#thank you for the ask and letting me spread whatever this list is <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ettadunham]

spotify! 3, 15, 90 🤗

3 - Aerials by System Of A Down

15 - Willow Tree by Twin Wild

90 - Misery Business by Paramore

at least ms hayley herself understands that sometimes you gotta turn off the feminism and bop to misery business

[princessmisery666]

The Full Seresin Service - Part 2 of 3

Series Summary: You and Jake have been dancing around each other for a while. The Dagger Squad set it up so that the dancing stops, but a case of miscommunication could ruin it all.

Summary: The rules are set, the deal is made, and the Full Seresin Service begins. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Right?  

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: Fluff, flirting, teasing, smut, miscommunication.

W/C: 5.2k

Characters: Unnamed female reader (you/she/her), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado. 

Pairing: Hangman x Female Reader. Phoenix x Coyote.

Notes: Reader has a call sign. 

Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch - thanks for saving the smut section 😄 // all mistakes are mine. Special shoutout to @writercole

Graphics: made by me on Canva.

Master Lists: Series // Top Gun Maverick // Main

I do not give consent for this or any other of my works to be reposted/reworked or translated on to any other account or platform.

You take your bottle of wine and a glass to the room. Your credit card will not thank you, but you don't care right now. You need to drown your sordid thoughts of Jake dropping that fluffy white towel and showing you what’s beneath it.

While juggling the bottle, a glass, your phone, and book, you manage to slip the keycard in and elbow the door handle down, using your butt to open the door and shuffle into the room. 

“Oh crap,” Jake grumbles.

He grabs his T-shirt from the end of the bed, but it's too late. You’ve seen it all, and it doesn’t help that he cups himself, the fabric of the shirt perfectly shapes his cock. He has to be doing it on purpose.

“Sorry,” you say, but don't bother turning around now that he’s partly covered up.

“What are you doing back here?” It’s more of an accusation than a question. “I saw you in the bar.”

“I didn’t feel like reading after all,” you say, walking further into the room and placing the bottle on the nightstand. “What are you doing back here?”

“I lost concentration too,” he says, “came back to change, was gonna work up a sweat in the gym.”

“You brought gym gear?”

“Like you didn’t.”

Urgh. You hate that he knows that you did. You never planned to do a full workout. After all, you're on vacation, but you’d have done some light cardio at least.

You backtrack, annoyed at yourself that you're predictable or that he knows you're better than you like. “And I didn’t say I lost concentration. I’m not that easily swayed.”

He snorts a chuckle, “Could’ve fooled me.” His cocky smirk spreads wide. “You can’t keep your eyes on my face.”

Of course, your eyes betray you, drifting down to his crotch and back up again. “Well, that’s because I’m not blind, and I saw everything and can still see it ‘cause you're holding it like a…a…dick.” You realize your mistake and quickly try to correct it. “I don’t mean a dick like a cock. I mean, you’re a dick!”

Jake laughs, an actual stomach laugh, and you do not take to being laughed at lightly. You grab a pillow from the bed and launch it at him. Naturally, Jake, being Jake, catches it with one hand and replaces the tee with the pillow. 

“Better?” he asks smugly. “Now you can’t see it.”

“Whatever,” you sneer.

“That’s not a yes.”

“Jake,” you scold. “You promised you wouldn’t annoy me. And you’ve already annoyed me by letting Javy and Natasha set this whole thing up, so just stop, please.” 

“Wait? Set what up?”

“Don’t play dumb ‘cause I know you’re not.”

“Pretend I am.”

“The whole fuckin’ dagger squad set it up so we’d team up and win to send us here to…” Your arms flail around, searching for the word, but it doesn’t help, and you drop them, defeated. “I don’t even know what.”

Geez. You hate how flustered he makes you. When you are face to face and not in a cockpit, you always have to be careful about what you say. You're always conscious of how he can misconstrue something or turn it into innuendo. 

“Cosmo, I swear I didn’t know anything about that.” he pleads for you to believe him. “Coyote gave me the ice cream clue, but honestly, at the time, I thought he was playing me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say softly. “We’re here now, so can we just do what we said we’d do and stay out of each other’s way.”

“I will, I promise,” he states. “But I really need you to know I had no hand in setting this up. Us teaming up or winning, or you walking in here and seeing me naked ‘cause that’s disgusting, creep-level shit, and I swear it’s purely coincidence. Coyote texted me about you, and I needed an outlet, so I was going to work out, I swear.” 

“Fuck,” you huff, “Coyote and Phoenix strike again. She texted me, and I needed to stop thinking about it, so I came back here to drink away my…” 

“Feelings.”

“Thoughts.” You correct with an incredulous look. “I don’t have feelings for or about you, Hangman.”

“That’s bullshit,” he states. “You avoid being alone with me ‘cause you don’t trust yourself.”

Shit. He really does know you better than you thought. But you're saved by the bell, or rather the knock on the door. You walk to answer it and hear Jake moving around. You hope he’s dressing to go to the gym.

You take the ice bucket from the concierge and thank him before closing the door. So as not to get another peek at Jake, you keep your head down as you make your way back to the wine on the nightstand. You pour a glass and put the bottle in the ice. If Jake weren’t there, you’d probably swig from the bottle. You need to be done with the conversation and Jake.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he says sincerely. “If you answer me one thing.” 

You gulp half a glass of wine and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “What?”

“Why are you resisting this?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, turning to face him. He’s pulled on a pair of boxer briefs but nothing else. It makes it slightly easier to talk to him. “I’m not a true member of the Dagger squad. You all have this deep bond I’ll never be a part of. I had to earn my place, and sometimes, I’m still an outsider.”

“That’s not true,” Jake argues. “You’re one of us. None of us ever think otherwise.”

“Maybe,” you shrug with a half smile. “But you have a reputation, Hangman. You’re not exactly the stable relationship kind of guy. A couple of weeks with someone is the most you can manage. I know if I gave in to you, you’d get a ‘atta boy’ and proud slaps on the back, but me, I’d lose the respect of our friends.”

“You mean the friends who set this up?” he asks. 

He has a point, and he knows it too. You're silent for too long, and he slowly makes his way around the bed to stand in front of you. “You want this as much as I do. We make a good team. Scrap that. We’re the best team in the air. I wanna know if that translates to the ground, too. There’s something between us that each of us is trying to ignore and clearly failing miserably.” 

You laugh lightly because he’s right. “There’s nothing but lust between us, Jake,” you counter. “We want what we can’t have, the low-hanging forbidden fruit.”

“Ouch,” he laughs. 

“Don’t pretend you're not an easy lay,” you jest. 

The dig of his promiscuity doesn’t deter him. He steps closer, his eyes soft and his tone sincere. “Give me a chance,” he suggests. “A weekend pass. We’ll keep it between you and me. We’ll eat the forbidden fruit, and it’ll be our secret.” he winks. “No one has to know.”

He’s right. Again. No one would need to know, and they’d have no way of finding out. Sure, Hangman could be a douche and tell them, but what proof would he have?

He’s already wearing you down, so there’s no need for the extra, “I promise I’ll make it the best weekend of your life. No-holds-barred. Full Jake Seresin service,” but it’s nice to know he’s committed.

“You know I’m seeing someone. Klay, remember him?” 

“Please, that fizzled out a week ago for you,” he jeers. “You’ve seen him a total of three times in the last five weeks. Two of those were drinks at the Hard Deck, and I gave you a ride home. If I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve got a text saved in your notes telling him you don’t want to see him again. You're just waiting for the right time.”

You really need to put some distance between your personal and professional life. 

“I have two conditions,” you say. 

He nods, smile already morphing to an air of smugness. “Anything.” 

“Whatever does or does not happen, we remain professional. It doesn’t affect our work.”

“Done.” 

“No one knows anything,” you say sternly. “They can guess and speculate, but nothing is ever confirmed.”

“Done.” he holds his hand out for you to shake, but you have other ideas. Stepping into his personal space, you deliver a gentle kiss to his lips. 

His reaction is immediate. It’s a flurry of caressing, groping, and clothing being removed. A hand cradles the back of your head, and the other finds purchase on your hip. The press of his flesh against yours is electric, and you shiver as his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip.

Jake moans as you open up to him, deepening the kiss. His hand slips to your ass cheek as he slowly shuffles you both toward the bed, pink lips now suckling on your neck. You laugh as you both tumble onto the mattress when he misjudges the distance. He’s quick to follow as you shuffle toward the headboard, his mouth latching onto a breast, and his tongue swirls over the taut nipple.

“F- fuck,” you whimper as you arch into him.

Sharp teeth gently graze the nub, and he mumbles, “You have beautiful tits,” as he shifts to suck the neglected nipple into the damp heat of his mouth. Jake’s hands rest on your hips as he knees closer between your legs. A hand replaces his mouth, kneading your breast as he sits up. “I’ve wanted you like this for a long time.”

“Well, now that you’ve got me, what’s your plan?” you snark, eyes mere slits as you stare up at his pretty face. The smirk you typically want to smack from his smug features is now inexplicably sexy as he pops a brow.

“Well, I was thinking maybe a little begging…”

The hard pinch to your pebbled bud contrasts with the soft brush of fingers up your thigh, and your walls clench as goosebumps race across your flesh.

“Maybe a little screaming.” Jake leans forward and presses a hand into the pillow next to your head as the other splays over your stomach, thumb lightly brushing your clit.

You tilt your hips, seeking friction, and he chuckles, shifting his hand up and away from where you need him. Refusing to give him what he wants so easily, you bite your lip to keep the plea locked away.

“Now, now, none of that. I want to hear you.” Jake nips at your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. At the same time, he slips two fingers into your already slick heat, causing you to jerk and moan loudly. “There we go.”

Not wanting to give him the upper hand – you silently chuckle at the unintentional pun – you reach down and encircle his dick with a gentle squeeze.

The steady pump of his fingers falters as he growls, “Shit!” But he grasps your wrist to halt any movement on your part. “Nope. Not yet.”

“Jake,” you whine, dragging out his name. “That’s not fair.”

“I haven’t heard any begging yet.” The pressure of his grip increases, and he pulls his fingers from inside you, slowly licking each one clean as he stares you down.

You hate to admit how easily he got you worked up, but your body betrays you. You’re right on the precipice, and you want him to send you over the edge in the best way. Loosening your hold on his throbbing dick, you whimper, “Please…”

“What was that?” He releases your wrist, capturing your hand and entwining your fingers as he pushes them into the pillow above your head. “Do you need something?”

The smug smile is back, and you have reverted to wanting to slap it off his face, but instead, you give in and plead, “Please… please… I want you to make me come,” while plotting your revenge.

“That’s better.”

He squeezes your hand and swiftly pushes his fingers back inside you as his thumb circles your clit. 

Jake is as adept with his hands in the bedroom as he is in the cockpit of a fighter jet. Within moments, you’re screaming his name, your free hand gripping the back of his neck, your inner muscles contracting tightly around the fingers pressed against that sweet spot.

“Damn,” Jake groans, “that’s so hot. But we’re just getting started.”

Jake struts into the bathroom and presses himself to your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. He smiles at your reflection in the mirror while you set your toiletries out on the countertop. He lived up to his reputation, and after a few rounds of him making you come with his tongue, fingers, and cock you decide to shower to give you both some time to recover.

“You're getting all clean just for me to make you dirty again,” Jake smirks, kissing your shoulder and scrapping it away with his teeth.

“You can get me as dirty as you like,” you say, “but I need to shower.”

“Seems like a waste, but okay.” he shrugs and holds up the room service menu. “Do you want more wine or water?”

“Both,” you chuckle, “we’re gonna need to hydrate.”

“Copy that,” he says before smacking your ass and walking back into the room to put the order in.

You overindulge in the shower because the water pressure is impressive, and the waterfall showerhead is calming. You also need a minute, or ten, to get yourself in check. The sex is phenomenal, but Jake has surprised you. Shockingly, he’s respectful, attentive, and not as selfish as you expected. He constantly checked in to make sure you were okay, and that you liked what he was doing, and though he rarely needed it, he asked for direction. 

You recognize this is dangerous ground to be walking on, but it’s only a weekend, two nights of surrendering to your desires, and then it’s over. You can do this.  

There’s little point in dressing again. Jake is sure to have you naked and moaning again soon enough, so once you’ve showered, you opt for a t-shirt and clean underwear - you need to be somewhat presentable when room service arrives.

You're pulling the garment over your head as you leave the bathroom, but you freeze as soon as your head is free.

Jake is standing beside the prepared table, wearing nothing but a smile and a white towel slung over his arm. The dimmed lights and the candles dotted around the room create dancing shadows on the walls. The table is set for two - silver serving trays with large round lids hiding the delicious-smelling delights beneath them, and a bottle of wine is cooling in the ice bucket. A single rose in a slim vase adorns the center of the table, with a small gift-wrapped box set in front of it.

“Jake,” you gasp, unable to hide the shock.

His smile is full of charm and pride at the reaction. “I told you,” he says, walking closer, “full Seresin service.”

“I’m getting more naked butler vibes,” you jest, accepting his offered hand and letting him lead you to the table.

He laughs, pulling out your chair, “Same thing.” Quickly, he rushes around to his side, picking up the gift and handing it to you as he sits down. “I swear I picked this up before the whole setup and sex thing. It‘s meant as a thank you for letting me join you.”

Intrigue has you ripping off the fancy bow and paper with perhaps too much enthusiasm. It’s a bottle of your favorite perfume, thoughtful, expensive, and unexpected.

“You said it was your favorite back at the store,” Jake explains. 

“Thank you.”

It’s a lovely gesture, and though you don’t want to think about it, you can’t help but wonder how many women have been charmed by the Full Seresin Service. He clearly knows what you want, the romance of it all, but come Monday morning, this will all be a distant memory.

The following day is a blur of sex. Jake doesn’t hold back, and you each teach the other a thing or two. He takes a shower around four and has some kind of epiphany while seemingly enjoying the fancy shower because he exits with a wide grin and a burst of enthusiasm. 

“Do what you need to get ready for a fancy event,” he says.

“What?” you question, watching him pull on sweats. “I didn’t pack anything to wear to a fancy event, Jake.”

“Trust me,” he says, sitting on the chair and slipping his sneakers on. “Take a shower, do your make-up, leave the rest to me.”

“Where’re you going?” 

He grabs his wallet and phone, swipes the room key from the top of the dresser, and gives you a swift kiss. “Trust me,” he says again, leaning back to look at you. “I won’t be long, you’ve got an hour.”

He’s true to his word, and less than an hour later, he returns carrying three shopping bags and a proud smile. 

You’ve applied light make-up and styled your hair, “You look good.” Jake compliments. “Here,” he hands you the largest bag and one of the smaller ones. “Take them in the bathroom, but don’t come out until I tell you.”

He’s far too excited, but you don’t protest his instructions, intrigued by what the big surprise is. 

In the bathroom, you pull the garment out of the bag - a long, bronze, cowl-neck chiffon dress. It’s beautiful and undoubtedly expensive because he’s already removed the tags. There are strappy heels to match in the other bag.

You slip the dress on over your head, careful not to touch your hair, and it instantly makes you feel sexy. The fabric is soft, and the color looks good on you.

“Ready when you are,” Jake calls.

After putting the shoes on, you take a few extra moments to check your reflection, twisting left and right. It’s not the kind of dress you can wear underwear with, and you shuffle your panties off. Now, the gesture of the dress makes a little more sense. You assume there’s something in it for Jake, too.

Jake gasps as soon as you step out. “Wow.” his mouth remains in the O shape while you twirl for him. “Damn, you look… wow.” 

You look him up and down - black suit pants, formal shoes, his shirt and jacket are the same bronze color as your dress. He looks edible, but before the drool can escape your mouth, he’s in your space.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close to him. He nips your ear. “Maybe we forget the rest of the plan, and I’ll just fuck you in this dress instead.”

“I mean, that is the deal,” you laugh, scrapping your nails down the nape of his neck, “but I’m intrigued about the rest of the plan.”

“Come on,” he grins, taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

The room is filled with joy. Everyone is smiling and happy, people chatting and dancing, eating the canapes being served by the wait staff. Jake feels giddy. He has no other word for it and brushes it off as the atmosphere in the room, but he knows better. It’s you, or rather the two of you.

It feels right. Like the last puzzle piece falling into place after months of trying to figure out the complex picture.  

Jake senses you’re nervous, eyes darting around the room, sipping your drink too often. “Relax,” he says, placing a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“How can I?” you ask, “we’re gate crashing a wedding.” 

“Act like you belong,” he advises, “We look like we belong. Stop worrying.” He catches a server as they pass, grabs two fresh glasses of champagne from the tray, and hands you one. “To the bride and groom.” 

“Whoever they are,” you toast.

Jake keeps his hand on the small of your back as you each watch the celebration for a while. It’s not only to assure you he’s there but also to make sure anyone looking, and he’s seen a few men looking, knows that you're with him.

“So, Jake,” you start, wistful and light as you turn your back to the room and focus on him. “Is this your end goal? Marriage? Kids? The whole nine yards?”

“Definitely,” he nods, “someday.”

You can’t hide your expression, even though you try by taking a delicate sip of your drink. 

He cocks his brow. “Why does that shock you?”

“It doesn’t, not really. You're a family guy. I’ve seen that on family days and heard you call your sister, but” you grimace around in an apologetic tone, “you don’t exactly pick the settling-down types.”

“Ha,” he laughs. “Okay, that’s fair.” He sobers a little, mind reeling at the list of exes he knows you're aware of to have made that conclusion.

“You tend to go for the jealous, insecure, toxic type,” you explain. “And that’s not to say you’re not as toxic sometimes, but there’s a pattern.”

He scoffs in offense. “Wait a second, when have I been the toxic one?”

“Laura.” You say without hesitation. “You let her believe you and me were screwing because you wanted to break up with her.”

“No, no, no,” Jake corrects, “you got that all wrong. I did break up with her and she assumed it was because of you. That’s not my fault.”

“Did you explicitly tell her we weren’t sleeping together?”

He shrugs, laughing around the rim of his glass. “No, ‘cause I was too busy trying to sleep with you.”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. “And Nicole?”

“Okay, yeah, she was just a crazy person.”

“I know!” you remember. “She threw a bottle at me in the Hard Deck. If it weren't for Nat’s cat-like reflexes, I’d have a scar right now.”

“That was some kung-fu master shit she pulled. I think that’s what made Coyote fall for her.”

“Don’t change the subject, Lieutenant,” you say. “What about Kate? I had to pretend to be your pregnant wife to get her to leave you alone.”

“Point made, toxic, jealous, and insecure.” he agrees. “I guess I’m not ready to settle down yet, so I keep making bad decisions.”

“Well, what’s one more?” you wink. 

His heart skips, and he feels a little sick. You’re not a bad decision. In fact, you're probably the only good decision, women-wise, he’s made since he was a teenager. 

You're the take-back-home type of girl. The kind of woman he’d proudly introduce to his family. Though the predecessors who had the privilege didn’t work out, he feels if it were to end the same with you, you’d forever be the ex that his family continued to invite to family functions, and his mom would sigh and tell him he’d lost a good one every time she saw you.

“You are not jealous, insecure, or toxic, Cosmo,” Jake says. 

“Exactly,” you laugh. “So clearly not your type.”

He doesn’t correct you, even though you are absolutely wrong. “What about you?” Jake asks. “You want the whole nine yards?”

“I guess, with the right guy.” You finish your drink and put the empty glass on the table. “Okay, if we’re doing this,” you say, “let's do it right. Mr Seresin, may I have this dance?” 

He accepts your offered hand and leads you to the dance floor. A few people give you odd looks, trying to place who you are, but it’s easily ignored.

Jake’s raging boner after one and a half slow songs and perhaps too much winding and grinding for a public place is not so easily ignored. “Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, and he gladly takes you back to the room.

The sex after the wedding was mind-blowing. Jake doesn’t know how, but every time, it gets better. He feels the butterflies in his stomach every time you touch him, casual touches, a brush of his hand, a lazy sleep-hazed kiss. 

It’s Sunday afternoon, the last night, and Jake knows without a doubt that he’s not ready to let this go. It’s not just about the sex, which is fucking - excuse the pun - amazing, but it’s the intimacy of it all too.

You're different. In the confines of the hotel room, you're freer, shameless, and adventurous, revealing secrets that only make him want you more. The pillow talk is deep and meaningful and, at other times, fun and light. Both make him want to talk to you as much as fuck you. 

He lies on the bed, watching you pack your suitcase. The items you won’t need in the morning. “Urgh,” you groan, “I hate packing.” 

“Me too.”

“I wish I was that last-minute kinda person,” you say, folding a clean t-shirt and placing it neatly in the suitcase. You haven’t had much use for the clothes you packed. 

Jake cocks his brow at you in the mirror, “You are wasting precious fuckin’ time.”

“I know,” you say with an apologetic grimace. “The weekend pass expires at midnight. But I can’t not do this.”

He laughs lightly, shuffling off the bed, and saunters over, slipping his arms around your waist while you organize your things. “Worth the price of admission?”

“Absolutely.” You smirk at his reflection in the mirror. “Ten out of ten. Would highly recommend.”

“Repeat customer?” he asks, sucking in a breath and holding it while he waits for your answer. He can laugh it off as a joke if the reply is negative, but he hopes it’s positive.

“I’ll leave the money on the dresser,” you squirm out of his embrace, turning to kiss his lips quickly. “Gigolo Jake.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he admits, delivering a harder kiss to your cheek. “I’m gonna take a shower.”  

The shower is running, but he’s not under the spray. Instead, he’s naked, sitting on the cold closed toilet lid, texting Coyote.

He’s breaking the rules. He knows he is, but he needs to talk it through with someone because what he’s feeling is new and confusing.

<Hangman: I need you to promise me this stays between us. Not even Phoenix can know. 

>Coyote: What’d you do now bro?

<Hangman: Promise me. 

>Coyote: Promise.

<Hangman: I slept with her. 

>Coyote: So?

<Hangman: Repeatedly.

>Coyote: I’m confused. Was it bad or something?

<Hangman: No. It was…

He struggles to find the word, and his cock twitches while his memory replays the last twenty-four hours.

<Hangman: Phenomenal. I wanna do it again and again and again.

>Coyote: 🤣🤣🤣. Sorry to tell you but that’s what happens when you like someone Jake. You go back for more.

<Hangman: Not me. 

>Coyote: Except now you feelin’ some type of way and you’re freaking out.

<Hangman: YES! What the hell man?! It was supposed to be a one-and-done!

>Coyote: Man, I'm the wrong person to ask. I never meant for Nat and me to be a thing but now I can’t imagine not being with her.

<Hangman: Not helping. 

>Coyote: Sorry bro. It is what it is now. Embrace it. 

<Hangman: Embrace it how?

>Coyote: You could start by telling her you actually like her. Do some of that Seresin Speciality romance stuff. 

<Hangman: She has a tattoo low on her hip, a fighter jet in the night sky. I swear there’s a H in the stars. I can’t stop looking at it. It’s like it’s meant to be.  

>Coyote: Wow, you sound like you’re way below the hard deck.

He’s not wrong. Jake’s flying below a level that isn’t safe, and he can either pull the ejection handle or do some pilot shit and finish the mission. 

>Coyote: Phoenix says she’s all for grand gestures and actions speaking louder than words.

<Hangman: 🙄way to keep a promise.

>Coyote: She can read too dude. Sorry.

<Hangman: I forgot you have your text size big enough to read from the moon. 

>Phoenix: 🤣 He does! Now quit stalling. Go tell Cosmo you like her. 

<Hangman: I might have an idea or two for a grand gesture. Thanks for the tip. 

>Coyote: Hey I’m not straining my eyes and having to wear glasses and not being able to fly. 

It probably would have been easier to start a group chat.

Jake decides not to reply. He’s wasting water. Setting his phone on the countertop, he steps into the shower.

He’s not ready to say goodbye to the weekend and go back to reality, and grand gestures should happen somewhere nice and memorable. He needs to set things in motion. 

“Cosmo,” he calls out. 

“Yeah,” you yell back. 

He doesn’t want to scream it at you, so he asks, “Come here, will ya?” while he lathers his hair with shampoo.

He sticks his head out of the shower as you enter the bathroom. You chuckle, smiling as you swipe soap suds off his brow before they trickle into his eye. It’s a sweet and delicate touch, but it sends his heart racing.

He clears his throat. “You’re not scheduled to work till Friday, right?” he asks, though it’s unnecessary because he’s always aware of your schedule.

“Yeah,” you sigh. The reminder brings a touch of reality to the room. 

He feels a wave of nerves but ignores them, hearing Coyote’s voice in his head, ‘Embrace it.’ “How about we stay a couple more nights? I’ll upgrade you to the Premium Seresin Package.”

You chuckle and look a little sheepish when you reply. “Um….yeah, okay. But the same rules apply.”

“Yeah, obviously. I wouldn’t want…”

His phone chiming interrupts, and simultaneously, you both look at the message preview. 

>Coyote: Go chase that flying jet and make her see stars…

“Really?!” you scoff. “Couldn’t even make it back to base before you go shooting your mouth off! What happened to ‘no one has to know’?”

“Cosmo, wait,” he calls as you leave, slamming the door. As quickly as he can, he rinses the shampoo from his hair. “Shit!” There is no towel hanging up, and he has no choice but to exit naked and dripping wet.

You shove your feet into your sneakers, carry-on slung over your shoulder, suitcase zipped and ready to go. “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit!”

“It wasn’t bullshit,” Jake says, grabbing your wrist to try and get you to slow down. 

“Don’t touch me.” You snatch your arm away. “I can’t believe I trusted you, Hangman. I should’ve known you’d hang me out to dry, too!” You sneer, and the disgust in your expression breaks him a little.

He ignores the jab of hurt that stabs through him, trying again. “Cosmo, I swear it’s not what you think.”

You grab your suitcase handle and march toward the door, but Jake is closer, and he steps in your path. 

He pleads, “Please let me explain.”

“Move.” 

He doesn’t, and instead of asking again, you shove into his shoulder and drag your suitcase behind you. The wheels hit his toes. “Fuck!” he yells, hopping around on one leg, clutching his injured foot before falling onto the bed. “Don’t leave, please, Cosmo.”

But it’s too late. You're out the door and gone.

Part 3 - Didn't Know Then What I Know Now

Tags + Info

@alexxavicry / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess 

/ @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / 

@writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @dempy / @atarmychick007 / @genius2025

 @kmc1989 / @alipap3 / @emorychase

[wandering-winchesters]

Every Embrace

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,218

Summary: How sharing a bed with Dean Winchester started and where it is now.

Trigger Warnings: SPN level Violence, mostly fluff.

Requested: Yes, by Anonymous. “could you plzzzzzz make a fic where dean and Y/N share rooms or beds when on hunts and they aren’t dating but find comfort in cuddling and being near each other, especially dean. can he be the initiator and the sap for physical touch?”

A/N: Requests are open! Sorry for the lack of posts recently, life has been absolutely crazy! Hope to get back to posting regularly soon! <3 as always, please let me know what you think.

Masterlist

The first time we shared a bed was out of necessity. Dean had been driving for 10 hours straight, all of us were exhausted, sore and just tapped out for the day. The Wisconsin motel had come up suddenly, the last one for another hour. Dean had parked the impala and I had volunteered to be the one to go in and get us a room. Upon checking in, they informed me that they only had one room left, with two beds. I accepted and paid for the room, returning to the car. Intending to let Sam and Dean have the beds and I’d stay in the impala. The second I had suggested this to them it was shot down quickly. 

Dean had immediately objected, stating that he’d stay in the impala and I could have his bed. Internally, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I helped them bring the bags in, letting them get settled. Sam quickly fell asleep on his bed, his clothes a rumpled mess. Exhaustion evident by the deep sleep he had been swallowed up by. Dean had hopped in the shower, mumbling something about needing to wash off the rock salt from hunting ghosts earlier in the day. I changed into comfier clothes, grabbing a pillow off of Deans bed and the blanket that I keep in my duffle at all times and quietly closed the motel door behind me. 

I opened the back door to the impala and tossed my pillow in, spreading the blanket down over the seat before I had climbed in and shut the door behind me. I laid down, wrapped myself tight with the blanket I had brought and settled in as best I could in the cramped back seat. I had almost fallen asleep, when the door by my feet was yanked open. I yelled, fully prepared to kill whatever had decided to disturb my rest. I quickly backed off once I realized it was Dean. 

He asked what I was doing and why I was in the impala when I was supposed to take the bed. I explained that I knew he was sore and I wanted him to have the bed. He refused. After a couple minutes of arguing, he grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me towards the open door. Mumbling that we could share the bed, he wasn’t about to allow me to sleep in the car. I tried to put up a fight, but he silenced me with a look. An exhausted, pleading look. I caved, and followed him inside. He had silently crawled into the bed, his back to the middle. I had carefully settled in next to him, mirroring his position, our backs had been to one another. That was until a nightmare had woken me up, a gasp had left my lungs and I had sat straight up. Dean had immediately noticed and his hand grabbed onto my own. He pulled me down against him, silently embraced me and lulled me back to sleep. 

-

The second time was out of fear, Dean terrified to let me out of his reach for more than a second. We had unknowingly stumbled upon a hoard of demons, only making it out thanks to Sam and Deans quick thinking. I had frozen in place, fear overwhelmed my senses which allowed one of the demons to throw me head first down a set of stairs. I had blacked out, a concussion another injury to add to my long list of hunting ailments. I had awoken to Dean shaking my shoulders, his face swimming before my eyes like the image seen inside of a kaleidoscope. His words had been silent and they had fallen on deaf ears, a temporary loss of hearing plagued my senses, only to return a short time later. He had pulled me into his arms, cradled me close against him and rushed me out to the impala. His grasp on me firm, but gentle. Once we returned safely to the motel, he ignored my every protest and cleaned me up to his satisfaction. 

The cut on my forehead and my splitting headache the only proof of the internal injury that was my concussion. He shushed me as he applied the bandage to my forehead, his eyes scanned my own for any hint of pain that he had not addressed. Once he was satisfied, he helped me down off the counter. A heavy silence had fallen between us, I was exhausted and simply didn’t have the energy for the argument that I was sure was going to follow. It didn’t however, he simply hugged me. His arms tight around my waist, his chin rested against the crown of my head. His breathing was escalated, sharp and had the edge of panic. I hugged him back, allowing his touch to calm me. I only let go when he pulled away, I had believed that was the last of it for the night. 

I bid him goodnight and began to head for the motel door. He stopped me with his words, insisting that it wasn’t a good idea for me to go sleep in a room by myself, the concussion reason enough for me to stay in there with him and Sam. I had hesitated, not wanting an argument, but also afraid of getting to used to the comfort that sharing a bed with him provided. We still hadn’t spoken about the first time it had happened, the way that we had woken up in the others arms. Once we had both woken up, we were quick to roll apart, making excuses for our unconscious behavior. 

The pleading look on Dean’s face was enough to convince me to stay that night. So for the second time, we climbed into the same bed. I faced the outside of the bed, my back to Dean’s. Yet this time, it didn’t last more than thirty seconds. He had immediately pulled me back against him, his arm wrapped snuggly around my waist. His chest pressed to my back, his chin cradled my the curve of my shoulder up to my neck. I couldn’t tell which one of us needed it more in that moment, his touch eased my pain. Little did I know, I eased his pain too. His was mental, mine was physical. We had both fallen asleep embracing the other, lulled into peaceful dreams by the other person. 

-

I can’t tell you when the third time turned to the fourth, the fourth to the fifth ,or the fifth to the sixth. It was a natural progression, as easy as breathing. A fresh breath of air on a foggy morning, easy and clear. Refreshing. The situations varied, but one thing never changed. Dean was always the one to initiate the physical contact. 

We no longer looked for multiple rooms at motels, the bed in the bunker that I had claimed began to go unused. Our need for the other person became so great that we could no longer ignore it. It was platonic, comforting and necessary for survival. The unknown ache that had settled over my should was slowly being eased. The need for another person, physical touch and emotional comfort had finally been fulfilled in a way that I never saw coming. If you had told me years ago when I stumbled upon the Winchester brothers that I would seek comfort in the eldest, I would have laughed in your face and called you crazy. However, now that I am here, shrouded in the safety that was Dean, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The darkness of the room normally would have been anxiety causing, the nightlight that remained plugged in to the outlet of my room in the bunker is no longer necessary. 

I no longer fear that monsters that might be lurking on the edge of the darkness, I no longer fear the darkness within my own head. All of these have been driven far away from my every thought, all of that due to the man who’s arms I am wrapped in at this very moment. It had changed from the inability to sleep when we shared a bed, due to anxiety over waking him up or the fear of letting him in, to the inability to sleep without him next to me. I craved his touch and that scared me more than I thought physically possible.

“Whatcha reading, Y/N?” Dean asks, his bare feet silent as he enters the room. I glance up from the book I was scanning, my eyes darting over the low hanging sweatpants adorning his hips, his bare chest and shoulders only covered by the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel before locking with his own. I hum, considering my next words carefully. While I had been sitting with this book for the last hour, I had not been reading. I had been thinking, over analyzing every time we had shared a bed or grown closer over the last few months. The emotional connection that I had with the green eyed Winchester standing in front of me, something I never could have predicted.  “I, Uh-couldn’t really tell you,” I laugh, snapping the book shut and setting it on the table next to me. “Was thinking more than reading I guess.” I shrug my shoulders and try to brush off the look that he is giving me. One eyebrow raised, his lip caught between his teeth in the way that I know means he is debating on whether to tease me or let it go. He chooses the latter, remaining silent, but sitting down next to me on the couch. He nods and hands me a beer, that he had already taken the cap off of. Another thing that he had started doing for me, without my asking. It was little things like this that had caused me to question exactly what was going on between us, the silent things that he had started doing for me. 

“What had you so lost in thought?” He asks, his hand pulling my legs across his lap. He rubs his fingers gently into the muscle of my calf, working out a knot that I didn’t know was there until his firm touch brushed against it. I shrug again, taking a sip of my beer in order to delay my response a bit longer. He had been so touchy recently, not that I minded. It was there, a need for physical affection, I had buried it long ago. Yet the second his body brushed my own, it was roaring like a lion. Needy and vocal, rearing to be released from the internal cage I had locked it in so long ago. 

“You.” I mutter, the word leaving my mouth before I can even think to stop it. A flush washes over my face, my cheeks turning red. I can feel deans eyes on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I am paying close attention to a slight imperfection in the glass of the beer bottle. 

“What about me?” He asks, his hand squeezing my thigh gently. I hesitate, wondering if I really want to vocalize my next thought. 

“About how you’ve been so affectionate recently, I don’t mind it at all. I love it. But it confuses me, we haven’t talked about it. And I just, it leaves me to wonder, you know?” I say, the last words leaving my mouth an almost silent whisper. 

“Wonder what, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone flirtatious and cocky. It’s only then that I look up and I’m greeted by a grin plastered across his lips. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying my hesitation and embarrassment. I smack his arm playfully, my eyebrows tugging together in a look that tells him to knock it off. 

“Okay, okay.” He says, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Wonder, what Y/N?” He asks again, his tone returning to seriousness. 

“What does this mean De?” I sigh, resting my head against my hand and staring back at him. He turns to face me, his hands resting on each of my thighs. I can see that he’s choosing his next words carefully which causes anxiety to bubble up within me. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, everyone needs physical touch. It’s part of being human.” He says and my heart falls. The hope that had been building within me for something more with him quickly crumbles. 

“Or, if you wanted it to mean more than just friendly affection, that would be okay too.” My eyes snap back to his once more, confusion flashing over my features. He smiles softly at me, his eyes searching my own for an answer. My voice is lost to me, so I nod. The only response necessary to communicate how I felt at that moment. 

Even though we hadn’t labeled the things we both felt for the other, it was no longer a concern at that moment. Every embrace was enough to keep the other going. For now, being wrapped up in his arms and listening to his soft snores every night would be all that I need. Maybe one day that could change and we could delve deeper into the feelings that we shared. But for now, sharing a bed would be enough. 

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

[milkteabinniechan]

Pink Carnations - A Bridgerton Story

ko-fi // m.list

pairing: Bridgerton Au! Chan x female reader

a/n: This was a labor of love honestly and I wanted to break out of my normal writing comfort zone so thank you all for giving me the platform to do that <3 I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Please leave feedback!! It helps me out sm

Chapter One

Pink carnations lined the pathway to your house. That's how you knew spring was arriving. Long lines of pink. You'd push open your bedroom windows and breathe in the freshly cut grass, you'd let the warm breeze press past your hair, tickling your neck and shoulders.

It was your wedding day.

"Everyone is waiting downstairs, ma'am." A chambermaid squeaked from the doorway.

She was a new hire. A small, meek little thing that didn't talk much and avoided all eye contact. You had attempted many times to spark up a conversation with her, but all your efforts had fall flat thus far. You turned towards the door and gave her a firm nod. You took a deep breath in and made your way towards the stairs. Your dress swirled and swept across your legs as you moved.

You absolutely adored your dress. Long, flowing chiffon cascaded down your hips, falling to your feet at perfect length. A beaded corset swam up your waist and chest, while delicate lace fabric draped your shoulders, trickling down like a spring rain.

You counted your footsteps as you ascended down the staircase; one, two, three, four. Before you knew it, you were in the main hall of your family home. The kitchen staff had decorated every corner of the enormous mansion you called home. As you glanced around the room, there was only one person you were really looking for.

Chan was a potential suitor but he never pursued you. Gentlemen brought flowers to your door nearly every day. Bouquets of roses and purple tulips filled your room like something out of a fairytale. But he never sent so much as a flower petal.

"No carnations? Do these men not know you at all?" Your sister had notes the lack of your favorite flora.

Now it was your wedding day, a perfectly respectable man by the name of Felix Lee had asked for your hand in marriage. He came from a wealthy family

And had always treated you with the utmost respect. He was very well-liked in the town. Quite the charmer to the gaggle of ladies that had found themselves swarming him every chance they could. He had a beautiful smile and effortlesslessy gorgeous hair. You found yourself shrinking around him whenever he would speak, fearing that the light he exuded would burn you away.

But however magical Felix seemed, you still found yourself searching for Chan around every corridor. The whole town had been invited to this momentous occasion as Lady Whistledown had so affectionately called it.

She had gushed ansd gooned over the entire guest list, right down to the third cousin of the second aunt of the twice removed great uncle of… whatever. This was a spectacle. This was not for you. You were the eldest of your family. As your mother had never bore a son, the responsibility came down to you to marry someone in good standing to provide for your family. Although you would not live in this place anymore, your siblings and your parents would be well taken care of.

“The newest Whistledown has just arrived!” a valet ran into the dining hall with a small white paper in hand. 

“She’s writing on the day of your wedding? That has to be a good sign.” Your sister nudged your shoulder with hers.

The two of you shared a smile that quickly faded when you saw the shocked faces slowly peppering across the room. Judgemental eyes shot through you like rusty nails, leaving an infectious monster spreading through your entire body. Your mother crossed the marble floor to hand you the latest gossip. Your hands began to shake as you lifted the small sheet to your face.

Dearest, Gentle Reader, 

They say what is good for the goose is good for the gander, but what if the goose has taken a GANDER at another? This writer has heard a rumor most scandalous, about a certain Lady that has spent a significant amount of her time and attention on someone who is NOT her groom to be. A man in good standing is only considered as such if the company he keeps holds themselves to the same standards. Perhaps this bride may be having second thoughts?

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson

[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.

[uluvjay]

list 3, prompt 1 with jack pls! maybe at the lake house or something

[ SIT ]  for one muse to finger the other who sits in their lap fully clothed,  keeping an arm around their waist to make them stay still. 

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, semi public, pet names, dirty talk, cursing, kissing, out door

“Jack!” She scolded as she felt him slip a hand into the waistband of her shorts

The couple was relaxing on the hammock that rested between two large trees on the lake house property. It had been a day full of lingering looks and touches so she wasn’t surprised that her boyfriend wasn’t keeping his hands to himself.

“Relax baby nobody can see up” he whispered in her ear placing kisses behind it

“Fine bu-“ she began but a moan cut her off as he began moving his fingers on her clit.

“Gotta be quiet” he giggled in her ear

“Shu-ohh - shut up” she quietly moaned

He just laughed before he slipped a finger inside her warm and welcoming core, moving at a slow pace.

He kept up his pace for a moment before she started thrusting her hips up into his hand trying to create friction.

“For someone that was scared of getting caught you sure are moving a lot” Jack teased and placed his free arm around her waist.

“Then go faster!” She wined still trying to move her hips despite his strong hold.

“Whatever you say princess” he smirked adding another finger and going at a fast pace.

“Shit” she squeaked at his unforgiving pace

He held a smirk on his face as he listened to her small whimpers escape her mouth and watched her body fall apart under the use of two simple fingers.

“That feel good baby?” He asked as she let a loud moan to escape

“Mhm, hi-hit my g spot” she told him not even caring if she just inflated his ego even more then it already was.

He couldn’t hold back the cocky smirk that spread upon his face as he slowed down his fingers earning a cry of annoyance from his girlfriend.

She was getting to the edge right before he slowed his movements, she could feel the the fire igniting in her lower belly and pussy clenching at the feeling of Jacks hard cock pressed against her back.

“Baby I was getting so close” she whined

“Aww I’m sorry honey” he replied in a mocking tone

But his slow pace didn’t last long as she felt his fingers speeding up shortly after her complaint.

And it wasn’t long before she felt that fire bursting in her lower belly, thighs trembling and eyes clenched shut as her orgasm was hitting.

“J! I’m cumming!” She cried louder then she would have liked

“Come for me pretty girl, let me feel you” He encouraged fingers still moving inside her to help her through her orgasm.

When she finally came down from her high Jack pulled his fingers out from between her thighs and popped them into his mouth, groaning at the sweet taste of her cunt.

“Thank you” she giggled out breathlessly

“Don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything to taste that sweet cunt” he teased in her ear

“Jack” she whined as she felt her core throb at his words

He just laughed before turning her head up to his and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips.

They continued to sit there till she could feel her legs again and once she could she didn’t hesitate to get up and pull her boyfriend with her.

“Where are we going?” He questioned

“To your room”

“Why?”

“So I can take care of you” she smirked pulling him along

-

[blushstarot]

PICK A CARD: what message do you need to hear right now?

Could be from your higher self, the universe, if you do deity work maybe some deity, spirit guides, anything. There's no specific from who the message is, so follow your intuition to figure it out!

Pick whichever picture you feel more attracted to and skip to that pile.

mini rant, poll, and links at the end as always. All images are from the game persona 3 reload.

Pile 1

knight of swords, two of wands, the high priestess.

With the two of wands, it seems that you have two paths you can follow and choosing either one of them it’s going to be a big change in your life, this is something that you already know or something you don’t know yet. Whichever is the case when the time comes to make the decision you need to be assertive, direct and honest with what you want, even if it means going against the flow. I feel you probably are a little indecisive about what to choose, and that’s why you ended up in this reading, but you know that deep down you already know what to choose. The high priestess is all about intuition, gut feelings, signs and symbols that whichever or whatever you are asking for guidance is leaving for you, as well as intellect and common sense, you probably have been seeing a lot of signs, or having dreams that can be trace back to this, you have to trust your intuition and pay attention to the signs that are being presented to you.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 2

page of swords, six of pentacles (reversed), three of pentacles.

For some reason, I’m getting the feeling that you are in a school setting (working or studying) and that you are being protective and guarded with someone, sometimes getting into unnecessary arguments or conflicts. You may come out too blunt when you try to communicate with them and that is what’s causing the arguments, and for some of you I see a more passive approach, where you act friendly with that person, but then talk bad about them to other people, maybe even spreading gossip. The six of pentacles indicates that there’s a lack of generosity and sincerity in the situation, you need to revaluate this relationship and see if you’re not being too extreme with the way you are acting, or in the other hand, the passive approach to the situation is maybe a little too passive and you need to stand more your ground.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 3

five of wands, six of cups, nine of pentacles (reversed).

In this pile with the five of wands and the nine of pentacles reversed I’m seeing a lot of negative feelings. You may feel that you aren’t in control of a lot of situations happening right now, and it can vary from just arguments and disagreements about trivial things, to feeling a lack of freedom, security and even some internal issues like problems with confidence and self-control. I feel your message is about taking support from family and friends that you trust and are comfortable with, and start working in more areas of your life, maybe right now you are feeling overwhelmed because you are just focusing in one aspect of your life, which isn’t wrong, but there’s more beside that, is not the only thing that defines you.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

I was going to wait a few more days to upload a reading, mostly bc I wasn't sure what type of reading to do, but for some reason I felt that I needed to do this reading, so I hope it helps whoever needed to read this!

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think and if you want more readings like this.

You can find more of my PACs on my master list, and if you have any suggestions on future PACs you want to see me do, you can send me an ask. Curious about me? want to know how my blog works? want to look at more tags I use? you can see all that on my pinned post.

Bye byeee ✨

[tonberry-yoda]

Take a Break - Asra

notes - IM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND WITH A FIC?!?!?! Hi guys! <3 I've been in a bit of a block feeling like my writing is meh, but I wanted to pump this out to get out of said block. I'm finally on a short break for school, but I'll be working then, but now, I had time to write and wanted to give you all something, even if it's short and sweet. I also wanted to thank you all for the support even as I've been on my hiatus. I nearly have 200 followers, and I just can't thank everyone enough for being so loving! Sorry this note was kinda long, but I really want you all to know how much I love you <3 word count - 941

“Hi Asra.” You smile, giving the boy goo-goo eyes as he walks into the shop that the two of you owned.

“Hello, y/n.” he says, not once looking at you. He was too busy looking down at a list of some sort to notice you staring at him while you stood behind the counter.

“Busy?” you asked.

“Mhm.” was all he let out before walking up to his office.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Another busy day that clouded both you and Asra. You were used to it by now, but a break sounded nice every once in a while. So instead of that break, you played with a bottle full of tea leaves that you were proud to say you made yourself. You didn't hate your job, if anything, you loved it more than any job you’ve had before. The problem was Asra. He looked constantly stressed and beyond tired. You hated that he was starting to look like he was the one who hated his job. He had so much passion years ago, but now he just looked swamped.

“Good evening, y/n!” you heard a familiar voice say as the bell rang above the door. Your ears perked up and a smile spread across your face as you saw one of your regular customers walk in.

“Evening, Mr. Bennet! How are you?” You set down the little bottle and walked over to the man, shaking his hand.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Busy as always. You?” He hung his coat on a rack next to the door and started browsing.

“I'm all right,” you admitted. “Bout to close up shop, so that’s nice.”

“I won't be too long.” He looked at some of the tea you had made, carefully reading the instructions. “Where’s Asra, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, he's upstairs. Probably working as always.” You rested your cheek on your hand.

“Go figure. Poor man needs to catch a break.”

“Tell me about it.” you chuckled.

“Well, when you see him again,” Mr. Bennet said, walking to the counter with a box of tea leaves. “Tell him that he has to get that break, for me, of course.”

You laughed and took the money from the man, locking the door behind him as he left.

“Was that Mr. Bennet?” you heard Asra ask, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly as you began to clean up for the night. “He just got some tea, that’s all.”

“Dammit,” Asra groaned, leaning against the wall. “I had to ask him something.”

“You know he’ll be back. He’s in here all the time. Plus, he told me to tell you to take a damn break.”

Asra ran his fingers through his white hair while his other hand clutched some tarot cards. “You know I can't do that.” he sighed.

“Whatever you say.” You finished sweeping up the rest of the shop and walked past Asra.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room. To take a break.” So, you did. You walked straight to your room and laid on your bed. It was soft, as always, and all of your stuffed animals gave you soft smiles.

Through your window, you could see the moon peeking over some mountains behind the town and a smile spread across your face. You quickly jumped out of bed to open your window to bring in some cool night air. It smelled fresh. You saw crows fly overhead and could see the lights from the rest of the village turning on as the night market began overflowing with people. You’ve been needing this relaxation for weeks, and finally, it was a weekend where you had time for it.

At your door, you heard Asra clear his throat. When you turned around, he had Faust wrapped around his bicep and the tarot cards were still in his hand.

“Need something?” you asked.

“Not really.” he said quietly.

“You look tired.” Your voice was softer than his.

Asra chuckled. “I am tired.”

“Then take a break. Please.”

Faust slid her way off of Asra’s arm and slid over to you. You picked her up and she wrapped herself around your wrist. “Break!” she said to Asra.

“There’s so much to do before the weekend is over though.” Asra sighed and leaned against the frame of your door.

“Like what?” you asked.

He thought for a minute. You assumed that he was going to try to make some excuse to keep himself busy. There were probably things he had to do over the weekend, but you also knew that Asra was the kind of guy who always felt the need to be productive.

You walked over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Asra, I'm serious, you need a break. Those eyebags don't look good on you.” You ran your thumb underneath his eye over the dark spots there.

He softened to your touch, leaning his cheek on your warm hand. “What if everything falls apart because of me?” he asked.

“I think you’re just making excuses.” you giggled.

He took your hand in his own and smiled softly at you. Faust, you noticed, had disappeared, but you didn't mind, especially when you just saw her curling up in a little cage you had made for her.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” you asked Asra as he took a seat on your bed.

“That would be wonderful, y/n, thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him so that he was laying down. “I'll be right back.” You winked.

~~~~~

the arcana masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 31: The Devil's Playground 

A/N: And we are back at it again with another chapter! Sanji Pov, will be for Chapter 32. This one was also my favorite chapter to write cause this one we get to where Doflamingo places everyone in the bird cage, we get a Luffy POV, and has listed out the 12 names. And as an added bonus… well let me not get to ahead of myself (heheh) thank you guys so much for reading and following along! Thank you for the likes, reblogs, comments, follows, interactions everything. Im grateful for each and everyone of you <3, but without further a do… lets get to it!

Word count: 

Law POV… 

A few minutes had passed since Doflamingo dragged you into this wretched room, and you were still struggling under the binds of his strings. My thoughts were interrupted as Doflamingo’s voice cut through the air, filled with irritation.

“I thought your only objective was to destroy the Smile Factory,” he said, his tone dripping with annoyance. “Strawhats are teaming up with the little people from Greenbit. Seems a bit capricious, don’t you think?”

“Little people?” I echoed, my confusion evident.

Doflamingo continued, his words sharp and probing. “While you’re at it, tell me how the Strawhat crew managed to get into the underground port. They’re doing a fine job at pissing me off.”

Y/N let out a low laugh, her voice defiant despite the pain. “Worried that your dark secrets will come to light?”

Doflamingo’s gaze darkened, and he moved towards you with a menacing stride. Before he could reach you, Baby 5 stepped forward and slapped you across the cheek. “The young master wasn’t speaking to you, harlot!” she said, her voice cold and full of disdain.

Your face remained defiant, even as you laughed again. “Baby 5, didn’t we have this conversation back at Doffy’s quarters? Unless you want to end up like that dent I just made, choose your words wisely!”

Baby 5’s resolve faltered, and she retreated to Buffalo, her face flushed with frustration. “Don’t do it if it’s going to make you cry,” Buffalo said, attempting to comfort her.

“I already told you I have nothing to do with them anymore. Our alliance ended; whatever they’re doing out there is none of my business,” I said, trying to maintain my composure despite the strain.

Doflamingo’s expression darkened as he turned his attention back to you. “Hmm, I’m not sure if you’re telling the truth or if you’re just as clueless as the rest of them,” he mused.

Without warning, he grabbed y/n, lifting her into the air. “Let me go!” y/n yelled, her voice filled with desperation. “Y/N!” I shouted, trying to reach out to you.

“Doflamingo, let her go!” I demanded, my voice raw with urgency.

“Why should I?” Doflamingo said, his smile widening cruelly. “The princess is no longer an ally of yours, which means she must have known about the plan.”

Y/N turned her head slightly, her eyes widening as tears welled, but her demeanor remained unbroken. “She saw something,” I thought, trying to piece together the situation.

Doflamingo’s smile turned sinister as he hurled you towards the wall. The impact made you jerk violently, and a cry of pain escaped you. “Y/N! Princess, please talk to me!” I called out, my voice cracking with concern.

Y/N gasped for breath, her body wracked with coughs from the force of the impact. Your labored breathing and the pained expression on your face were a crushing blow to my resolve. I felt helpless, my own restraints making it impossible to reach you.

Luffy POV… 

Zoro stayed behind to handle Pica while Violet and I managed to get away. “I’m coming for you, Mingo!” I shouted, determination fueling my every step. As we navigated through the palace, something caught my attention—dents in the walls, smashed pillars, and debris scattered around.

“What happened here?” Violet asked, her voice laced with concern.

I chuckled, a wide grin spreading across my face. “Y/N made a path for us to follow.” I could feel my energy surging just thinking about it, and I started running faster. The trail led us to a window that overlooked the room where Traffy and Y/N were. “Traffy and Y/N are in there! Now’s the time!” I got ready to burst in and kick Doflamingo’s ass.

“Wait,” Violet grabbed my arm. “You have to wait just a little longer. The Tontatta tribe hasn’t completed Operation SOP yet!”

“The what?!” I shot her a confused look.

“Never mind the details,” Violet sighed, “the point is, we need a few more minutes.”

I ducked behind cover with Violet to avoid being seen, frustration building up inside me. Every second felt like an eternity. Just then, I saw it—Mingo had Y/N in his grasp. She was struggling, fighting with everything she had. My fists clenched, and I could feel my rage boiling over.

“That’s it!” I growled, getting ready to charge at Doflamingo.

“No, you have to wait a little longer!” Violet hissed, holding me back.

“My crewmate is in danger!” I shouted, my voice barely containing my fury.

As if she heard me, Y/N locked eyes with mine. For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened, and I saw tears welling up, but even through the pain, the defiance in her gaze remained strong. Then, with a cruel twist of his hand, Doflamingo hurled her against the wall.

“Damn it!” I muttered through clenched teeth, watching her struggle to rise, her body showing signs of exhaustion. “Hold on, Y/N, just a few more minutes.” My fists shook with impatience, ready to explode the moment I got the signal.

I couldn't take my eyes off her—she was holding on, and I had to make sure that when the time came, I’d be ready to fight

Y/N POV… 

I saw him... I saw Luffy! He's finally here. I just need to buy a few more minutes. Just enough.

Doflamingo's cold hands gripped me again, hoisting me up before placing me roughly back into the chair. My breathing was labored, but I caught a glimpse of one of my blades peeking out from the binds. Slowly, carefully, I began moving my left hand toward it, desperately trying to grasp the handle.

As I struggled, my fingers finally wrapped around the blade. Yes! I thought triumphantly, working quietly to cut through the string binds. The faint sound of ripping meant progress. Just a few more...

Suddenly, I heard Doflamingo’s voice, his tone as cold as ever. “Trebol, bring Sugar to the palace, and quick.”

Trebol's slimy voice crackled through the call. “Take it easy, Doffy, they tried to pull one on me, but I’ve got it under control.”

What the hell does that mean? I thought, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I’m fine, young master,” Sugar’s voice added, her tone eerie. “The enemy is barely conscious anymore.”

I let out a low laugh, feeling the last of the binds around my legs finally snap. My mobility returned. "She’s wrong, you know," I muttered under my breath, still clutching the blade in my left hand. Channeling every ounce of energy I had left, I focused it into the blade, a faint glow illuminating its edge.

Doflamingo’s footsteps echoed as he turned his attention back to me, his predatory smile widening. "I see you're still defiant, my little princess," he purred, approaching with slow, deliberate steps. "Maybe you need a reminder of who's in control here."

"Y/N! What are you doing?!" Law shouted, his voice strained with desperation.

Doflamingo was getting closer. My grip on the blade tightened as I felt the pressure of his looming presence.

Suddenly, his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing tighter than before. I gasped, struggling to breathe as his fingers dug into my skin.

Trebol’s voice crackled through the room again, this time sounding panicked. “I gooped, I gooped real bad!” he cried. “She got scared, she got scared and passed out!”

Doflamingo's head snapped towards the transponder snail, his teeth grinding audibly. His hand loosened around my throat, and I gasped for air, my lungs greedily filling with oxygen again. He released me entirely, his fury redirected.

“Is this some kind of joke?!” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Trebol’s sobs continued, echoing through the snail. “The toys we collected for over a decade... they’re turning human again!”

Buffalo, wide-eyed, pointed to the screen in the room. “Hey, look! In the colosseum!”

Doflamingo's gaze whipped towards the screen, his eyes narrowing as the scene unfolded in front of him. One by one, all of the toys were reverting to their human forms, along with the memories that had been stolen for years.

His jaw clenched, his attention entirely absorbed by the chaos unfolding on the screen. His empire, his carefully guarded secret, was falling apart. The memories of everyone he had manipulated were flooding back, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

This is my chance, I thought, feeling my strength returning. With Doflamingo distracted, I ripped the remaining string binds from my body, finally freeing myself. I stood up, rolling my shoulders, feeling the satisfying weight of mobility return.

“Sir, all these emergency reports keep flooding in!” a guard stammered, carrying an armful of ringing transponder snails. Panic was spreading fast.

The chaos in the room was palpable, and it was almost hilarious to witness. Doflamingo, usually so composed, was unraveling before my eyes. I smirked, savoring the moment.

“Didn’t think your secret would be out, did you, Doffy?” I taunted, my voice cutting through the noise.

I stood tall now, no longer bound, my eyes burning with defiance.

Doflamingo turned to me, his eyes widening in shock as he saw that I was no longer bound by his strings. My swords were back with me—one hidden in plain sight and the other, glowing with a faint yellow light, clutched tightly in my left hand as I channeled my energy through it.

“You’re going to pay for this!” Doflamingo snarled, lunging at me with fury in his eyes.

I didn't hesitate. With my left hand still clenched, I lifted my leg, speeding past him in a blur of motion. As soon as I was beside him, I swung my right fist, channeling all my strength into a direct punch to his chest. The impact sent him flying into the wall with a deafening crash.

My body trembled slightly, my breathing heavy as I stood back, lowering my right hand and unclenching it. I smirked, my voice calm yet triumphant. “Looks like I won , Doflamingo.”

I made my way over to Law, still cuffed by the sea prism stone handcuffs. His eyes were wide, a mix of relief and frustration on his face.

“Princess, you’re so reckless, you know that!” Law yelled, his voice strained. But when I looked into his eyes, I could see it—relief. He wasn’t angry, he was just glad I was okay.

I grinned teasingly, leaning in a little closer. “Oh? Is that relief I see, Law? I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Tch,” he scoffed, but the faint pink that tinted his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t get cocky.”

Before we could continue, Doflamingo slowly managed to stand, dusting himself off despite the impact. His gaze locked on me once more, and he laughed darkly, stepping forward with a murderous glint in his eyes.

“You think this is over?” Doflamingo hissed. “I’ll crush you!”

I clutched my blade tightly, my muscles tensing as I prepared for the next attack. But just as I was about to make my move, I noticed someone hovering above Doflamingo, ready to strike. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” I said coolly.

“What?!” Doflamingo snapped, his eyes flickering in confusion.

Suddenly, a voice rang out. “Kyros, my boy!” King Riku cried, his voice filled with joy and relief.

From above, Kyros leapt down, his blade flashing through the air. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, King Riku, but for the past ten years, I’ve prepared for this moment. Now, I’m here to save you!” Kyros, with precise and lethal force, swung his sword and severed Doflamingo’s head.

All of us stood frozen in shock as Doflamingo’s head rolled to the ground. Even Buffalo was stunned, his voice caught in his throat. “Doflamingo! You bastard, you’re going to—”

Before Buffalo could finish, Kyros silenced him with a swift slash of his sword. The chaos seemed to settle for just a brief moment, and then I heard the familiar voice of my captain echo through the room.

“Mingo just died?! Well, that sucks—I was going to be the one to kick his ass!” Luffy called out, his voice a mix of disappointment and eager excitement.

I turned to him, a relieved smile spreading across my face. “Glad to see you made it, Captain!” I said, slipping my blade back into its thigh halter as I hurried towards him.

Without hesitation, I threw my arms around him in a tight hug, both relieved that he had arrived just in time and grateful that he was okay. Luffy’s arms encircled me in return, and for a moment, the chaos of the battle seemed to fade away.

Just as Luffy was about to say something, we heard voices from afar: “There they are!” 

Luffy pulled back, his expression shifting to urgency. “Quick, we’ve got to save Traffy!” he said, determination evident in his voice.

I nodded, adrenaline kicking in once more. “Let’s move!”

Sabo POV…

The colosseum was in complete chaos. The transformation of toys back into humans and animals added to the pandemonium. I could see Rebecca and Bartolomeo struggling to make sense of the mess. “Now that the smoke is cleared, let’s uncover the truth, right Rebecca?” I said, as I began knocking on the floor of the colosseum. “There’s a core at the heart of all things,” I continued, my voice carrying over the chaos, “Once you find that, great or small can be undone.”

Bartolomeo looked at me, confusion etched on his face. “You lost me! You still sound cool as hell and I look up to you, but you lost me!”

With my armament haki, I cracked the middle of the ring. “Dragon Claw Fist, Dragon Breathe!” I shouted, the force of my attack breaking the ring apart. The structure began to collapse, and the water below started to pull the debris toward the center. Diamante’s voice came through, filled with disbelief. “What the hell did you do?”

I turned to face him, a determined glint in my eyes. “I got places to be, a princess to see, and a fruit to win!” I said. As the ring capsized and water surged below, I spotted the fish I had been searching for. “The treasure, there she is!” I said, grabbing the Flame-Flame Fruit from the treasure chest.

“You’re all out of bounds, which makes me the victor. Thanks for the prize,” I said, holding up the fruit. I took a bite, chewing and grimacing. “Gross,” I muttered, but the power surging through me was undeniable. As Rebecca began to fall, I rushed to her side, catching her just in time. “Brace yourself, I’m about to light things up.”

I began to remove my disguise—the beard, the shades, and the helmet—letting my blonde hair cascade freely. Raising my left arm, I felt the power of the Flame-Flame Fruit surging through me. “Ace, I take your ability!” I declared, as I unleashed a massive fire fist on the middle of the ring. The impact shattered the entire structure, sending debris flying.

As I descended from the air, Koala appeared beside me. “I got in touch with Hack! He’s waiting for us!” she said.

Works for me,” I replied with a smirk. “I have a princess to see.” We landed on the pavement below the Colosseum, the chaos of the battle still ringing in my ears.

“Be careful! Now that you’ve eaten a Devil Fruit, sea water weakens you!” Koala warned as we hurried through the streets.

“Got it,” I said, my mind already on finding Y/N. We reached Hack, who was waiting for us.

“What happened to your hand?” Koala asked, noticing the bandage.

“Oh, that? I fell,” Hack said, looking away with a hint of embarrassment.

“You fell? Are you sure you’re not hiding something?” Koala teased.

“Anyway, here are your clothes!” Koala said, handing me the familiar attire. As I put on the gloves, one of them caught on fire momentarily.

“Looks like I’ll have to get used to this,” I muttered with a wry smile.

“Who are you? Come out and say it already,” Rebecca said, with Bartolomeo standing behind her.

“Me?” I asked, grinning. “The name’s Sabo. We’re members of the Revolutionary Army!”

“So, does that mean Lucy is also with you?” Rebecca inquired.

“No, we’re both enemies of the World Government, but he’s going to be the King of the Pirates,” I said, my grin widening.

“A Pirate?!” Rebecca exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Yep, and he’s my brother. Surprised?” I said, feeling a mix of pride and nostalgia.

“Crazy, huh? And he’s still the same reckless kid I remember. Reminds me of someone I know,” I said, my thoughts drifting to Y/N and Luffy.

“Funny, I could say the same thing about you,” Koala said, adjusting my top hat with a teasing smile.

“Give me some credit. I usually think things through,” I retorted, trying to regain my composure.

“Oh really? I doubt that’s what Y/N would say,” Koala said with a smirk.

I blushed. “Now what… I—”

“Oh, so she is here in Dressrosa,” Hack said. “Can’t wait to meet the woman who makes you weak in the knees,” he said, sending me a wink.

I felt my cheeks flush even more. “Yeah, she’s here too, but—”

“Wait a second, you know the beautiful Princess Y/N?” Bartolomeo interrupted, eyes wide with awe. Tears started to well up in his eyes as if he’d just heard the most incredible news.

“Yes, I know her very well,” I said, smirking as a cheeky thought crossed my mind. “In fact, she’s pretty amazing. And, well, she has this way of making me��”

“Making you what?” Bartolomeo asked eagerly, hanging on my every word.

I chuckled, playing along with his curiosity. “Let’s just say she’s got a talent for keeping me on my toes. Sometimes it feels like I’m just a puppet dancing on her strings.”

Bartolomeo’s eyes widened even more, and he gaped. “No way! She’s that incredible?!”

“Yep, and don’t let her charm fool you. She’s got a fiery side that can be quite… overwhelming,” I teased, leaning in slightly.

“Oh man, I’ve heard stories about her, but to hear it from you…” Bartolomeo trailed off, practically swooning.

“Yep, she’s one of a kind. 

Changing the subject Rebecca’s curiosity was piqued as she listened to the reason why we were here in Dressrosa to begin with. "So, you’re here to stop the arms trade? That’s quite a mission."

I nodded, turning serious. “Exactly. This place is exporting firearms that are fueling conflict across the world. We’re here to put a stop to it.”

Hack, who had just punched a box filled with firearms, added, “These weapons are being distributed to various groups and regimes. It’s a huge problem.”

Rebecca looked concerned. 

“If we can uncover the truth, we’ll have something substantial to report to Dragon.” I said

Just then, a familiar voice called out, “Koala!”

I turned to see Koala and Robin embracing in a heartfelt hug. Robin’s smile was a welcome sight. “Robin! ” Koala said. “I thought I saw you guys back there!” Said Robin.

“Hey!” I greeted, trying to keep my composure despite the earlier teasing. “It’s Ms. Robin!”

Bartolomeo’s eyes widened. 

“Run into Luffy?” Robin chuckled, 

“Oh, he ran into more than just Luffy.” Koala said, as she teased, “Yeah, you should have seen his face.”

I felt my cheeks flush red again. “Is he okay?” I asked, noticing that Robin was with someone who was almost unconscious.

“This is Usopp,” Robin explained. 

“He should probably get some rest.” I said, as I noticed he doesn't look to good. 

Bartolomeo’s eyes lit up with admiration. “The Sniper King, right? He’s amazing!” His voice trembled as he began to tear up again.

“Cool it, you weirdo,” I said with a smirk, trying to diffuse the situation.

Y/N POV… 

“Traffy!” Luffy called out, his voice filled with relief as he barreled towards Law. “I’m here to save you!” he added with a dramatic wave.

“Oh good, you’re not dead!” Luffy said, sounding more like he’d just escaped a great calamity.

Law shot Luffy an annoyed look. “Didn’t I ask you to destroy the factory, Strawhat?” His voice was tinged with frustration. “Well, did you?” 

We gathered around Law, and I took the opportunity to sidle up close, gently cupping his face with a teasing grin. “Is that any way to thank us?” I asked, my voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I mean, I got myself captured by Doflamingo just to lead Luffy here, and even went head-first into danger while you were out cold.”

Law’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You did WHAT?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising with shock.

“Oops, did I say that out loud?” I said, giving Law an innocent shrug. Before he could respond, a voice from the side window interrupted.

“Strawhat, Violet, I won’t let you lay a finger on—” the figure gasped, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. “Now who the hell is this guy?” I asked, looking at Luffy and Violet.

“Young, Young Master… who did this?” the man stammered, looking around in panic.

“Just a sec, I’m going to get you out of here,” Luffy said, grabbing the keys from Violet and approaching Law’s restraints.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. Our alliance is terminated, so get lost,” Law said, still bound by the sea prism stone handcuffs.

“Quit being so stubborn!” I said to Law, frustration creeping into my voice. “You’re so selfish; I want to keep working with you, so deal with it!” Luffy chimed in, 

“Can you guys quit bickering for just two seconds?!” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. The tiara, already precariously loose, threatened to fall off.

Luffy’s hands were shaking as he tried to unlock Law’s sea prism handcuffs. “Umm, guys…” I said, trying to get their attention. “You do realize that with the alliance called off, we’re enemies now. If you set me free, I’ll kill you!” Law, clearly irked, said,

“It’s hard enough to unlock these handcuffs with you squirming around. So stop moving!” said Luffy still struggling to get the key in the lock.

“Steady,” Violet said, trying to assist as Luffy fumbled.

Law’s irritation showed as he continued, “You guys weren’t paying any attention to me at all, were you? 

This is ridiculous. Why don’t you do it!” Luffy said about to hand back the Key to Violet.

“I can’t! I ate a Devil Fruit, too!” Violet said, frustration evident in her voice.

“Give me that!” I said, grabbing the keys. Just as I was about to unlock the handcuffs, a sinister chuckle filled the room.

The floor suddenly rose beneath us, causing us all to tumble. I landed right on Law’s lap as his chair toppled over.

“Law, are you alright?” I asked, still awkwardly sprawled on his lap.

Law’s smirk widened, and he looked down at me with a playful glint in his eye. His open sweater revealed his well-defined muscles and the detailed tattoo on his chest. “Well, this is quite the predicament,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “I didn’t expect you to make a move like this.”

I tried to get off Law’s lap, my cheeks flushed from the unexpected proximity. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” I said, attempting to regain my composure.

“It’s the wall guy!” Luffy shouted, drawing our attention.

“Wall guy?!” I echoed, confused.

Doflamingo’s headless body continued to laugh, his disembodied voice echoing through the room. “What a way to go, huh? That was a surprise.”

I took a cautious step back, my disbelief growing. “There’s no way...”

“Mingo’s alive?!” Luffy exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Damn it!” I muttered, feeling the weight of the situation. Doflamingo’s mocking laughter filled the room as he continued, “The whole country should be spiraling into chaos now that all the toys have been freed. And for whatever reason, we have members of the Revolutionary Army nosing around too.”

“Sabo!” I thought, my concern for him rising. I clenched my right hand, feeling the power of my rings coursing through me, ready to fight.

“It’s a sad state of affairs at the palace, don’t you think?” Doflamingo taunted. “I’m left with no other choice but to use the Birdcage.”

Law, still chained and visibly shaken, faltered. I crouched down beside him, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Law, are you alright?”

“The Birdcage,” Law muttered, his eyes wide with fear. “You remember, don’t you, Law?”

Doflamingo's mocking laughter echoed across the crumbling palace. "Well, I suppose I shouldn’t delay this further," he sneered, ready to unleash his devastating power.

Kyros, with unwavering determination, sprang into action, his blade poised to deliver another slash. "How can you still be alive, Doflamingo?!" he shouted.

Before Kyros could land his blow, Doflamingo suddenly appeared behind him. “Kyros, watch out!” I yelled, panic rising in my chest.

Doflamingo’s voice dripped with menace as he taunted, “Do you want me to show you how to properly behead a man?”

My heart raced, and I whispered to myself, "How are there two of them?" The palace was now split in half from the sheer force of Doflamingo’s power, but Luffy, in his usual heroic fashion, managed to save Kyros just in time.

“Damn, Strawhat!” Doflamingo growled, both of his forms now looming behind Luffy.

“Luffy, watch out!” I shouted, my voice strained with worry.

“Pentachromatic Strings!” Doflamingo unleashed his attack, but Luffy managed to dodge, barely escaping the deadly strings.

“Gomu Gomu Jet Gatling!” Luffy retaliated, fists flying at lightning speed, but his punches were useless. Doflamingo’s protection remained unscathed, not even a scratch.

The second Doflamingo figure appeared, slashing Luffy across the back, blood spilling from the wound. “Luffy!” I screamed, my heart sinking as I watched him get punched with a crushing force, sending him flying into the wall, creating a deep dent.

“He made a marionette?” I whispered in shock, Violet confirming my suspicions.

Doflamingo, ever the sadistic puppeteer, turned his attention to King Riku, twisting the knife further. “Do you remember the night you betrayed your people, controlled by me? Don’t worry, I’m going to release you all.”

“Pika,” Doflamingo commanded, “I think it’s time you scatter these roaches.”

The ground beneath us trembled violently as Pika's massive form shifted. In one swift move, Pika grabbed us, his stone body towering over the shattered palace, and hurled us all into the air.

“Ahhh!” I screamed, tumbling helplessly, bracing for the inevitable impact.

“Hang on, guys!” Luffy shouted. “Gomu Gomu Balloon!”

With Luffy’s body acting as a cushion, we bounced safely onto the ground below, narrowly avoiding the harsh landing. “He took us right out of the palace,” Luffy muttered, clearly frustrated as we gathered ourselves and looked back up at the towering fortress.

Then, I heard Law’s voice, barely a whisper but thick with fear. “The Birdcage… it’s starting…”

We all turned, our gazes locking onto the sight that filled us with dread. High above us, Doflamingo was preparing to activate his infamous technique—the Birdcage, a twisted, lethal cage of strings that would trap and crush everyone in Dressrosa.

Suddenly, explosions rang out, followed by the sounds of utter chaos. “What the hell is happening down there?!” I exclaimed, as the screams of terrified civilians filled the air. The ground beneath us shook violently, and we all looked up in disbelief—Pika was lifting the entire royal palace away from its foundation.

“He’s changing the terrain,” Law said, his voice filled with tension.

Before any of us could react, the dark voice of Doflamingo boomed over the chaos. A video transmission appeared in the sky, his ominous face projected for all to see. “Citizens of Dressrosa and guests, greetings. Might I have a word?” he began, his tone dripping with malice. “Now that you know the truth, there’s no doubt in my mind that you all plan to kill me. But I’ve prepared a little game for you.”

The words sent chills down my spine as Doflamingo continued, “Your objective is to kill me. You can find me in the royal palace. Take my life, and the game ends. I die, you win. And as an added bonus, I will give you a second way to win.”

We all watched in horrified silence as the video transponder flickered, his sadistic grin widening. “I am about to read out a list of people, so get your pens ready. If you are able to bring me their dead bodies, I will reward you with a sizeable bounty for each and every head I receive. From this moment on, every person in the kingdom is a bounty hunter. The only way to survive is to take the life of another.”

Luffy and I exchanged furious glances, clenching our fists in rage, just as Zoro joined us. Doflamingo’s voice echoed across the city. “Will you join my family? Or meet my demands and hold these twelve fools accountable for the rebellion? Each of these ‘stars’ will be worth 100 million berries each. Let me read the list…”

As the names began to roll off Doflamingo’s lips, my heart sank. “Rebecca… Nico Robin… Foxfire Kinemon… Viola… and Cyborg Franky.”

I tensed at the mention of Robin’s, Franky’s and Kinemons name. “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. Zoro turned to me, sensing my unease.

Doflamingo's voice continued, unwavering and cruel. “Now, for the two-star bounties… Kyros, and Pirate Hunter Zoro.”

I turned to Zoro, frustration bubbling inside me. “He’s not making this easy on anyone.”

Zoro’s usual confidence didn’t falter. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said, his tone reassuring, though his eyes were cold and focused.

Doflamingo’s next words sent a shock through me. “Now, let’s move on to the head honchos. I present to you… the three-star bounties. Sabo, the chief of staff of the Revolutionary Army!”

My heart froze. My hands began to shake as a gasp escaped my lips. “Sabo, no…” I whispered, fear clawing at my chest.

“You know him, Y/N?” Zoro asked, his eyes narrowing. I turned to him, whispering softly, “He was… Sam from the all-male island I trained on.”

“What?!” Zoro exclaimed, his shock evident, but there was no time to explain further.

Doflamingo’s twisted voice continued, “Strawhat Luffy… King Riku… and Trafalgar Law!”

I felt like the world was spinning out of control. “This is madness…” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And finally, the five-star bounty…” Doflamingo’s voice took on a sinister edge. “The man who has aroused my indignation and resentment more than any other… God Usopp.”

I choked on my own spit, unable to believe my ears. “Usopp?!” I exclaimed, my mind racing. “This is bad,” Zoro muttered, his eyes narrowing. Luffy stood there, just as stunned.

“Out of all people, they give Usopp the highest one?!” I said, clenching my fists in disbelief.

“We have to—” I started to say, but I was cut off by Doflamingo’s final, venomous words. “And, as an added bonus, since I’m so generous… we have the six-star bounty, worth 600 million berries.”

The transponder showed my image next, my title emblazoned beneath it: “Princess” Y/N, a Strawhat Pirate.”

Doflamingo’s smile widened cruelly. “This princess… is to be brought to me alive. That’s right, alive. For those of you wondering why… well, let’s just say I have special plans for her. After all, royalty deserves a proper welcome,” his voice oozed with menace. “And once I have her, I’ll make sure she never escapes my grasp again.”

His chilling words hung in the air like a heavy weight. My blood boiled, anger and fear coursing through me. “Damn you, Doflamingo,” I growled under my breath.

[blue--ingenue]

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 3

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: i'm having so much fun writing soft sweet Sebastian :) which means the next part is, of course, the sweet Garreth- jealous Sebastian chapter. thank you so much for reading, and for your sweet comments! each one is like a little treat i throw to my adhd brain to get it to write more

P.S. - let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist <3

In the days following quidditch tryouts Sebastian’s presence became increasingly sporadic. He had always excelled in academics, and now that Anne was back by his side for their final two years of school he felt that he truly had the time to absorb everything their professors had to offer. Every minute not spent at quidditch was consumed by a steadily-growing list of assignments. Well, almost every minute. Despite his packed schedule he always found a way to spend time with you. Whether it was a rushed breakfast before his first lecture or a stroll among the stacks at the library, you never went more than a few hours without his presence.

You were just buttering a vanilla scone and chatting with Natty when you heard the familiar cadence of his footfalls. Your cheeks reddened immediately and whatever you two had been chatting about flew in one ear and out the other. Natty noticed your change in posture, took one glance at Sebastian’s approaching form, and gave you a conspiratorial wink before getting up to leave. You shot her a grateful smile as she gathered her books in her arms and took off. She knew you’d fill her in on all the details later.

“Good morning, Natty,” Sebastian greeted as they passed each other. She glanced between the two of you before replying, “Indeed it is.” Sebastian plopped onto the bench next to you and you turned to face him, scone laying forgotten on your plate. His hair was damp, as though he’d just showered, and you pushed away the thoughts that spread a certain warmth through your chest and up to your cheeks. His brown eyes glittered as morning sun streamed through the stained glass windows and highlighted flecks of gold. You smiled as you looked him up and down before once again picking up your abandoned breakfast.

“What?” he asked, the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. You allowed your affection to slip into your smile as you tilted your head. “Nothing, it’s just good to see you,” you replied easily. Sebastian’s popularity had skyrocketed since joining the quidditch team. You were happy for him, to be sure, but the gaggle of girls that sat through his practices and trailed after him in the halls ignited a jealousy in you that you had never felt before. All this culminated in you upping your flirting with Sebastian. He responded in kind, and your back-and-forth banter pulled on your heartstrings with an unbearable ferocity. He had been play-flirting with you since the day you met, but you hadn’t the courage to reciprocate until after he’d taken the fall for you in the Restricted Section. While you meant every word, it was clear that flirting for him was as natural as breathing. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing his friendship if you decided to tell him the truth. At least for now you could almost pretend that he meant every flirtatious wink, grin, and suggestive whisper he shot your way.

Sebastian hummed in a tone that indicated he knew she was holding something back, but he didn’t press on. “You see me every day,” he commented as he ladled porridge into a bowl. He dumped a generous helping of sugar into the mix before spooning some into his mouth. A fleck of porridge stuck on the corner of his mouth and you laughed. You leaned close to him and adopted the most demure voice you could muster. You traced a finger from his cheek to the offending bit of breakfast and swiped it off with the tip of your finger. 

 “I do,” you whispered. “And each time is just as delightful as the last,” you retreated back to your spot, but not before licking the porridge from your index finger with a deft swipe of your tongue. You held his gaze for a second more before bursting into a fit of giggles. A few moments later you glanced back at him, expecting a mirror image of your own amusement, but Sebastian wasn’t laughing. In fact, he seemed petrified. If it weren’t for the scarlet flush in his cheeks, you’d have suspected someone had hexed him when you weren’t looking.

“Seb?” you asked, now genuinely concerned. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Instinctively you placed the back of your hand upon his forehead before placing your palm against his cheek. 

“You’re burning up! Did you wear that extra scarf I told you to wear to practice last night? Have you caught a cold?” you fretted. He swallowed and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, coloring his soft lips a plush red. You couldn’t stop your gaze from drifting down to his lips. Involuntarily, you shuddered. Mortified, you were about to jerk your hand away when he caught you by the wrist. His grip was firm, yet gentle and you suddenly realized how close the two of you had drifted. 

“Yes, I- I’m quite…” he was hoarse, voice trailing off as his eyes darkened. You were bewildered. You couldn’t have moved even if you had wanted to. As though someone had snapped their fingers and pulled him from a trance, he seemed to remember himself. He dropped your hand and your heart stuttered at the sudden loss of contact. He straightened his back and cleared his throat. Whatever mood had possessed him was gone in an instant. “I have something for you,” he declared.

You plastered on a fake smile and scooted back, keeping a healthy distance between the both of you. “Oh?” He reached into his robes and pulled out a familiar blue and brown box. Despite the fading ache in your heart, you grinned. You accepted it gratefully and tore into the packaging, catching the chocolate frog before it could make good on its jump.

“When did you have time to stop by Honeydukes? I thought practice ended just before curfew last night,” you questioned before taking a bite and sighing contentedly. Sebastian watched you with a fond smile. 

“I flew by Hogsmeade after Imelda dismissed us. I’ve gotten a lot better at sneaking past the prefects in Central Hall since our little escapade in fifth year,” he grinned. You picked up the card tucked into the bottom of the box. A miniature captain of the Pride of Portree stood proudly, her arms crossed and broom propped up next to her. You held out the card for him to inspect. 

“I reckon I’ll be seeing your pretty face on one of these in a few seasons,” you teased. Sebastian preened, puffing out his chest and running a hand through his curls. “You think I’m pretty?” he grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“Pretty insufferable,” you responded. This banter was much easier. No room for misinterpretation or wishful thinking. He perked up, hand flying to his other pocket.

“I almost forgot! I got you something else, too,” he exclaimed. A few moments later his fist curled around something you couldn’t quite make out. His earlier blush had returned with a vengeance and he seemed almost…sheepish? He coughed nervously. “Close your eyes,” he murmured. You obliged. Your heart was thumping like a runaway rabbit. So loud was the heartbeat in your ears that you almost believed the boy next to you could hear it. He gently unfurled your right hand and dropped something light and metallic into it. “Alright, you can look,” he said.

You opened your eyes and looked at the small gift. It was a necklace. A delicate silver chain slipped between your fingers and shone in the sunlight. In your palm, secured to the chain, was a crystal. It was rough-cut and encased in elegantly looping silver. You could have sworn it was changing colors with every turn of your palm. You squinted, inspecting the pendant closely. The swirls reminded you of something. “It almost looks like - ”

“Your ancient magic,” he finished. With deft fingers he stood, took the necklace from your open palm, and secured it behind your neck. “Well, the symbol, anyway,” he said quietly. He was rubbing the back of his neck and hadn’t yet met your eyes. You didn’t realize you’d been grinning until your cheeks started to ache. 

“I bought it from a traveling merchant as I was leaving Honeydukes,” he explained. You gazed down fondly at the little crystal as he began rambling. “It’s a ‘mood necklace.’ Not like one of those muggle trinkets, mind you. This one actually changes colors to match your mood.”

He noticed you still hadn’t said anything and went on, “Not that there’s anything wrong with muggles! I know you came from a muggle orphanage before coming here. If you don’t like it, I could always return it. Or, er, I’m not sure the merchant will still be there, but-”

“Sebastian!” you cut him off with a laugh. “I love it,” you assured him. He grinned, his relief palpable as his shoulders visibly released the tension he’d been holding.

“I mean, I knew you would,” he said, chin tilted up with a confidence that was so typically Sebastian. You turned the crystal, trying to catch the moment it flickered from color to color. 

“What moods do each of the shades correspond to?” you wondered aloud. His gaze flickered away from yours as he replied, “I’ve no idea. The merchant gave me a bit of parchment that explained each of the colors, but I must have lost it on the flight back.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Either way, thank you. Sebastian. It’s truly beautiful.”

“Yes,” he breathed. Your gaze flickered to his, and for a moment, a fleeting second that felt like forever, his eyes weren’t on the pendant, but on your face. You cleared your throat.

“We should head to Potions,” you said, trying to bury the wanting and wishing feeling you had become all too acquainted with over the past few years. Sebastian nodded, his gaze unreadable, and gathered both of your books before leading the way to your first class.

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Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have another part of our friends with benefits rec list! You can find part one here, and we also plan to have another part to this that will come out eventually. Be sure to check out these fics and show them love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) A Treat For You And A Treat For Me | Explicit | 3416 words

Louis blushed at Harry’s flirty tone. “You’re just saying that to get in my pants.” He giggled, half joking. “But thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

“Not just to get in your pants, baby. I’m being honest. You’re always cute. Are you wearing mascara?” He asked, licking over his lips. Louis in makeup always did something to Harry. He loved it.

Louis nodded, leaning forward. “I am. Do you like it? I’m also wearing some cute Halloween panties under my costume.. if you wanna see them later?” He murmured, letting his lips touch Harry’s lightly before pulling away, a tiny smile on his lips.

Harry’s mouth opened a bit, but no words came out. Instead Louis was lifted up and carried in Harry’s arms, up the stairs. “Later? I wanna see them now.” He whispered into Louis’ ear, hot breath sending shivers down Louis’ body. “Missed you so much since last time.”

2) Kissy | Not Rated | 6876 words

Harry buys a motorcycle against Louis's advice, and it might be the best mistake of his life. Kissy.

3) You're The Only One Who's Making Me Come, To My Sinful Senses | Explicit | 9355 words

Louis the dance major and Harry the business major meet on Tinder. They hook up regularly and come to find out they like each other more than they let on.

4) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

5) Butterfly Kisses | Explicit | 11832 words

Himbo Harry is smitten with stem cell researcher Louis, who only dates smart people.

6) Before You Go, Can You Read My Mind? | Not Rated | 13415 words

Harry can listen to whatever is going inside of Louis’ head and breaks up with him. Louis can never let it go.

7) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13487 words

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

8) Wait For Me (To Come Home) | Explicit | 16066 words

"I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say, ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’"

9) Dance Like Waves Along The Wind | Explicit | 17031 words

A Greek Mythology AU where Louis is Adonis and Harry is Poseidon. Louis would really like to move on with his everyday life without everyone on Mt. Olympus talking about his ex, who just happens to be the God of the Sea.

10) Keeping The Flame Alive | Explicit | 19706 words

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

11) The Evenness I Fake | Explicit | 26372 words

Harry doesn’t do relationships. He has a perfectly enjoyable friends-with-benefits agreement with a perfectly lovely omega, and he doesn’t see the need to change that anytime soon. The small fact that Louis giving his attention to another alpha makes Harry want to put his head through a wall isn’t nearly as much of an issue as everyone’s making it out to be.

12) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

13) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

14) Tarnished But So Grand | Explicit | 32258 words

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

15) You’re An Alpha, Harry! | Explicit | 32900 words

Right before Harry goes to university, he presents as an alpha. Struggling with his newfound identity in a completely different environment, he seeks advice from the notorious Louis Tomlinson, an omega whose claim to fame is being the local campus sex expert. Sex Education AU.

16) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.

For a while, it’s enough.

17) A Common Place Affliction | Not Rated | 36508 words

“You should go home,” Louis muses, and Harry can feel the omega crouch down to become eye level with Harry, poking his cheek with a dainty finger. Harry lifts his arm, taking a peek at Louis’ face. Louis looks tired, he notes, but not exhausted, and there’s an eyelash stuck to his cheek. Harry doesn’t hesitate to lazily reach out and thumb over his cheek.

“Can’t,” Harry croaks, blindly twisting his hand around to grab at Louis’ offending finger and just holding it. “C’mere. Take a nap with me,” he asks after a beat, opening an eye to look at Louis.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “M’not going to nap with you in the middle of the ER, H.”

Sighing, Harry squeezes the young nurse’s finger. “Nobody cares.” He knows they do; they’ll annoy nurses and probably worry patients when they catch sight of a nurse and surgeon sleeping on the job. Let alone in the middle of the emergency ward hallway. Harry can hear the complaints now: ‘these are the people we’re supposed to trust with our lives?’

18) Smoke Between Your Teeth | Explicit | 37015 words

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

19) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

20) Where I End and You Begin | Explicit | 42730 words

Global rock sensation Harry Styles is set to perform in his sold out residencies across six major cities. What happens when his usual makeup artist can’t make it and they hire the most beautiful human he’s ever laid eyes on? Surely it couldn’t be that hard to remain professional.

21) Two Can Play That Game | Explicit | 44221 words

Harry and Louis have been best friends since they were little. Now being flatmates, both being single, they decide to hook up during the weekends as that is easier than having to go look for someone nice to hook up with.

But can friends with benefits really work? Or do feelings get in the way?

22) Social Cues | Explicit | 55860 words

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

23) Know I Think You’re Awesome, Right? | Explicit | 60113 words

“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”

“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.

“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.

“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”

“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”

24) Quite On The Contrary | Explicit | 63816 words

Neighbors x High School AU where it all started with Harry moving next door to the Tomlinsons, a balcony break in, mixed feelings, a poorly thought-out initiation, several missing sweaters and a lot of non-platonic activities.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[yarrystyleeza]

𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓭

𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

The moment I've been waiting for has finally come! As I indicated in the headline, I've reached 200 followers here on Tumblr, thank you all so much, this truly means a lot to me, also thank you for the feedback I always got on my works and even my random shitposts! <3

and to celebrate this very important and remarkable life event— I had planned a sleepover celebration which consists of games, questions, asks, and of course, requests! <3

The sleepover will be a week long, from September 15th till the 21st of the same month where you can submit asks and requests!

As for games, I have a list of them!

Kiss/Marry/Kill: you give me three characters and I will sort each one in one of these categories! (make it hard for me)

This or That: you give me two things/characters and I get to choose one that suits me better! (for example: night owl or early bird?)

make an assumption: you literally make an assumption about me and I either prove it or deny it!

never have I ever: you ask me about things I did or didn't do!

exchanged ships: you basically give me a character that you find as my significant other, and I will give you a character in exchange and why I think it's the perfect character for you!

Q&A: you can ask me about anything, whether it's my favorite food or even what fabrics do I prefer to wear, ask whatever you want!

Girly talks: just talk to me about any girly topic you want and we'll establish a good conversation! Let's talk about books or authors, favorite poetry pieces, maybe movies we loved in our childhood, or even your favorite outfits back when you were a 10 year old! Literally anything!

Rate my music taste: give me a song/artist and I will rate it from 1 (absolute flop) to 10 (total banger)! — (this is absolutely done just for fun).

I wanna write you a song: start with a phrase and we will make a totally original song together in the reblogs!

Note on prohibited things that I won't be doing or answering:

No nsfw/dirty asks, writing requests or questions, it's uncomfortable for me, and it's an all-ages-friendly celebration. No further elaboration, please respect this. <3

AND FINALLY, THE REQUESTS!

As for writing requests, I will be taking fluff/angst/violence (blood and gore—due to the nature of the characters I write for) x female!reader requests only. And of course you can request the prompt you desire. <3

As for the characters, here's a list of the fictional men that I would be writing for:

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Tristan Thorn

Michael Kinsella

Daryl Dixon

(might consider writing for other Charlie Cox/Norman Reedus characters. example: Ian Hamilton, Henry the vampire, Scud, Murphy MacManus, etc.)

You can ask for prompt included in this list or ones you come up with yourself:

Intimate moments

Gestures that make me feel love

Romantic rainy day prompts

gentle things that makes me fall harder in love

fluffy comforting/sick dialogue prompts

lighthearted first kiss scenarios

Sparring prompts

Forced proximity prompts

Date prompts masterpost

Note that I will be tagging the fic requests with #yuna's 2h sleepover celebration so that they're all sorted there, but they will be sorted in my main masterlist as regular requests! <3

tagging my moots to spread the word sorry for being a little too annoying hehe (and I tried to tag as much as possible but my memory is messing around with me I'm sorry if I forgot anyone) @v4leoftears @remonemo @fizanotfeeza @netflixmatt @bellaxgiornata @farfromstrange @itwasthereaminuteago @loveroftoomanyfandoms @little-miss-dilf-lover @tongueofcat @mattmurdockscox @courtforshort15 @chvoswxtch @mattmurdocksscars @kal-0n @murc0ck @babygrlmurdock @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @acharliecoxedfan @mindidjarin @she-likesorchids @munsonownsmyass @saintmurd0ck @murdocklorian @abbyhaslongshorts @theradioactivespidergwen @softasawhisper @peterman-spideyparker @mattmurdocksstarlight @netflixmatt-main

That's basically everything I have for my first sleepover celebration, feel free to submit your requests and games anytime! Thank you for coming to my sleepover tonight! <3

[lord-jen-grey]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thanks @flyinghome-againstthewind for the ask!!

My 5 fave fics that I wrote.

You know I’m a big supporter of self love 😏.

I have to say O Night Divine would have been on this list, but I don’t think of it as a fic anymore because it’s so much more. Because of that, my 5 faves are pretty easy to come up with. Here we goooooo….

5. The Silver of Moonlight from the Sun, Moon, and Truth series

This story was so natural to write. The series might be some of the sexiest stuff I’ve written (for whatever that’s worth). The main reason it’s such a fave for me is because multiple people shared with me how it helped them open their minds about their sexuality and accept proudly who they are. Fucking incredible.

4. A Thousand Ships from the Tales of James Fraser series

I sat with this idea for 6 months before I started writing it. I laughed myself to tears coming up with the idea, and I laughed typing every fucking word. If I’ve done anything brilliant in my life, it execute this concept.

3. Paved With Yellow Stones

I can’t begin to describe the effort that went into this story. The planning of every minute detail. The intricate plot that could not be deviated from once it was started. It was not easy, and it took a few years of learning to plan and execute complex plot to write something like this. So, yeah, I’m proud of this baby.

2. Like Petals Falling

This story was meant to be a quick and simple palate cleanser after writing a few dark, heavy plots in other fics. How did it turn into something so deeply personal? Well, THE POETRY. Poetry is, at its essence, DEEP and MEANINGFUL. I’ve poured so much of myself into this story in a way I had never done so with any fic before. 🥹

1. Journey of a Thousand Kisses and the 1000 Kisses series.

The intention with this story was to combine my favorite things: obsessively in love Frasers, fucking in the Highlands like rabbits, and building a perfect, happy life. I wanted to write a joyful story that did not require a ton of devastation as the main point of the plot. That’s not an easy feat as a writer. It’s beat into our heads that conflict is vital to good storytelling, and I was intentionally removing so much of that conflict, focusing more on the dynamic between them and resolving a mystery that the readers didn’t even know existed until 6/7 of the way through the story! I wanted people to think it was pure fluff, but then be blindsided by so much more. Then I wanted to do it again with 6 more stories in this universe. I love this series the most, and I love its beginning more than anything.

Do you agree with this list? Do you have another thoughts? I’d love to hear them. 🥰

[minmos]

Hello ! Thanks for bearing with me , I am a Palestinian educator from Gaza whose life is dire and gruesome. Nothing has left for my family except the hope you can support and help us. After 9 months of war we became exhausted, hopeless , desperate , and displaced. Houses and livelihood sources have been lost and gone with the wind. Things are driving us insane and made. The least level of life can't be attained. Healthy water and food have become a dream we need to realize. What worsens our life more is the constant bombings and killings. That is why I am asking in this post to help us survive this unbearable circumstances , moving from hell to safety and peace. Your support can help us be safe and alive so friends you can support us either by directly donating whatever you can or by sharing my campaign links so that generous people can know about our tragedy and pain. Remember your small contribution can make a big difference for the lives of many children whose heath gets worse and worse everyday. Let their life change and let them feel happy through your kind contribution.

https://gofund.me/9b764ae7 ❤️💚🤍🖤

yes, of course. <3 i wish the best for you & your family.

everyone, this is fundraiser #144 on el-shab-hussein's list of verified fundraisers. here is a link to the gofundme page:

https://gofund.me/9b764ae7

please donate if you are able & spread fadi's posts if you can't.

[neallo]

29 | she/they | follows from @blondiest

my caard

hi there! this is a compiled list of all my deathnote writing. this is a sideblog (i follow from @blondiest) and is also sometimes explicit. minors - please do not interact w/ explicit posts or fics.

ships i write for in practice: mello/near, matt/mello/near, matt/halle

ships i write for in theory: matt/light, halle/naomi, halle/takada

below is a list of fics i have posted, separated by completion status. i also sometimes share excerpts/snippets of my writing, which can be found under the my writing tag; answered asks can be found under asks; original posts can be found under neallopost. i am not always that good at tagging things unfortunately :-) but i am. trying <3

please see here for my ficlet masterpost for works under 1k that are not part of a larger universe!

complete:

hot soup on a cold day

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]

“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.

hot tea on a cold night

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]

Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”

Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

[part 2 of Time Together]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 3/3 | words: 14.8k

This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world

[part 1 of together (always)]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)

[part 2 of together (always)]

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.

there's nothing i want but you

[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.

nothing hurts like you do

[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k

Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.

i want to hold you (hostage)

[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k

Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)

love enough to drown it out

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.7k

Even when Near is not himself, he’s still Mello’s.

my only one, my smoking gun

[part 1 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k

For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.

heaven is a place on earth with you

[part 2 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.

replication in reverse

[part 3 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

Mello mumbles something into his neck, something to the effect of waiting until Near is ready for him to move, but Near only halfway registers it. Golden hair tickles his nose, and he pictures mitosis— prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase— then imagines cytokinesis in reverse. Two cells pushed together until, somehow, their membranes connect, two phospholipid bilayers self-arranging into one continuous structure, cytoplasms mingling. He swallows thickly and longs for something impossible.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away

[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

engaged

[part 1 of marital bliss]

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”

married

[part 2 of marital bliss]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3k

Being married to Mello is, Near finds, better than he could have ever imagined. For the last two months, every day has started the same way. He wakes up to the sound of their alarm, surrounded by Mello. Mello’s chest warm against his back, Mello’s breath tickling his neck, Mello’s arm curled around him, solid and sure. Near has to squirm out of his embrace to turn off the clock, and said squirming inevitably wakes Mello. By the time Near has silenced the alarm, his husband is propped up on one elbow, staring. “Get back here,” Mello always says, his voice coarse with sleep and low enough to make Near shiver.

it’s friday, i’m in love

[part 1 of (not so) casual sex]

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k

Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.

early arrival

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.

Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k

The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.

unknown caller (part 1 of unforeseen circumstances)

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k

“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.

unexpected visitor (part 1 of unforeseen circumstances)

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 7.2k

By the time Mello makes her way to New York and into Near’s bedroom, she has both seriously pissed Near off (by using the murder notebook to kill half her organization) and permanently disfigured herself (by blowing up a building while she was still inside it). She’d imagined slightly rosier circumstances for taking Near’s virginity, but Mello is nothing if not adaptable. She’ll make do or die trying.

shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k

Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”

something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)

rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k

A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.

tobacco tongue

rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800

When Halle wakes up, her resolve is stone: she is not going to fuck Matt again. -- In which Halle swears it's the last time (for the fifth time).

three part harmony

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 2/2 | words: 6.1k

The thing is, whether Mello wants to admit it or not, there’s clearly chemistry between him and Near. It’s not like what he and Matt have with one another; it’s more intense. A little volatile, maybe. It used to be almost painful for Matt to watch, because it made him feel excluded, but he thinks that was probably more a product of his own insecurities than anything else. Now, though... well. Now it kind of turns him on. The first time he realized that, it startled him, because he wasn't just turned on by Mello being in his element, staring intently at Near as the two of them talked over the details of a new case. No. Something about how Near was looking at Mello, the gleam in his eye, the serious set of his jaw— Alright. Matt has a type, okay? He doesn't know why freaky little geniuses do it for him, they just do. Mello probably broke his brain when they lost their virginity to each other in L.A. five years back. It's not Matt’s fault.

untouched

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.5k

The storm is the only reason Near is here, and the only reason Mello let him in. That’s what Mello is trying to tell himself, anyway. — In which an old habit turns into something new.

good boy

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 5.3k

Mello’s stare is warm and constant, and the comforting exhilaration of it builds and builds within Near until he feels like he may burst. There is something he wants to say to Mello, but he doesn’t know what it is. Before he can ever say anything at all, though, Mello stands to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. Before he goes, he gives Near two lists. One for the night. One for the next morning. Near always follows them to the letter. — In which Mello and Near form a dom-sub relationship centered entirely around shared meals and to-do lists.

THE END IS NEAR

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.7k

So here they are now, in the middle of the bible belt with a disposable camera and an unspoken agreement to ignore the elephant in the room. Or— elephants, plural, because there are a whole host of things they aren’t discussing. The Kira case is one, and maybe the biggest, but they also haven’t talked about Mello’s photo or the words on the back of it, and Near hasn’t dared to voice the question that he keeps asking himself: Why am I here?

better than him

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.2k

In which Mello thinks Near has a boyfriend, and Near thinks Mello has an infidelity kink.

to have & to hurt

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 7k

Five times Mello is harsh with Near, and one time he is very tender.

august 18th, 2010 (two-hundred days)

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.6k

Near is sitting in his office. He is sitting at his desk in his office, which is also Mello’s office, because they share one, now. Mello is under two meters away from him, sitting at his own desk and glaring at his backlit monitor like he wants to kill it. This has been their status quo for about seven months. Near knows the exact figure— two-hundred days— but he usually avoids acknowledging that he knows it, even in his own mind. Having this information on hand feels slightly illicit, because he knows the only reason he recalls the duration of their professional partnership with this degree of precision is because of what happened immediately before it began.

starving

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k

Near is hungry. No— not hungry. Near is famished. He’s starving. Mello can see it in the pronounced pallor of his face, the dullness of his eyes. In life, he could go for a day and a half without eating and barely notice. It wasn’t good for him, but he could do it without issue. In undeath, he is not so resilient.

clean cut (bleed slow)

[set in the universe of what doesn't kill me makes me want you more]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

The sting of alcohol is sharp on Mello’s split lip, but she suppresses the wince that threatens to surface. It’s bad enough that she lost her shit in front of Near; like hell she’ll let Near see her look weak, too.

a world transformed

[set in the universe of what doesn't kill me makes me want you more]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.7k

In which a gift transforms the way Near understands the world.

a hard day's night

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.5k

Near wakes to find himself in a soft, inky darkness, completely unable to move. His paralysis is not immediately noteworthy to him. At first, as he is rising from the depths of unconsciousness, it strikes him as quite natural. Comfortable, even. With his mind still half-blanketed by sleep, his thoughts slow and blurry, the weight bearing down on him feels almost like an embrace. This thought is what first brings his attention to the strangeness. Physical affection— physical contact, full-stop— is not part of his daily life. The only people who ever touch him are doctors, dentists, and Mello, though Mello only grabs him when he is about to walk through a puddle or into an obstacle, or, occasionally, when Mello is especially frustrated with him. No one embraces Near. -- In which Mello sleepily invades Near’s space, and Near puzzles through both what is happening and what to do about it.

the end of a long winter

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

Five years after the end of their relationship, Matt visits Mello in Minneapolis and meets her not-so-new girlfriend, whose face is a lot more familiar than he’d been expecting.

Impetus

[a sequel to Impulse by @/empressofthewind]

Ten full days after Near had cruelly and callously broken Mello's heart over email— over email, for God's sake— Mello began to experience what could only have been demonic possession or divine inspiration. Or maybe that was just the whiskey and the wishing. -- In which Mello pines and plots to win Near back with a pizza and a few bad lies.

works in progress:

there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k

“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.

bury us both

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 12/15 | words: 23.4k

Mello is demonstrably capable of killing, and has perhaps more reason to want Near dead than anyone else on the face of the earth. They were once rivals, and Near knows a fragment of that resentment lingers even now. She is also likely the only person who could successfully bring Mello to justice, so her very existence is a threat to Mello’s, in a sense. If that weren’t enough, there is the fact that Mello could make a fortune, too, were she to kill Near. There are no shortage of people who would pay a handsome sum to see L’s head on a platter. And it would be so simple for her to do it, so easy. She’s had countless opportunities— the two of them alone, Near in all kinds of vulnerable positions, any number of potentially deadly weapons within reach— but she’s never taken one. Despite having every possible motive and every possible chance, Mello has not killed her. On more than one occasion, she’s even protected Near. This is how she knows Mello loves her in her way, even if she has not said it aloud. Even if it isn’t enough to make her stay. -- Mello and Near through the years, in love and in agony.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k

“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.

all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 3/4 | words: 15.1k

Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.

an unusual proposal

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 4.5k

“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”

love chained

[part 2 of (not so) casual sex]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 4.7k

Against his will, his mind momentarily drifts to Near. He thinks about how Near gets chilled if he isn’t held close enough after he’s been fucked, and how perfectly his body fits against Mello’s own, how comfortable it is to curl around him. It never really bugs him that Near wants to be close after sex. There’s a sort of irresistibility to him, actually, that pulls Mello in— his skin damp and flushed, his breaths uneven, his limbs slack in the aftermath of his orgasm. Near smells kind of nice even when he’s all sweaty, and he makes this happy little sound when Mello’s face finds its way into the crook of his neck, and he’s so quiet and still when he falls asleep that it somehow soothes Mello into slumber, too. God damn it. At the end of the day, this is his problem. He shouldn’t have thoughts this fond about Near; it’s weird, and not at all casual, and if he lets it continue he’s going to completely wreck what they have.

15 Totally Chill Ways to Flirt With Your Crush

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 3.8k

He scanned through the table of contents. Hot Trends to Try This Summer. 20 Best Affordable Lip Glosses. How to Take Care of Your Mental Health in College. None of these were right. Near was not interested in fashion, suspected lip gloss would be unpleasant to him from a sensory perspective, and was already the picture of excellent mental health. He kept searching, a small frown on his face, until— lo and behold— he found the page number he was looking for and flipped to the article that would, he assumed, completely change his life: 15 Totally Chill Ways to Flirt With Your Crush.

faded to oblivion

rating: E | category: F/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 3.6k

When Near phoned and asked to see him, he had a few vague guesses as to what she might need from him. This was not on the list.

a game of chance

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 3/4 | words: 4.7k

“Um.” Mello wrinkles his nose at the objects in his palm. “What’s the point of this again?” They are standing in the living room of their shared apartment, and also possibly on the precipice of a new and thrilling chapter of their relationship, though Mello is—by design— unaware of this latter detail. — In which Near uses a special set of dice to shift the tides of his relationship with Mello.

[blondiest]

NEALLO / BLONDIEST

WRITING MASTERPOST

ships i have written for:

hellcheer (eddie/chrissy from stranger things season 4)

meronia (mello/near from death note)

this blog is almost entirely SFW, but my writing, which i frequently share on here, does not always fall into that category. minors please do not interact with my mature or explicit fics! you can also find me @neallo

find below a list of fics i have posted, separated by fandom and completion status! (note: hellcheer fics not yet added to this list. also it's really out of date)

death note fanfiction

complete:

hot soup on a cold day

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]

“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.

hot tea on a cold night

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]

Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”

Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

[part 2 of Time Together]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 3/3 | words: 14.8k

This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world

[part 1 of together (always)]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)

[part 2 of together (always)]

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.

there's nothing i want but you

[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.

nothing hurts like you do

[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k

Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.

i want to hold you (hostage)

[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k

Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)

my only one, my smoking gun

[part 1 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k

For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.

heaven is a place on earth with you

[part 2 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.

replication in reverse

[part 3 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

Mello mumbles something into his neck, something to the effect of waiting until Near is ready for him to move, but Near only halfway registers it. Golden hair tickles his nose, and he pictures mitosis— prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase— then imagines cytokinesis in reverse. Two cells pushed together until, somehow, their membranes connect, two phospholipid bilayers self-arranging into one continuous structure, cytoplasms mingling. He swallows thickly and longs for something impossible.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away

[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

engaged

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”

it’s friday, i’m in love

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k

Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.

early arrival

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.

Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k

The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.

wedding doves & leather gloves

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1k

“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”

unknown caller

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k

“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.

shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k

Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”

something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)

rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k

A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.

crying only because i’m happy

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 575

In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.

there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975

The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.

three part harmony

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 2/2 | words: 6.1k

The thing is, whether Mello wants to admit it or not, there’s clearly chemistry between him and Near. It’s not like what he and Matt have with one another; it’s more intense. A little volatile, maybe. It used to be almost painful for Matt to watch, because it made him feel excluded, but he thinks that was probably more a product of his own insecurities than anything else. Now, though... well. Now it kind of turns him on. The first time he realized that, it startled him, because he wasn't just turned on by Mello being in his element, staring intently at Near as the two of them talked over the details of a new case. No. Something about how Near was looking at Mello, the gleam in his eye, the serious set of his jaw— Alright. Matt has a type, okay? He doesn't know why freaky little geniuses do it for him, they just do. Mello probably broke his brain when they lost their virginity to each other in L.A. five years back. It's not Matt’s fault.

untouched

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.5k

The storm is the only reason Near is here, and the only reason Mello let him in. That’s what Mello is trying to tell himself, anyway. — In which an old habit turns into something new.

good boy

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 5.3k

Mello’s stare is warm and constant, and the comforting exhilaration of it builds and builds within Near until he feels like he may burst. There is something he wants to say to Mello, but he doesn’t know what it is. Before he can ever say anything at all, though, Mello stands to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. Before he goes, he gives Near two lists. One for the night. One for the next morning. Near always follows them to the letter. — In which Mello and Near form a dom-sub relationship centered entirely around shared meals and to-do lists.

works in progress:

there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k

“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.

bury us both

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 11/14 | words: 20k

Mello is demonstrably capable of killing, and has perhaps more reason to want Near dead than anyone else on the face of the earth. They were once rivals, and Near knows a fragment of that resentment lingers even now. She is also likely the only person who could successfully bring Mello to justice, so her very existence is a threat to Mello’s, in a sense. If that weren’t enough, there is the fact that Mello could make a fortune, too, were she to kill Near. There are no shortage of people who would pay a handsome sum to see L’s head on a platter. And it would be so simple for her to do it, so easy. She’s had countless opportunities— the two of them alone, Near in all kinds of vulnerable positions, any number of potentially deadly weapons within reach— but she’s never taken one. Despite having every possible motive and every possible chance, Mello has not killed her. On more than one occasion, she’s even protected Near. This is how she knows Mello loves her in her way, even if she has not said it aloud. Even if it isn’t enough to make her stay. -- Mello and Near through the years, in love and in agony.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k

“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.

all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 3/4 | words: 15.1k

Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.

an unusual proposal

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 2k

“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”

love chained

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 4.7k

Against his will, his mind momentarily drifts to Near. He thinks about how Near gets chilled if he isn’t held close enough after he’s been fucked, and how perfectly his body fits against Mello’s own, how comfortable it is to curl around him. It never really bugs him that Near wants to be close after sex. There’s a sort of irresistibility to him, actually, that pulls Mello in— his skin damp and flushed, his breaths uneven, his limbs slack in the aftermath of his orgasm. Near smells kind of nice even when he’s all sweaty, and he makes this happy little sound when Mello’s face finds its way into the crook of his neck, and he’s so quiet and still when he falls asleep that it somehow soothes Mello into slumber, too. God damn it. At the end of the day, this is his problem. He shouldn’t have thoughts this fond about Near; it’s weird, and not at all casual, and if he lets it continue he’s going to completely wreck what they have.

faded to oblivion

rating: E | category: F/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 3.6k

When Near phoned and asked to see him, he had a few vague guesses as to what she might need from him. This was not on the list.