quick to object. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“No, he doesn’t want to talk to you if you’re not going to listen to him, and you don’t sometimes, Roman.”

Nova loves her husband as much as she’s certain he loves her, but he can be hard headed and stubborn. Borderline arrogant, especially when he believes he’s right. A hard person to deal with. At times, at least.

She watches the way Roman’s shoulders relax a bit as he lets down some of his walls, admitting, “I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did.”

Nova moves and hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder. “I get that, babe, but he’s going to make mistakes, regardless, because he’s a kid. That’s how they learn.”

“But, why should I just sit here and watch my son go down the same road I did if I can avoid it?”

And herein lies the main issue from what Nova has been able to see. The vastly different stances the two men in her life have regarding one of their futures. RJ wants to enter the NFL draft next year, wants to get started on his career now rather than later. Believes that’s the best route for him. Roman, however, wants his son to finish school and then declare for the draft. 

To avoid having the tough experiences Roman had in not getting drafted and being added and cut from team to team, putting the family in financial difficulties because of inconsistent income. Roman couldn’t even provide for his family at that time, a devastating feeling for anyone, let alone a man.

RJ, clearly, is in a different boat. Regardless, with no college degree, Roman didn’t have much to lean back on. He doesn’t want that for his son.

If only Junior saw it that way.  

“Because you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She sighs, sharing her own thoughts. “I don’t disagree with you, Roman. I think he should stay and finish school and then enter the draft too, but I can’t make that decision for him, and neither can you.”

“So we just let him make bad decisions? Is that what you’re saying?” She closes her eyes. Here they go. “Fuck that. I know you like to be his friend, but you’re not, Nova. You’re his mother, and you need to act like it.”

“Excuse me?” She moves away, removing her arms from around him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t like confrontation, so you avoid it by any means, even if it means upholding his bad behavior.”

Nova doesn’t really get angry or let things affect her much. Unless it comes to her family. To her kids. And Roman happens to be picking at that soft spot. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make it seem like I’m a bad mother for supporting our son.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not everything needs to be supported.”

“And not everything needs to be judged either.” She shakes her head, climbing off the bed. “This is the shit I’m talking about. It’s like I can’t even talk to you anymore.” Nova heads for their bathroom, already over this conversation. She loves Roman, but sometimes, she can’t stand him.

And this is gradually turning into one of those times. 

Roman is hot on her heels, standing in the doorway as she starts to pull out her skincare items. “See, you’re proving my point. You’re walking away.”

She turns to him, explaining boldly. “I’m walking away because I don’t want to argue with you. I’m tired of that, and you should be too, which is why I’m trying to get you to make peace with your only son.”

Of course, he continues playing the victim, going along with his swan song. “Why should I have to do it? Why should I have to apologize for looking out for him? For being his father?”

“He doesn’t see it that way, Roman. He sees it as you being controlling.”

“No, he just doesn’t want anyone telling him what to do.”

Nova scoffs, grabbing her face cream, twisting off the cap. “Wonder where he gets that from.”

She doesn’t have to be looking at him to know he’s scowling. “He’s not a little boy anymore. You need to stop fucking babying him all the time.”

At that, her head snaps in his direction. “Excuse me?” Again, poking the bear. “I don’t baby him. I make myself available for him emotionally. Lord knows, you don’t.”

“He doesn’t want me—”

Nova slams the jar down on the counter, turning to him. “What does he want, Roman? Huh?” She places one hand on the counter and the other on her hip. “When’s the last time you even asked him?”

He looks away, jaw clenched, and she knows she’s got him. Knows that he has no retort for that. Not a good one, at least. 

“You know what, I’m done asking you to do shit.” She steps toward him, all of the weight and stress of this situation evident in both her expression and voice. “I’m telling you to make things right with our son.”

Nova takes his hands in hers. “I love you, but I love our children more.” She swallows, emotion betraying her, eyes watering. “And if it ever came to it where it’s between them and you….I choose them every time.”

—--------

“We need to talk.”

Nova is barely back in the kitchen after getting the girls down for bed when the smile is easily wiped off her previously happy face. She glances over at her husband and then her son, both standing on separate sides of the kitchen island. She can tell RJ was about to head out, clearly uninterested in staying beyond his attendance for Sunday family dinner.

A part of her wants to cut in, wants to suggest that maybe they do this another time. Maybe over lunch between the two of them. Someplace where they’re less likely to have an epic blowout.

But, it’s too late.

RJ visibly tenses at Roman’s statement. An obvious reaction given the fact that rarely do good things follow those four infamous words. 

“About?” 

“You still planning to enter the draft?”

RJ shrugs. “Yeah.”

Roman is quiet for a second, stroking his beard. “You know that’s stupid, right?”

Nova closes her eyes. Such a great start. “Roman.”

RJ, however, just smiles and crosses his arms. “Of course, you think it’s stupid. Not like anyone else can have a good idea if it didn’t come from you.”

Roman ignores that, instead suggesting, “you need to finish school first. Get your degree.”

“Why?” RJ’s nose is turned up in disgust. “We all know I’m locked in to be a first round pick.”

“That’s what you think. It’s not guaranteed.” Roman objects, advising, “don’t get too cocky.”

At that, RJ looks like he wants to laugh. “You’re telling me that?” He scoffs. “You’re the last one to talk.”

“Junior.” Nova scolds, now standing almost directly next to Roman. “I think what your dad is trying to say—”

“How much longer you think I’m gonna keep putting up with your disrespectful ass mouth, huh?” Roman cuts her off, and Nova finds herself reaching over to grab his hand. His tone alone tells her his anger is spiking, and that’s never a good thing. Especially right now. “Keep it up.”

And the situation is only made worse when Junior starts to laugh. Nova closes her eyes. This is not what she meant when she told Roman to make things right.

He’s doing the exact opposite. 

Roman’s nose is flared, his voice tight as he he asks, “what’s so fucking funny?”

“You.” RJ doesn’t hesitate to answer, hands flat on the granite as he leans over the island. “How all of a sudden you wanna be my dad. How you all of a sudden wanna act like you care about me. Act like you care about my future. Act like you didn’t miss almost, if not all, of my games when I was growing up.”

Nova’s stomach is starting to twist and knot. “RJ—”

But, he only continues. Pain and anger meshing and forming into a dangerous combination. “Mama was there. Every game. You weren’t.” Nova glances over at Roman and sees the same mix of feelings from their son in him. “You weren’t there for me then, so you don’t get to be there for me now.” 

Closing her eyes, she does her best to quickly try to figure out what’s the best thing to say. To try to defuse this situation that’s clearly much deeper than she could have ever realized. 

But, Roman is faster. “You act like I was this piece of shit dad who was never around at all.” And just like with her son, she sees and hears it with the senior of the two. Anger and hurt. And pride. “I had to work to provide for you and your mother. You don’t get to throw that shit in my face when you’re older and use it to play the victim.”

Neither. Neither of them clearly know how to communicate without slinging mud. Without sharing how they feel minus the petty jabs and cheap shots. 

RJ only scoffs, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever.”

Roman leans his head back and rolls his shoulder. “RJ, I’m telling you right now, you leave school early and shit doesn’t work out, I’m cutting you off.”

Nova would have loved to have seen her son’s reaction to that, but she’s too busy looking at her husband with all the shock instead. They never discussed that. And she’s pissed off that he would even bring it up without even consulting her about it.

“Roman, you’re being—”

He ignores her, continuing to direct his warning to their son. “You wanna act grown. You can deal with whatever those consequences are.”

RJ shakes his head, Nova finally looking over at him. She can see it. So much hurt. “So what, I don’t do what you want, and I don’t get to be your son anymore?”

Roman snaps, raising his voice. “You don’t want to be my son now, so what fucking difference does it make?” 

“Roman!” She can’t believe he would say that, can’t believe he could ever fix his mouth to express such a thing to his own flesh and blood. It turns her stomach a little bit. Truly. “Don’t say—”

“It’s alright, mama. That’s who he is. It’s who he’s always been.” The betrayal is seeping through as RJ directs his comment toward her instead of Roman who only continues to look with that same combination of heavy emotions. “I don’t even know why you're still with him” Nova is already at a loss for words at how bad this has gotten, but nothing could have prepared her for what he says next. “Should have left his ass the minute you found out he cheated on you.”

Silence.

Nova’s gaze switches to Roman who seems just as taken back as she feels. How RJ is aware of this, she has no idea. Nor does she know just how much he knows about what really occurred and the complexity of the situation. But, that’s neither here nor there. Because she’s got a whole other issue to handle that’s created with Roman’s next statement. 

“Get the hell out of my house.”

Her eyes snap shut again. 

Shit.

She reaches for his arm. “Roman….”

“No!” He snaps. At her. At RJ. At the situation as a whole that’s reached a higher level of disaster than she could have ever anticipated. “He thinks he knows every fucking thing. Wants to be a man. So let him be a fucking man!”

This is not what their son needs. Far from it. “Roman!”

“Naw, he’s right, mama! I don’t need him!” Her attention switches to her son, who much like his father, is doing a damn good job hiding his hurt at this entire thing. Hiding the open, gaping emotional wound. “I can take care of myself!”

“So do it!” Roman continues, completely honed in on his emotions instead of the logic Nova is trying to desperately instill and impart on them both right now. “Get your own fucking car! Pay your own fucking tuition!” 

“I will!” He yells back. “Acting like this your house when everybody knows mama was the one taking care of your broke ass and everything else until your career kicked off!”

“RJ! That is enough.” All of this has gone too far. “I know you’re upset, but he’s still your fath—”

“He’s nothing to me!” Nova feels like she’s in some sort of simulated reality. One where every single one of her worst fears comes to life and haunts her. Or, maybe that would be more enjoyable than this. “He’s just a narcissistic ass—”

Nova has never had fast reflexes. Ever. Two left feet, poor hand eye coordination. The whole nine yards, but there’s nothing slow about the way in which she jumps in front of Roman who starts to lunge toward their son with nothing good in mind.

Nothing good at all.

“No!” She shouts, hands on his chest, knowing that it’s certainly not her strength restraining him. It’s the fact that he clearly doesn’t want to hurt her. “Roman, no! Please!”

“Let him go! Let him do it!”

“RJ! Shut up now!” Nova snaps, directing some of her own simmering anger to her son. She feels for him, sees the hurt hiding behind the anger, but enough is enough. He’s out of line. 

“Why?” He continues. And Nova is really starting to wonder if he took something, because this is not the son she knows. The child she raised. She never taught or allowed him to be this disrespectful. “You know I’m right! Even uncle Jey said it! Dad is a bit—”

Nova is barely able to process what’s happening until she’s stumbling to the side, Roman having bypassed her. She’s only able to see the moment he shoves RJ who stumbles and falls back, just not on the ground. 

No. A single, small cry pierces the air and causes all three of them to pause, even if for the briefest second.

“Mommy!” Arabella’s cry of pain is slightly muffled under RJ’s heavy body as he quickly moves to roll off his little sister whose face is turned up in pain, her arms reaching out for a source of comfort.

Roman looks devastated. RJ is mortified, and Nova can only rush over to her daughter, quickly lifting and holding her, gently cradling her head as Bella cries into her.

“Mom, I’m sor—”

“No!” Nova snaps. Enough. She’s just had enough. “Both of you get the hell out of my house!”

Roman swallows and steps forward, eyes focused on Bella’s little body as she sobs into Nova’s neck. “Bella—”

“I said I want you out!” She reaffirms, stepping toward her son whose anger has melted away into a stirring pot of guilt. “You come back when you find your goddamn brain.” Angling her body toward her husband, to the man she’s spent so much of her formative years and life with, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust. “And you?” Nova is almost certain she feels the moment her heart breaks as she says those infamous words. “Don’t come back at all.”

[enkvyu]

3:36pm — gojo satoru;

perhaps it's because gojo has never needed to drive, that makes him so bad at it.

you clutch the handle on the car door with a deathly grip as gojo manhandles the steering wheel, a cheerful tune on his lips. one elbow rested on an open window, the other casually caressing the wheel, his feet playing toesies with both the brake and the accelerator, you wonder if this was the end for you. at least he was wearing his sunglasses today.

what kind of confidence allows him to drive one handed, you wonder, but the thought is quickly rammed into the crevices of your mind as the car takes another sudden turn. you think you vaguely hear gojo hum a quick "oops, almost missed the exit!" but you'd rather believe he didn't.

you can't even focus on the scenery as it darts past the window, but it looks akin to something from a scifi film when an eager cast of space pilots jump a wormhole. except you’re neither an astronaut nor in space, you’re just an unfortunate soul stuck in a car driven by your best friend.

"that wasn't so bad." gojo chuckles, sparing getou and shoko a glance through the mirror.

"was that the grim reaper i saw around that past corner?" shoko asks, holding her cigarette with a shaky hand. you've never seen her tremble like that before.

"you saw it too?" getou groans, almost taking up the entire space in the backseat as he was previously relocated when gojo decided to take up the challenge of tackling an intersection. "my whole body is sweating. i don’t think i’ve ever sweated this hard in my life"

"don't get your gross germs in my car. and shoko, where did the cigarette come from? didn't i tell you no smoking inside?" gojo complains. his eyes flicker back on his best friend as he doesn’t receive an answer. "i'm being serious, getou, don't sweat on my car, i just got it today!"

"so why are you testing fate with every corner?" your words raise an octave as you look forward again, gojo's car swerving around another one incoming. "gojo, watch out!"

the driver’s face through the tinted window of the other car reflects your own as they barely skim the encounter. an angry voice pokes out from the window but the noise is lost as gojo drives on, completely unfazed.

a series of beeps chase after gojo’s car, and amidst the chaos, was that a siren? the right side of the car flies up as gojo rides over the curb before settling harshing back on the asphalt road. he glances over his shoulder and mutters: “who put a tree in the middle of the road?” under his breath.

your fingers dig into the car door. they hover over the handle, ready to flick it open and jump out.

"eyes on the road!" getou calls from the back.

"my parents told me it's impolite to not look the person you're talking to in the eye!" gojo all but sings.

"let me out." shoko says quietly, and when she's ignored she says it again. "gojo, let me out!"

"you're driving on the wrong side!” your shriek comes out unprepared. “move over the line!"

"it's a double line, that's illegal."

"are you serious? tell me you're not serious. hurry up and move, there's a car coming!"

“i think we’re being chased!”

"stop the car, i want out!"

"we're not even at the school yet, i can't stop now."

someone had to stop him.

"gojo!" you scream. "i want to stop by the convenience store, stop the damn car!"

he glances over at you and you really wish he didn't, because he has to spin the wheel a whole 360 and more to miss a parked car. "why didn't you say so? of course we can stop. now that you mention it, i'm craving icecream."

"i'll get you all the icecream you want if you could just pull over." getou offers from the back. glancing back, you see a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"getou, your sweat." you sob and he hastily rubs it away.

"i'm sorry gojo, please don't keep driving because of this."

gojo huffs. "i already said i was stopping. why is everyone acting so weird today?"

the car revs, swerves and spins completely around, throwing you out of your seat. “i saw a store back this way.” the driver says.

getou dominos over on top of shoko who can no longer vocally complain as her throat was seized by fear. you look over at the maniac who caused this situation and realise it was him making the woop woop! noise. you had thought you were hallucinating.

gojo approaches the carpark, yet to everyone's dismay he doesn't slow. "trust me guys, i saw this move in a dream." when no one says anything, he decides its because he needs to clarify. "it was prophetic."

the car continues, accelerates even, as he beelines towards a single parking slot sandwiched between two other cars. there's no way, you think, but gojo was always about doing the impossible. was that shoko praying in the backseat? you didn’t realise she was religious.

just as you were sure you were going to crash, gojo spins the wheel, jerking the car around before reversing straight into the parking slot.

your head slams against the headrest painfully before being forcefully yanked upwards again. the momentum knocks the air out of your lungs and you gasp. distantly, you hear getou groan in pain and when you look back, you find shoko on the floor.

"so?" gojo turns to smile at you, brightly. "how was it?"

you smile back and throw up all over him.

[sunny44]

Co-parenting (Part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex wife!reader

Warnings: Carlos being a bitch, fighting and maybe other things.

Summary: Co-parenting is never easy but y/n never though it would be so hard.

Next Chapter

Carlos and I got divorced 2 years ago, and currently, we share custody of our daughter, which means I have her since Carlos travels a lot due to racing, so every weekend he’s free, he comes and picks up Maeve.

But this time I had a very unpleasant surprise.

Being famous, I was always aware of what was happening with Carlos, even if I didn’t want to, and a few months ago, rumors came out that he was with some model, and when we separated, we made an agreement that any person who entered romantically into our lives, we would introduce to each other before involving that person in our daughter’s life.

But it seems Carlos had a problem when it comes to him.

I crossed my arms watching Carlos and the model girlfriend get out of the car and come towards my door, besides not notifying me about it, he simply brought her along without any prior discussion or approval.

The doorbell rang, and I walked to the front door, and there were Carlos and Rebecca, both trying to look welcoming and unconcerned.

“Hi, Y/n,” Carlos said, smiling. “How are you?”

“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the two of them.

“What do you mean?”

“You demand an agreement, and when it comes to you, you simply ignore it.” He took a deep breath.

“I know, but we’ve been dating for a while, and I thought it was time for you to meet her.”

“Meet her?” Y/n’s voice trembled with frustration. “You can’t make this decision alone, Carlos. We are her parents, and this should be a decision we make together, not something you just think is a good idea and ignore the fact that I am her mother.”

Rebecca stepped forward, with a gentle voice.

“Y/n, I really just want to get to know her. I’m not trying to replace you.”

And my frustration only intensified.

“It’s not about replacing me. It’s about us making decisions together for our daughter, and that doesn’t involve you being here.” Carlos sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to make you uncomfortable. Let’s talk about this, okay?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk?”

“Can you stop being so difficult? She’s my daughter too.”

“Then start acting like a father instead of going around kissing models in clubs and then bringing them to my doorstep.”

“I am a father when I can be because my life is very busy, and you knew that when we had her.” He says arms crossed. “Maybe you should stop being a terrible mother making me lose the little time I have with my daughter, and then we talk about it.”

“Carlos.” Rebecca speaks as he finishes.

“You know what, if anyone here is a terrible parent, it’s you who prefers to spend your weekends in a car racing in circles and risking leaving your daughter without a father. I’m here every day doing the best I can to take care of her, but apparently, that makes me a terrible mother, so I’ll call her and you do whatever you want since it’s always been like this.”

I enter the house holding back my tears and go call her, she was so excited to see her dad that she didn’t even notice the tension between us, and I thanked god for that.

He tried to talk to me before leaving, but I just said goodbye to Maeve and closed the door, but I couldn’t help but notice that Rebecca wasn’t there anymore.

…

Hours passed and when the end of the day came, I heard the noise of his car, so I went to the door, and when I opened it, she came running.

“Mom, look.” She said showing me a bag full of things. “I’ll show you everything after I take a shower and have dinner.”

“Okay, my love, go ahead.” She smiles, says goodbye to him, and goes to her room.

“Can we talk?”

“No, I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried to close the door, but he held it. “You’ve already said what you think of me, and I’ve already said what I think of you; I don’t think we have anything else to say.”

“What I said is not what I really think.”

“In fact, it is, at least part of you thinks that way, and I’m not going to take back what I said about you because I think that way. I know it’s your career, but I won’t admit that you break our rule, tell me I’m a terrible mother, and then come back wanting to apologize.” He doesn’t say anything. “You don’t know how hard it is to see the guy you loved more than anything with someone else, but especially to see the father of your daughter say that you’re a terrible mother even though I work really hard to give her the best life I can.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That won’t fix things this time, Carlos.” I say looking into his eyes. “You don’t do anything to make my life easier; you show up, do your fatherly duty for a weekend while I stay here dealing with everything else. I don’t have the option of having only the easy parts of having a child. I have to deal with the pressure of being a single mother, having to hide from her every time I need to cry because I can’t take it anymore doing this alone, or having to leave her with my parents because I can’t even get out of bed to take care of her while you’re out there sticking your tongue down supermodels’ throats.”

“I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“And how would you know? You’re never here.” He doesn’t say anything. “I don’t need anything from you, not anymore. The time when I needed you here has passed, and I hope it never comes back.”

“Is everything okay, mommy?” Maeve asks appearing on the stairs, having taken a shower and wearing pajamas.

“Yes, my love, what do you want to eat?” I say wiping my tears.

“I want nuggets with veggies.”

“Okay, so let’s make them.”

“Are you going to have dinner here, daddy?”

“No, my love, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“But don’t you have to go travel?”

“I do, but not now.”

“Okay.” She goes to him and then comes back to the table. “I’ll really come to pick her up tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.” He leaves, and I lock everything.

“Mommy, where are you?” She screams from the kitchen.

“I’m coming baby.”

I’m not sure if I’ll write a part 2 but if you guys want another part, let me know.

[poetlus]

“SIBLING RIVALRY” — katsuki bakugo & sibling!reader

SYNOPSIS: after being away from home, katsuki comes back for winter break. he reunites with his sibling, y/n, who’s missed him. when he realizes how bad him leaving affected y/n, he makes a proposal.

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

A/N: requested!! i wish i could find the blog to tag them, but i lost it :( im so sorry. hopefully u see this requester, cus i really enjoyed writing it!! proofread by @sepptember & @lemkay-luminary :)

“Mom, when is Katsuki coming back?” You asked as you took a nibble of the snack in your hand. You’re both on the couch, sitting arms length apart.

“It should be some time tomorrow, what with New Year’s and all. If that kid doesn’t come to see us for the holiday, I swear he’s gonna get it the next time I see him.” You giggled at your mom’s response, making her laugh too.

“I miss him, ma.” You say as you bring your knees to your chest.

“Me too. Miss that kid like crazy.” She brings you closer to her, rubbing your back.

“He’s, like, my inspiration, y’know. I wanna be a hero just like him.”

“Meh, maybe without all the yelling? He’s gonna give civilians a serious headache if he doesn’t cut that out.” You giggled again, this time in agreement with your mom. You leaned your head on your mothers shoulder, her pajama shirt acting as a pillow. You yawned, thinking about your childhood with Katsuki. It was always filled with laughter and banter. You hoped nothing would change when he came back, although it was very likely that things would. After all, you're both getting older, you’re both maturing. Change was inevitable. After almost drifting off to sleep multiple times, you finally decided it was time for bed.

When you woke up the next morning, it was a little after 7am. You didn’t expect to wake up this early, but you figured it was just your body’s way of telling you that you were excited to see your brother.

You got up and started your morning routine. You took a shower, made some breakfast, and then scrolled on your phone until about 9.

Then, you heard your front door open.

“Katsuki!” You heard your parents exclaim. You shot up from your bed and raced down the hall, nearly slipping on a carpet and crashing into the corner of a wall.

“Holy crap, it’s really you!” You shouted when your eyes fell on your brother. You ran up to him and acted like you were going in for a hug. Right before you made contact with him, you smacked his arm. Hard.

“Why haven’t you been responding to my texts?! Is it that busy at UA? Surely you have some time to respond, so why is it that I’m constantly on delivered?? You think you’re too good to text me back, now that you’re almost a pro-hero? Is that it?!” You barked.

“Quit hounding me, will ya?!” Your brother shouted back, smacking your arm back. You jumped back and rubbed the tender spot.

“Hey! That hurt, you ass!”

“Yeah?! Good! I wouldn’t have smacked you if you didn’t hit me first!”

“Well I wouldn’t have smacked you if you had just responded to my texts!”

Your sibling banter went on for another minute, your mom finally tearing the two of you apart.

“God dammit, you kids are no different than when Katsuki was living here! Can’t you just get along?!” The two of you glared at your mom, who was glaring right back— as if she was daring one of you to say something.

“We missed you, Katsuki.” Your dad said from the kitchen, breaking the semi-awkward silence.

“Missed you too, dad.” Bakugo grumbled. He then pushed past you and went to his room, you followed him.

Once you reached his room, you leaned against the doorframe as he set his bag down.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

“Listen, I’ve just been caught up in hero work, okay? I’m not meaning to ignore you. I always am thinking about you, mom, and dad. You know that— don’t be dumb.” Another awkward quietness fell over the room.

“How’s it here without me?” He asked you.

“It’s really quiet. Kinda unnerving, not gonna lie. It’s like…too quiet. How’s it at UA?”

“It’s good. The dorms are good. The guy I have a room next to is like, my friend or whatever. How’s school?”

“Ooh, a friend? What’s his name? Is he cute?”

“His names Kirishima, and no. He has the weirdest hair I’ve ever seen.”

“Do you have a picture?”

“No. Shut up.”

“Ugh, you suck. Have you met any real pros?”

“Duh, a bunch. My teachers Erasurehead— I’ve even met All Might.”

“Woah, no way! How’s that?? Is he as cool in person?!”

“Hell yeah he is.” Bakugo smirked. “You never answered my question.” He looked up at you from his spot on the bed.

“What question?”

“How’s school?” His brow furrowed, as if he felt like he was being tricked.

“Oh,” You huffed slightly. “It’s okay. Boring.”

“Yeah? You make any friends at least?”

“Um.. yeah I guess.”

“You guess? Whatdya mean you guess?”

“I dunno..” You looked like you were going to keep talking, but you stopped yourself.

“Gettin’ good grades?” Katsuki changed the subject. “Ya can’t get into UA without good grades.”

“Mhm,” Katsuki sighed.

“What’s with the dry responses, assface? You were so bubbly just now when we were talking about me.” he, clearly frustrated with your change in demeanor.

“It’s nothing, dickwad,” You returned his energy back, but then quieted down again. “I just feel like we aren’t as close anymore. Ever since you got into UA, you’ve changed so much. You’re a lot more…serious. Not like when you were living here. And now, especially when you’re in the dorms, we’re even further from you. It’s like you’re gettin’ to be a stranger.” You quickly realized how much you confessed and stiffened up.

“But— but forget about it! I don’t care that much anyways.” You turned around and began to walk out of Katsuki’s room, the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks warming quicker than you expected.

As you stepped foot out of your brother’s room, you heard his voice.

“Hey, come back!” You stopped and turned around. “What makes you say that, huh? I’m not a stranger, I’m your brother. I’m always gonna be with you.”

“What makes me say that is the fact that you left me here. I don’t have anybody to talk to when I don’t want to talk to mom or dad. I’m alone, Katsuki.”

Your brother sighed and motioned you to come sit beside him on his bed. When you did, he wrapped an arm around you to bring you closer to him.

“I know I left you. You think I don’t feel bad about that?” You were quiet as tears began to blur your vision. “I think about you every day. I really do mean it when I say I’m too busy to respond, but I am thinking about you. The whole reason I left is because I’m thinking about you. Saving you, protecting you, being your hero.” A tear formed in your eye and fell onto your leg.

“Quit cryin, you big loser.” He took his arm off of you and playfully bumped your shoulder.

“I love you Katsuki.” You said as you wiped your tears and sniffled.

“I love you too, kid.” your brother’s words were soft spoken and gentle. “I’ll make you a deal.” You perked up in confusion, the tears from before quickly drying up.

“If you promise— and I mean cross your heart— that you won’t embarrass me in front of my friends, I’ll talk to Mr. Aizawa about bringing you to UA for a day. You can babysit Eri or something.”

“What?! You mean it?!” You gasped lightly.

“Only if you promise!” He shouted.

“I promise, I promise! Cross my heart!” You yelled back, gesturing to the right side of your chest.

“Alright.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day with your parents, eating a delicious home cooked meal and spending quality time together. Once it got dark, the four of you all retreated to your rooms after a long day. You were watching a movie when you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/N,” Katsuki’s muffled voice said.

“What?” You called from the other side of the door.

“Can I stay the night in here?” He opened it, revealing him in his black band tee and plaid pajama pants. You smiled.

“Sure, but I’m not giving up my bed. You can sleep on the floor.” He huffed, unsatisfied with your answer.

“But your bed’s so comfortable! You got the memory foam mattress!” He whined.

“Too bad, so sad. Take it or leave it, stupid.” Katsuki sighed and walked towards you, flopping onto your bed anyways.

“No! Katsuki, get off!” You shouted as you realized what was happening too late. You attempted to push him off of your bed, but to no avail. He was staying on that damned bed whether you liked it or not.

[cal-flakes]

can you do one where rafe is secretly in love with y/n but acts cocky because he doesn’t want her to find it and they just keep teasing each other pls 😩

╰┈➤ bestfriend’s brother

warnings: swearing, teasing,

summary: sarah’s bestfriend, y/n, comes to stay at tannyhill for a while since her parents are away.

“again, thank you both so much!” y/n smiled at rose and ward, setting her bags down in the hallway. “it’s never a problem sweetie, you might as well be part of the furniture!” ward joked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

y/n’s parents had gone out of town, again, for a work thing, leaving her to find somewhere to stay for a couple weeks. so when she called sarah, she’d immediately been offered ti stay at tannyhill. “are you sure your dad and rose won’t mind?” she’d sighed down the phone, knowing the answer. “they love you y/n! you know you’re always welcome here..”

if anything it was handy for the cameron’s to have y/n staying with them, she was always up to help around the house or help wheezie with her homework when her actual siblings couldn’t be bothered.

ward took the bags from her, lugging them up to sarah’s room while rose lead y/n through to the the kitchen. “are you hungry sweetheart?” she asked, a caring look on her face. “no, i’m okay, thank you though”

with a nod, rose sent the girl on her way to sarah’s room. y/n adored spending time at tannyhill, it was always so warm and everyone was always happy to see her. well, everyone except rafe.

so when she bumped into him on the way to her friends bedroom, knocking his water bottle out of her hand, she almost cowered. “nice going, those glasses aren’t doing you any good?” he teased, reaching down for the bottle.

“ignore him y/n, he’s just in a mood cause he’s in trouble with dad” sarah’s voice appeared from the landing, mocking rafe for his foul mood that afternoon.

glaring at his sister, rafe shoved past y/n, stomping angrily down the rest of the stairway.

she stared between the two siblings, somewhat unphased by rafe’s unpleasant demeanour. she’d seen it all in the last fourteen years that she no longer payed him any mind.

following sarah to her room, the pair giggled as they closed the door behind them, quickly setting up shop for a couple hours worth of boy talk.

the bond between the two was unbreakable. sure, they’d had their fair share of petty arguments here and there, but never anything detrimental.

hours passed as they spoke about anything and everything, giggling and howling together.

“so, what about you?” sarah questioned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. y/n’s face twisted as confusion set in. “what do you mean?”

“i mean..you haven’t told me about any boys on your mind yet!” her friend groaned, bouncing on the bed in exasperation.

“ohh, yeah, no…no boys here unfortunately…” sarah frowned at y/n’s answer, expecting something much more exciting.

the frown on her face flipped into a menacing smirk as she stared at y/n, leaning closer. “i know someone you might like…” she whispered.

intrigued, y/n leaned in further, her ear tilting to sarah’s lips.

“rafe’s available..” she joked, looking for any sign of agreement in y/n’s face.

“wha-rafe? rafe hates me sarah! he always has!” y/n shrieked, a look of disdain plastered on her face.

giggling, sarah shook her head. “no he doesn’t, why do you think he’s always lingering around whenever you come over?”

little did the pair know, rafe was lingering around, right outside sarah’s bedroom door, listening intently.

a smirk danced across his lips as he heard y/n speak. “i-i mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely attractive, but we’ve always hated eachother sarah, it-it’s like tradition, or something..” she gushed, a light shade of pink appearing on her cheeks.

rafe chuckled slightly, almost losing his balance. the floorboard beneath him gave his eavesdropping away, catching the girls attention.

he hastily made the decision to pretend he was already on his way to sarah’s room, knocking on the door.

turning the handle, he leaned against the doorway, his cocky demeanour demanding the attention in the room.

“what are you two talking about?” he asked, frowning at his sister and her friend. “why do you care?” y/n retorted.

taken back by her quick response, his head tilted in amusement. “do you ever go home?” he spat, the corner of his lips threatening a smile. “do you ever shut up?”

“okay, enough flirting! what do you want rafe?” sarah interjected, leaving her friend slightly flustered at the statement.

“dad told me to let you know that dinners almost ready..” he lied, glaring at y/n before he turned to leave.

part two maybe??

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real. 

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

~

Part 6 - When They Loved

Neteyam stared at his friend in disbelief. He blinked slowly before his head snapped over to where Ayelýn sat a few feet away, then back to Aonung as if trying to understand. 

All the while the wheels turned in his head, Lo’ak sat back with a smug smirk, enjoying every second of Aonung’s annoyance toward him. 

Lo’ak had slipped up- and Neteyam being no idiot had pried, causing them to have to tell him the truth. 

“Nope. No.” Neteyam shook his head. “You’re both fucking with me.” He looked at his brother as if asking for confirmation, and at Lo’ak’s nod, he scoffed in bewilderment. “It’s all an act? You and her? All fake? She- Ayelýn isn’t-”

“Like I said, it’s all part of a plan.”

“Mm.” Neteyam clicked his tongue and Aonung felt an uncomfortable stab of guilt at the disappointment shining in the man’s eyes. “And when’s this plan of yours ending exactly?”

Aonung’s brow crinkled. “We agreed after the celebration of Lo’ak and Tsireya’s bonding ceremony.”

“That’s less than two weeks away.”

“I know.”

“Whatever happened to what we talked about? I leave and you what- just jump at this moron’s reckless idea?” he asked, gesturing to his younger brother.

“Hey- I’ll have you know it’s a full proof plan, alright?” Lo’ak defended. “If anything, Fishlips here should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you? For what exactly? Lo’ak if anyone finds out, Aonung could-”

“Relax, bro- sheesh.” He rolled his eyes. “Definitely didn’t miss this,” he muttered under his breath. “Look, ‘Teyam, if I didn’t come up with this plan, our poor sorry assed friend here would have never met his one and only Gorgeous Lýn and fallen in lo-”

“I met her before the plan,” Aonung interrupted. He knew what Lo’ak was going to say, and he really wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. “What does that matter though? Can we just talk about something else?” he snapped.

Lo’ak groaned into the palm of his hand. “Brother, do you see what I have had to put up with? I wish he’d wise up already. I'm getting tired of his shit. I should just go over there and tell Lýn-”

“Would you shut the fuck up!”

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek as he observed the metkayina male. Aonung glanced over at Ayelýn as if making sure she hadn’t heard his outburst. 

“You’re in love with her,” he stated, ignoring Aonung’s attempt at a scoff of indignation and continuing with, “Tell me you’re not sleeping with her.”

Aonung didn’t answer and that was all the clarification Neteyam needed. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that? I’ve been here all of two days and I know for sure that if you let that woman go, it’s going to be the biggest regret of your life.”

“We have an agreement, Neteyam,” Aonung mumbled, not even putting up a fight. “...She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Lo’ak snickered, and through a fake cough he muttered a rude remark that earned him a deadly glare. Thankfully his brother interrupted whatever Aonung’s retaliation would have been. 

“She doesn’t?” Neteyam stared at him as if he was mad. “Cause from what I’ve seen- it sure doesn’t seem that way… You two sure fooled everyone- including each other… Have you even talked to Ayelýn? Have you told her?”

“No… But just last week she screamed her head off telling me she couldn’t wait for this to finally be over.”

“Right. Now was that before or after you did something stupid?”

The skxawng couldn’t even hide it. He snorted at the memory of Lýn’s fiery gaze as she yelled at him for the stupid prank he, Kaii and Khalhan had pulled on her. 

“Would you quit pissing off the woman you love? No wonder she can’t wait to get away from you.”

“Don’t think I could if I wanted to. Brother, every time she gets mad, her face morphs into the prettiest scowl I’ve ever seen, and then after that I just want to fuck her to make up for being an dick.”

Lo’ak snorted.

“So you are in love with her then.”

Aonung paused, only just registering Neteyam’s love comment. “I’m n- I don’t know,” he lied.

“You don’t know...” Neteyam shifted on his haunches and pointed over to where Ayelýn sat. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love that woman over there.” 

Lýn sat a few feet down the beach, chatting with a large group of women. Perched between Tsireya and a breastfeeding Xilä, she was all smiles at whatever the conversation was.  

Aonung’s eyes tracked Lýn’s movement. 

And as if she could feel his stare, she glanced over at him. Brow raising, she and Aonung proceeded to have some sort of unspoken conversation that only the two of them could understand.  

Lýn’s head tilted in silent question and Aonung responded in turn, cunning gaze and quirked lips making the metkayina woman roll her eyes in faux annoyance. She was fighting a smile but it broke through right before she returned her attention to the women surrounding her. 

Neteyam and Lo’ak who had watched the entire thing unfold, shared a knowing look. 

“Yeah, alright…  Totally not in love with each other… Got it,” Neteyam said sarcastically as Lo’ak smothered his laughter. “What do your parents think of her? Have they caught on?”

“My father hasn’t- thank, Eywa… but I’m pretty sure my mother has her suspicions. They both like her though- my mother especially.”

“Huh… Thought she hated everyone.”

“Nope… She dragged Ayelýn around yesterday, officially introducing her to our council as her daughter-in-law. And she’s even meddling. The woman went and offered Lýn a new role here at Awa’atlu. A mender’s apprentice.” 

“That’s good though. Lýn would be closer to you now, no?” 

“If she takes it, then yeah.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“He’s being stupid again,” Lo’ak chimed in. “Tell him what you did, idiot.”

Aonung shifted. “Lýn asked me whether I think she should accept the role or not… I told her I’d think about it.”

Neteyam groaned as if in pain. “Oh you poor, stupid soul. All she heard you say was don’t take it.”

“And then what, ‘Teyam? I’ll have to see her around here all the time and I won’t have any claim to her! Honestly, the fact that she wasn’t taken before baffles the fuck out of me. I have eyes- I see men watching her when they don’t think I’m looking. The second we’re through they’ll swoop right in! I mean have you seen her?!” Aonung was losing it now.

“She is very pretty, yes,” Neteyam agreed with an amused smile. 

“She’s stunning. She’s a sweetheart when she’s ready, but she’s also got this little attitude that just makes me fucking crazy… And she’s so stubborn and she works herself tired everyday and all I want-”

“All you want?” his friend pressed and this time Lo’ak had no snide comment- this time he stared at his friend with true concern. 

“All I want is to take care of her, alright,” he snapped. 

Neteyam smiled. “…Alright… So, what are you going to do to make that happen?” 

~

Strolling along wet sand, Lýn’s mind plagued her. 

She had but a handful of days left with Aonung. With desperate measures, she tried to formulate a plan for how she’d handle the separation. 

Her heartbreak was not the only one she worried over. As a consequence of her own actions, she knew the news would also be hard on her family.

Her parents had grown fond of Aonung- her father even called him son. Kaiiff would take it the hardest of course- Ayelýn knew he looked up to Aonung. 

Thankfully, a gleeful shriek and excited squeal pulled Lýn from her thoughts.

Her attention drifted to Zyden- Neteyam and Xilä’s son- the baby walking on slightly wobbly legs as his uncle Lo’ak held one of his hands- helping him stomp and splash at the gentle waves rolling on shore. 

She smiled at the little one’s baby talk, jumbled babbles filled with the few words he knew- mamas and dadas and fishies in an odd but cute mixture of both English and Na’vi.

The Sully family were amazing people. 

Her time spent with them had been surprisingly wonderful, and while they were the ones visiting her home, she felt very much welcomed by them. 

Accompanying the Sullys were Neteyam’s in-laws. 

There were Xilä’s parents- Jxo, who Lýn found to be extremely intimidating- even when he held his grandchildren and Sal- her mother, who looked as if she’d give Slwen good competition for who could be the rowdiest. 

D’avi- Xi’s sister, who had a little baby bump sprouting, was hilarious in her own way. She teased Lýn constantly about Aonung once she found out they were courting. Thankfully Yalnïk- D’avi’s husband rescued her countless times by interrupting- bringing their children along- the most adorable twins Lýn had ever met. 

Xilä was who she especially had become fast friends with however.

Lýn had friends, but very few of them made her feel the way Xi did. Xi had an energy that made just about anyone love her instantly. 

As the days went on, Lýn stuck close with D’avi, Kiri, Xi and Tuk throughout the different ceremonies- each one more elaborate than the next. 

Guests from all over Pandora arrived at different times- some visiting for a feast or two, whilst others stayed for it all- each of them bearing grand gifts for the soon to be mated pair. 

Lýn had no idea that the celebrations would be this big, but when she really thought about it- of course it would be. 

It was the union of the offspring of two esteemed Olo'eyktans; Jake Sully- the legendary Toruk Makto and Tonowari- leader of fifty villages- the largest clan spanning the seas. 

~

A few days later, as night crept slowly, Lýn approached Aonung and the small group he sat with on the beach.

With a friendly, “Hi,” she tried to crouch next to Aonung, but he scooped her up instead, seating her between his propped thighs. 

He was pleased that she didn’t mind this and instead settled comfortably against his chest without a fuss. 

“Zyden is adorable,” she complimented Neteyam and Xilä, smiling at the baby who was currently rather entertained with the sand. 

Little toes and tail wiggling excitedly, he was grabbing tiny handfuls and dropping them into Lo’ak’s waiting palm. The two of them had been inseparable since the Sully’s arrival. 

“Thank you,” Neteyam replied, and Xilä smiled in thanks from where she was leaning on her husband. “Are you and Aonung planning to wait long after your ceremony to start trying?”

Ayelýn frowned, not understanding, whilst Aonung gave Neteyam the dirtiest glare he could muster over the top of Lýn’s head. 

“Children,” Neteyam confirmed. “Having your own little ones, I meant.” 

“Oh. Oh.” Ayelýn’s cheeks bloomed bright. “Um-”

“Aonung told me he was hoping to have at least five the last time we visited.”

Ayelýn coughed, choking on air as she knocked her chest. Aonung fussed over her in serious worry, rubbing her back whilst Lo’ak laughed his ass off- even little Zyden joined in as if it were the funniest thing in the world, despite not understanding. 

“You’ve gone and traumatized the poor girl, handsome,” Xilä murmured to her grinning mate, chiding him lightly yet unable to hide her own amusement. 

“Sorry…” Lýn cleared her throat, patting Aonung’s thigh in reassurance that she was okay. “We um- haven’t talked about children yet.” 

“Gorgeous, he’s just messing with you,” Aonung said, soothing his hands down her arms, and then to Neteyam he mouthed, “Fuck off!”

Thank Eywa the conversation changed after that.

~

As the night wore on, their little group grew.

Rotxo arrived first, followed by Tsireya who instantly cuddled up with Lo’ak. Kiri and Spider joined soon after, then a couple others Lýn hadn’t had much interactions with; W’aote and three other men who were all part of Lo’ak’s patrol team back at Home Camp, and Tasam- Kiri’s courting partner. 

Little Zyden was all tuckered out and slept sprawled on his father’s chest- sleeping deep enough that the noise around him didn’t seem to be a bother. 

It was a fun, rowdy group. They talked about everything, from stupid, silly stories to serious conversation on matters that concern their clans. 

“You’ve gone quiet,” Aonung whispered to her, tugging her hair to the side to kiss her exposed neck.  

She shivered from his touch. 

“Are you ready to head back home?” 

Home. 

Aonung probably hadn’t realized what he was saying Lýn thought, but she’d picked up on his words over the past week and some. 

Everything he said hurt her just a little bit- our bed, our home, our hideaway, our, our, our.

“Lýn.”

“Hmm?” She blinked away her thoughts, head tilting to catch his gaze, not surprised when he kissed her the second her lips were within reach. 

“Ready to head home?”

She wanted to… more than anything. But they were two days away from the end of their plan. They were supposed to be distancing themselves- in a fight. 

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered back. “The plan-”

“Shh,” he kissed her again, palm cupping her cheek. “Not tonight. Please just stay.”

And of course, no matter how many times she’d said no to him, she always gave in. 

“Okay.” 

~

Two days later, on the morning of the final blessing ceremony, before Lo’ak and Tsireya’s mated bonding, as Ronal led the congregation in harmonic chant… Lýn cried. 

~

Ambling around Aonung’s little marui, Ayelýn collected her things, item by item. She did so with a heavy heart however, knowing that the end had come for her and Aonung. 

They’d put it off time and time again, but this round was different. This round was the end.

While she shoved a simple tweng into her satchel, Aonung entered and stopped short at the sight of her- stomach instantly sinking in dread. 

At a quick glance around, most of her things were already missing. He hated it already- his home looked empty without her things mingled with his. 

“What are you doing?”

“Oh- hey,” she greeted, unable to turn around and face him. Her throat burned and eyes stung. “I’m packing.” 

“I see that… Why?”

“What do you mean why? This was the plan,” she said, trying to keep the bite from her tone. Lýn walked over and knelt on his messy sleeping mats, lifting and feeling around as she searched. “Have you seen my shell necklace?”

“Lýn.”

“Could have sworn I took it off before falling asleep last night,” she mumbled. Giving up, she stood and resumed the packing of her bag.  

“Lýn-”

“How do you want to stage the fight, by the way?” 

Aonung rubbed his temple and fought to keep his irritation at bay. “Fight? What fight?”

“Mm. The argument you suggested? Don’t tell me you forgot. We’ve had this planned for months now, Aonung. I’m supposed to break your heart, remember?”

“Ayelýn-”

“And of course you’ve forgotten, but come on Aonung, this was your plan.”

In truth, it was her fault for not bringing it up last night- her fault for not asking him to clarify the plan for today.

Instead she had selfishly basked in everything that was him- fucking away her sadness and clinging on to the little time she had left with him.

“Ayelýn!” he yelled. “Look at me.”

Fingers clenched tightly around the handle of her satchel, she released it and turned. Slowly. Keeping her expression as closed off as possible. 

“You want to stage the fight? That’s what you want?” he asked, eyes tracking every inch of her face for a telling lie. 

“It’s what we planned to-”

“I didn’t ask you that, Ayelýn.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “What do you want from me, Aonung? I don’t understand why you’re asking me that?” 

He clicked his tongue. “I think you should take that role my mother offered you.”

Ayelýn blinked. She shook her head in confusion, feeling a distinct feeling of whiplash. 

Why was he bringing that up now?!  

“Um… Are you sure? You didn’t seem pleased about it when I first brought it up.”

“I wasn’t.”

“...Can I ask why?”

“Because at the time I was being selfish to protect myself. Because if you did, then that would mean I’d have no choice but to see you everyday after this- after we ended.”

Lýn looked away, pretending his words didn’t hurt. She failed to keep the bitterness out of her tone when she asked, “What changed your mind then?” 

“I found out something quite interesting,” he replied as he approached her slowly.

“Did you?”

“You’re in love with me.”

Lýn’s jaw fell open, then snapped with an audible click of her teeth while a sense of dread that he’d found out, flooded her. 

“I’m no-”

“You aren’t?” 

“Aonung-”

“Tell me something, Lýn... What am I going to do if you fall in love with someone else one day?”

She folded her arms with a scoff. “I think you’ll survive,” she snarked. Her walls were all the way up and she hated that he was still able to rile her up this easily.

“I won’t.” He shrugged, still creeping towards her. “What about you? Hm? What are you going to do if I fall in love with someone else one day?”

She said nothing to this, expression confused as she tried to keep up with the conversation.

“Will you really be okay pretending you never cared about me at all?”

She froze, not only at the question, but realizing how close he’d gotten to her, had her panicked.

“Admit it. Tell me you love me.” 

“Where is this even coming from? I don’t love you.”

“Liar.”

“Aonung-”

“I heard you, Ayelýn. I heard you and Xilä talking a few nights ago.”

‘Fuck.’ 

“It was just talk, part of the act,” she mumbled.

“I don’t believe you.” 

Lýn’s face scrunched as she prepared for rejection. She wasn’t even given a second to think because he was talking again, and this time his words had her head spinning. 

“Maybe you’ll admit it to me then, if I said it first?” 

She inhaled sharply. 

“Will that work for you, gorgeous? If I said it first?” 

“You- you don’t love me.”

“I don’t?”

“Do you?”

His gaze was intense and Lýn felt annoyance bubble in her chest from the sight of the stupid smirk playing at his lips. 

This was probably some big joke to him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, turning her back on him to add the last of her things in her satchel. 

That was not the reaction he was expecting. 

“It doesn’t matter?” His brows narrowed in upset. “The fuck does that mean, Ayelýn?” 

“No… Because then what?!” She rounded on him, eyes fiery and full with hurt. “I’m not so naive to think that you actually- ! The whole point of me pretending to court you was-”

“Are you serious?” He stood straighter, disbelief and distress radiating off of him. “Look I’m not sure at what point exactly that things officially changed, but be honest with yourself, Ayelýn. Did any of that feel like pretending to you?!”

“Aonung-”

“I want you.”

“N-”

“I want you, Lýn. No pretense. All real. Everyday. Forever.” 

Ayelýn was not a crier, but his words hit her so powerful, everything inside of her crumbled.

Hesitating, she took the bait. 

“Including courtship? For real.” 

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. I’m not a stupid plaything.”

“You aren’t,” he agreed gently, forcing himself to not push her too fast- hope still there. "Courting gifts?” he asked in slight teasing. 

“Yes… you never did actually get me any.”

He bit down a smile. “Meeting of the families?”

“Yes.”

“Those long overbearing, traditional bonding ceremonies?”

“Yes.”

“...Mating? Tsaheylu mating?”

Lýn bit her lip, trying not to crack a smile. She failed. “Is there any other kind of mating?”

“Hey. I’m only trying to be clear with your demands over here.”

A breathy laugh escaped her at that. “Then yes, tsaheylu mating.”

“Okay.”

“Just like that…? You’re going to give me everything?”

“Just like that, gorgeous.” He stepped into her space. “But you have to agree first.” 

It was that tone again. The one that confused her to pieces sometimes.

“Aonung. I’m not playing a game right now.”

“That’s good, cause neither am I.” He was a hair's breadth away from her now, fingers coming up to tangle in her hair- thumb tracing her jaw. 

“You’re annoyingly difficult to stay away from, you know that?”

His forehead fell onto hers. “Then don’t make it difficult. Tell me you want me forever and I’m yours. Tell me you love me and I swear, I’ll do my best to be the best mate I could be. I won't be perfect..”

Lýn swallowed.

“But I’ll take care of you, and you can boss me around like wives normally do sometimes- kind of like what you already do when you tell me I’m being stupid whenever I get in my head and start behaving like an ass.” 

“Aonung-”

“And I’ll keep you, Lýn.”

She sniffled. 

“You say it all the time- as a joke, I know… But I’m dead serious right now... I’ll keep you and love you. And I’ll take care of your family- and Keftxo.” 

He swiped away her tears. 

“I'm a good man now because of you.” 

“Hush… You’ve always been a good man,” she croaked. 

“Better now, I should say.” 

Aonung cupped her face with both hands, lifting his head to see all of her. 

“I love you, Ayelýn. Pretty sure I have since the first moment we met when I found you kicking and cursing at that damn deathtrap of yours.” 

“Canoe,” she corrected through a teary laugh, eyes swimming in adoration for the man before her. 

He chuckled too, a tad choked up himself. “I love you and I want you forever, Lýn.” 

Index finger hooking and tugging him down by the cord around his neck Lýn nodded- a sweet smile playing on her lips- the action causing their noses to brush. 

 “...I love you, Aonung. Every part of you, inside out. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Aonung’s face split into a wide grin. In one fell swoop, he scooped her up by the thighs, lifting her high up his waist as her legs and arms wrapped around him. 

“You want me?”

She laughed as he nipped her lips playfully. 

“Yes.”

“I’m half expecting you to tell me you have rules,” he teased. 

“Ohh I do. I am telling you right now, I am not popping out five babies.”

He cackled at that, head tossed back in pure glee.  

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “Hey, Lýn,” he called.

“Hmm?” she hummed, pecking that little birthmark on the corner of his mouth.

“Say it again… Tell me you want me.”

Lýn kissed him first. A feverish kind filled with a dose of desperation that came from raw and excessive longing. The kind that was long overdue- the kind that released all the pent up energy that came from avoiding their true feelings. 

“I want you, you skxawng.”

“I want you too, gorgeous.”

~

And that's it folks!

Thank you for reading, commenting and liking! Thank you for your patience and a special thank you to @iwannabeapinkaesthetic for the inspo for this fic to come to life!

It was a joy writing my very first Aonung story, and so much fun creating Lýn.

As always, please let me know what you think and I hope to see you in my next one.

💛💛💛.

~

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[identityflawed]

i really appreciate that DEXTER has gotten a surge of appreciation and love since it’s been added back to netflix. i’ve been a fan of the show for six years now! i always get disappointed, however, by the demographic of men who choose to watch the show with the same sort of ignorant mindset that they consume all other media with. dexter is by no means a perfect show — sometimes the plot is a slog and the characters are dumb, and the show takes an unfortunate fall-off as the writers lose the core idea of dexter’s character — but it’s worth paying attention to because the characters are very human and real, other than dexter. that’s the point of it all: that he’s surrounded by individuals who are flawed and complex and complicated and angry in their own ways, as close to violence as he’s always been, dancing on the edges of their own knives. they make bad decisions in the name of their moral codes and beliefs, just as he does. his own connection to what makes people human is faded and invisible to him, but he is in fact, human. his act of killing is vengeful and is of his father’s orders, and the sins of the father are pervasive in the show, time and time again. you are ultimately what your parents make you until you choose to try and change. he was a traumatized child who was supposedly young enough to forget what happened to him in that shipping container, but harry still raised him to be a killer.

i feel a lot of vehemence towards fans who dislike deb because they think she’s a bop, or she sleeps around, or she’s over-emotional, or a pick me. she’s more tragic than dexter. forgotten by her own biological father because harry wanted a gun to point at criminals that the justice system let go, and saw that in dexter when she wanted him to see it in her, too. she wanted to be anything that her dad wanted and she never got to do that; and more than that, she loved her father more intensely than dexter did — and she loves everything more intensely — and hates that for all her love and affection and desperation, the adopted son who is so kind to her still got what she wanted more than anything. she’s tragic because everything she did was to make her dad proud of her, and he died before he could ever see it. harry was a horrible father to both of them, but she sought him out in every man she loved. and she kept losing them, too. her resentment for herself and her hatred of her life choices is so profound that we see her hurting herself frequently — tossing medication after injuries, drinking, working out obsessively, turning down people’s help just so she can wallow and hate herself — in any way that still lets her feel like she’s strong and not weak. and then she projects these ideas on dexter when she’s furious, because she’s always been jealous of him. she’s gone further than he has and with less years behind her, but she’s not religious enough to believe her father’s ghost is looking down at her with a smile. she doesn’t even get dexter’s privilege of hallucinating his pride, because how can you visualize something you’ve never even had?

the supporting cast of dexter is all complex and strange. masuka cracks perverted jokes all the time because he likes being funny and it lightens the gruesome mood, but then gets worried when he realizes maybe his humor undermines his intelligence or how much he cares for the people around him. joey’s a hardliner and a dirty cop who gets himself into trouble for his love of money and comfort, but it’s paired with his determination to protect and avenge the people he loves — and he loves very easily, and hates very easily. angel is a good cop and a good friend who can’t put parameters on his love because he’s antsy, and a free spirit in the worst of ways because being devoted to any one thing forever seems to scare him, because in the past he’s fumbled everything he tries, so he wants to leave an out for himself in everything he does. rita is a recovering abuse victim who offers more kindness to dexter than she should because there’s a part of her that’s afraid she’ll lose the only man her kids have felt safe around, and the only man who seems to respect her and defend her. she gives more than she thinks she’ll receive — placating gestures, forgiving him and waiting patiently for him to repair his mistakes — because some part of her is grateful for any small kindness the world can give her. laguerta is a woman who fought tooth and nail for the power she finally received in an environment that doesn’t treat people of her color or her sex well enough, and would do anything to keep it even if it means stepping on the toes of others, because she doesn’t want to lose it and spend her whole life regretting things. she hates regret, hates hesitation, hates anything that your average male cop does but has to hate it in a different way because aggression is not something well-appreciated in women for the time. she must be pretty and efficient and political; she is not afforded the privilege that everyone else has of being morally forward. doakes was a military man who suffered severe PTSD from his tours and went into the police force because it was the only place he felt like he was channeling himself right, with moral superiority that he had to give himself. like dexter, he would kill those he saw as irredeemably evil, and couldn’t stomach the thought of being around dexter because it’s like looking in the mirror but not knowing why the reflection is so clear. he couldn’t understand where dexter had been to put the look in his eyes that doakes always woke up to, and that made him antsy. his determination to find answers and clear-cut his entire existence into good and evil after a life of morally grey smudges caused his entire postmortem reputation to be a morally grey smudge. there are more: christine hill, frank lundy, arthur mitchell, paul bennett, even astor and cody, miguel prado, to an extent. you can’t love or hate any of them. dexter is a show that reexamines the complexity of humanity from the eyes of a man who doesn’t think he’s human at all.

i think the final two seasons of dexter were a waste. i think what they did for his final love interest and for his ending were destructive to that message. i don’t think he deserved a happy ending, but dexter is indeed a tragedy. i hope that Resurrection ends with him in an electric chair, mirroring the fear harry had for him in childhood, because there isn’t any real escape for a man like him. after the season four finale, his humanity swelled in season 5 and 6 and then died in seasons 7 and 8, and then twisted about in new blood, in some inverted idea of the five stages of grief. well-handled. dexter is his own destructive force because he feels so far removed from society — as most serial killers do — that he destroys the people around him who think he’s close enough to touch their own hearts and then tear them open. and that’s sad, because it’s all the sins of the father and an unstoppable cycle.

the writers don’t get any more self aware than they do in 4x7 “hungry man” when trinity’s daughter mentions aeschylus in passing — the father of tragedy. and indeed that’s what it closes out to. aeschylus’ plays mirror things displayed in dexter. so fascinating and wildly off-topic. but give it a look.

[papercorgiworld]

Hey, I just wanted to know if you are taking requests right now and if yes then would you be comfortable writing angst or sad stuff. If not it's totally understandable.

Sending you lots of love and purrs

Hello not so anon anon, thank you for dropping by in my inbox darling! AND OMG YOU KNOW I LOVE PURRSS! So obviously lost of love and purrs back! I hope you like this! Happy readings, though Tom's version is pretty sad so not so happy readings...

What we could’ve been

A very angsty Mattheo and (any) Tom imagine 😭

When you're dying feelings are confessed. Both endings are more or less open, but still sad.

I find writing angst very difficult so definitely feedback me.

You had been forced to switch schools after a series of mysterious events had followed you around at your previous school. Your parents had chosen Hogwarts as the safest school for you and Dumbledore welcomed you regardless of your rather dubious academic history. 

You had been looking for answers. You had been desperate to find out the truth, too desperate. Of the very few friends you had made at Hogwarts none of them had time to follow you on this quest. You should have waited, but you didn’t. A small light shone from your wand as you walked through the forbidden forest in search of an enchanted pond. Your heart sped up with each sinister noise you heard, making you turn around to stare at the darkness of the forest.

“Drown in truth.” You read the words carved into a nearby rock. “This should be the spot.” You mutter to yourself, your heart going even faster now that you have found the pond. The water was exceptionally clear and you kneel to dip your fingers into the chill water, disturbing the suspiciously still and peaceful water. 

Mattheo

Quietly Mattheo entered the castle grounds, he admired the beautiful sky and found himself ridiculous for lying to his friends, but he wasn’t ready to admit to them that you were becoming more than a friend to him. He had left the quidditch celebration party early even though slytherin had won, he wasn’t in a party mood since all he could think about was you. With a lame excuse he had left his friends in search of you, expecting you to be at the castle.

Before the quidditch game you had asked him to meet you after the game for another quest. He had turned you down, feeling pressured to keep up an act since his friends were watching. In the past few months the two of you had become something of an unusual team. There was just something so intriguing about you. At first Mattheo told himself that he just wanted to know who you were and why you switched schools, then you became this team obsessed with finding out what sort of magic hung around you. But even though you were a team and it was obvious to most that you two were slowly falling in love, Mattheo was terrified of anyone finding out that he was in love with the weird and mysterious new girl.

There’s nothing wrong with choosing my friends over her, she has to understand. She’s not an unreasonable person; she'll be happy that I returned early. Maybe we still have enough time to check out this new clue she had found and- Mattheo is torn from his thoughts when your patronus appears in front of him in an unusual colour, he looks for you but doesn’t spot you in the empty courtyard. When he returns his eyes to your animagus it’s quickly moving away. Mattheo follows it but soon realises it’s in a hurry and summons his broom so he can fly after it. His heart starts pounding at a terrifying rate as he enters the forest and realises that his worst fear is becoming reality: you were in danger. 

***

The only thing Mattheo remembered was that he had carried your unconscious body into the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey shrieked in panic at the sight. Sitting on the floor against the wall next to the door of the infirmary with his head hanging low Mattheo ignores the approaching footsteps. “We heard.” Enzo says standing together with Draco. “Blaise and Theo have teamed up with Granger to see if they can find a cure.” Enzo continues, but Mattheo doesn’t want to hear these preaches of false hope. “There’s no cure for dying.” Mattheo’s voice sounds defeated and tired. After a moment of silence Mattheo lifts his head to let it rest against the wall behind him, like he can’t hold it up without support. His drained eyes move to Draco and Enzo. “I heard Dumbledore and Pomfrey. She’s cursed, she’s slowly dying and there’s nothing they can do except let the life in her slip away.” There’s a crack as he says those last words and the air among them gets heavier. 

Draco bends to level Mattheo sitting on the ground. “Have you talked to her?” Draco almost whispers and Mattheo looks at him with dead eyes. “She’s…” Mattheo falls silent and Draco fills in. “..dying, not dead. You can still talk to hear, she might hear.” Mattheo huffs. “And say what? Good luck on the other side.” The cynical tone in Mattheo’s voice makes Draco look up at Enzo for support. “Tell her what everyone wants to hear… that they are loved.” Mattheo, who had expected Enzo to speak up, looks surprised when he sees his brother approach. “Quit self pitying and go be with her.” Tom says calmly but there’s a sternness in his voice. 

Mattheo holds your hand in his as he places a soft kiss on your hand. He notices he’s holding his breath and takes a deep breath before looking at your peaceful face. With one hand still holding yours his other hand brushes through your hair, before his thumb gently strokes your cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Mattheo whispers and his voice cracks while his eyes get glassy. “I should’ve been there. I knew it was important to you.” A silent tear rolls over Mattheo’s cheek and he moves a little closer to you, taking in your perfect face. “You are important. You mean so much to me. I’ll never forgive myself for- Godss, I should’ve been with you. We, you and I, we could’ve figured this out… and whatever or whoever was after you, we could’ve defeated them.” 

Mattheo lets his head fall as it pains him to watch you stay silent, knowing that every second a little more of your light slips away. There’s tears rolling down his cheeks, but he bites back and looks back at you forcing himself to man up. With a brave voice and intense eyes he confesses: “I need you to hear me, because I need you to know that-that I love you.” Imagines of you smiling flash through his mind. He can hear you say his name and he remembers what it felt like when you were pressed against him that one time you had to hide in a broom closet together. You are such a beautiful person. The world will lose its light as you lose yours.

Mattheo runs a hand over his face drying his tears, telling himself he has no right to feel this way over someone he failed. He clenches his jaw and squeezes your hand, knowing that he needs to say his goodbye. 

“Matt!” Blaise yells, making Mattheo turn to see Hermione, Theo and Blaise approach. Theodore and Hermoine stop in front of Madam Pomfrey to show her something in a clearly very old and dusty book, but Blaise walks towards Mattheo. “We believe she’s stuck in a dream- more like a nightmare, but if we get her out, if we help her get out of the nightmare than, maybe,... she’ll live.” Mattheo just stares in silence at Blaise as he tries to process what Blaise had just told him. Maybe I get to have a second chance and have a life with you after all. Suddenly one specific memory takes over Mattheo’s mind, your voice rings in his head.

“Matt! Stop smoking, it's not healthy.” Mattheo rolls his eyes but immediately puts his pack of smokes back into his pocket rather than taking one. “Look, I saw this today.” You turn to him with a poster of the yule ball. “What’s up with this? I didn’t know Hogwarts had a dance.” Mattheo holds the poster but instantly gives it back. “Just some stupid dance that gets everyone excited over lame music and itchy outfits.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets as you still scan over the poster. “Did you find anything in that book that we took from that dungeon yesterday?” Mattheo asks changing the subject back to the things you always talked about. “Yes!” You say excited, before you explain everything to him while making him fall in love with your perfection.

“Matt, there’s hope.” Blaise says pulling Mattheo away from the memory. I really need to ask this silly girl to go to the dance with me. If I get the chance… Mattheo balls his fists as he tries to stay strong and not fall apart. 

Tom

Tom had shot your plan to search for the pond down the minute you had suggested it and on top of that he had called you an imbecile for even considering it. Obviously you took it very well and stormed off without even saying a word. 

The image of your pain filled eyes as his words had hit you burned stronger in Tom’s mind with each step he took in the direction of the infirmary. You hadn’t even argued with him, you were so hurt that you had just turned around and left him, standing alone in the hallway with his foul tongue. Tom halts at the door seeing you lying on a hospital bed, still and peaceful. His mind plays the image of you walking away again, a painful reminder that he shouldn’t have let you go.

I should have watched over you as I’ve been doing for the past few months. Walk with you, watch you study, help you research the most bizarre places in search of answers. Tom pushes himself away from the door back into the hallway, feeling suffocated at the view of your still body on the hospital bed. He couldn’t face you. It was too late to show up now. He should’ve stuck with you and helped you instead of… Tom grips at his hair and lets himself fall against the wall behind him, cursing himself under his breath. 

His attempt to push you away, keep you at a distance and avoid catching feelings had obviously failed. His heart ached. He cursed himself under his breath, how dare he be so weak to fall in love instead of pursuing greater goals. 

“You should comfort her.” Dumbledore spoke, seemingly coming out of nowhere, startling Tom. Within a second Tom bites back all his emotions, afraid of looking weak, especially to Dumbledore. “She’s dying. Dead people don’t need comfort. The ones around them need it. They live with it after all.” There’s a hint of pity in the headmaster’s eyes at Tom’s cold tone. “I find that comforting others can be comforting as well.” Dumbledore speaks calmly and Tom wants to reject whatever the old fool has to say, but nevertheless ends up considering it. Tom’s eyes wander to the open door of the hospital wing. 

You weren’t dead yet, you were dying and Tom really didn’t want his last words to you to be an insult. With each step he took towards you his cold hands got more shaky until a trembling hand reached to stroke your cheek. “How do you still manage to be the most beautiful girl in such a dire situation? You truly are a wonder to this world.” Your body felt colder than he was used to and it made his heart sink. “What I said earlier… you didn’t deserve it… but then again it was your own fault, making a monster like me fall in love… I break all things precious, I can’t help it, it scares me, you have scared me from day one. You’ve held my heart from the moment we met and wherever you’re going now, you’ll take it with you and I don’t mind. For as little time that I’ve had with you it was all I ever needed, to know that true love exists.” 

A single lonely tear rolls down Tom’s cheek, reaching his lips as he bows to place a kiss on your forehead. With dead eyes Tom focusses on your gentle features as a way to calm himself, while bringing his wand to his temple to strip himself of every memory he had of you and every dream he planned with you.

The memory: “Will you take me?” Tom can’t hide his smile as he looks over to the new girl he’s been studying with for the past few weeks. “To my favourite bookshop?” He questions and you nod with a happy smile. “It sounds so picturesque.” A joyful half smile tugs on Tom’s lips. “Maybe I will.”

The dream: “Tom! The new delivery of books has come, you want to help me sort them?” Tom appears leaning against the doorframe leading to your house attached to your very own bookshop. “When I brought you this place I didn’t expect you to put me to work in it as well…” You huff holding two books, one in each hand. “It’s books! How dare you call it work!” You jokily argue and your boyfriend laughs, but his laugh fades in your ears as you notice something in the box. “What’s this?” You place the books you were holding on a nearby table and reach for a small box. “Only one way to find out.” Tom says slowly walking towards you as you open the box to reveal an elegant and shiny ring. “Will you marry me?” Tom whispers in your ear as he now stands behind you and you quickly turn around smiling. 

The last image of you is a smiling one, but fades non the less as Tom strips himself of everything about you. A shocked Dumbledore arrives to find that Tom has locked all that he holds so dear in a small vile. “Why take the easy way out?” The headmaster asks with a pained voice. Tom looks at Dumbledore questioningly before looking at the vile and lifting his shoulders. “Can’t remember.”

[kimvvantae]

the misadventures list; 5 (m)

➜ the night shift can be very wild at times. you’ve witnessed so many strange, concerning and absurd situations happen inside the tiny convenience store that you could make a long list with everything that got you stunned - and the situation that takes the prize of being the weirdest of your list is the night a desperate millionaire, for the sake of saving his fortune, asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

pairing: playboy!jimin x (f) reader

genre: smut, comedy (?), fluff • fake dating au

warnings: toxic parents. brief mentions of homofobia. alcohol consumption. explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, oral m&f receiving, throat fucking, unprotected sex, praise kink kinda, cum play, dirty talk). made-up celebrities. me trying to be funny i guess

rating: 18+

word count: 20k

A/N: i can't thank you guys enough for waiting for this update! i know it's been a while but i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!! as always, feedback is MUCH appreciated <3

➜  Chapters: check out masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

It’s almost 6PM.

Jimin is not happy about it.

The change in his expression as he checks the hour on his phone is subtle, but you see it as clear as day. The smile that remained on his lips and vanished from his eyes. He sighs, putting the phone inside his back pocket, and goes back to saying his goodbyes to everyone at the pier.

It makes you forget for a second that you were in the process of saving your own number on Jane’s phone.

You look down once again, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Damn. You weren’t supposed to be making friends. Jane is the lesser problem right here - she doesn’t know anyone from Jimin’s family except Jimin himself. The problem is that many of Jungkook’s friends are Jimin’s, too, and they asked for your number or your Instagram. Which, sure, isn’t that big of a deal and isn’t something unpredictable either, but hey, your purpose here is to pretend for just three days. You’re supposed to vanish from Jimin’s life right after it’s over. “Vanishing” doesn’t include making friends with his friends.

“What? You forgot your number?” Jane asks, eyeing you. She’s so drunk that it’s obvious that she’s not seeing you really. 

“Yeah, I’m… a little dizzy.” You chuckle awkwardly. That’s a lie, though - you’re not drunk in the slightest. As soon as you noticed that alcohol was making you act weird, you stopped with the cocktails and drank as much water as possible to dissipate it from your system (so much pee). Going to the Park’s private concert drunk is out of question.

Giving in, you type your real number on her phone and hand it back to her. Jane smiles.

“I’m so glad that we met, Y/N! You’re such a great person! For real, like, you have a nice vibe!” Jane says excitedly. Yeah, definitely drunk. “We should meet again before the trip is over!”

It won’t be possible, of course. You’re not free to do whatever you want. But you nod anyway, hoping she won’t remember anything later. “Sure, let’s go out!”

Your little chat is interrupted by Jungkook calling everyone for a group photo. As soon as everyone starts gathering in a spot, you feel Jimin’s hand resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His grip is warm and gentle and heat spreads from the spot he touches. His hair is kind of a mess right now, yet he still manages to look cute. Jimin doesn’t say anything, just sends you a small smile before posing for the camera.

A few clicks later, he leans over to say quietly in your ear: “We really have to go now.”

You nod. Both of you still have to get ready for the concert in a few hours. As Jimin explained, up until now, only his parents’ closest friends arrived; tonight, though, is when the real people will arrive. Not causing a good impression on them is not an option.

You start to make your way out of there, in the midst of saying goodbye to the people you walk past (consciously ignoring the vultures that were around Jimin, though. You ain’t acting nice to them at all). As you both walk past Jungkook, Jimin puts his hand over the younger’s shoulder and sends him a warning gaze. 

“You better sober up,” he says. Jungkook only opens a carefree smirk in response.

“C’mon, I’m not even that drunk yet. Don’t worry.” You’re not so sure about that, though; there’s something kind of psychotic about his silly smile. “See you guys later!”

Instead of arguing, Jimin just sighs.

And finally, you’re walking away from the pier.

It’s quieter now, which honestly is such a relief. The temperature started to cool down a bit. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon line, yet the sky is still clear, painted in beautiful shades of orange, yellow and pink. You just walk in silence, hands behind your back, feeling a little funny. Since you stayed a long time in the water, it feels as if your body is still floating. It’s been a while since you felt this way.

“Jimin, I wanted to ask you a question…” you say quietly after a while.

After not getting a response, you frown and look around. Jimin isn’t beside you.

He’s a few steps behind, holding his phone to eye level.

“What are you doing?”

Jimin smiles. “Registering the moment.”

You quirk one eyebrow up and walk back to where he stands, a little bit confused. Jimin lets you see his phone for a second.

Your jaw drops.

You stand at the very center of the photo he took, your back turned to him, hair swaying with the wind. The beautiful sight of the evening sky serves as an astonishing background, the last beams of sunlight framing your figure beautifully. It’s breathtaking. He made such a trivial moment become something incredible with a single shot.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim, astonished, making Jimin chuckle. “You’ll send me this, right? This has to go on my Instagram feed!”

“Nope.” He says in a cocky manner, sticking his phone to his chest so you can't see it anymore. “I’m gatekeeping this one.”

“Aw, come on! That’s not fair!” You cross your arms and frown at him. "What are you going to do with this photo anyway?"

"It's my lockscreen already." His eyebrows shoot up in a playful expression. "What makes me remember, you should change yours, too. Why didn't we change it before? Such an amateur mistake!" He swiftly takes your phone from your hand and opens the front camera.

"What are you doing-?"

You gasp softly when Jimin pulls you by the waist, sticking your body to his. "Smile, pretty!"

His act was so sudden that you, indeed, end up cracking a genuine smile - at the same moment his lips touch your cheek tenderly. 

Click.

Jimin steps away and smiles proudly at the photo. "We look like a real couple here. Come on, set it as your lockscreen."

You take the phone back from his hand, feeling a little dizzy.

Oh well.

You literally made out with him in front of everyone just a few hours ago, in the middle of the ocean. Why does the chaste kiss he planted on your cheek still makes your face burn? Is it because now you're alone, not having to pretend to be a couple anymore, that his act felt much more intimate? But… there was no one else around during your first kiss at the beach, either.

It's because you're head over heels for him already.

You shake your head frantically as if to yank these thoughts away from your head. No no no. I'm not falling that easily. I'm a cold hearted bitch. I'm just flattered because he's cute and hot and rich, but it'll go away. Right?

"Yeah, right." You mumble.

"What?" Jimin quirks one eyebrow up.

"What?" You freeze, realizing that you voiced your thoughts out loud. "I-I mean- I want to ask you something."

"Oh." He puts his hands behind his back and starts walking again. You follow him shortly. "What is it?"

You munch the inside of your cheek nervously. "You can not tell me if you don't want to. But… what happened earlier today? That family meeting, I mean. Is there anything I need to know?"

The carefree glint in his eyes immediately disappears. Jimin looks down at his feet. "Oh."

An uncomfortable silence settles between you, only the sounds of the ocean and voices from the other people at the pier lingering. It makes you regret making that question as soon as the words leave your mouth. "You really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You say hesitantly after a few seconds. 

"No, it's alright." Jimin reassures, but he's still staring at his feet. He sighs and shakes his head. It's so painful to see him sulking this way whenever his family is mentioned… "Basically, they called me to say that Eunbi's parents are pissed about us."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really?" You came prepared to be hated by Jimin's parents, but Eunbi's as well? Shit. As if one billionaire middle aged couple of enemies wasn't enough.

"Really." Jimin nods. You have finally reached the stairs that lead to the street level. This pier is within the resort's property, actually, so you're not that far from the bungalows, and the main building is just a few streets ahead. "They came thinking that the engagement was already settled. Without asking for our opinions, you know. They think that bringing you here is disrespectful to their daughter."

"Oh." You knit your eyebrows. "So… they don't care if you're in an actual relationship. They'd want you to break up so you can get married to someone you barely know… even if you weren't aware of the engagement?"

"Yep. That's exactly how they think." He sighs heavily. 

You go up the stairs in silence. Your brain is working furiously. "This won't put you into real trouble, right?"

Jimin chuckles. "Y/N, the whole point of bringing you here was to put me in trouble. I want to stress them. Just don't worry too much, okay? Worrying will give you wrinkles, and you have to look wonderful tonight."

You're finally standing on the sidewalk, where one of the Park family butlers already waits to take you both back to the bungalow (he's wearing a short sleeved dress shirt, at least. Poor butlers, having to wear suits in the summer!). Your stomach twirls in nervousness. Spending the afternoon so freely made you forget for a bit your actual purpose here.

"You go without me, pretty. I'll get ready at Jungkook's place." 

You turn to him, frowning in a confused expression. "What? Why?"

The happy gleam in his eyes comes back slowly as he steps closer. "I already explained that today is a little more serious, right? More guests arrived, we have to impress people… so I hired a team to take care of you. Hairstylist, makeup artist and stuff. They're already waiting for you."

"Oh." You feel your face burning for some reason. It should be expected of him to do something like that - even obvious, since all the socialites attending are probably getting the same treatment - but still, you can't help but feel a little flustered. "Okay." You change the weight of your body from one leg to another nervously. "So… see you later, I guess?"

Jesus Christ.

He's doing it again.

Standing directly in front of you with his hands behind his back, a mysterious lip tightened smile and mischief in his eyes, watching your every movement with amusement. If your face was hot a few seconds ago, now your entire body is feverish. Will you ever get used to this? The things Jimin makes you feel without even touching you are kind of amazing. Imagine when he actually touch you the way you want the most-

Hey, pervert. Stop.

"I think I've said this a hundred times already… but it's kinda rude to just stand and stare at people." You say, eyebrows knitted - but you can't manage to sound annoyed at all.

Jimin smirks.

"I want to kiss you."

You're so taken aback that your eyes widen.

"Huh?"

"Don't huh at me." He steps even closer - so close that you feel the heat emanating from his body. He rests his hand in the junction of your jaw and your neck, spreading even more heat from that spot. You don't push him away. All this heat is going to make you melt like a popsicle. "Don't try to look innocent right now. You shoved your tongue in my throat not long ago, missy." 

You giggle, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I already said… I was just method acting."

"Hmm." Jimin nods slowly, biting his bottom lip. The sight makes you weak on the knees. "Sure. So, me kissing you right now means I'm method acting because one of the butlers is watching and we can't look suspicious around them, okay? Because they're my parents' eyes and ears, okay? Not because I want to kiss you." His voice gets lower as he leans in, a faked innocent expression that has you smiling and melting at the same time. "Just to make it clear so there's no misunderstanding. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod.

"Good. I'd hate if you got it all wrong."

Your giggle is muffled by his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively rest on each side of his waist, while he cups your face with both hands. Oh God… his plump lips are addicting. This kiss is slower and somehow more peaceful than the one you shared in the sea, but it makes your heart race and your senses go crazy nevertheless. Your lips move slowly, in sync with his. You can feel him smiling within the kiss, which causes your knees to feel even weaker. 

He breaks the kiss not too long after, aware that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but not taking his hands off of you. Yet again, he bites his bottom lip, analyzing your features carefully. "Hari will be there. You'll have a lot of territory to mark. Be ready."

You throw your head back, laughing. "Sure. You really are enjoying this way too much, huh?"

"I am. Why wouldn't I?" He confesses cheekily, shrugging. He pecks your lips one last time, lingering for a little longer, before finally letting you go. "See you later, pretty."

"See you."

You hope that Jimin doesn't notice that your legs kind of forgot how to walk as you distance yourself from him towards the butler. Because yes, you feel like a poor popsicle melting under the scorching Hawaiian sun. The sun has Jimin's face, which makes you remember the Teletubbies for some reason, earning a quiet giggle from you. The butler eyes you as if you're crazy.

Maybe you are getting crazy.

But to be honest - this insanity is sweeter than any popsicle you could ever taste.

As a kid, you always fantasized about being Mia from The Princess Diaries. Call it escapism if you want - fantasizing about a perfect life while yours was awful - but it was a dream of yours. Imagine: finding out your grandmother is a queen? Going from a regular loser to a crown princess? Who wouldn't want that? 

You haven't thought of that movie in years. Now, as you stand in front of the mirror, it suddenly pops up in your head. Yes, Mia's iconic "transformation" scene.

Except you didn't think you were ugly before, which means right now, you're feeling like a literal goddess.

Maybe that's why God didn't make me rich, you think. Maybe he knew if I looked like this on a daily basis, I would be the most unbearable human being in this world.

"Did you like it?" The hairstylist, Christine, asks, eyeing you expectantly. 

If I liked it?! I look like the hottest bitch you'll ever see in your life! 

But instead of letting everyone see your God complex, you just nod and smile politely. "I loved it!"

Your eyes focus on the mirror again.

Jimin suggested you'd both wear black tonight as an evil joke. Traditionally, the dinner followed by the private concert is a more "informal" event, so everyone should dress accordingly with colorful outfits (you're in Hawaii, after all). Let's wear black. It represents me grieving my freedom, he said jokingly at the mall. You chuckled and thought he was being dramatic back then, but after everything you've witnessed for the past 48 hours, you realize that Jimin wasn't really joking when he said that.

The Yves Saint Lauren dress you two picked is quite simple: a short, strapless and sleeveless dress with a straight neckline. It's perfectly balanced between sexy and elegant: it enhances your curves the right amount, not enough to be considered vulgar by the aunties. Although it's strapless, it doesn't squeeze your boobies up so the uncles won't get "distracted" (ew). It's so simple but fits your body so well that you can't help but stare at your own reflection in awe. Simple black Givenchy sandals complete the outfit. 

Being a (poor) fashion enthusiast, this whole experience is like heaven to you. One thing is to see new collections and judge new trends; another completely different thing is to get to wear a piece from a high fashion house. It's not only about prices and status. This dress is so well cut and woven that it seems to be alive, as if it knows where to be tight and where to be loose. 

Doing your own makeup and hair was never a problem and you could do a pretty good job by yourself, but professionals doing it is on another level. Christine styled your hair back, carefully parting it and tucking it behind your ears, so your face is highlighted. Marco (the makeup artist) made your skin look impeccable, as smooth as baby butt cheeks (it's crazy how makeup can lie, huh?); the winged eyeliner, albeit simple, enhances the natural shape of your eyes. The lashes are subtle and make your eyes appear bigger. He completed the look by placing tiny little glitter dots under the waterline, one for each eye, so they kinda look like shiny tears (you suggested it, by the way, being carried away by the whole "grieving" concept. Talk about drama). He chose a lipstick color close to the natural color of your lips, making them appear shiny, plump and healthy.

And finally - the jewelry.

Mr. Zhou arrived at the bungalow a few minutes ago, carrying a leather, medium sized suitcase. You greet each other politely. Jimin texted saying that he would bring the jewelry you'd wear tonight - and you were anxious all along, because while you planned the outfits, he had already said you'd wear jewelry, but he didn't tell which jewelry; didn't show a single photo of what you'd wear, simply asked you to trust him. Although you learned to trust his fashion sense pretty fast, you don't like surprises at all. What if it's something extravagant that would ruin the look?

"Mr. Jimin picked those pieces from the Park jewelry collection himself," Mr. Zhou explains as he puts white gloves on (oh shit - this is so expensive that he has to wear gloves to touch it?!). "He said they would suit you fine - and I agree."

The chief butler opens the suitcase and takes the biggest black velvet case from inside, opening it.

It takes all of your self control not to gasp.

It's a gorgeous diamond necklace (yes, diamonds, fucking real diamonds!); it looks like a thick chain, actually, and at the center of it, sits a bigger emerald (yes, an emerald, a fucking real emerald!). Inside the box there are also subtle emerald earrings framed by tiny diamonds; since the necklace is already too much, the earrings have to be subtle to accompany them.

“I present you The Serpent’s Eye.” Mr. Zhou explains eloquently. “Tiffany & Co., designed by Paloma Picasso and acquired by the Park family in 2006.” He takes the necklace from the velvet case carefully. "If you'll allow me…" 

"Of course." You say, turning around and facing the mirror again - but you do so hesitantly, because being the fashion enthusiast you are, you recognize the name Paloma Picasso, and the fact that you’re about to have one of her original designs around your neck scares you. You’ve been very well aware that every piece of clothing you wear is worth thousands, but these pieces must be worth much more than everything else combined.

Mr. Zhou stands behind you and places the necklace around your neck, the cool touch of metal and diamonds making you shiver. The necklace sits just above your collarbones. The name of the design is understandable - it indeed resembles a small snake tangled around your neck. He also helps you put the small earrings on.

Finally, Mr. Zhou steps aside. 

"You look astonishing, Miss. Y/N," he says, and honestly, he sounds like he means it.

Yeah, I do, it’s what you want to say - but instead, you say “Thank you.”

It’s exactly what Jimin intended: elegance. If you’re too extravagant, his parents would hate it, and it’d make you look cheap no matter how expensive your clothes actually are. If it’s too simple, it’d look like you have no fashion sense. This look is the perfect balance. Your natural beauty is the focus, everything else just meant to highlight you. 

You look like a celebrity.

You look like them. Like someone’s rich daughter. And yes, it’s conflicting, because you never wanted to look like them - but you can’t deny that you like what you see in the mirror. 

You understand Jimin better now. Of course - he's an old money child, he doesn't know any lifestyle other than this. You're just having a little taste of what this life is. Yet, you can understand why he's so desperate to not lose his portion of the Park family fortune. Who wouldn't want to live such a lavish life? Who wouldn't want to look their absolute best at any opportunity, to wear clothes worth thousands just because they can?

Mr. Zhou looks at the watch on his wrist. “Now that you’re ready, I should take you to the event hall as soon as possible.” 

“Am I late?” You ask in a worried tone.

“Fashionably late. I’m sure everyone will understand. It takes time to look your best.” Mr. Zhou reassures. Why is he being so nice today? “I will wait for you outside, Miss Y/N.”

You nod. As Christine and Marco pack their things, you don’t forget to thank them over and over again for their wonderful job. They seem like pretty nice people, actually, and you'd like to get to know them better, but you have no time to. Two other butlers will assist their exit. You take the small black clutch that literally can only fit your phone and a small lipgloss before walking out of the bungalow where Mr. Zhou already waits.

No golf car today. Instead, that same Mercedes Maybach from yesterday is parked outside. Mr. Zhou politely opens the door for you and helps you get inside the car before taking his place on the driver's seat.

Another wave of nervousness hits your stomach as he turns the car on and finally starts making his way towards the hall - a separate building within the hotel's property, sitting in front of the ocean, not far from the pier. The ride will take probably 5 minutes. You exhale heavily, checking yourself again with the front camera, before tapping Jimin's contact.

you: i'm coming

He replies almost instantly:

jimin: waiting for you outside

Oh. You didn't think he'd already be there. You put the phone inside the clutch again and look out the window, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Are you nervous, Miss Y/N?" Mr. Zhou asks out of sudden, snapping you back to reality. He keeps the formal tone; his voice is soothing.

"A little bit, I'll admit." You say with a lip tightened smile.

"Tonight, you'll be meeting Jimin's parents' close friends and allies from other companies." He continues. He always speaks as if he's picking his words carefully. "It's quite important to them. It's not just a celebratory event, you see… they reassure their place within society and business today."

You frown slightly. 

Mr. Zhou never talked this much. Although he keeps that formal persona, you see that he's trying to tell you something very specific, just avoiding the direct words to do so.

And yes, you get the message.

"You don’t need to worry, Mr. Zhou.” You say, crossing your arms, your expression hardening like stone in seconds. “I won’t embarrass the Park family in front of their friends.”

You see the butler nodding. “You’re smart.” He remarks. “Intelligence is important if you want to be accepted in the family.”

I would never in a million years want to be part of this family, you think. Instead, you just gulp and grip your arms, trying to ease the growing anger.

Finally, he parks in front of the events building. Yet, instead of immediately going out - and stopping you from opening the door yourself, since you’re already annoyed, Mr. Zhou turns around on his seat to look at you directly.

His expression is serious.

“I don’t want you to take my words badly, Miss Y/N.” He says in a quiet, yet stern voice. “I have been watching over this family even before Jimin was born. I know each of them very well, and I know how dysfunctional they are. When I say you have to be smart around them and watch yourself very carefully, I don’t say it to belittle you; I say it because I know what they would be capable of doing if you offend them somehow.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” You lean forward a bit, getting defensive. “Did they tell you to threaten me?”

“No.” His voice and expression don’t change despite your obvious outrage. “I am warning you because I see that you’re not quite aware of the type of people you’re dealing with. And because you seem like a respectable young lady.” Mr. Zhou’s eyes soften a bit. “I see that Jimin likes you a lot. I’m not quite sure of what your relationship with him really is, and I’d be happy if it’s genuine, because he really needs it in his life. But I know Jimin very well…” Mr. Zhou tilts his head to the side, frowning a bit. “...and I’d hate it if you're somehow harmed because of his immaturity.”

He sends a last significant gaze before finally opening the door.

You just have these short seconds to recover your breath before he opens the door for you. Shit. What he said actually gets you. Call it naivety or whatnot - but you didn’t stop to consider that Jimin’s parents are actually powerful people that could mess up your life if you annoy them enough. But… Jimin wouldn’t have asked for your help if he knew his parents would try anything serious against you, right?

Mr. Zhou knows Jimin better than you do and he just called him immature.

Oh shit.

The butler opens the door and offers his hand for you to walk out of the car. Now, you’re not just nervous - you’re worried. 

Thankfully, the temperature dropped - it's still considerably hot, but much more comfortable than hours ago. You stand up, inhaling the fresh nightly air, and look at the gigantic building in front of you. Important events happen here quite frequently. Large marble stairs lead to the entrance of the hall. There is a gathering of women and men dressed elegantly slowly making their ways inside, greeting each other politely as they walk in, as well as many security guards. You stand on the sidewalk and nervously look around, searching for Jimin.

You spot him before he spots you.

He's standing at the corner, kind of hidden, close to the first steps, absently checking his phone. You already knew what he would be wearing tonight, but to see him in the outfit makes your brain malfunction. 

Obviously, Jimin wears all black: a silk turtleneck under a black glitter Louis Vuitton blazer that fits him marvelously. The turtleneck is tucked into the dress pants. On his feet, leather black boots. His hair is pushed back, a single strand falling on his forehead, and he uses a pair of shades to complete the look. Instead of the usual dangly earrings, he wears small hoops tonight that match the outfit very well. Once again, you're left astonished at how this man is doing basically nothing - just standing there with one of his hands tucked inside the front pocket of his pants, checking his phone with a blank expression - but Gosh, he's gorgeous. His posture is perfect: he has the elegance of a swan, the grandeur of an eagle, and the confident gaze of a tiger about to slash you to pieces. In fact, he looks so good that you even forget the short talk you had with Mr. Zhou a minute ago.

It takes him around three seconds to lift his gaze from the phone and spot you.

It's funny, because you see the exact moment he freezes.

The shades slide down the bridge of his nose. He looks at you with slightly widened eyes and parted lips. It's like he's in shock.

Then, a smile breaks its way and lightens his face.

Jimin shoves the phone inside the pocket of his pants and rushes to you in a second. Nervousness bubbles within your stomach at every step he takes. It doesn’t help that he walks with the stance of a model - he’s definitely doing this on purpose. Handsome men that know they are handsome are the most dangerous type. Jimin is not only very well aware of his appearance, he uses it to his advantage all the time. 

And when he stops in front of you, checking you out from head to toe - it’s like you can’t even breathe.

It’s a different feeling from yesterday. There’s no playfulness in his eyes at all. Only that same electricity hanging in the air you felt earlier today at the yacht - when you sat on his lap, when you kissed. This electricity is getting more and more intense, it’s like you’ll start seeing sparks around you at any moment. Fuck, he didn’t even touch you yet. You don’t know how much longer you can resist…

Honestly, you’re not sure if you want to keep resisting at this point.

Jimin takes your hand and makes you twirl around, earning a soft giggle from you. He bites his bottom lip, that mischievous smirk making you feel weak on the knees.

“Just so you know,” he says in a low voice, putting his hand on your waist, “If I make a fool of myself in front of everyone, I’m blaming you. Because I won’t be paying attention to anything else tonight.”

You giggle again, tentatively touching the lapel of his blazer. It’s beautifully embroidered with circular patterns; you can only see them if you stand close enough, though. Your sight lingers on his lips (for long seconds; they’re so plump and glossy and delicious) before you look into his eyes again. “I could say the same thing, Mr. Park.”

Jimin’s smirk widens and he tilts his head to the side. “I knew The Serpent’s Eye would suit you.” He touches the necklace with his fingertips. The action makes you gulp - this necklace seems to weigh tons and you’ve been painfully aware of it all the time, your anxious brain already making up scenarios of you losing the millionaire design and Jimin’s parents making you pay with your life. 

“Why did you choose it, by the way?” You quirk one eyebrow up in a teasing expression. “Are you calling me a snake? Should I be offended?”

Jimin chuckles. “Of course not. Serpents are astute and smart animals… just like you.” Sir, the actual smooth person here is you, not me. “Not everyone can pull off such an aggressive design. I knew none of my mother’s friends would dare to choose it.”

Jimin hooks your arm around his and slowly starts to guide you towards the stairs. “So your mom lets her friends borrow her jewelry?” You ask. 

“From the family collection, yes.” Jimin nods in a gracious movement. “The most expensive pieces, only to the closest and most important guests. It’s a sign of trust and respect.”

“But your mother surely doesn’t respect me.” You say between gritted teeth, aware of the people around you. 

“Don’t worry, she won’t say a word about it. It’d be weird if the guests noticed that her daughter-in-law isn’t wearing one of the pieces. Like I told you… this event is about appearances. She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect.”

Daughter-in-law. This makes you shiver. You've been her fake in law for barely 48 hours and it already feels like hell. Imagine being her real in law… Jieun must’ve done some awful things in her past life to deserve this, honestly.

You’re forced to pay attention to your real surroundings before you can overthink more, though, when you realize you’re the center of attention.

This is probably the closest you’ll ever feel to being a celebrity. It’s not unusual to be the center of attention when it’s your birthday, for example. But this… this feels different. You don’t know most of these people, just some familiar faces from earlier today - yet, it seems that they already know you, they measure you up and down, they smile and greet you before you can. Sure… your arm is hooked with one of this event’s hosts, the Park’s youngest son. Yet, you see that people are also actually seeing you. You’re not just Jimin’s accessory.

Is this good? You’re not sure. This means they’ve heard from you somehow. In the span of less than 48 hours, these unknown people have been talking about you.

They approach you with curious smiles; they greet you and Jimin, make some shallow - almost diplomatic - comment about the weather or how long they haven’t seen Jimin or about the outfits or I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N! (how the hell did they hear a lot about you in such a short time, though?) or you make a gorgeous couple! (you know they’re not lying about this bit; you do look gorgeous). They do not look at you disapprovingly, so you can confirm that the outfit choice was indeed appropriate for the event, albeit dramatic.

“You’re great at this, did you know that?” Jimin compliments after yet another middle aged couple walks away, leaning a bit closer to your ear so only you can hear. “You even remember their names.”

“I have a good memory,” you say between a gritted-teeth smile. “Also, working on customer service teaches you a few things.”

“Really? You weren’t this charming when we met at that convenience store.” He says in a teasing way, cocking an eyebrow up.

“First of all, I met you sitting on the floor behind a fridge. You looked like a freak.” He lets a giggle at that. “Second, I’ve moonlighted as a waitress many times. And event hostess. Never any event of this level, of course.” 

The last sentence was spoken in a quieter tone. Once again, you’re a bit scared of how Jimin - and everyone else - don’t seem to be bothered by the absolutely luxurious environment around. The immense hall is decorated in similar white and cream tones from the dinner yesterday (there’s a reason for that; Jimin’s parents are celebrating their 30th anniversary, the Pearl anniversary, apparently). Even waiters and waitresses, walking around with silver platters in hands and pretty smiles on their faces, wear cream uniforms. There are literal cascades of white lilies and roses so beautifully entangled that you’re intrigued at how they managed to arrange that. The round dinner tables are also decorated with white flowers at the center. There is a massive ice sculpture of an open oyster with a pearl in it at the entrance of the hall; the presence of pearls and oysters is almost everywhere in the decoration. The hostesses and waitresses even have small oyster shaped pins on their hair. At the very front, there is a stage; it’s barely lit yet, but you can see musicians discreetly preparing their instruments for the concert later. Professional photographers walk around the hall, recording and taking pictures of anything remarkable.

It’s jaw-dropping.

You feel weird inside.

It doesn’t matter that you look like them; you don’t feel like them. You don’t belong in this place, and it feels that everyone will notice it too if you do the slightest thing wrong. It’s clear in the way you’re astonished (outraged) at how someone can spend so much money on flowers (do you even know how much a single bouquet costs? Can you imagine thousands of flowers?!) while these people walk around with hundreds of thousands of dollars hanging from their ears or around their necks, and to them it’s just another weekend.

Oh boy. Mr. Zhou was kinda right. You will have to be very careful not to embarrass Jimin or his family in front of these people.

You walk around with your arm hooked around Jimin’s for a while, making silly small talk with the guests. Jimin quietly whispers who they are and their importance as they approach. It’s always some over the top shit like Biggest LG Shareholder or Co-Founder of This Very Famous Car Brand or CEO of This Very Rich Food Company and it makes your stomach drop every time. It seems that half of the country’s GDP is hanging around in this hall. A bunch of old guys with their (1) same age, but full of obvious cosmetic procedure wives or (2) much younger wives that of course married them out of true love.

Jimin complimented you earlier, but it’s him who deserves the most compliments. He’s really good at this. It’s so easy for him to engage in a superficial but polite conversation. Hello! I acknowledge your presence here! I am thankful that you came but I do not care enough to talk more than two minutes with you! Yes the weather is nice! See you later! All that with the prettiest smile and most genuine fake laughter you’ve ever seen (sounds contradictory but that’s exactly that). And they all fall for that. He’s so unbearably charming.

Which makes you wonder.

Jimin said that the whole purpose of bringing you to Hawaii was to upset his parents. But… he’s not really acting like someone willing to do that. Of course - maybe he knows that if he goes too far, his parents might really cut him off of their sweet sweet money fountain. Yet, it doesn’t match with what he stated earlier. Does he really want to piss his parents off? Or does he want to play the good boy so his parents leave him alone with this engagement thing? Those are opposites, he can’t want both.

Does he even know what he wants?

You’re unsure.

Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have accepted this insanity, the little anxious voice in your head says. Maybe he really is too immature and is about to fuck me up. 

Jimin gives a little pat on the hand that holds his arm and smiles. 

“We’re doing really well, pretty. I’m relieved that you’re here.” He says quietly. “This kind of event always stresses me out, but you’re making this easier.”

Don’t go around saying cute shit like that while I doubt you!

You avoid his gaze and sip a little bit more of the champagne you picked earlier from a waiter. “It doesn’t look like you’re stressed at all.” He shrugs.

“I’m method acting, too. Kinda used to it at this point.”

And there it is. That quiet sadness in his eyes.

Goddamnit.

All the questions in your head crumble to the ground, and you immediately want to comfort him like a baby.

That’s not a baby. It’s a grown ass man. Get yourself together. 

The voice in your head is angrier now - and she’s kinda right, to be honest.

Jimin sighs and pats your hand again. 

“Okay, we’ve wandered around enough. Food will be served soon… so we have to get seated.” He doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t despise the idea of having to sit with his family for another torturously long dinner. 

“Okay.” You nod, placing the now empty champagne glass on another waiter’s platter. You inhale, trying to gather more confidence. “Let’s go.”

So, you start walking towards the table at the front of the stage - the most important one where everyone can see from all directions. 

They’re already there, surrounded by their closest friends.

At every step, you try to gather more and more anger within yourself - this anger will fuel your confidence and muffle the nervousness (in theory). Fuck this middle aged billionaire couple. Fuck their matching cream outfits - Mr. Park Hyunjun wears a very traditional (read: boring) cream suit, while Mrs. Park Eunji wears a long, flowy dress with blue details in it and beautifully embroidered with silver patterns that seem to remember a soft breeze. A beautiful pearl necklace adorns her neck and modest cleavage. Their outfits are very “age appropriate” and posh, indeed, and they are an attractive couple, but everything about them is so painfully traditional.

Also fuck the way they look at you two with disapproval.

Another nauseatingly fake scene unfolds in front of your eyes - Mrs. Eunji giggles and side hugs Jimin, gushing over how handsome he looks (she can’t hide the obvious distaste for his black outfit, though). 

“What an… interesting choice,” she says, touching the embroidery on his blazer with her fingertips. “Rather dramatic, I’d say.”

Jimin smiles. “Everyone looks good in black, you know. Also, I didn’t want to stand out.” 

Bullshit. No one else is wearing black because it goes against the dress code. The way he said it so innocently would make any unsuspecting ears believe him, but his mom is certainly not one of those - neither are you. 

“Of course, black can make anyone look presentable at least. Y/N is live proof, isn’t she?”

She eyes you from head to toe and smiles sweetly.

Holy fucking shit. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

Her tone. The way she looks at you. Her awful Tom Ford perfume that makes you want to vomit as she approaches and - gasp - side hugs you too, like a good and loving mother-in-law. You smile and give her some soft pats on her back, but God, you can’t act as well as her at all - although you force yourself to do your best, well aware that all eyes and ears are focused on the Park family.

“You look astonishing tonight, Mrs. Park,” you say between gritted teeth. “This color really suits you.” Cream is boring. Like old paper. You almost smell like mold, too, rattlesnake.

“I’m glad you think so.” She’s not glad you think so. “See, me and Elie spent a long time choosing the color palette for this dress… he did such a wonderful job in the end.” She widens her eyes slightly. “Oh! My apologies, you can’t possibly know who I’m talking about…”

“Elie Saab.” You promptly say. Of course Elie Saab himself designed a dress for her. “Yes, I know his work.”

“Really?” She raises one eyebrow and this small movement spreads anger through your system. So much disdain, and she just said a word. “I didn’t think you’d know such a highly regarded fashion house, since you seem so… humble.” She has the audacity to eye you up and down with disgust again. “A wonderful trait to have, you see! Our Jimin definitely needs someone in his life to teach him some humility.”

In all honesty, you don’t even know how to respond to this.

Your wanted reaction is to reach for the nearest fork and stab her face with it. Which is, unfortunately, socially inappropriate. You also think of calling her by the ugliest names in existence, which, unfortunately is also socially inappropriate (won’t take you to jail, at least).

But all you can do is keep that smile plastered on your face and anger in your eyes.

This level of contempt is not unusual. 

Alpha High taught you to get used to it. The giggles, side glances, or straight up offenses spoken out loud so everyone could laugh at your expense, too. It taught you to accept it silently, because you knew no one would stand up for you; you didn’t have enough money or a heavy surname to back you up. You weren’t important enough. Who cared if you had an excellent academic performance? It wasn’t as cool as having a summer manor in Greece anyway.

You hate that no clever response comes to your mind. You hate that you can just stand there and awkwardly look at her - this woman that made you feel cheap even though you have diamonds sitting around your neck. You hate that, deep down, you’re feeling as cornered as you were as a defenseless fifteen year old standing on the school hallway.

Not a fun feeling at all.

And things just start getting progressively worse.

Before even Jimin gets time to say something, another couple approaches - and your blood freezes. You’ve seen them yesterday at the reception dinner and earlier today, now feeling a little stupid that you didn’t make the simple connection. They’re followed shortly by another person, a much familiar and hated face. 

Eunbi’s parents, apparently; Mr. and Mrs. Jeong.

Now that you look at the three of them, the silly part of your brain wonders who Eunbi inherited her beauty from, because they don’t share much of it with her, let’s say. They’re impeccably well dressed, of course, but their daughter’s beauty steals all the attention. She wears a rosé pink minidress (is it MiuMiu?) with a straight neckline and thin straps. On her ears, diamond earrings that seem to resemble raindrops; around her neck, a diamond choker necklace. Everything combed with the subtle makeup gives her a young, cute look.

You measure each other up and down like two rival lions about to fight. Complete opposites, black and pink. 

The tension is so extreme that it’s almost visible - like some kind of fog.

Jimin is the one to break the ice, stepping closer to greet the couple, and you do the same, glad that you don’t have to look at Mrs. Rattlesnake even for five seconds - though this other lady also hates you, apparently. It’s kind of amazing how Jimin can act like the heavy tension isn’t there at all.

The seven of you stand there smiling for long and silent five seconds. It looks like a smiling contest. You can’t tell who’s angrier.

“So… Y/N, right?” Mrs. Jeong says. She looks like an eggplant, some part of your brain remarks silently, almost making you (very inappropriately) giggle. “It’s such a surprise that you and our Eunbi were classmates. We would’ve never guessed.”

If that’s even possible - your anger levels increase. It might’ve sounded like a pretty normal thing to say, but her tone and the way she measured you up and down makes it clear that what she really meant was we would’ve never guessed that a nobody like you also studied in Alpha High.

“We were surprised, too.” Eunbi says before you can, smiling sweetly. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“This is a great excuse for you to come with us to a day at the Spa tomorrow, isn’t it, Mrs. Park?” Eunbi’s mom says, eyeing the other woman knowingly.

“Of course! Y/N and Eunbi must have a lot to catch up after all these years, right? Y/N, you have to come with us tomorrow.” Rattlesnake hisses- (oops) says.

You look at the two other women with uneasiness.

First of all, this doesn’t sound like an invite, but a summon. You simply know you can’t say no. Second of all - these three despise you, they wouldn’t want you there if they didn’t have second intentions. What do they actually want?

You want to say no thanks, but it feels like you’re handcuffed in this situation.

“Sure. It sounds refreshing,” you finally agree with a painful smile. It didn’t even happen yet, but you know tomorrow is already ruined. Don’t let these bastards get to your head, your inner voice advises; don’t show weakness. You can deal with them.

Yeah, right.

You notice that, surprisingly, Eunbi looks very uncomfortable with the whole idea; she avoids her mother’s gaze and looks down, smile faltering a bit. She doesn’t want to be around you as much as you don’t want to be around her, apparently. At least you can agree on something.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Park stepping closer once again, placing his hand on his wife’s back. “Dear, dinner’s ready and about to be served. We should take our places.” 

“Of course. I’m sure all of us are hungry enough.” She turns around to the other guests to announce it loudly, and somehow all the nearly one hundred people manage to hear it, walking to their respective seats.

Respective seats.

The seats are all charted - something you only saw in movies before, but you should’ve expected it at this point. Coming closer to the round table, you notice that over every beautiful white and blue porcelain plate, there is an elegant tag name in golden lettering on top of it. Mr. and Mrs. Park; Hyungsik and his wife sit by Mr. Park’s seat, while Jimin’s place is by his mother…

And by Jimin’s seat…

You freeze. Jimin freezes, too.

Jeong Eunbi’s name tag.

Feeling your stomach drop, you look around, searching for your own name tag - but there’s none to be seen, and it’s getting increasingly embarrassing as everyone else sits down while you and Jimin remain standing.

Your throat gets dry.

“She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect,” Jimin said as you walked inside the hall. This made you think she wouldn’t want to embarrass you.

Oh, Jimin. How wrong you were.

“Hm, there must be a mistake.” Jimin speaks up. The smile is still there, but his eyes hardened and his breath gets deeper as the visible anger fills him. “Where is Y/N’s seat?”

“Oh! Jimin, dear… this is a bit unpleasant,” his mother says, stepping closer with clasped hands and (fake) apologetic eyes. “You know that we planned this event months prior… the charting was already made long ago. We didn’t know Y/N would be here today. Unfortunately, there was no time to tell the catering staff to provide one more seat at our table.”

Funny how your legs start feeling cold all of sudden.

It’s the second time you’re at a loss of words tonight, this time much worse than before. You grip Jimin’s arm just a little tighter, feeling how the situation is starting to get people’s attention. Mrs. Park isn’t trying to be quiet right now. Your legs are cold, but your neck and face suddenly warm up with embarrassment as the guests on the main table whisper among each other in confusion.

“We found a vacant seat, of course, right over there, Y/N,” Mrs. Park continues - for fuck’s sake, she just continues - pointing over to the other side of the hall. “With the Kim family. You’ll love them, I know it!”

Your brain can’t process a coherent sentence. 

With the corner of your eye, you notice Eunbi standing a few steps away awkwardly. She has the decency to look embarrassed, at least. Everyone else at the table is already seated.

You’re… you’re supposed to be their daughter-in-law. Their younger son’s girlfriend, the first girl he ever brought over. Yet… they refuse to let you sit by Jimin’s side on the main table, the hosts table, and want you to sit alone on the back so they can set up Jimin and Eunbi. And they’re doing it publicly.

This is the type of humiliation you wouldn’t expect from an adult, a mature person. But it’s happening nevertheless, and you want to sink and disappear. You can’t think of a quirky comeback, a way out that would make you feel less humiliated - even though Jimin isn’t even your real boyfriend and these people aren’t your real in-laws. This trip feels like a mistake, like a bad idea, like Mr. Zhou was absolutely right in his warning.

You’re so overwhelmed by this sour feeling that you don’t notice how Jimin’s smile disappears.

He sighs heavily, looking at his feet, jaw clenched.

“Okay.” He looks up at you - and you’re taken aback, because you’ve never seen Jimin angry before. “Y/N, let’s go back to our room.”

And he starts walking away, taking you along by the hand.

“What? Jimin- where’re you going?” Mrs. Park says, making Jimin stop. “Dinner’s about to be served.”

You see the warning in her eyes and gritted teeth and hardened smile, but for once, Jimin doesn’t play along. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak louder, but when he does speak, it’s in a hard and serious tone.

“If Y/N doesn’t have a place here, neither do I. I don’t see why we should stay in this situation.” He doesn’t bother to whisper, aware that he has the table’s attention. “Now, if you’ll excuse us...” 

Oh shit. He’s angry and offended. Jimin turns around again, holding your hand tightly. 

In the midst of all the bad feelings, this is so satisfying. You’re simply happy that Jimin didn’t leave you on your own, didn’t lower his head to his parents. He stood up for you and is genuinely pissed! His mother is still babbling - she for sure didn’t expect Jimin to want to leave like this - and even Mr. Park got up from his seat; Eunbi is pale, her parents watch in disapproval, similar to Jimin’s older brother, who glares at him as if he did something wrong.

“Wait, Jimin, please,” someone else says, which catches both yours and Jimin’s attention: Mr. Hwang. He’s gotten up and looks between you and Mrs. Park cautiously. “I am sure we can solve this situation very easily. There’s no need to miss this amazing night.”

Mrs. Hwang also gets up; her eyes are widened with worry and an uneasy smile. “I am sure everyone at this table can move a little so Y/N can sit with us.” Murmurs of agreement echo around, much to the Park’s displeasure. “Waiter, please? Could you assist us?”

You and Jimin eye each other as Mrs. Hwang politely asks a nearby waiter to bring another chair, while the guests start getting up with no protest to open a little spot by Jimin’s side. In no time, there is one more chair at the table; another waitress hushes to bring a new set of plates and cutlery. 

“See? It’s done! Not a big problem at all.” Mr. Hwang says happily; the guests at the table also seem content. 

“I guess we can all sit now, right, Jimin?” His wife says. “We all would hate it if this lovely young lady missed the concert.” And to your surprise - the table agrees.

You look at Jimin again. He doesn’t look happy - not at all - but it seems that he softened up a bit because of the Hwang couple; same goes for you. If this was a competition for Best Middle Aged Couple, the Hwangs would’ve won it by far.

He raises an eyebrow at you - a question. You shrug and nod in small movements. Although you’d rather not be here, at least Mrs. Park looks infuriated that her silly little plan didn’t work and she in fact caused a ridiculous scene. Her attempt at embarrassing you completely backfired.

Jimin sighs heavily and, instead of saying anything, walks back to the table once again. The guests sigh in relief; Eunbi looks even more awkward; the Parks are fuming. Jimin pushes the chair for you to sit, and as you do, a little spark of victory fills your chest. 

“I’m glad this is solved,” Mrs. Park says, glaring at you as if she wants to stab you with the nearest knife, a lip tightened smile. “I hate unforeseen events.”

You are the unforeseen event. About to be the worst she could ever imagine.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Park. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” You say sweetly. Jimin does his best not to laugh; she definitely wants to stab you. 

Me 1 x 0 Rattlesnake

A win, at last.

Everyone at the table does their best to forget The Seat Incident for the sake of a good mood. 

Lighthearted conversations. Good (amazing) food. The band plays soft background music. Understandably so, neither you and Jimin talk much - he is still visibly upset; chooses to just respond whenever someone mentions him or makes quiet comments in your ear from time to time. You, on the other hand, don’t talk much because the person sitting by your left side is Eunbi and you’d honestly rather swallow nails than willingly have a conversation with her.

All things considered, everything is going alright. They’re asking fewer questions than yesterday, which is great, so you can focus on whatever the name of this thing you’re eating is - taking small bites and chewing slowly so you don’t look impolite and desperate for food. Your stomach twirls every time you hear Jimin’s parents' voices, though, which makes you enjoy the taste less.

You’re doing great, you mentally pat yourself on the back. A few more hours and you’ll be back in your room. Just get this over with. 

After pretty much everyone is done eating - your stomach is so full that the dress becomes uncomfortably tight -, Mr. Park gets up from the chair and softly clicks the side of a knife on a crystal glass, enough to call everyone’s attention. You notice when a waiter swiftly places a mic on the table for him.

The band stops. Everyone goes silent. Mr. Park Hyunjun takes the mic, a soft smile adorning his features, as the spotlight focuses on him.

“Good evening once again, my friends.” His deep and elegant voice echoes softly through the speakers. The whole hall greets him back. “I hope everyone enjoyed this amazing dinner prepared by Chef Mauro Bianchi. Mr. Mauro, it is a pleasure to have you with us once again.”

A round of applause. An aggressively Italian man with a cook outfit politely bows and smiles as the spotlight focuses on him in the back of the hall, close to the kitchen doors. Of course Mr. Park only acknowledges the worldwide famous, I-don’t-know-how-many-Michelin-stars holder Chef, but not the entirety of the staff that helped organize and serve everyone. 

“As most of the friends present here already know, me and my dear wife prepare this event every year not only as a celebration of our union, but also as a celebration of all the many achievements and challenges we win throughout the year.” He makes a dramatic pause, his eyes scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is paying attention - and everyone indeed is; despite your hatred for the man, you can’t deny that with this level of oratory, he could’ve easily been a news anchor.

He offers his hand to help his wife get up from the chair as another round of applause echoes. Mrs. Rattlesnake has a pretty smile, you have to admit. Once again - yeah, they do look great together, and otherwise you’d think this is all too sweet, but there’s just something inherently wrong with this scene… too poised, robotic - trained to detail.

“And past year was indeed one of the most significant of our lives. After much work, Aurum ranked fifth place as one of the biggest steel companies in the world. We’ve achieved heights my parents would’ve never imagined.” He continues. More applause. What does it even have to do with his marriage? “Unity. This is the word for our 30th anniversary. Everything we’ve made and built, we did together - and I’m sure we wouldn’t have gotten this far if we were apart.” Oh, so your fortune was “achieved” because of your wife? I thought it was because of the already rich company your dad left on your hands. 

“And the oyster, my friends, is the perfect symbol of unity; it summons up our life as a couple very well.” He looks at his wife sweetly. You have trouble telling if Mrs. Rattlesnake’s glossy eyes are fake or not. “An oyster. Two shells, pressed together - working together to create the most beautiful pearl. And our pearls, our jewels - the biggest gift this marriage brought us both - is our two sons.”

My God.

You want to vomit.

The applause is a bit louder now as the spotlight focuses on both Jimin and Hyungsik. Both of them smile and wave to the public. If you hadn’t spent the most uncomfortable hours of your life around this family, you would’ve fallen for Mr. Park’s sweet words - but hell no. I mean, it might be true about Hyungsik - but Jimin? The dear son they very publicly disrespected only barely an hour ago, by ignoring his partner? The dear son they mock constantly, scold, disrespect, and want to force into an arranged marriage against his will?

These people genuinely make you sick.

You’re a bit surprised as Jimin grabs your hand under the tablecloth, where no one can see. You take it and squeeze softly. He wants to vomit as much as you do.

“You two are live proof of our love, and we are so proud to know you’re our children.” The applause continues as Mr. Park speaks this time. Kind of funny how he says that while Jimin himself stated that he sees his parents once a year. That’s not the behavior of someone that cares this much. 

“Unity. Family. Love. Friendship. It’s what we’ve been harvesting together for the past 30 years, and I couldn’t be more happy and grateful.” He squeezes his wife’s hand sweetly. “Now, let us celebrate together, my dear friends.”

The lights go off while the hall applauds; the band starts playing again, way louder this time - a melody you’re familiar with - and when all the spotlights focus on the stage-

You gasp loudly.

“What the-?!” You whisper in utter shock. Jimin chuckles.

The woman standing on the stage is… is Kim Gain.

Like, why are you even surprised at this point? What, you thought the Parks would’ve hired a bar singer for their super expensive wedding anniversary? But even so, you didn’t expect to be seeing the 90s love songs’ legend Kim fucking Gain standing a few meters away from you, wearing a gorgeous long silver dress, her beautiful and powerful voice filling the hall as she sings her all-time smash hit Flower Hill. This woman doesn’t even do concerts anymore! You can’t even imagine the insane amount of money they must’ve paid her to do a private concert. 

She sings looking directly at the main couple, and God- despite the age, her voice sounds even better live than recorded. It makes you forget for a while all of tonight’s awful events. You quietly hum along to the lyrics of Flower Hill word by word - it’s impossible to not know this song, not only because it’s a classic, but because it’s your mother’s favorite song and she hammered it into your head.

Your memories are as clear as the blue sky; your mother played her CD over and over again - this song specifically - while she prepared lunch. You helped her peel the boiled eggs, standing on a stool so you’d get tall enough to reach the sink, while she cut cabbage swiftly. You both sang along to Flower Hill. Even your father would hum along eventually as he put the dried bowls on their respective cabinets.

It’s a good childhood memory. One of the few. You remember thinking that your mother looked so beautiful when she wasn’t frowning and angry at you.

And all of sudden - sadness hits you like a truck.

Funny how being humiliated in front of these people didn’t even get close to making you cry the way just thinking of your mother does.

You sigh and look down, that familiar heavy thing growing in your chest, stubborn tears that you blink away before they can even come. Shit shit shit. Don’t you dare to cry here, Y/N, you scold yourself harshly. But goddammit- Mrs. Kim Gain sings really well, and when the chorus hits, you always melt away.

It’s moments like this that remind you that you are, in fact, not indifferent. And you are, in fact, far more hurt that you can put into words.

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s hand for comfort.

He eyes you quietly, confused - but chooses to not make any comment.

You elbow Jimin’s side, eyes squinted, as if unsure of what you’re seeing.

“What?” He asks, relaxing on the chair next to yours, now sitting on a table at the external part of the hall. Finally some cool night air; from the external part, you have a wonderful view of the immense garden that goes down the hill directly to the sea. You can see the pier down there; it’s full of parked yachts - much more than during the day - but there’s some in the distance as well, shining against the otherwise pitch black sea like little stars.

“Am I crazy,” you say after sipping more champagne from the glass, “or that’s Kim Minju?”

You discreetly point to a certain girl standing inside the hall. She’s tall and gorgeous, wearing a green sundress. You’re not really into idols - you don’t have time to keep up with celebrities at all - but even someone like you can recognize Kim Minju, the new “it” girl from the new “it” group everyone’s been talking about lately.

Jimin squints his eyes as well, and when he sees who you’re pointing at, he nods. “Yep, it’s her.”

You raise one eyebrow up. “Why are your parents friends with teenage celebrities?”

“They’re friends with her mother.” Jimin sips from his own glass of champagne. He took his blazer off and rolled the shirt up to his elbows, looking much more relaxed now that he can finally stay away from his family. 

Kim Gain finished her concert, which meant people were allowed to just hang around and talk again, while the band kept playing background music. You decided to leave the main table as soon as you could, finding this almost-hidden table at the external balcony (you’re glad it’s this hidden, because it’s getting hard to sit all lady-like with your feet hurting like this. These Givenchy sandals were way too expensive to be this uncomfortable to wear).  Jungkook was hanging out with you two minutes ago, but suddenly something “very important” happened and he had to leave (in other words: some hot girl passed by and he went after her).

“And her mother is…?”

“One of MNET’s biggest shareholders, basically. Why do you think Minju is the most popular member? Her mother pays for her to be the center, to have the best clothes… this kind of thing.” He speaks in a low voice, aware of the people around. “Most popular idols are only popular because their families pay for their popularity.”

“Oh.” Makes sense. You look him up and down, the hint of a playful smile on your lips. “You could’ve asked your parents for help in this area, Jimin. You would’ve made a great idol.”

Jimin chuckles and pushes his hair back. “I know, right? But I don’t think I would survive a day in this life. I mean- a dating ban?” He scowls. “Just no.”

You chuckle too, resting your chin on your palm. You’ve only been sipping champagne - though they’re serving other interesting drinks, too -, afraid to get even slightly intoxicated and embarrass yourself (and Jimin) in front of these people. Even so, this champagne is starting to make you feel a little funny inside. Maybe I should stop.

“How do you even know this dating ban thing is real?” You raise one eyebrow at him. Jimin huffs.

“I had a thing with this idol girl for a while.” He says nonchalantly - then interrupts himself, as if he just realized he said something he shouldn’t. He eyes you apologetically.

“I don’t care if you talk about other girls.” You assure, rolling your eyes. And you actually don’t. It’s not like you have anything real going on for you to care. (You’re quietly blaming your rage fit against Hari earlier today on the alcohol).

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why would I?”

Jimin looks at you in silence.

“Kinda hoped you’d be jealous.”

You laugh it off, furiously ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “Just tell the story, Jimin.”

He seems dramatically disappointed, which makes you giggle again. Jimin sips more champagne and tilts his head.

 “So… me and this girl. Whenever we went out together, we had to literally - I mean literally - hide. Wearing masks, sunglasses, hoodies, all this stuff. At the beginning it was kind of fun, but then it got unbearable. Her manager kept calling her all the time to know where she was. One time, a paparazzi caught us and I had to pay them a shitton of money to not release the photos.”

“Why didn’t she pay for it? Or her company?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Because her company didn’t know. She didn’t tell them, scared of getting punished or whatever. And she didn’t have the amount they asked for. So I paid for it.” He shrugs. “Then I broke up with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, why did I have to hide?”

“Yeah, sounds like a strict life. I don’t think I could take it, either.”

You notice the way Jimin’s eyes glint with playfulness again; a mischievous smirk adorns his lips. He comes even closer to you and looks around, making sure the people aren’t paying attention to the conversation. 

“Back on the topic of Kim Minju,” he says in that quiet tone that means gossip. “Her mother is lesbian.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Really? How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things about a lot of people.” He discreetly points to an elegant woman standing near Kim Minju - maybe just a bit younger than Mrs. Park. “That one.” You squint your eyes to analyze her. “She’s been ‘single’ for around ten years, since her divorce with Minju’s father. She’s, like… the most famous closeted lesbian I’ve ever seen. In terms of how much people I know she fucked, she must be only behind Mr. Junghoon.”

Your eyes widen even more. “Jungkook’s dad?!”

Jimin nods vehemently. “Yep. He must’ve fucked at least half of this hall. All those pretty younger wives.”

You eye Junghoon - standing in the middle of the hall, laughing at something someone said. “Like father, like son, I guess.” Jimin chuckles at this. “I mean, he is very hot for his age.”

“That’s not even the craziest person here.” Jimin narrows his eyes, looking for someone into the crowd. You find yourself entertained by his sudden will to spill people’s lives on you - it even makes you forget how much your feet hurt for a while. When he finds them, he elbows your side lightly. “That couple over there? The Kwons?”

You take around three seconds to find them- a middle aged couple, a bit older than Jimin’s parents, perhaps. They seemed very polite (considering you talked for less than two minutes).

“Yeah?”

“They host massive orgies.” You look at Jimin in pure shock. He looks back at you with his eyebrows raised in that I know, girl expression. “They have a mansion in Malibu only for this purpose. They invite dozens of people to participate.”

You sip more champagne. That conservative looking couple host orgies? They look like the type of people that think women showing their ankles is a sin. Appearances really mean nothing around here! “Were you ever invited?”

“Thank God no. And I wouldn’t go anyway. Not into voyeurism.” Jimin makes a disgusted scowl. “But I know some people that went there. They’re pretty creepy, actually. Just… stay away from them, okay?”

“Noted.” You’ve watched enough documentaries about how rich people can be creepy to know Jimin isn’t kidding.

“There’s also, let’s see… oh! Jinwoo, over there.” He points to a man in his early thirties that you briefly greeted earlier today. “His marriage was arranged, too. I heard he has a severe humiliation kink. He likes to be treated like shit by women.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the bubbling giggle. Not to kinkshame anyone, but wow. “But his wife is not into it at all. From what I’ve heard, they even live in separate houses. So Jinwoo has to pay women to satisfy him.”

“I wouldn’t think that of him… he looks like the type that calls women females.” You remark. 

“People around here look nothing like they actually are.” Jimin sips more champagne. You expectantly wait for him to tell you more - (1) because you like gossiping (2) because this is the most fun you’ve had the entire night. “Oh! Minho and Krystal. Over there.”

Said couple is standing quite far, talking to Jimin’s brother and his wife. They must be in their early thirties, too; an attractive couple that haven’t stepped away from each other the whole time. You briefly remember thinking they looked cute together.

“Yeah?”

“They’re in a forced marriage, too. Minho is gay.”

You pause. “They look genuine.”

“They’re not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I met him in a bar last year in Berlin. He hit on me. Insistently. He’s friends with my brother, so I turned him down. But yeah, I saw him with other guys there.”

You look back at Minho in silence.

Oh.

This one’s kinda sad.

“So… he was forced into marrying a woman even though he’s gay.” You reason out loud. “Does his family know?”

“Probably not. At least, they pretend they don’t.” Jimin sips more champagne with a sour expression.

“That’s fucked up in so many levels.” You’re starting to get angry just talking about it. “He’s trapped with this woman, having to pretend his entire life? All for the sake of appearances? What, are we stuck in the XVIII century and nobody told me?”

“I told you that’s how things work around here.” He says, staring at the bubbles in his champagne glass.

And he actually told you. In your third encounter, back at the convenience store. But you didn’t believe him. It felt too far from your reality to be taken seriously. Now, though - after finding out that most of these pristine looking people, the “role models” of society are in secret what they most demonize - you truly realize how awful everything is. This much hypocrisy feels repulsive, overwhelming.

Is this how Jimin has been feeling his entire life?

“What about you, Jimin?” you ask quietly, any hint of playfulness gone from your face and voice.

“What about me?”

“What if you’re stuck in this situation? I mean, I remember what you told me back then. What if you want to marry a guy? Your parents would be against it… are you going to end like Minho? Having to pretend for the rest of your life? Can you accept this?”

Jimin sighs and hangs his head back, closing his eyes. You hate it because for a moment all you can look at is his half parted plump lips and your brain malfunctions for a sec.

“Let’s not talk about me, please?” He asks in a whiny, raspy voice.

“Why not? I’m worried about you. Can’t I be worried?” You put one hand on your hip, somehow starting to feel offended.

“No, you can’t.” He still hasn’t opened his eyes.

Yeah, you’re offended now. “Okay, then. I’m sorry for caring.”

Jimin looks at you with half opened eyes.

His voice drops.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“What?” You raise one eyebrow up.

“Act like you actually care.”

“Why do you think I’m acting?” You slightly push the empty champagne glass away, so nothing is between you two. Because he’s quieter, you unconsciously drop your voice, too.

“You said so. Method acting.” 

You’re getting tired of this “method acting” thing. You inhale heavily. “Well, I’m not acting right now.”

Jimin drops his eyes to his own empty champagne glass, drumming his fingers on the table softly. He makes a small pout. His lips are so damn attractive. “You know, I’m conflicted about you.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything real from you at all, since I hired you to be here. But why do I feel that something real is going on?” He looks up at you again. “But then, sometimes, I feel like it’s not? I don’t know what to think of you.”

Holy Shit.

He went straight to the point.

You feel goosebumps on your spine (though you try to blame it on the cool breeze hitting your back, not on Jimin’s piercing gaze, of course). It’s kind of creepy how Jimin can balance being silly and cute in a moment and then boom - painfully straightforward a second later. He didn’t beat around the bush at all.

And yeah, you get what he meant.

You can’t tell if something real is going on. It’s way too early to say something “real” - whatever it is - is happening; you barely even know Jimin. At the same time he doesn’t know if you’re serious, you don’t know if he is being serious; many times, it feels like he’s acting, putting up a character around you. The way you’re rapidly getting attached to him is scary - what if you’re getting attached to a character? What if you’re surprised by Jimin’s real persona in the worst way possible?

You have no idea about any of that.

What you know, though - something that is very real, is almost visible - is the undeniable attraction you feel for each other.

This isn’t deep. You don’t have to think much about it.

And right now - with the alcohol subtly fogging your judgment and making you feel hot inside; the accumulated tension - you don’t really want to fight back anymore. You don’t want to think of consequences. All you can think of is his pretty plump lips.

You smirk, resting your face on your palm again. You see how this single look of yours affects him. You’re not the only one that can do this, Jimin.

“You know,” your voice is very quiet right now; half lidded eyes that stare back at him with the same intensity. “Knowing everything isn’t fun. I think it’s better this way.”

You’re still in public, but it’s like everyone else becomes distant. 

Jimin smirks, too.

“Let’s play a game, then.” He says all of sudden, getting even closer to you, on the edge of his seat. “I’ll ask a few questions. You can answer them or not.”

You feel his hand on your leg, under the tablecloth.

This makes you widen your eyes, surprised, looking around discreetly. “What are you doing?”

“You said your feet hurt, pretty.” Oh shit. That mischievous tone, playful smile, glinting eyes. You’re a popsicle melting under his heat. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to giggle, as Jimin rests your left leg over his own legs. “Free massage.”

You’re kind of hidden - your leg is fully under the tablecloth - but you still look around frantically, trying not to make any weird face. “Jimin- they’ll see us.”

Jimin clicks his tongue at the same time he swiftly unbuckles your sandal and places it on the floor. Your heart beats faster with adrenaline - if any auntie sees this, they might want to arrest me! “They’re not paying attention to us.”

Indeed, no one is. Mr. and Mrs. Park are having a dance in the center of the hall; most of the crowd surrounds them. The place became dimly lit as the spotlight focuses only on the couple as they sway to a romantic tune and everyone watches them.

You’re about to make another complaint, but as both of his hands hold your aching foot, pressing it - you have to fight back what would be an obscene moan. It feels too good. Jimin chuckles.

“So, back on the game.” It’s criminal how he acts like he’s doing nothing wrong as his hands massage your foot. “Did you want to hook up with Hoseok?”

This comes so out of the blue that you freeze. “What made you think that?”

“I saw the way you looked at each other.”

Well. It’s not like Hoseok tried to pretend when he first saw you. “No. He’s hot, but no.”

Jimin nods. He seems satisfied with the answer. His hands work around your feet miraculously, pressing on the right spots, easing the pain. 

They go a bit up. On your ankles now.

Oh God.

“Did you want to hook up with Jungkook?” Still not looking at you.

“No.” You chuckle. “What got into you? Are you jealous?”

“I don’t know, am I?” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, making you smile. “I’d only be jealous if something real was going on between us, right?”

His hands are traveling up your leg, still massaging as they do. You gulp heavily. Your heart beats faster.

“Right.”

Your thigh.

You gasp quietly as, in a sudden movement, he pushes you even closer to his body. The chair scratches on the floor. You’re glad the music is loud enough to mask the noise. 

His hands are warm. His smirk widens.

Jimin massages your thigh slowly. You don’t make any attempt to stop him. His hands are resting just a little distant from the hem of your dress. 

You want them to be under it. 

Yes, you are very much aware of all the people standing around, the things they’d think if they notice what is going on. But Jimin’s hands are on your thigh and you feel hotter inside every minute and his delicious lips are right there and holy fuck he’s enjoying torturing you as much as you enjoy being tortured and- you don’t even remember what you were worrying about a second ago.

“You’re so soft.” He says in a quiet, sultry voice that makes your insides quiver. “Are you feeling better now, pretty?”

“Mmmh-hmm” you say quietly as your breath gets deeper - which makes Jimin smile even more. “You’re good at this, did you know that? You have a hidden talent.”

He chuckles darkly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “I could show you what else I can do with this talent of mine.”

His fingers - slowly, hesitantly - travel just a bit upwards, while he eyes you tentatively. He sees no disapproval or discomfort in your expression, which only ignites his excitement. He smirks and shakes his head slightly. 

“I’m actually going insane because of you, Y/N.” The smirk in his voice makes yet another goosebump run through your system. In response, you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him innocently.

“Why? I’m not doing anything.” You bite the tip of your tongue while smiling, which makes Jimin gulp.

Oh, the electricity. It almost sparks in the air with the power of a lightning. And to think you were trying to act all chaste not long ago, gaslighting yourself into thinking that doing anything with him would be equivalent as “selling yourself”.

Who fucking cares?

“Last question.” He says quietly, leaning even closer to you until his lips are right by your ear, sending shivers of excitement down your body. 

“Will you let finally let me fuck you?”

The words get stuck in your throat.

Jimin hasn’t been this obscenely straightforward up until now. It makes your mouth water, your heart beat faster. His voice wasn’t demanding. It was pleading. Like he was desperate for you and couldn’t take it anymore.

And that’s your last straw.

You lean away just enough to look at him. Fuck, he’s got pleading eyes, too. Your panties feel humid, you remember the last time you had sex was three months ago, you feel his warm hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your intimacy. 

You smile and, in a swift movement, move your leg away from his hand.

Jimin looks confused for a moment, his smile faltering, as you take the sandal and put it on your foot once again. He looks even more confused - maybe thinking you got offended? - when you get up and adjust your dress.

Then you look at him.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.”

Without looking back, you take the clutch from the table and make your way inside the hall.

The main couple is still having their moment in the middle of the hall - and for the first time you’re thankful to them, because no one even bats an eye as you discreetly make your way to the restroom. The dim lights hide you, not even waiters or security guards or photographers notice you. 

As you get into the black marble restroom - completely empty - you have around five seconds to look at your reflection in the mirror before Jimin walks in and shuts the door.

His lips on yours shut you mid-giggle.

Jimin grabs the back of your neck and glues his body on yours with the other hand as he hungrily kisses you - the kiss tastes like the cherry from your lipgloss and expensive champagne. You grab both sides of his neck as Jimin and you stumble to one of the stalls and you close the door clumsily. Holy fucking shit, it’s getting hot. The kiss is deep and desperate and full of desire. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says in a breathy voice that makes you smile seductively. “Why you gotta do this to me?”

You unconsciously squeeze your thighs on one another as he leaves a wet kiss on your neck; you grab his shoulders for support. “I’m not doing anything yet.”

He chuckles darkly against your skin, his hot breath increases your temperature even more. His hand travels down your back to squeeze your ass, making you gasp lightly. He leaves one more wet kiss, and another, and another.

Jimin leans away so he can look at you. His lips are reddish, wet and a bit swollen. 

“You don’t need to.” He parts your legs with his own. Your insides bubble with excitement. “Look at you… all dolled up. The prettiest of all of them out there.” He licks his lips slowly. “I want to make a mess of you, Y/N. I want to see how pretty you look with your hair and makeup ruined by me.”

His knee presses on your intimacy, making you involuntarily sigh; the pressure is still too soft, not even close to satisfying the raging fire inside your body, but it already makes you gulp and breath heavier. God, you want this man inside of you. You need him. 

Jimin notices your change in expression and his smirk widens as he moves his knee against you, making you sigh again. You kiss him eagerly. There’s still music out there, but all you can hear is the kissing sounds and breaths and Jimin’s deep humm of approval.

“This is the face I wanted to see the most.” He whispers on your lips, his leg pressed against you, his hands caressing your waist and hips. “Let me make you feel good, pretty… please?” He pecks your lips. “Hmm?” He bites your bottom lip lightly, passing his tongue on it right after. “Can I fuck you now?”

Shit shit shit. It’s embarrassing how you already feel this wet while you barely even started. Were you this much touch starved? Or is it because you’ve been wanting this as much as him since the beginning?

You kiss him again.

“Not here.” you whisper in a breathy voice.

Jimin nods. It’s obvious. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

Back to your shared bungalow? It’s too far from here - only five minutes by car, yes, but you don’t think you can wait this long. Not to mention Mr. Zhou would be the one to drive you both back and you don’t want to look at that old man’s face before having sex.

Inside some car? But which car? This place is full of butlers and security guards, anyone would notice what’s going on. Just no.

As you’re about to ask where you could head to - Jimin’s eyes glint in that way that tells you he had an idea. 

His smirk widens.

He steps back and grabs your hand with a boyish, playful expression.

“Let’s go.”

You have time to grab the forgotten clutch from over the sink before Jimin drags you out of the restroom - luckily, the hall is still dimly lit and there aren’t many people back here. Discreetly, you two make your way towards the back exit - avoiding butlers and photographers at the main entrance - stepping out of the hall towards the stairs.

You finally realize where Jimin is heading to when you get to the sidewalk and he takes a turn to the left.

The pier.

Dozens of parked and empty yachts just around the corner.

You’re both laughing childishly as you run towards the pier - stopping only so you can yank those sandals off; who the hell could run in stilettos? - not caring to look back, feeling excitement and just the sheer joy of doing something you know you shouldn’t. The pier is quiet, there aren’t many people around; most yachts are dark. Jimin doesn’t drop your hand as he squints his eyes trying to find a specific one. When he does, he sprints towards it, dragging you along.

Jungkook’s yacht.

Completely dark. Cleaners, bartenders, all the staff are long gone, having finished their shifts long ago. 

There is a security guard standing in front of the entrance stairs, though.

He frowns as you two approach.

“Hey!” Jimin says in a happy voice. “You’re… Steven, right? Remember me? We were here earlier today.”

By the looks of it, his name is Steven, and he looks shocked that Jimin remembers it. “Good evening, sir. Did you need something?”

“You see, Steven, I might have forgotten something very important in the yacht.” Jimin says. You want to laugh. “I’d like to go check it out.”

“Of course, sir. Tell me what it is, I can ask another guard to check it for you-“

Jimin steps closer.

“No, Steven. I need to check it out. It’s kind of personal, you know?”

Steven eyes you and Jimin back and forth. 

The penny drops. His frown deepens. You’re not even embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you in.” He says in a mix of hesitance and annoyance. “This is private property.”

“I know, Steven, and I’m glad my friend hired such a diligent security guard. You’re very professional.” Jimin is a bastard, isn’t he? “I promise I won’t get you in trouble. Just let me check, okay?”

Steven looks around. “I’m sorry, sir… I really can’t.” 

Jimin nods.

He drops your hand for the first time, reaching for the inside of his back pocket. 

You watch with your jaw dropped as he opens his wallet and puts a stack of money on Steven’s hand.

Jimin casually walks around with stacks of money in his wallet.

The security guard’s eyes are as widened as yours. That much money must be double - shit, triple - of what he’ll get for this shift. You see as his annoyance dissolves and his resolve to not let you in disappears.

“It’s a really tiny thing I’m looking for, so it’ll take, I don’t know… an hour?” Jimin looks back at you up and down and reaches for his wallet again. He takes another stack just as big and puts it on Steven’s hand. “Two hours, actually, to check the whole place.”

Steven gulps. It seems he’s furiously fighting against his work ethic - but the money on his hand is heavier. 

Steven steps aside, finally giving up. “Okay, sir.”

Jimin smiles and grabs your hand again. “Make sure to keep the other guards away, okay? Thank you so much!”

You two sprint up the stairs - you have time to mumble an embarrassed “thank you” - towards the deck.

The yacht is completely dark, except for some emergency lights. Jimin guides you around it. You know there are actual bedrooms here, but both of you are way too impatient to go up one more flight of stairs - so before you can even process what’s happening, Jimin has thrown you against the bar counter and is kissing you again.

You drop the sandals and the clutch on the wooden floor before entangling your arms around Jimin’s neck. He presses his body on yours so hard that you lean back, your back hits the counter. And to think you were right here a few hours ago, surrounded by a bunch of people; it’s a completely different vibe with the lights off, silent, the darkness of the sea around you. 

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s ass, which makes him chuckle against your lips. He leans away for a moment and seems to be searching for something; with a click of his, the glass top of the counter lits up - there are red led lights under it. Both him and you are painted red. 

Jimin looks at you with hungry eyes, out of breath. That damn smirk.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this, pretty.” He pushes you closer again, grabbing your hair and leaving noisy kisses on your neck.

“I think I do.” You say cockily. You’ve been aching for him all this time - and it’ even embarrassing to admit it to yourself -; it’s embarrassing that Jimin is everything you learned to hate (filthy rich, arrogant, a fuck boy) from your past experiences, but shit, you’ve been wondering how he would feel inside of you all this time, you’ve been craving him since that night in your tiny apartment… and you’ve been wondering if he fucks as good as he talks.

Your hand bravely travels to his front. You rest your palm on his crotch, gently pressing it - earning a soft sigh from him. He’s stone hard. It makes you chuckle cockily against his ear, and the sensual sound sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. 

“No, no, no… you don’t really know.” His lips are on your ear as he speaks quietly and deeply. While one of his hands are still tightly entangled in your hair, the other travels down your back - which already almost makes you melt - to rest on your ass; in a slow but unhesitant movement, he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it up to your hips, fully exposing your ass. “Ever since that time at the store…” he massages your asscheeks with both palms and squeezes it gently. You lick his neck in response. “When you looked at me with such disdain… you were reading a fucking text book behind that counter, looking at me as if you were so much better than me… I imagined fucking you over that same counter, pretty.” Goosebumps. He grabs one of your thighs and you instinctively wrap it around his waist; when he humps his clothed core against yours, you can’t fight back a soft moan. “I imagined fucking you over and over again. Such a hard-working girl…” He humps again, stronger this time. “So pretty…”

Your impatient fingers search for the lapel of his blazer, and you help him take it off, dropping it on the floor; you grab his face with both hands and your lips are pressed again in a hot dance, while he still humps slowly and sensually; each rub on your clothed clit sends electricity and heat through your veins. Your lower part is almost totally uncovered, except for the black lace thong you wear, and the cool ocean breeze makes the tiny hairs on your body raise. Everything is red and hot. Some sane part of your brain registers that if there’s anyone inside the neighbor yachts, they will totally see what’s happening - and it only adds to the excitement.

Jimin breaks the kiss and leans back slightly with half lidded eyes. His lips are shiny and stained with your lipgloss. He’s so sexy that the vision itself makes you feel pleasure.

He grips your ass tightly and watches intently as his movements make your breath get deeper each time, makes you sigh and moan softly. His breathing is deeper, too; his Adam’s apple moves when he gulps. He licks his bottom lip sensually, feeling the taste of your sweet lipgloss. He keeps you glued to his body as both of you move your hips against each other, rubbing your clothed intimacies to a more urgent pace; there are already droplets of sweat starting to cover his forehead. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, watching you whimper. 

“Touch me.” Your voice sounds strangled and slightly out of breath, which makes Jimin smile darkly. “Please.”

“Baby, you don’t need to beg.” He’s so visibly proud of himself and excited that he’s almost glowing more than the red led lights. The hand that supported your leg swiftly travels to your front and he unashamedly presses it on your clothed core, feeling the lace with his fingertips and the wetness underneath. The smile widens. “I’m going to give you anything you want tonight. Anything.”

Your head drops back when he starts to move his fingers in circular movements over your clit. He watches your every reaction intently with that same darkened gaze and smile. With the other hand, he grabs the back of your neck and once again glues his lips to your ear: 

“I want to hear you moan for me, baby.”

He says as his fingers slip under the fabric of the thong.

You shiver and an obscene whimper leaves your lips when his cool fingers make contact with your warm, wet intimacy. He hums in approval - and the deep sound makes your legs shake -, feeling your arousal, before once again putting pressure on your clit and moving his fingers in provocative circles. That’s a man that knows what to do with a clit, by the way. You entrance tightens around nothing.

“You like that?” He whispers. You nod, eyes closed, lips half parted. “Hmmm…” is all you can say. His smile widens.

Instinctively, you start to buck your hips, following the movement of his hand. He increases the speed of his movements, noticing your eagerness. You feel the fire spreading from your core down your legs and stomach.

With a quiet chuckle, he suddenly wraps his other arm around your waist. You let a surprised gasp as Jimin lifts you from the ground with ease and makes you sit over the counter (you hadn’t realized that Jimin is that strong, which is kind of hot).

He stands between your legs and kisses you again. Your fingers run through his smooth hair; he massages your thighs, back and ass. You softly bite his delicious bottom lip, and it’s sick how you know he’s smiling before even opening your eyes.

“You want me so bad, baby. It’s kind of cute.” He breathes amidst a quiet chuckle. 

“You’re talking too much.” 

He chuckles again as his fingers search for the zipper on the back of your dress. “I can’t shut up when you’re around.” The quiet sound of the zipper somehow sounds loud right now. “I want you to pay attention to me and only me.”

“You have all of my attention now. Let’s see if you deserve it.” Jimin finds it sickening how you sound innocent and sweet as you say this, gazing at him with the most daring eyes he’s ever seen. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, let’s see.”

Usually, you’d worry about taking the dress off, scared to damage it somehow, but as Jimin helps you lift it and put it over your head, you couldn’t care less. You’re not wearing a bra. Your chest is fully exposed; you rest your hands back on the counter, gazing at Jimin sweetly, as he almost drools over your body. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He breathes heavily, mesmerized. Without wasting a second, he cups your breasts with both hands and squeezes them gently, earning a hum of approval from you. He kisses your neck, making his way down - slow, wet, loud kisses -, tasting you; you grip and massage his smooth hair, pulling it softly in ways that make him shiver.

When he hungrily mouths one of your hardened nipples, you bite your bottom lip and a soft moan escapes. Just the vision of his plump lips wrapped around your nipple makes you wetter. He swirls his warm, wet tongue around it, while his hand still works on your other breast, massaging it in delicious movements. He sucks your nipple, making a loud noise, before biting it gently - earning a hiss from you.

“I like that sound.” He says against your skin, looking up at you with a smile. “God, you’re delicious.” He kisses a spot on your stomach, under your breast. “You smell so good…” Another kiss. Lower this time. “I want to eat you.”

You giggle, biting your lip provocatively - as if his actions aren’t making you go insane. “Then do it.”

It’s his turn to laugh as he shakes his head; his smile is angelical - even though, right now, with the red light painting his face as he helps you position your feet on the counter - your hands supporting the weight of your body as you lean back slightly, totally spread and exposed for him -, he looks like a hungry demon.

God. You never had sex in such an open place before. The ocean breeze hits your body, making you shiver, at the same time that you’re burning from the inside, trembling in expectation. Jimin takes the hem of your thong and helps you take it off slowly, well aware of how painful making you wait is. He drops the last piece of clothing to the floor before grabbing the insides of your thighs, spreading you even more.

You’re naked and open over a bar counter, where anyone from the neighboring yachts can see you, with a million dollar necklace around your neck - and you’ve never been so aroused before.

Jimin licks his lips, eyes locked on your cunt. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” You bite your bottom lip hard when his fingers press on your clit in circular movements again for some moments before spreading your pussy lips with his index and pointed finger. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

He wraps his lips on your clit.

You throw your head back and actually moan this time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck - his plump lips around your clit feel like heaven, much better than what your dirty mind could think of. He sucks softly and licks you, from your entrance to your clit again, flicking his tongue over it (once again - that’s a man that knows what to do with a clit). His warm, wet muscle moving against your most sensitive part makes waves of heat and raw pleasure run through your body, completely clouding your mind, as your fingers grip his hair and moans and hisses escape through your lips. Your sounds of pleasure, the wet noises he makes as he sucks you and the ocean waves create the most obscene and beautiful symphony you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck-“ you manage to breathe out somehow. If he weren’t busy sucking your clit, he would’ve smirked cockily. “Feel so good, baby…”

He leans away for a moment, actually smirking this time. His lips are so wet that the sight makes you more wet. “Shit, if you call me like that again, I will cum in my pants.”

This makes you smile - but your smile goes away quickly as he carefully introduces two fingers inside of you, making you moan and bite your bottom lip. You’re so wet that they slide in easily - but you’re also very tight due to not being penetrated in a while, which makes Jimin move slowly. He watches your cunt with the attention of a professional. Fuck, he might be a pro at this, actually.

He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, making you lose your breath; Jimin pays attention to your every reaction. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-Yeah,” you moan, nodding, still biting your bottom lip. Jimin looks up at you with a fog in his eyes.

“You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N.” Somehow, the way he calls your name in that low tone instead of pretty sends goosebumps down your spine. He keeps eye contact while his fingers keep moving inside of you. He starts pulling them in and out, and you close your eyes for a moment, feeling shockwaves of pleasure every time he does so. Your breath gets shallow and quick, and out of instinct, you start bucking your hips, following his movements.

He mouths your clit once again while his fingers are still busy, making you moan louder. “R-Right there, Jimin-“ you stutter in a breathless voice. “Just like that…”

You don’t need to ask twice - he keeps hitting the same spot as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over it, slurping all of your juices. You grip his hair for dear life, incapable of doing anything but moan and hiss and sweat, feeling your legs shake. You also think Jimin looks so fucking hot right now - head between your legs, hair an absolute mess (your fault), wet lips and the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

It might be because you’ve been touch starved for a while, or because Jimin eats pussy too well, or because you’ve been dreaming of this moment with him - but you already feel the orgasm building up. “Don’t fucking stop,” you beg him - and he obeys, sucking and licking mercilessly; maybe even Steven down there can hear the squelching noise your pussy makes every time his fingers move, or your moans that make Jimin feel the hardest he’s ever been. A small pool of your juices forms on the glass under you, dripping from your entrance. Jimin works on your cunt like his life depends on it. You feel the overwhelming heat building up in your stomach, your body shaking, your lungs failing-

You grip Jimin’s hair hard and yank him away from your pussy as the orgasm hits (you pulled so hard that it hurt his scalp - and he loved it); he also loved how tight you clenched his fingers as the orgasm made you convulse, just imagining how it would feel to be inside you. He watches you with pride, all covered in sweat and helpless, your face contorted in pleasure. 

He takes his fingers out of you slowly, standing straight again to press his lips on yours - and you don’t care to taste yourself on his lips. Your legs are still weak and trembling when one of his arms once again wraps around your waist and he helps you stand up on the floor, never breaking apart.

“Baby, I need you around me.” He whispers between kisses - and it almost sounds like a whimper, which makes your legs even weaker. “Will you get on your knees for me? Hmm?”

It’s your turn to obey promptly - Jimin ate you out so good that he deserves it. Without saying anything, and still keeping eye contact, you get on your knees, batting your lashes prettily at him while your fingers work on his belt. Jimin takes some strands of hair away from your face, mesmerized; ever since you first met, he always looked at you in a way that made you feel attractive, and right now it has just increased tenfold.

Jimin unzips his pants and frees his cock from his black boxers. You gulp at the sight of his girthy, veiny cock; he’s stone hard, pulsating, and you wonder exactly how long he’s been hard already. He pumps himself slowly, while you once again lock eyes. 

“Shit- you look even better than I imagined.” He says in a low, breathy tone. Just the fact that your usually fierce and unbashful persona is obediently kneeled down in front of his dick, looking up at him with sweet round eyes (you’re too good at this), eyes clouded still recovering from your high, almost sends him over the edge. 

You stick your tongue out and lick his pink tip, immediately earning a hiss of pleasure. Your lips wrap around the tip and you suck gently at first, teasing him, never breaking eye contact, while he still pumps himself. Jimin gulps, licking his wet lips; the sight itself makes you tighten your pussy around nothing. 

“Open your mouth for me.” He says - and this time it doesn’t sound like he’s asking, meaning he’s more desperate. You promptly do so, sticking your tongue out again. He slaps his cock against your tongue, hissing - and it’s fucking evil how you’re smiling right now, he thinks - while his other hand grips the hair at the top of your head firmly.

He pushes in. Fuck - he’s big and fat and you gag around him, but at the same time, he tastes delicious, if it even makes sense. Jimin closes his eyes and throws his head back, starting to roll his hips against your face, as his hand still keeps your head in place and your lips tighten around his cock. 

“Shit– you look so good with my cock stuffed down your throat,” he hisses, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Drool and spit drip from the corners of your mouth, you gag and whimper, but it’s the daring gaze locked on his that tells Jimin he can just keep going. “So obedient, baby, taking me like a big girl… fuck– I want to cum all over your face.”

You hum with his dick in your mouth, sending vibrations that make him groan with pleasure. His balls slap on your chin every time he thrusts, and you keep your lips tightened around him, trying to give him the pressure he needs. There’s something sensual about you being naked while he’s still fully clothed - and you never thought you’d feel this way for anyone. He looks so hot with sweat covering his forehead, strands of hair falling over eyes, half lidded eyes and parted lips in a face of pure pleasure; fuck, you’d let him fuck your throat whenever he wanted, you’d suck him forever if it meant you would have this sight every time you did it.

His grunts and moans and hisses make you melt every time, even though his movements become more and more uncomfortable as he stuffs himself in your throat in quick thrusts that make you whimper and feel tears grow in your eyes. As if sensing this, Jimin yanks you off his cock and you gasp for air. He smiles at how messy you look right now, with drool dripping from your mouth and a thin layer of sweat over your forehead. 

“C’mere,” he breathes out, helping you get up and hurriedly guiding you towards a nearby sun lounger. Closer to the yacht’s balcony, the ocean breeze hits your body harder, making you shiver. “How do you want me to fuck you, hm?”

Without saying a word, you smile devilishly before getting on your fours for him; you arch your back and purr like a cat, ass up, chest touching the lounger. You're still smiling and biting your lip when you look at him from over your shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of your stretched pussy.

Jimin steps closer and massages your asscheek before slapping hard, earning you a soft hiss. “You’re amazing. Can’t stop saying that. You’re perfect, baby.” He grips your hip with one hand while the other guides his cock to your entrance, getting the tip wetter with your juices. “You’re so good that you make me wanna fuck you raw, baby.”

Truth is - you didn’t even think of protection, and you couldn’t care less in this moment, as wrong as it is - but God, when Jimin finally pushes in, stretching your pussy as both of you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t be more thankful that his cock is uncovered so you can feel his skin purely.

Your breathing fails and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight, adjusting to the pressure and the slight pain it causes. Jimin pushes balls deep in, slowly at first, throwing his head back in delight. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, pretty…”

He starts to thrust in and out, making you moan each time with the glorious friction you desired so much. “Fuck– f-feel so good, Jimin…” you purr, arching your back even more. He grips both sides of your hips firmly, increasing speed with each thrust; the sound of skin hitting skin repeatedly is everything you can hear beside yours and Jimin’s moans and grunts.

Every nerve in your body seems to be on fire. His cock punches deep into your pussy, pushing you closer and closer to actual insanity as your mind becomes incapable of noticing anything but the feeling of him hammering inside of you over and over again, his strong grip on your hips, stuffing you even better than you had fantasized. Sweat covers all of your body now, and the necklace hurts your collarbones since you’re pressed against the lounger, but you couldn’t care less right now. 

“I love hearing you moan, pretty.” He sounds out of breath and sexy. You gasp in surprise when, suddenly, he grips your hair and pulls it, forcing your head back. It burns your scalp; you hiss in pain, but the pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure and somehow doubles it. “Fuck– this pussy’s all mine. You’re all mine.”

You never thought Jimin was the possessive type, but people babble whatever comes to their minds when they fuck, right? That’s why, mindlessly, you have the audacity to agree: “Y-Yeah, baby, I’m all yours– ah!”

He pulls your hair even harder at the same time he takes it all out just to slam himself balls deep in again in a way that lets you see stars and drool. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck– he’s merciless, relentless in his quick pace, ruthless in the way he grips you and spanks your ass - but, at the same time, his mouth is full of praises, grunting how good you feel or how pretty you are.

You whine in protest when he pulls out entirely without warning. “Turn around, I want to watch you getting fucked.”

Once again, you do as he said without complaints - but instead of immediately laying back again, your hurried fingers unbutton his shirt and you make him take it off, which Jimin does gladly, since the fabric was already glued to his body due to how much he was sweating. You lay back; Jimin grabs your legs and puts both knees over his shoulders.

He takes his cock with one hand while the other holds one of your thighs, slapping it on your clit a few times. You watch his face distort with pleasure when he pushes inside of you again. Jimin picks a fast pace from the beginning, holding both of your thighs, focused as if he’s on a mission; all you can do is moan and whimper helplessly, massaging your own breasts while Jimin drives both of you closer to your highs.

He watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, your face covered with sweat, the way not even the ruined makeup makes you look ugly - and the fact that you’re wearing anything but diamonds somehow arouses him even more. You clench around him, pushing Jimin closer and closer to the edge. Neither of you are worrying about being quiet right now, and you can only hope that the ocean will be your ally in muffling your desperate moans.

But you’re suddenly forced to worry about it.

The sound of voices and steps yank both of you back to reality at the same time. 

Jimin stops moving. You and him look to the stairs barely five meters away at the same time.

Two voices coming closer.

“Sir, please-” you hear. It’s Steven’s voice - worried, almost freaked out.

And the second voice-

“B-But I’m sure I left it here somewhere…”

You both recognize it instantly.

A very drunk Jungkook.

You look back at Jimin with horror, eyes open wide, as he lets go of your legs and lays on top of you instead, shushing you. 

“Sir, please,” Steven’s panicked voice echoes again. “As I told you, the upper floors were waxed… you can’t go upstairs, it’ll ruin your shoes,” yeah, he came up with a smart excuse. But Jungkook keeps babbling about losing something, too drunk to understand.

If he comes upstairs, he’ll immediately see you. You’re not in a hidden spot at all. You want to get up and hurry away-

But then you look at Jimin again and he’s smirking devilishly.

He thrusts again, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

Before you can moan - he covers your mouth with his hand.

Your eyes talk. Are you seriously doing this?

His eyes talk back. Yeah.

He thrusts again.

And again.

Your eyes roll back, you entangle your legs around his waist. Fuck, these men down there could come upstairs at any moment. They can hear you if you’re loud enough. If they come upstairs and see you in this situation, you don’t know if you’ll get over the embarrassment. But Jimin’s cock is stuffing you so deep and so good. He hits your spot again, and again, and again, and his dick is thick and heavy, and he could tear you open that you wouldn’t mind - so you don’t push Jimin away. No, you tighten your legs around him because don’t he dare stop; you grip his back, you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet, but the fact that Jimin can still hear your muffled moans against his hand makes it hard for him to endure this much longer.

He hides his face on your neck in an attempt to muffle his own moans, biting your shoulder in a torturous slower pace now - if he goes too hard, the sound of skin hitting skin will be heard from the floor below. A part of your mind registers that Steven is desperately trying to lead Jungkook out of the yacht, while all the other parts are focused on Jimin’s member inside of you, his weight over your body, his teeth sinked on your shoulder. You can’t stop, neither does he. It’s like you’re in some type of trance.

After long, torturous minutes, you hear the voices going away.

Jimin is ruthless.

He lets go of your mouth and supports his body with his forearms on both sides of your face, pounding in despair; neither of you can take this much longer, it’s getting painful.

“F-Fuck, pretty, you did so well-” he somehow manages to breathe out, smirking in boyish excitement. “Such an obedient girl, hmpf, keeping quiet while I fuck you good…”

“Oh my God–” you whimper, feeling the second - and more intense - orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. “D-Don’t fucking stop, Jimin–”

“Yes, baby, I’ll make you cum again–” he swiftly leans away and places one leg over his shoulder again, spreading you in an even better angle. “You deserve it, baby- shit, shit, shit–”

He punches inside of you over and over and over again until your walls are clenched and convulsing and your toes curl and your eyes roll and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight and your whole body shakes in an explosive orgasm. You’re breathless, weak; it was an almost out of body experience. Did you ever cum this hard before? You don’t think so.

And it’s not time to think of yourself, actually, because when your brain starts recovering from the high, you realize that Jimin had pulled out and is pumping his cock desperately, trying to reach his high. You grab his wrist, stopping him, and - Jimin almost loses it - you meow: “C’mere, come in my mouth.”

You sit up and he kneels over you until his member is on your face and, without wasting a second, you put it all into your mouth until you feel him in your throat, sucking him eagerly. Jimin moans and grips your hair while you pump your head over his length, producing loud suction noises. You just want him to cum as hard and good as he made you.

“Fuck– fuck, Y/N, I’m coming–” he warns in pant, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

You still keep it open, though, sticking your tongue out, as Jimin blows his load on you. You feel his hot seed dripping on your face, feel it on your lips and tongue. You patiently wait until he’s milked dry. Then, you open your eyes.

Jimin’s hair is an absolute mess. He’s all sweaty, panting heavily, face flushed, shaking slightly; you’ve never seen him look so glorious.

He opens a tired smirk.

And, with your gaze locked with his, you lick your lips and swallow.

It’s like he came again just seeing you do this.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

It is your turn to chuckle.

Yeah.

Maybe you will.

You let cum drip on a million dollar necklace.

[911is]

There’s no way you could make me like Any of the main characters parents in 911

Like all of them suck ass, why try redeeming them if they have no redeeming qualities.

Like Maddie and Buck’s parents are insane, not only do you have Buck to only save Daniel; you told your probably 9-12 yr old daughter to never bring him up again, to act like he doesn’t exist..

Then you ignore Buck for all his life and make him feel as if he did something wrong; making him feel like a burden like a loser..

Then you get upset with Maddie when buck finds out about his dead brother that he failed to save. And you’re yelling and crying at him saying he never made your life easy.

And like was he supposed to ? He didn’t ask for any of that and Maddie didn’t either.

You practically abandoned her too because she ‘ran off with Doug’ you literally never gave you daughter a reason to stay or to trust you.

It’s them never thinking about Buck and his feelings and making him feel like a disappointment. Making him think that the only way to ever get their attention as a kid was to put himself in a bunch of dangerous situations.

And to get hurt because that was the only time that they ever showed him that they cared about him.

It was them always putting their feelings about the past first and thinking about their future with Buck.

______________________________________

Then you have CHIMNEYS DAD !! Like let’s talk about this man.

Not only do you neglect your wife and kid- your son who tried to build some—any type of relationship with you. And you just flat out refuse to acknowledge him. Then you guys move out to a different country/state whatever…

You guys stay out there for some years and you’re ready to go back but your isn’t and you’re like you know fuck you and bye ✌🏾

Then while you’re back at home your WIFE ! Your wife falls ill with cancer; and your first thought isn’t hey let me go be there for my wife and kid or anything- it’s like ‘what can I do vibe’ then your wife dies and you move on and have another kid.

You don’t comfort your son during his time of grief or anything, you just move on. Then years later the kid you have with your now current wife; is now moving out to where Your first son stays and you’re like watch him and help him..

You never really apologize or anything, you just move on with your life.

_________________________

For Eddie I have a whole other post for him

But it’s like for the moment the guy can even think- it’s was Eddie being there for his mom when his dad wasn’t.

It was Eddie at the Age of like 9 stepping up and being the man of the house. It was Eddie being there for his mom and trying to drive the car and get her to the hospital because shes in labor with Sophia, and he was probably did same thing with Adrianna.

It’s Eddie growing up way too early; it’s Eddie having Christopher and both Helena and Ramon are pressing Eddie to marrying Shannon and step up (which Yeah he’s got to take care of his kid) but Eddie and Shannon were literally teens and making them get married at that age just added a whole lot of pressure on them.

Even though Eddie doesn’t regret the marriage or anything; And still it’s Eddie going out to war and then coming back— to stay with his kid and it’s him move miles away from his parents—And it’s them saying ‘you can’t do that you’ve barely been around and he need and your son needs the best’ implying that Eddie isn’t what’s best for his kid ?

And them constantly after that telling eddie in their own way that what he’s doing isn’t enough- that he’s going to bring his kid down and he needs to do right by his kid..

And it’s never about Eddie and it’s never how’s Eddie (their son) doing— and how can they help be there for him or nothing. It’s always about Chris and never him.

-They didn’t comfort him when Shannon died and they definitely didn’t comfort her when she was alive and Eddie was out serving.

And they don’t comfort Eddie with the whole Kim thing either- like I get it Eddie messed up by seeing her and all that; but there this lady was with his whole dead ex wife’s face and he didn’t know what to do but to go talk with because— he’s so clearly hasn’t gotten any closure in her death,but I digress.

So with the whole Kim thing they don’t think to be like oh OUR son is clearly going through something and has been going through something for quite a long time— let’s take this moment and talk with him.. NO ITS

“ how could could you do this around Christopher”

“And what were you thinking”

“ he called us—and we think it’s best for Christopher to come with us”

AND YOU STANDING THERE WATCHING YOUR SON CRY TO HIS SON AND— And !?!?!!

——————————————————

So Much Much more for all of them

Like it’s not even funny when you out all of this to thought.