#hes posed very awkwardly ignore that

[99redragons]

is this anything

#simon petrikov #fionna and cake #hes posed very awkwardly ignore that #i put him in this in my fic so i had to draw it #potm #99redragons art

[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.

#bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin smut #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #bts imagine

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

Summary | Cillian just got the role of Kitten in Breakfast on Pluto. His wife (you) likes the idea of seeing him in a dress. He obliges...

Warnings | Smut, Pegging, Power play, Masturbation, Anal.

Uh Huh- Julia Michaels 🎶

Narc- Interpol🎵

word count: 2381k

not proof read- my bad

Minors do not interact!

.................................................

“Jesus Christ,” Cillian jumped up from his side of the bed, holding his flip-phone to his ear, “really?” He asked the person on the other end. His bright blue eyes lit up with childish energy as he listened. 

She rolled over on her side to watch him. His boxer shorts rode up on his pale thighs and his white undershirt caught on the dip of his waist, showing his small, equally pale, stomach. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and propped herself up on her right elbow. He looked down on her with a wide crooked grin. 

“Great, t’at’s really great. T’ank you for the call.” He spoke into the phone before snapping it shut. He tossed the phone to the foot of the bed and crawled over to where she was nestled. 

“What was t’at?” she asked sleepily but smiling at his excitement. 

“she just landed anot’er part, love.” He lowered himself to her level and kissed her brow quickly. 

“Really? Which one?” she gasped and wiggled under his arms. 

“Breakfast on Pluto.” He laid beside her and mirrored her pose. 

“What’s t’at one about again?” She asked. 

“It's about an Irish orphan who realizes t’at he isn’t a boy and pursues a new sexual and gender identity. She runs away from home so t’at she can find her birth mam who lives in London. She goes on all t’ese adventures to find her too. It seems really interesting, you know?” He smiled up at the ceiling. 

“So you’d be the orphan?” She clarified. 

“Kitten, yeah. It's an Irish film too.” He turned back to her and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. 

“So you’ll dress as a girl t’en?” She smirked. 

“Mmhmm. You’ll have to help me wit’ it.” Cillian released her hair and ran his fingers seductively down her chin, pulling her in closer to kiss her softly. Their lips were both chapped slightly from the cold morning, their skin catching against each other in a pleasant way. 

“Oh yeah?” She teased, letting him trail his hands down to her breasts, his thumb rubbed the bud of her breast in slow circles. He kissed down her neck, pulling at the skin with his teeth. 

“You’d be a pretty girl, Cillian.” she slid her fingers through his messy dark hair. 

“You t’ink so?” He smiled against her neck before licking the dip above her collarbone. She sighed loudly before responding. 

“Yeah.” She broke off his contact by sitting up against the headboard. 

“Where are you going?” He whined childishly. 

“We have some practicing to do, Kitten.” She tipped his chin up to kiss him and he accepted her lips greedily, trying to suck her in. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” She put a finger against his lips and slipped out of bed. He collapsed against her pillow with a frustrated sigh. 

“Now don’t look so disappointed, pet.” She stood in the doorway of their shared closet. “T'is practice should be fun, and I’ll admit, it's something t'at I’ve wanted to do for a while. T'is movie has given me t'e perfect excuse.” She backed up into the closet, watching as he raised his eyebrow, interested. 

“What are you getting at, love?” He called from the bed and she could tell from the sound of his voice that he was already hard and excited. 

She ignored him as she pulled off her pajamas and took one of Cillian’s suits from a hanger. Most of his suits were rented but this one, he owned, was from their wedding. She buttoned up a dress shirt and pulled on the slacks which fit around the waist but were too long. She put on the suit jacket and nearly laughed at herself in the mirror when she turned around to face the door. The suit fit her very awkwardly, being made especially for Cillian’s long and slender frame. She took one of her dresses from a hook and draped it around her arm. 

“Close your eyes, darling.” She called through the door and waited as she heard him shuffle around on the bed, preparing himself for whatever she had in mind. Slowly, she opened the door to the closet and stepped out. The cool blue light of morning was slipping through the shutters connected to the wide windows in their bedroom. Cillian was lying flat on his back with his hands resting across his eyes. She went up to the edge of the bed and cleared her throat. 

“Now open them.” She whispered in a dark, raspy impersonation of his own voice. He uncovered his eyes and sat up, his mouth dropped open like a child. 

“What’s t’is t’en?” He managed, breathless. 

She didn’t respond, climbing on top of his lap. He held her hips instinctively and looked up at her with his doll-like eyes. 

“Now I know t’is isn’t exactly like t’e script but I want to see you in a dress, Cillian. I want to take you like a man.” she whispered against his lips and smiled as she felt his bulge harden beneath her crotch.

“Ok.” He nodded weakly, losing his words already. 

“Now…” she whispered in his ear, “take off your clothes.” she got off his lap, holding the dress. He scrambled, trying to get his clothes off quickly. When he was naked she handed him the dress. He ran his thumb over the material and smiled. 

“Kinky.” He teased in a low voice before putting the dress on excitedly. His shoulders were too broad so the dress couldn’t be zipped up all the way but he looked good nonetheless. 

“You’re so hot,” she pushed him back on the bed and gripped his chin. “So beautiful.” she praised him and he whimpered pitifully beneath her. “I’m going to call you ‘Kitten,’ ok?” she asked and he nodded. 

“What should I call you?” He smirked, his arms propping himself up. she hummed, thinking, and crawled back onto his lap. She could feel his erection through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“Mm, you can call me ‘sir.’” Her long hair fell around them like stage curtains as she kissed him. 

“Yes, sir.” He whispered in his feminine voice. She moaned at the sound and licked his lips. He scooted back towards the headboard and she followed him on her knees, still kissing him.  

She wound her fingers in his dark hair and pulled his head to the side so she could kiss his neck, leaving tiny hickies down the side of his neck to his collarbones. She pushed him back against the mattress and slipped her fingers beneath the neckline of his dress. He panted wantonly as she pulled one of the straps off and licked his exposed nipple. 

“You’re so good, Kitten.” she cooed, dragging her tongue back up his neck. 

“Fuck…” He sighed, his hands finding her thighs and holding them. He thrusted up into her, their clothes creating friction against them. 

“No, Kitten.” She pressed a hand against his chest and pushed herself up. “You don’t get to do that. I’m in charge now.” She pushed her index finger through his lips. “Suck, Kitten.” She ordered softly and watched as he obeyed, sucking deeply on her fingers as if it were a different appendage. 

“Good, girl.” She praised and smiled. He wrapped his tongue around her finger, quivering from the growing need as his cock pressed against her. “You want me don’t you?” she asked him. He nodded pitifully. 

“Mhmm.” He hummed around her finger and she patted his face lovingly. She removed her finger slowly from his lips and sucked on it herself, tasting the sweet slickness of his saliva. 

“You’re going to make me feel so good, love.” 

“Please… sir.” He tried out the word and flushed at the pleasure it gave him. 

“Please what?” She removed her finger and let it drip saliva down onto his stomach, making wet spots in the fabric. 

“Fuck me.” He gasped out finally and she acted immediately, shoving a hand beneath his skirt and taking his cock in her hand. He was dripping and sticky with pre-cum. 

“You’re so wet for me, Kitten. Good girl.” She rubbed him up and down, twisting her palms around him and smiling when he gasped pitifully beneath her. She leaned down and licked his other nipple through the dress, circling her tongue around the small bud. He gasped softly against her hair, his hands still tight around her thighs. 

“Oh, God- fuck.” He gasped and whined as she fisted him faster. She could tell he was close to finishing by the desperate mews he made against her. She removed her hand abruptly and he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. 

“Turn over, Kitten.” She ordered. 

“What?” Cillian groaned, his pupils shot with pleasure. 

“Turn over onto your stomach, love.” She said again, not unkindly. He shivered beneath her and rolled over as she stood up on her knees to give him room. When he was settled she reached over into her bedside table and retrieved a large toy. Cillian’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath her. 

“Is this ok?” She asked and he nodded frantically. 

“Yeah, yeah, yes. Do it.” He wiggled and she laughed. 

“Lie there for a second. Be a good girl for me.” She whispered in his ear. She removed her suit jacket and unbuttoned some of the dress shirt, still covering her breasts. She kicked off the baggy trousers and attached the strap-on around her waist. She reached down below her legs and lathered the dildo with her own wetness and rested the toy against Cillian’s thigh. She reached over again and took out a bottle of lube, slicking the toy with the substance. She tossed the lube to the side and pulled up his skirt, showing his pale ass. 

“I’m going to fuck you, love.” She told him and spread his cheeks, showing his tight asshole and sliding some lube across the space. 

“Yes, please.” He whined. 

She rested the tip of the toy against him and pushed in slightly. He groaned and gripped the sheets at the top of the bed. 

“Good girl.” She soothed, pushing in a little farther. He gasped when she put the toy halfway in, her hands firmly planted on either side of his hips. “You’re tight, love, but you can take it, can’t you?” she pouted, taunting him as he shivered below her. 

“Yes, sir.” He arched his back, pushing his ass against the toy desperately. 

“I’m gonna go all t’e way in.” she warned him and gripped his hips tightly. When he nodded, she thrusted in all the way, eliciting a loud gasp followed by a moan from Cillian’s muffled mouth. she pulled out slightly and pushed in again with more force. As he stretched around her, she moved in and out with more ease, slamming her hips against him. He panted and gasped, his hands gripping the headboard and his arm muscles tensed. 

“Fucking hell.” He moaned and she sped up, grabbing the base of his neck as she rode him. 

“Are you going to cum for me, Kitten?” she asked loudly over the moans. 

“Yes… fuck… yeah I will.” He gave up his character voice and moaned. 

“T'at’s right.” She watched as the toy went in and out, the hole sucking the toy in as soon as it left. She pounded his G-spot and he gasped breathlessly. 

“I’m cumming!” He gasped. 

“Good girl.” She hummed and thrusted him one last time. She removed the toy slowly, trying to cause the least pain as it left him sore and stretched out. “You were so good for me, love.” she kissed up his back, licking the beads of sweat off of his skin. 

“T’at was amazing.” He whispered softly as she turned him over to face her again. As he did, she chuckled, seeing his cock lying flat against his stomach, cum splattered across his smooth chest. she licked his chest, cleaned him off, and kissed him. He gripped her face, kissing her deeply and sat up. “Fucking hell. Why haven’t we done t’at before?” He asked between kisses. 

“I didn’t t’ink you’d want to.” She laughed as he kissed down her collar needily. His hand unstrapped the dildo and tossed it to the side. His rough hands found her crotch and grabbed it. She gasped into his mouth. 

“You looked so fucking hot in my suit.” He murmured darkly and she nodded, switching into submissive. He ran his fingers against her labia and smiled. 

“T’at must’ve been torture, love.” He cooed against her, rubbing harder as she gasped. “Look at how wet you are.” He raised an eyebrow. she couldn’t respond, her mouth held open in a silent moan. 

“Mmm. Now it’s my turn to have my way wi’h you.” He smiled and pushed his thumb harshly against her clit. she choked back a gasp. 

“Fuck!” she managed as he rubbed her hard. 

“It's gonna be so easy for you to cum now, won’t it?” He whispered against her neck, the collar of his dress shirt separating his lips from her skin. 

“Yeah…” she nodded weakly. 

“Fuck yourself against her fingers, love.” He whispered, smiling at me. He pushed two of his large fingers inside her and she rode them, shaking her hips against his hand and moaning loudly. He rubbed her clit with his thumb and smiled as he watched her. she wrapped her arms around his neck and gasped against his ear, her hot breath scalding his temple. The orgasm hit hard and fast and her cunt spasmed around his fingers, spilling cum around his hand. she fell against her and he cradled her, rocking them back and forth. 

He wrapped his arms around her and spun them around so that she was on the bed below him. her face was flushed and she stared dumbly up at him. 

“We can do t'is anytime you like, love. But…” He trailed a finger down her temple, “as much as I enjoyed myself, at t'e end of t'e day it’s your cunt t'at I want to fuck, not t'e other way around.” He purred. 

“Do you t'ink you’re ready for the role?” she teased breathlessly and he smiled. 

“Not even close. I’ll need more practice, darling.” 

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #young!cillian x reader #submissive!cillian #smut #cillian x y/n #breakfast on pluto #saint kitten

[f1-stuff]

sex 👁️👄👁️ competition 👁️👄👁️

Pls tell us more

Ask and you shall receive 🫡 Have the first 700 words... -> WIP game

Really, it’s all Alex’s fault.

It starts because of a question he poses during the drivers' parade in Spain, a group of them waiting to be interviewed as the float makes its slow procession around the circuit. 

They’re in the middle of a conversation about how Pierre and Esteban can’t seem to get along lately, their competitiveness reaching new volatile heights, when Alex says, “Do you reckon they fight over who’s better in bed?”

“Probably,” Logan snickers beside him.

“They’ve definitely argued over who’s got a bigger dick,” Lando adds.

For some reason, everyone looks at Charles.

“What? You think I know?”

“You’re friends with them,” Alex says, then adds, “Kind of.” Because he knows stuff with Esteban is complicated.

“Did they ever fight over the same girl?” Lando asks, nudging him. “Like, when you were kids?”

“I don’t know!” Charles insists, huffing.

“My guess is Pierre. For better in bed, I mean.” And then, they all hum, like they’re in agreement. 

Charles rolls his eyes, glancing around for Pierre as if the conversation will manifest him. He’s still at the other end of the float, waiting for Esteban to finish his interview in front of him. Charles smirks, betting he’s pissed off even about that.

“Okay, who’s better in bed: Max or Checo?”

“Max,” Oscar and Logan say in unison, then fist bump each other.

“I am saying Checo,” Charles speaks up, feeling bad for the guy. “This conversation is very stupid.”

“No, no, you could be right,” Lando chips in. “Max is really impatient, but Checo could have the whole passionate Latin lover thing going on.”

“That’s racist. I think.”

“Shut up.”

“Magnussen or Hulkenberg?” Alex chips in.

“Well, K Mag has one more kid than Hulk,” Logan says, as if this is evidence to be weighed.

“Does that mean he’s better or worse?” Lando mutters, smirking.

“Lewis or George?” 

“Lewis, are you kidding? Have you seen the chicks he’s gone out with?”

“Point.”

“Charles,” Alex says, getting his attention, a devilish smirk on his face. “You or Carlos?”

Charles laughs awkwardly, shaking his head. “Mate, come on.”

“What? Look at him, he’s blushing.”

“I am not.”

“I reckon it’s Carlos-” Lando starts, then gets shoved for it.

“Yeah, you would say that,” Oscar teases. “He’s, like- your hero.” 

Then, while Lando sputters about how, ‘I meant ‘cause he’s older,’ Alex says, “Carlos had the same girlfriend for like six years. I doubt he’s actually that good, ya know? Reckon he’s probably got complacent.”

“Oh, big word. Have you gotten ‘complacent,’ Alex?” Logan asks, nudging him. Alex gives a good-natured eye roll.

“‘Kay, fine. That’s probably fair...”

Someone sweeps up behind Charles, and he can immediately identify who it is from the duel hands that squeeze the side of his neck and his bicep, along with the scent of a familiar cologne. (Charles doesn’t really want to examine the fact that he can recognize his teammate by his cologne...)

“What are we laughing about?” Carlos asks, crowding up against Charles, who makes space for him in their circle.

“Who’s better than their teammate in bed,” Lando offers, reaching out to clasp hands with Carlos in greeting. “We were just debating you or Charles.”

Carlos makes an inquisitive noise, his gaze sliding to Charles, who gazes back stubbornly.

“Obviously, I am better-” Carlos starts, overly cocky, inspiring Charles to huff in indignation.

“This is obvious?”

“Well, I-”

“‘I,’” Charles interjects. “The only obvious thing is that, of course, you would think you are better. Just like I will think I am the best. We are not good judges.”

“Okay, then what do you suggest, my friend?” Carlos asks, a competitive arch to his brow that’s accompanied by an amused tilt to his lips. “Who should be the judge?”

“Oh, God,” Alex groans, laughing at them. “We shouldn’t have talked about it with them both here. Now, they’re gonna argue about it.”

“Charles,” Carlos says, ignoring the others. “What do you suggest?”

Charles feels overly warm all of a sudden, rubbing his clammy palms against his jeans, as Carlos regards him with all of his single-minded focus.

“A competition,” he says. Before he can stop himself.

#suffice to say that this quickly becomes homoerotic lmao #WIP tag game #rpf #charlos #anon #ask #sex competition AU

[subskz]

I will have to send two asks in short succession here causeeeeeeee the seungmin babygirl look (the thigh high fuzzy socks and mary janes) and the innie collar are going to take me out.

Let's start with seungmin because I can :)

Like the day the photos come out you praise him as you normally do when new teasers and stuff happen and he suspects nothing. HOWEVER. Like a week later you're waiting for him and there's a suspicious package waiting on the table that you tell him to open. He does and oh? Some very pretty thigh high socks? And a little pair of silky shorts? Hmmmmm what could the inspiration for these be 😋. You tell him to put them on, since you couldn't be there for the original photos so you want your little homemade version hehe. You meant it too, because you get right to ordering him around to pose in different angles and positions. Seungmin gets a little frustrated but doesn't show it, cause he truly expected to be bent over in an instant but nooooooo. While he's posing he does start thinking about all the things he wants you to do to him, and the next pose you order him into 🤭 you can see just how hard he is in those shorts. You're almost done the photoshoot anyways, but push it a little farther to see if Seungmin says anything. He doesn't, but he gets about 8 million times more restless. Eventually he can barely sit still which is just the PERFECT teasing opportunity. So you start poking in and Seungmin ignores and brushes it off as he usually does. But! It doesn't take long before he finally snaps "I want you to bend me over and fuck me, but apparently all you want is pictures!" AHAHAHAHA. 🤌 who knew this was all it took to break him. So you walk so so slowly towards him and grin and Seungmin is just like. Ah fuck, what have I done now

So much build up and for what? Why am I like this? He messes with my brain in a heinous way istg 🫥. Thank you to everyone who reads this, do not perceive me -🦊

the way u and 🐾 anon sent ur asks not even 5 minutes apart 😭 seungmo really had us all in his babydoll clutches w that fit

what a perfectly seungminnie scenario hehe it really does make for a great way to tease him bc of course he loves his pictures!! who is he to deny you snapping a million photos of him from every angle imaginable and fawning over how pretty your boy is. it’d be extra fun to pause after each new shot and make a big fuss of showing it to him so he can see how good he looks, both as a way to gradually fluster him more and more w all your compliments, and to chip away at his patience. even when he starts to get antsy, he tries his best hide it bc he can definitely sense some kind of trap being set up by you

ordering him to take poses where he can’t hide how worked up he’s made himself is soo evil i love it >:) you tell him to lean back a lil and spread his legs for you, and he just presses his lips together and awkwardly lets his arm rest between his thighs in a pointless attempt to hide his bulge…and when u still act oblivious it just makes his tension skyrocket bc even someone as disciplined as seungmo has his limits! can you imagine if you leaned in close to him and his breath kinda catches in his throat bc he thinks you’re finally gonna give him what he needs, only for you to mess w the frayed edges of his shorts and “adjust” them for the camera. he’d be a little mortified by how visibly he jolts when your fingers brush over his thighs, but that’s definitely the breaking point for him 💔 smth abt how pouty he sounds when he finally loses his patience makes all that tortuous buildup worth it

#also im not sure if u sent ur innie ask but if so i dont think i got it! #ask #🦊 anon #💌 seungmo

[inchidentally]

It’s giving engineering student Oscar on the first day of his Motorsport internship!!!!!

(BFBFFBFBFB he's lucky he's so gd beautiful bc he rly said 'let me find the most boring backdrop I possibly ca--ooh is tha empty tarmac? perfect')

dj!escort!Lando is booked at MTC for a gig to unveil their new car and decides to scroll their socials while flying back from Vietnam w Martin. first he sees Oscar posing stiffly in the new odd shirtdress race suit and decides why not zoom in on it. who he at first thought was just some kid turns out to have a beautiful slim waist and mile long legs under the suit. pretty little hands too. oh and the face... is very good. defined jaw and cheekbones, cute nose, pretty brown eyes. the kind of soft hair you want to run your fingers through after sex. the mouth is more intriguing than he'd first thought. pretty pink lips and sort of pouty. would probably turn hot pink after being kissed for an hour. maybe even a blood red after blowing Lando in the-- damn. Lando has to adjust himself and close out the photos.

so maybe he spends the rest of the plane ride ignoring the rest of the guys by going to this Oscar Piastri's accounts. gets absolutely stuck on a picture he'd posted that day with a middle aged emoji and terrible photo composition. but god if the pretty face and mussed soft hair doesn't more than make up for it. he looks like he's had nothing but vanilla sex, safe amounts of alcohol and the only excitement in his life is driving F1 cars. which to be fair looks fucking amazing.

but Oscar deserves to get wild sometimes. deserves to get absolutely wrecked. because from what Lando can tell, the guy almost never takes time off unless its to visit his family Australia. if he's not racing then he's in the simulator or he's in meetings or training. and god, the body he has under those team issued clothes. lean and strong in the arms and legs and waist but surprisingly thick and curvy in the ass and pecs. Lando can picture all that pale skin stretched out on his hotel bed, turning pink wherever Lando's big tan hands grope him. how embarrassed he'd get when Lando squeezes an entire pec in his hands and draws a nipple into his mouth. the cute way he'd flush up and probably throw a hand over his eyes when Lando slung each of the boy's knees over his shoulders and gave him a perineum beard burn he'd feel for days.

Lando startles when one of the road crew knocks over an entire bottle of champagne. by the time he looks back at the awkwardly smiling photo of Oscar out in wherever the hell he was, doing testing or whatever, Lando feels almost ashamed about what he has planned for this nerdy kid who clearly has no idea how hot he is.

but when he finally meets Oscar in person and realizes the boy has at least three inches height on him - most of which seems to run in his legs - Lando gives him a sharktooth grin, a thorough once over that has the boy blushing pink, and ignores everything the weird American dude is saying to him.

#inchreplies #momsforfishsticks #lola alert #my fic #(It's not fic obv but filing it there) #ohhhhhhh you made me do this !!! you can't just send me these things and not expect this !! #my writing

[siremasterlawrence]

Answer The Call To The Wild

Arab model Adnan Arik is the hottest import yet coming to Los Angeles since I moved their for my career and soon enough I finally met him by chance at one of my meetings with my agent.He is in the literally sitting down in a chair as he stars some down in disgust that I dare to show up and he sighs rolling his eyes when I sat down and I am use to it but this time I had enough.I bend a bit opening my cellphone proceed to tap a app with a spiral logo popping up on the screen and all go sudden he can’t stop staring it as the spiral continues in the middle of the screen. I notice he is staring unmoving leaving me a quick opening to ensnare him as I wave my hand in his face and he stays unemotional and frozen in time I glee with excitement in one click. The camera comes on flashing in his face blaring brightly his face catches him and a message is sent to my agent who automatically uploads in to his mind and he knows what to do. My agent comes from the room calling Tarik to join him as follows him in mindlessly and pats his back before he is turning to me. I flip another app to the side as it opens up a small screen showing what’s going on in the camera I install in the office and Tarik takes a seat. He silently stares into the walls as my agent opens his laptop typing a code and his whole conscious comes to life as he awkwardly awakens thinking he is way to normal. My agent beckons me in when I follow him stopping in back of him as I am placing my hand on his shoulder and I plant a kiss on his cheeks and embrace his cheek with mine.

Adnan Arik is not sure why but he has truly been staying at my place for nearly a week or so but he has gotten use to the idea as he smirks now and truthfully he is happier now than ever. He is awe of me at this very moment kneeling at me feet with a fucking sexy smile on his face and sitting inbetween my legs with utter splendor and frightening delight. He has fallen in love with me so he completely in shock when he notices a new man enters the chat and my agent so right behind him with his arms on his shoulder his name is Tali. Tali Marikash is pretty sexy guy not usually my type except he is handsome beyond what I imagine he could be and he hugs me tight with fake generosity is oddly obvious. I snap my figure as Adnan jumps up with a bright smile he reaches to grab his shoulders and shoving him down as they struggle and finally Adnan falls to the ground. Tali’s neck is held up facing me as he forced to look in the camera in a matter of seconds the flash goes of and the app starts spinning our control and his mind is recalibrating. “Master Lawrence is a God among men, someone I completely have lost my self too, I swoon at his Godly glorious and he is everything that to me my life.” Tali replies mindlessly with a short and bated breath as he goes my waist in his hands and kisses my hands letting my hypnotic words sink in forever because he is my property. “Sir Yes Master Lawrence I live for you the Maestro of this universe and the kingdom of the one who rules this planet that we live in even though you are not willing to admit it.

My acting agent Johnathan Jackson Majors Wells is at my apartment after bringing me my two bois are worshipping me to not end I might add and he leans in touching my chin kissing me. His arms lifting into the airs land on my waist wrapping it tightly as he is truly pulling me closer and matches my lips with his as we make out kissing. I brush him to the side as he drags, paws and scratches me doing his best to come even closer to me with love and we kiss again but I ignore him. I lose myself for a bit grabbing his own camera as I tell him to smile and pose for me as the camera flashing it in his face and he stops shaking in fear and reprogramming is going on. I instruct him to set on the lawn chair using my finger to move my finger all over and he follows me very obedient as I snap my fingers as he keeps over falling to the side. His back he fell back on to the lawn chair in to my arms as I kiss him on the neck and I rock him to side whispering him down into nothing. “Listen to me my pet Jackson because you know I am right as always I am always right simply because I will it to be and so therefore you do not question me.” He humbles himself drops into my arms yet again as he slips down further ito chair and he melts into my arms crumbling into my body and he falls permanently in love. “You are madly into me so in love with me Jonathan my dear.You know that right?”

“Take this liquor from my hand Jonathan it is for the best, that is take it from my hand right now and take a sip please. Place at your lips that’s to go be a tip on the lips and sip it taste every fiber of my being I poured in to it.” He placeshis lips on to the martini glass tipping it over as it goes down pouring it into his throat as it it doing it’s job. The taste radiates down his throat as it burns leaving a lasting impressive of my power because he has fully accepted it that he belong to me. “I am your main guy the star you worship, glorify, serve, obey and submit to him because he is your greatest power and asset in existence to you.” I continue to whisper this into his ears I begin to kiss cheeks slowly going down his neck once more touching every inch of his body as he squirms. “Sir Yes Master I owe you my life my Master Lawrence since I surrender toyou because you have lifted me into the air swooped me up into your arms since I am at your behest.” He says spin about stare into my eyes lovingly as he sides off of me hitting the floor with his feet and feeling my body up learning to worship every inch of my body. I am proud of my work picking up my hand mirror on my side showing him my work and he is lost in awe of my power at the sight of the fact he has been de-aged.

“Who are these two muscle bound apes”

“Who are you speaking to?”

“What the fuck?”

“Take a picture”

“Flash! Can you hear me?”

“Yyyyeeeessss”

“Yyyyeesss”

“Kneel now”

“In my eyes is the key “

“Stare away “

“Get lost in my life”

“Resist all else “

“I am your life force”

“What you breath “

“What you eat”

“What you crave”

“I am yours “

“You can’t deny it “

The end

#beach #beach hypnosis #hypnosis #mind control #reprogramming #hypno slave #hypno submission #mind control slaves #transformation #black owned #ownership #cellphones

[holly-opal]

Prompt: Mr Puzzles is recovering and in recovery being helped by a reader who constantly feels the need to help people if they can

Mr. Puzzles groaned in pain, his voice was very glitchy, he held gripped the sheets tightly as you began to stitch his wound shut. You shushed him and patted him on the shoulder, you gave him a small smile while he was glaring at you. You had found him near the dumpster on your evening stroll, apparently some "meme obsessed loser hit him with a meat mallet".... What ever that means. It didn't matter right now, you can ask questions later, right now you needed to fix him up. It was extremely difficult with how shaky he was, you kept having to forcefully out him down after he kept arching his back and kept moving around. He was letting out small whimpers and was whining.

"Ugh! Is it over yet??"

"Almost."

"Aaaaaaugggh!! Make it stoooop!!"

You were surprisingly calm about this, well, surprising to him. You stitched up many people before. You always liked helping those in need, even if you had to make sacrifices. You and other people have been through a lot. The T-pose apocalypse, the near ending of the universe, Mario's shenanigans, you've been through it all. Alot of people recommended that you get therapy, but naaaah. You didn't need therapy! You're perfectly fine! Anyways, you were done stitching him up and he throws up in a bucket you laid out for him, the vomit looked very static-ish. Mr. Puzzles sighed in relief. Although he was still in excruciating pain. You tuck him into bed and put your teddy bear next to him, you went downstairs to get some soup for your new guest. Mr. Puzzles hummed and thought about his embarrassing defeat. He groaned in frustration and moved, his wound hurt like the seven rings of hell, and he yelped in pain.

You came back with a bowl of soup, you handed it to Mr. Puzzles and he happily took it, he was hungry as shit. You sat down on the bed and watched him eat, he looked like a nice guy, he seemed to be doing fine despite his injuries, and he was hot too.......hold up. Are you seriously attracted to a man with a TV for a head? No no! You were just helping him, that's all! Yeah, just helping. Mr. Puzzles noticed that you were staring at him, he grinned and put down his soup. "Oh? What's the matter? Are you mesmerized by my beauty, little one?" He asked, raising his brow at you. You blushed and laughed nervously, you got up and began to clean up the clothes on your floor. "Sorry about the mess, I was really expecting company, let alone an injured person." You said awkwardly, ignoring his question. He hummed and continued to eat his food, it was kind of spicy, but he didn't mind. Once he ate all of the meat and veggies in the soup, he drank the whole thing in one go. You were very impressed and clapped, you had never seen someone drink soup that fast! But he had leftover soup on his face now. You fetched a rag and went over to him, you wiped his face and got rid of the stains, he blushed a little and he looked away. He started to get a bit sleepy and yawned.

"When am I allowed to leave?" Mr. Puzzles asked you.

"Once your wounds are healed enough. You can sleep on my bed from now on, I'll sleep on the couch- AHHH!!" You yelled as he grabbed you wrist and pulled you into bed, he held you like a little doll and started snoring. Shit. You were stuck now. Well, I guess you didn't really mind. He felt very warm, and you were tired as well. This is totally platonic. Yep. Totally.

[kaneaken]

Hi hi! Congrats on 35+ followers! Wishing you many more followers in the future ❤️❤️❤️For your event would you be willing to write when reader drops something like a pen or something similar in high school au and Kazuha, Albedo, and Xiao’s reactions? Thanks 😊

DROPPING SOMETHING NEAR THEM (ft. xiao, albedo, kazuha)

author's note; hello, thanks for being my first request of the event :D sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted. i didn't want to make the headcannons too short, so i added a bit more to them :) hope you enjoy <3

content notes; gender neutral reader (pronouns aren't used), possible ooc characters, set in high school au, short headcannons, character and reader aren't in a relationship, character is crushing <3

ALBEDO ♡

probably didn't even notice you dropped something

too invested in his book or sketch

if you dropped something heavy like multiple books, he might hear the crash and look up

didn't help because he wanted to sketch you for a pose reference

probably approaches you once you've picked up whatever you've dropped

asked you to be his model for his upcoming art project with a very straight face

kinda freaked you out, but you agreed nonetheless

smiles to himself after you leave because he could finally have more time with you <3

KAZUHA ♡

the only one that helps you out once he hears your things fall, no matter how much of a racket you make

he smiles so nicely when he hands you back your things

ends up coming with you to wherever you were heading

if you were heading to eat, you end up hanging out for a while

if you were heading to your next class, he'll smile at you once more once he drops you off at your class before heading to his own class

when tomo questions his brighter smile (he's basically squinting looking at kazuha), kazuha just chuckles and says 'it's quite the joyous day today'

XIAO ♡

ignores what happens because he wasn't even looking in your direction

outta sight, outta mind

like albedo, if he was probably doing something else, he wouldn't notice if you dropped something small

if you made a thud, his eye might twitch due to the loud noise and ends up turning to the source (which was you)

silently tosses whatever you dropped back at you then turns back to whatever he was doing

you walked away, awkwardly, after thanking him

as he watched you turn the corner, he silently scolds himself for not taking the opportunity to make small talk or something with you :(

EVENT REQUESTS : OPEN

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha x y/n #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin albedo #albedo #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #albedo x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao x you #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #nene.writes

[jaeminri]

snap! i'm in love

014 | i need to feed my cog (1.3k words)

jungwon vividly recalls the last time he was this nervous, was when he was 8. he had to go up onto stage and give a speech on dolphins and why the world should protect them. his palms were disgustingly wet, limbs trembling in fear and heart beating harshly. he had told his mother that he couldn't do it, that it'd be better if he acted sick and went home, but she insisted that he would be okay — and he was at the end.

but right now, as he stands in front of your apartment door, knuckles tightly hanging against it, he realises he's alone. no one is going to assure him that he'll be fine (riki did actually, but it was more of a mock so it made jungwon much more nervous).

before his knuckles can make contact with your door, it opens and you appear. you're shocked to see him standing there stiffly, but the tense expression he has on makes you stifle a giggle.

“jungwon? why are you just standing here? why didn't you knock?“ your eyes drift to his floating hand, laughing harder after, “or i guess you were about to. come on in.”

jungwon gulps, nodding as he follows in after and closes the door behind him. your apartment is simple and cozy. a couch and tv on his left, the kitchen just right in front, and on the right are what he assumes are bedrooms. picture frames are hung up along the walls in the living room, he can't help but go forward and just take a closer look. you're already in the kitchen, so he tries to be quiet about it.

“you don't have to be so cautious,” you pop from the kitchen, making him jump as he turns to you. you're standing at the counter, holding 2 cups of water. jungwon grins awkwardly, rubbing his arms as he takes a last glance at a photo of you and your family, then goes to you to accept the cup of water you hand him.

“make yourself at home, jungwon. my parents are out for work. my sister, well, she won't be back so soon.” you say with a kind smile, to which he nods at stiffly. he ignores the way his insides twist.

“okay. thank you.”

you only shrug, beaming as you place down your cup, “well then, shall we get to work?”

the shoot goes by well. you're well prepared, jungwon realises. very professional, in a sense that you already know what you want and how you want him to be like throughout the shoot. you've gotten ready some clothes for him (which he assumes is riki's 'cause it's a little big on him), you style his hair for him (which had him almost crumbling to the ground) and you also do his make up (which also almost had him get swallowed up by the floor).

he was extremely tense, and you seemed to notice that because each time you told him to just pose naturally, it didn't seem...natural. you refrained from touching him, out of fear that you might tense him up more, so instead you complimented him as often as you could whenever he did well. it worked, you think, because he started to get the hang of it and began posing himself.

in no time, morning passes by, and you're done with the shoot. you tell him he can chill about for a little, then maybe you can both have lunch together. he agrees in a beat.

“hey, do you mind if i look at the photos?” jungwon asks when you disappear off to the kitchen. you shout a yes from outside, so he picks up the camera

and clicks through. he walks out to find you, leaning against the counter as he looks at the photos.

“wow, they turned out so well.” he compliments. you laugh in return, murmuring a ’thank you’ as your neck flushes red. he scrolls into pictures of other people, some of riki, some of whom he assumes is minji and danielle? it's mostly your close friends, so even though it's a small thing, his heart does a small flip at the fact that he's now one of the those people that can be part of your photographs.

he clicks next, then a photograph of riki pops up. he's in sunglasses and a silver jacket, which jungwon thinks he's seen before on your twitter. he scrolls continuously, only finding that riki is constantly appearing. before he can stop himself, he says, “you take a lot of photos of riki.”

you don't seem affected, proceeding to pour oil into a pot. “yeah, i mean he's my first model. in a sense,” you respond with a shrug, “you eat fried rice, right?”

jungwon nods, dimples on show. it makes you smile.

“oh, i see. you don't take candids?”

“not much. it's a little personal, so i don't do it often.”

“personal?” jungwon quips curiously.

you hum, nodding as you turn to him over your shoulder, “intimate, maybe. it's not really my style.”

“oh,” is all he says back. so he continues to scroll, some more photos of your friends pop up. until one photo stops his motions. then helplessly, he continues to click next, next, next and next again, but it's just all the same.

pictures of riki. to be specific, some of him laughing, some of him studying, some simply of his back as he walks along the streets or looks at the sunset, some of him just doing things in his daily life.

they're all candid photos.

jungwon can't seem to move as he gazes down at the pictures in your camera. he doesn't even process when you ask him what else he's looking at as you peek over and see the photos displayed out.

“oh, those...” he seems to make out your quiet tone as you speak, so he turns to look at you. he can't help the sink in his heart at the sight of your red cheeks as you look everywhere but at him. again, he doesn't even realise he blurts out words that he shouldn't be saying.

“you like riki?”

your eyes widen, shocked at how forward jungwon is. then you laugh awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably in your spot before turning back to the stove. you're avoiding his question, so he clamps his lips together and turns off the camera. he thinks if he looks at it any longer, the heavy weight in his stomach will grow.

“yeah,” you utter out softly after a few minutes, “i like riki.”

well, i guess turning off the camera doesn't do much, jungwon laughs internally (a painful laugh, if you must).

he isn't sure what to say, because it's great! riki's a good guy. he's sweet and caring, tall and good looking, maybe not so smart but he's hardworking for what he enjoys. he's also jungwon's best friend, and if anything, jungwon should be helping you — setting you up with riki.

but for some damn odd reason, jungwon hates that idea. he hates that he should be helping you score a date with riki. he hates that he should be encouraging you to shoot your shot for riki. he hates that there shouldn't be a reason why you shouldn't like riki. but most importantly, he hates that the riki is the one you like, and not...him.

oh my god.

jungwon shoots up from his seat as it scratches against the floor with a loud creak, startling you. he gasps, palm attached to his lips as he lets the realisation sink in.

he's jealous.

did he just admit he likes you?

you panic, “a-are you okay, jungwon? are you feeling sick?”

with no hesitation, he snaps his head toward you and he huffs, “um, i-i need to get home! i just realised i haven't fed my uh, cog!”

did he just combine cat and dog together? he's going insane, jesus christ.

your head tilts, brows raised, “cog?”

“i-i meant dog! yeah! you know, maeumi!” he chuckles stiffly. he doesn't wait for your response, only reaches for his bag on the chair beside him and dashes out the door, tripping on the way. he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, stove still turned on as you stare at the door in confusion.

when he's out of your apartment, jungwon drops to the ground on your porch, and he lowers his head.

he is so fucking screwed.

synopsis. when student council president, yang jungwon, realises he's in need of a new photographer to take yearbook pictures, nishimura riki brings up you, someone whom he claims has a good background of taking amazing pictures for people outside school. with no choice, he takes up the offer, and works with you. and through every photograph you take, jungwon finds himself slowly falling in love with you. then one day, he chances upon photographs you take of riki, and he sees it — your true feelings.

pairing. yang jungwon x f!reader

genre. fluff, angst, crack, smau, high school!au, strangers-to-lovers, pining, nwjns hanni as the face of yn

warnings. profanities, kys jokes, vulgar jokes

taglist. open (send in an ask!)

status. ongoing

notes. as promised :) WE'RE BACK 😊😊😊😊

#enhypen #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x you #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x y/n #jungwon x you #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n #enhypen smau #jungwon smau #yang jungwon smau

[naquey]

You're Cordially Invited to Sigewinne's tea party!

Summary: Sigewinne invites the traveler and Paimon to Meropide for a tea party after all is said and done in Fontaine. She's the one who invited them, no one else. The tea party is just for Sigewinne. Yeah.

P.S. My friend gave me this idea

Aether didn't know what to expect when he got an invite with dainty, curly cursive writing sprinkled with various colors. Paimon was surprised Sigewinne knew how to write, mainly because she didn't know much about melusines.

What they weren't expecting was to bear witness to Charlotte chasing Wriothesley around the table in the middle of the room. This scene almost reminded them of the last lantern right with Zhongli, Venti, Xiao, and others. It was quite a sight to see the Duke of Meropide particularly terrified, running away from a Steambird reporter. She was terrifying in her own way, but not at this moment.

"I just want to take a picture! This would make a great cover story!"

"I've already told you I'm not taking a picture!"

Aether hid their laughter behind their hand, while Paimon made no attempt to hide her giggling. Sigewinne lit up once she noticed them, bouncing to the two happily, holding a golden tiara for the Outlander.

"Traveler, I got you a tiara to match!" Sigewinne giggled, motioning for them to bend down. "Let me bequeath you as the prince of tea parties."

Aether bent down with a small smile, ducking their head so the blue-haired girl could reach. She situated the tiara atop Aether's head, a big smile on her face.

"Now, you're fit to sit at the table with the kings and queens."

Neuvillette and Navia were already seated at the table, trying to ignore Wriothesley running away from Charlotte. In the letter, Sigewinne said that Chlorinde would also be attending. Paimon figured this would be an excellent time to get to know her; they didn't have enough free time to chat when they met her. Only she was missing from the table. Wriothesley accidentally tripped and bumped into Aether, unaware they were even there. In the blink of an eye, the Duke of Meropide was rigid, arms at his sides, standing at attention. There was a faint blue light surrounding him, almost like water. Navia giggled and grabbed Chlorinde's hand, pulling her from her hiding spot.

Charlotte skidded to a halt and got the perfect picture she needed. Granted, Wriothesley was wearing a silver tiara that Sigewinne had warned him to never take off, prompting his sour look. Chlorinde wasn't wearing her hat, and as the prized dueler of Fontaine, she had an image to uphold. Only that image was now her with a sapphire tiara to match her uniform. Standing next to Wriothesley with a frown on her face, although she never smiled much.

"Now, that, that is over. Please, use your manners and say hello to the traveler and Paimon." Nevuillette shook his head. It wasn't unusual to see him wearing a tiara made of seashells.

"Oh, I didn't see you two come in. Sorry about that." Wriothesley reached up to take off his tiara but then met the very intimidating glare the nurse of Meropide was giving him.

"It's okay! We know you were busy with your Steambird interview, its okay!"

"Traveler! Paimon! Can I get a picture of you two?" Charlotte's eyes sparkled. "This won't go in the Steambird, I promise." She chuckled awkwardly, taking a step away from Wriothesley.

"Of course!" Paimon chirped. Already striking a pose with a silly face.

Chlorinde didn't say hello, but they knew she had acknowledged them with a look and a nod. She wasn't much of a talker either. At least not in public. Navia has many stories about Chlorinde talking for hours in private.

As they all finally sat together at the table, Neuvillette muttered something that made Wriothesley push his chair back, the wood screaming in agony, making everyone jolt and look up. He excused himself with a tight smile, eyes glued to the Iudex, something hidden behind them. Annoyance? He returned with a rough-looking box; most of its labeling had been weathered away, and a new label replaced the old one. A new teapot was on the table, sitting next to the one with hot water already in it. Navia jumped when Chlorinde put a rather large spoon on her, Nevuillette, and Paimon's placemats. Of course, Paimon liked the larger spoon. Just the mere sight of it made Aether's skin crawl.

Navia knew what she said but accepted her fate nonetheless.

Once the room settled again and tea was poured, that's when the kicking started. At first, Aether didn't notice because Navia kicked Chlorinde under the table, and Sigewinne kicked Wriothesley. Then Aether got kicked, almost making them drop their tea cup in surprise.

"Oh, my archons, I am so sorry!" Navia gasped, waving her hands about. Chlorinde had a shit-eating grin, sitting next to her.

"Why is everyone in such a huff? It was just some photos."

#genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfiction #wriothesley #neuvillette #fanfiction #genshin #fontaine #sigewinne #navia #genshin navia #genshin wriothesley #genshin neuvillette #chlorinde #genshin chlorinde #the traveler #genshin traveler #paimon #aether #charlotte #genshin charlotte #wriolette #chlavia #yes navia/chlorinde is chlavia #deal with it #navia/chlorinde #wriothesley/neuvillette #fluff #tea party

[coffeeanddimlights]

Can you do head cannons for Millard pls (especially him with lily) ty

Millard Nullings HCs:

-Born in a wealthy family (around late 1920s Scotland) with a father who was an esteemed professor and surrounded by books. When he was young and his parents weren't around, he would cure his boredom by reading anything he could reach on the shelves.

-Millard started disappearing when he hit prepubescence, starting from his feet and slowly working up. Millard was shocked but intrigued by his condition, and knowing it wasn't normal, he distanced himself from his family and started to research in order to possibly find out why this was happening.

-He dug through nearly every book they had and found nothing. Feeling desperate, he combed though his father's study he was forbidden to enter, and ended up finding an old, dusty hidden book in his desk. It was called The Tales of the Peculiar.

-After he disappeared so much it was impossible to hide, he gave in and showed his parents what had happened. His mother fainted immediately, but his father knew his son was peculiar as his grandfather had had the same condition. His father simply told him to find an ymbryne, and then promptly kicked him out in fear of his son ruining his reputation.

-Millard lived on the streets for a while, having to steal and sneak around in order to live. He became a good thief after that, which culminated in the day he decided to pickpocket an English lady's pocket watch to hopefully attempt to sell it. The woman caught him despite being invisible, and dragged him to a private area with no one around. She explained that she was an ymbryne, and that he was peculiar. He'd lived with Miss Peregrine ever since.

-He needs glasses badly but he refuses to wear them because it will "give him away"

-Definitely took Lilly out on a date post TDoDA. They went to a cafe library, had some coffee and cuddled on a couch with a good book. Sure, it looked a little weird to anyone who saw a girl perched up awkwardly on a couch with two coffees and a book in braille spread out, but they ignored the stares and had a good time.

-Lilly and Millard go on a lot of double dates, mostly because they can't really date just themselves in public without Lilly getting odd looks. Their friends understand and let them tag along a lot, especially Noor and Jacob who they hang out with a lot.

-Millard writes Lilly love poems and letters in braille. He also guides her around when walking--even though she doesn't need the help she finds it cute how well-meaning he is and likes to hold his arm as they walk.

-She kissed him on their first date and he was so lovestruck that he told Miss Peregrine as soon as he got home how he planned to propose.

-When they eventually did get married they decided on a private ceremony as marrying an invisible man would not go over well with Lilly's family. All that Lilly's family knows about him is that he has a terrible allergy to the sun and he must always be dressed head to toe so he does not get injured, which is why he is always covered up at her family reunions.

-He became a cartographer and famous peculiar author in the peculiar world, and a beloved (though oddly dressed) history professor in the normal world.

-He and Lilly had one daughter. They named her Alma.

-He has very bad OCD and likes everything to be organized. Enoch messes with him by slightly moving one thing askew only to check in later and find it perfectly straightened, as if he never touched it.

-Millard has always been Horace's model, and has spent many Cairnholm days standing and posing boredly while Horace decides which tie went better with the suit.

-He considers Emma to be his best friend.

#mphfpc #millard nullings #jacob portman #emma bloom #horace somnusson #enoch o'connor #bronwyn bruntley #fiona frauenfeld #claire densmore #hugh apiston #lilly mphfpc #noor pradesh

[specialinterestshows]

Eat and toke with the Judgment Day in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed)

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 47 of ?): A Dish Best Served Rolled

Licking your lips, you thank the server as your order is placed in front of you.

"Finally," Dominik says excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

"What did you get?" you ask him, curious.

"Chicken tenders," everyone except you and JD says in unison, surprising the two of you, who look at each other awkwardly.

"They're the only thing he eats when we go out," Rhea sighs, looking at Dom with an amused smile as he digs in. Grinning at your metamour, you start on your own dish. A contented silence falls over the table, occasionally broken by the clinking of silverware, as everyone enjoys their food and drinks. Dominik finishes eating first, looking extremely satisfied.

"You ate that way too fast," you tell him, not even halfway through your own meal, "How do you not have a stomach ache?"

"Years of practice," Dom replies, looking very pleased with himself.

"Yeah: practicing smiling through your stomach aches," Rhea says, making him grin sheepishly.

Damian finishes his plate next, hurriedly chugging his water and wiping his mouth before standing and addressing Rhea.

"Need anything from the car?" he asked her, taking the keys out of his pocket.

"My messenger bag?" she requests, smiling as Damian nods and saunters over to the rental, his walk leisurely despite the hurried pace in which he finished eating.

Finn sighs, watching Damian walk away. JD claps a hand on Finn's shoulder, gently but firmly. A smile makes its way onto his face briefly before he notices you watching, quickly shrugging off JD's hand and clearing his throat. JD looks a bit hurt, but says nothing. You feel bad for having watched the two upon seeing JD's puppy-dog eyes, thinking of a time when you had been in a similar situation. Turning instead to look at your girlfriend, you take another bite of your food as Rhea wipes a few crumbs off Dominik's face and kisses his cheek before letting him finish his soda. You had never expected to feel so happy watching the woman you loved being sweet and affectionate with the man she loved, but you supposed what mattered most to you was that you were also important to her, and that she was happy.

"What is it, beautiful?" Rhea asks, noticing the pause in your eating as you look at her and Dominik.

"You guys are just so cute!" you say, smiling harder when Rhea poses and Dom blushes slightly.

"You should date us or something," Rhea jokes, grinning.

"Us?" you and Dominik asked in unison, confused.

"Too much?" she asks after giggling furiously at your reactions. You nod, but Dom seems to be considering it, nodding along with you once he sees you don't seem to be interested. Rhea laughs harder and you can't help but smile at the lovely sound.

"What's so funny?" Damian asks, walking up with Rhea's bag.

"Only two of the three of 'em want to form a triad," JD McDonagh replied, surprising everyone and making Dominik blush and look away, embarrassed.

Acting like he hadn't heard anything, Damian handed Rhea her bag, ignoring the look she gave him that seemed to say "don't be rude!"

"Hey, chica," Damian said, tapping your shoulder and looking around before slyly pulling a blunt out of his pocket, "Quieres?"

"You already know me so well," you reply, returning Damians mischievous smile before looking over at Rhea.

"If he's smoking, it means I'm the one driving us to the next location," she says, shaking her head as she plugs her phone into a portable charging block from her bag, "But you enjoy, love."

Taking one last sip of your beverage, you stand up and kiss Rhea before offering your car as the location for your smoke session with Damian and leading the way.

Feeling the vibration of your phone, you pull it out, expecting to see a text from Rhea. Instead, your phone reads: Text from: Liv Morgan. "Checking to make sure you're still alive! If I don't hear from you I might be legally required to tell WWE" The text ends with an emoji with its tongue sticking out.

Sighing, you quickly message back: "Not dead, all good!" before you and Damian reach your car and you unlock it. Getting in the driver's seat, you pull your sunshade off the floor in the back and prop it up against your windshield with the sun visors before Damian slides into the seat next to you. Just as Damian pulls out the blunt again, your phone buzzes. Opening the compartment underneath the radio, you pull out a lighter you kept there, offering it to Damian and ignoring your phone.

"Better check that and make sure it's not Rhea," Damian says, taking the lighter from you, "Our Eradicator makes it look like nothing phases her too much, but she's head over heels for you, chica."

Nodding, you check your phone as Damian brings the blunt to his lips and lights it.

Text from: Liv Morgan. "Glad you're not dead! You're way too cute to die" The message ended with a winking emoji and you felt your face getting warm.

[end part forty-seven of ?]

Part 48: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/729576237256851456/absolute-smokeshow-part-48-of-in-the-hot-box

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domlynch

#wwe fanfiction #the judgment day #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor #finn balor x damian priest #finn balor x jd mcdonagh #damian priest #jd mcdonagh #liv morgan #liv morgan x reader #lady!reader #weed #the judgement day #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

[gonzo-rella]

The Queer Best Friends of Steve Harrington | Robin Buckley (ft. Steve Harrington) (pt. 1)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

PART ONE | PART TWO (COMING SOON)

Relationship(s): Robin Buckley x gn!reader (romantic), Steve Harrington x gn!reader (platonic), Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley (platonic)

Summary: Whilst coming out to Steve, Robin reveals something equally shocking to the revelation of her sexuality.

Warnings: Coming out scene. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 1.4k

(A/N: This has been an idea I’ve wanted to write for literal years. I found this as a semi-finished draft of my old plus-size-reader-insert blog from back in the day (by that I mean, a few years ago). I haven’t yet finished Stranger Things season 4 (I’m hoping to rewatch the show in its entirety soon, possibly after I’ve finished Yellowjackets), but I still really wanted to write this. Also, as a nonbinary person, I really want to write more gender neutral reader-inserts for Robin, so let me know if there’s anything you’d like for me to write. Also, ignore the fact that Steve uses gender neutral pronouns for you but fails to immediately comprehend Robin’s queerness.)

Cheating death was sure to bond two people, and that’s how you and Steve- a pair of reluctant babysitters- were able to put your differences aside and keep a group of misfit kids out of harm’s way. He didn’t care that hanging out with you meant he was no longer cool, and you didn’t mind that a few girls were insanely envious of you. If anything, it inflated your ego, even if they did whisper about you behind your back.

Over the summer, you saw Steve as much as possible. After all, you were too broke to go on vacation, you didn’t want to hitchhike around the country and you had no one else to hang out with. So, you decided just to hang out with your best friend as much as possible. And, what are friends for if not for allowing their friends to abuse their friends and family discount at their place of work? After all, he abused your 7/11 discount over the past year, so of course you abused his Scoops Ahoy discount. Every. Single. Shift. Hell, you only ever really showed any interest in his work when you were asking when his next shift was. Then you’d make sure to go and pay him a visit, like the good friend you were.

You were often so busy talking to Steve at the campy ice cream parlour that you didn’t notice the curious, gazing eyes of the beautiful girl behind the counter. You remembered Robin from many of your shared classes. You exchanged the occasional comment in class, earning quiet laughs from one another. Little did you know, she’d found her gaze wandering to you long before she started working with your best friend. In fact, other than the fact that she was in the school marching band, you knew very little about her.

That was until the end of the second week of summer, when Steve was in the back room of Scoops Ahoy.

“Hey, Robin,” you greeted casually, as though you were good friends rather than just barely acquaintances.

“Oh...um...hey, Y/N,” she greeted awkwardly, straightening herself into a nonchalant-looking pose rather than her bored, hunched-over position at the counter. “H-how’s it going?”

“Eh. Could be better, could be worse, y’know?” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“Um... I’m fine, I guess. Well, as fine as you can be when you leave the house dressed like this,” Robin answered with a small gesture to her outfit, earning a laugh and smile from you that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“Your uniform looks better on you than Steve’s looks on him,” you shrugged, the compliment heating up Robin’s cheeks. “To think he was once the king of Hawkins High.”

Robin smiled a little and chuckled. 

“Speaking of the king of Hawkins High, do you want me to get his highness from the backroom?” she asked. 

Luckily for her, you hadn’t noticed the way she was staring at you, because you had been too busy flicking through and counting dollar bills in your wallet.

You glanced up at her and flashed her a smile.

“Yeah, thanks.”

After that day, you spoke to Robin a lot more often. In fact, you asked her if she wanted to go to your house and watch the copy of A Nightmare on Elm Street that you’d finally been able to rent. Following that, you hung out with one another far more often, be it at the movie theatre, somewhere else in the mall or at one another’s houses. Steve was definitely a little jealous that his best friend was being stolen, something that you and Robin most definitely noticed and most definitely teased him for.

It was shaping up to be a normal summer, but that’s just not what you get in Hawkins. At least after you’ve been roped into the town’s self-appointed team of defenders.

Of course, it wasn’t long before you were in charge of a very drugged-up Steve and Robin, as well as Robin and Erica. You clearly weren’t as good a babysitter as you’d thought when you lost the elder two of the four, who you would later discover were now sat in the bathroom. 

Whilst you were rushing around the mall like a frantic parent in search of their children, they were having a surprisingly emotional conversation.

“Do you remember what I said about you and Y/N always being so close? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?” Robin asked.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, curious to see where this was going.

“It isn’t because I had a crush on you,” Robin confessed and bit her lip gently. “It’s because... they don’t stop laughing at the stuff you say. They look at you like you’re the greatest guy in the world.”

“Huh? Y/N?” he said.

Robin chuckled lowly. 

“Yeah. Y/N.” She paused. “I want them to laugh at the things I said and I want them to look at me as much as they look as you... but they’re always with you, laughing at the stupid things you say and looking at you and your stupid hair. And, I don’t understand because you-you picked on them about everything since you were kids until you guys just suddenly became best friends. And, you’ve always been way stupider than them. And, you’re a douchebag. And-and you don’t even like them like I always did even though they were always the funniest and coolest person and...I’d just go home and just scream into my pillow.”

“But Y/N’s-” Steve responded, confused.

“Steve,” she said softly, tilting her head a little in mild frustration at the fact it hadn’t clicked in his mind quite yet.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathing out a confused laugh.

She looked at him, and then it hit him. His eyes widened a little, but he never looked disgusted, which she’d feared.

“Oh,” is all he could say.

“Oh,” she mimicked softly.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed out, leaning back in disbelief.

“Yeah. Holy shit,” Robin repeated half-heartedly, also leaning back as she looked to the ceiling. She then looked down at her thighs, sighing a little at the silence they now found themselves in. Filled with nerves and slight relief, Robin looked up at Steve. 

“Steve...” she said softly. “Did you OD over there?”

“No, I just, uh...” Steve said almost breathlessly. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” Robin whispered, scratching her neck awkwardly.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve said. “Y/N’s cool and all, but...I mean, they’re a total dork.”

“So what?” Robin asked.

“They’re in the chess club and they watch Star Trek,” Steve answered.

“They have passions. It’s cute,” Robin defended.

“Look, they’re my best friend, but... if you ever wanna be more than that with them, I gotta be sure that you’re prepared to handle all of their nerdy...ness. Like, we saw the Karate Kid 7 times when it came out because ‘it was the coolest movie since Return of the Jedi’. We saw the Breakfast Club 10 times because ‘it’s, like, the best movie made since the Karate Kid’,” he said, imitating you with an unflattering voice.

“They don’t talk like that!” Robin laughed.

“That was a great impersonation,” Steve responded. “Oh, and when they’re listening to music, they try to sing the words and the instruments.”

“I think it’s cute!” Robin exclaimed in protest, laughing even harder when Steve started singing some Rush song you’d sung to yourself several times, whilst also vocalising the guitar, bass and drums in intervals, not unlike someone trying to do all the parts to Bohemian Rhapsody on their own. Steve laughed just as hard as Robin when she joined in, with the both of them knowing it solely from your renditions of it. Eventually, they were just both laughing with one another, making Robin feel accepted by her friend. When the laughter faded away, and they were both smiling.

“For what it’s worth...I think you should ask them out,” Steve told Robin. “They’ve spent so much time with me and they don’t seem interested, so they must be into girls. And, looking back on it I think they have a crush on Princess Leia.”

Robin chuckled and sighed. “I’m not... you. I can’t just go up to them and ask them out.”

“Well, luckily for you, you’ve got a totally awesome wingman.” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll tell them when we’re not in dange-”

She was interrupted by the door slamming open, and you were standing in front of Dustin and Erica. 

“Okay, I’m really mad at you guys right now, but I’ll be pissed at you when our asses aren’t on the line. Let’s go.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x gn!reader #robin buckley x gn reader #robin buckley x gender neutral!reader #robin buckley x gender neutral reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gn reader #steve harrington x gender neutral!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #stranger things #x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader

[acapelladitty]

Would you please consider maybe doing Crane dancing either with a partner or maybe witty girl? I believe in some adaptations he's apparently a very gifted dancer. You don't have to but I love your writing and would like to see your take on it

As the simple radio which lay towards of the end of Crane's workbench continues to lull out some unknown country-esque music, the curiosity which has been nipping at your thoughts becomes unbearable.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Twisting in position on the short stool which he is perched upon, Crane's expression is unchanging as he glances over at you on the couch.

"Seeking permission? Interesting."

Choosing to ignore that, you continue.

"Why do you call it 'violent dancing'? The way you fight."

That causes him to pause, and the silence seems to stretch out as he clearly considers his response. The term was one which you had come across in an old article describing one of his crimes and it hadn't quite left your thoughts ever since.

Besides, who better to ask than the originator himself?

"Physical brutality is its own kind of dance. While I don't revel in trading open blows, it's a necessity for my line of work and the skills involved in dance lend themselves well. Hence 'violent dancing'."

The explanation is short, devoid of any real emotional input as his eyes never waver from your own.

"You dance?"

Surprised by the subtle admission, the question is free of your lips before you can think too much about it.

In lieu of an answer, Crane offers a non-committal grunt.

A childish joy plucks at your heart as you think of him in various dance poses; his elongated limbs curving and flowing as he flits around, and the thought makes your lips loosen further.

"You're very tall and I've seen how you can move and sneak around. I can imagine you'd be quite good at it. Dancing, I mean."

He observes your sudden burst of excitement with an almost pained expression but his deadpan voice is as unchanged as ever when he replies.

"In a previous life, perhaps."

You can feel the foolish request hanging from the tip of your tongue; the itch of it making your fingers rub gently on the hem of your shirt. After all, he did seem in a decent enough mood.

"Would-"

But the words falter as he meets your gaze with a heavy look, the wire-rimmed glasses partially hiding a challenge which you can't bring yourself to meet.

"Nevermind."

The chair creaks as he spins back around to his work, leaving you staring at the back of his head with a wistful disappointment aching within your chest.

It was a petty hope, you understood that. The man barely accommodated your needs within the basement so to expect him to put himself out for something potentially embarrassing was foolish. Not only that, but to dance with someone was an intimate thing which required a closeness you were unsure him capable of.

A deep sigh pulls you from your thoughts and hope, wicked in its intensity, alights within your chest as his hand reaches for the small dial on the radio and turns the music up. His body is quick to follow, standing from the stool in one fluid motion as he turns and stands before you, his lab coat swaying around his knees.

"Move, little mouse."

Standing before you awkwardly, his outstretched hand is quick to be snatched up within your own as a genuine smile splits your lips.

His free hand is quick to secure around your waist, anchoring you to his thin frame as he moves around a little stiffly at first, allowing you to pick up on the slow rhythm which is being set by the music. Not wanting to push your luck, you allow yourself to be led around as your feet take great care to not step on his toes.

As always, he towers above you in a way which leaves your face on line with his upper chest. The musk of his faint colonge swirls within your senses and you inhale it with a subtle deepness that makes your pulse rise and fall as you sway in place.

Observed by nothing but the spiders which had long since accumulated in the dank corners of the basement, a scarecrow danced with his witty girl until the final beats of the music dissolved into nothingness.

#i did have more to this but i lost it and i csnt retrieve it 😭😭😭 #Jonathan crane #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #whole day off

[thetinyboio]

Welcome Home [Cult of The Lamb A.u]

.

.

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Prologue [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5] TW: Medical related talk minor though

Poppy raised her feather as if ready to argue but decided against it, not wanting to create more tension.

"Alright," she conceded, "just make sure he stays calm if he wakes up too soon again. He may need a revision."

With that, Poppy made her way to the nurse's station to gather more information about the medications everyone would require for the evening. Barnaby, still seated with his arms crossed in the corner, maintained his vigilant watch over the sleeping Wally and Thoth. Thoth’s gaze shifting awkwardly to the bedding, seemed uncertain in the silence.

Barnaby, attempting to break the ice and ease Thoth's unease, finally spoke up. 

"Aye, kid. I'm not gonna bite. So just relax, okay?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You like jokes?"

Thoth gave a small, hesitant nod.

Barnaby grinned, his nubby tail giving a playful wag.

 "If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring?" He paused, awaiting Thoth's response, but they shrugged in confusion.

"Pilgrims," Barnaby answered with a chuckle.

Thoth, still slightly perplexed, managed a small smile.

Barnaby continued his efforts to lighten the mood. "Oh! What did Baby Corn say to Mama Corn? Where's Popcorn?" He looked at Thoth, hoping for even a slight chuckle.

Thoth replied with a puzzled, "I'm sorry?"

Barnaby persisted, "Aw, come on, kid. Not even a fake laugh?"

Thoth finally caught on, he was trying to make them laugh. Barnaby posed another joke. "Mmm… How does the moon cut his hair?"

Thoth played along, asking, "How?"

Barnaby grinned triumphantly, "Eclipse it."

Thoth tilted their head in understanding and smiled a little, finally getting the joke. Barnaby let out a small laugh of relief.

 "Oh, thank goodness. You do have a sense of humor… well… ain't no medicine better than the healing power of laughter." 

He sighed, glancing over at Wally. "Oh, little buddy… what a mess, pal…"

Thoth, their expression softened with sympathy, looked between Barnaby and Wally. "How close are you two?" They inquired, their curiosity and concern evident in their eyes. "We've been knowing each other since we was in grade school, practically brothers sometimes," Barnaby reflected, his eyes drifting down to Wally before returning to Thoth. "I wish I knew who he was looking for; maybe I could have helped find them..."

Thoth listened intently, their curiosity piqued by the depth of the bond between Barnaby and Wally.

"Oh, I see..." Thoth responded, their tone tinged with a hint of melancholy. "I don't think I had a friend like that... He's really lucky to have people such as yourself and Miss Poppy to care about him..." They fidgeted with their bandages, lost in thought. "Where I come from... the only person that cared about me was my mother..."

Barnaby's eyes softened, and he offered a sympathetic nod. "Your mother sounds like a real sweet lady. I hope to meet her someday. Gotta know who raised such a smart and wise little guy!" He smiled, a touch oblivious to the somewhat somber tone of their conversation.

Thoth let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sad sigh, their gaze fixed on Wally.

"I think that would be the first positive thing my mother would have ever heard about me," they admitted. "I've always been told I daydream too much or don't pay enough attention, that I come off as ignorant..."

As the room settled into a brief silence, both Barnaby and Thoth found themselves contemplating the complexities of their pasts and the unique connections they had formed with Wally, their dear friend whose quest remained shrouded in mystery.

"Well, whoever says that is dead wrong," Barnaby insisted, his frown conveying his sincerity. "I think you've got a good head on your shoulders! Better than most I've seen out and about sometimes."

Thoth's smile grew slightly at the compliment, appreciating the encouragement. "You're very kind," they replied. "But just to be fair, I think if I was a bit smarter, I probably wouldn't be where I am now."

Thoth's thoughts turned inward, dwelling on past regrets. "Maybe if I would have said something... they wouldn't have taken her." They sighed, fidgeting with their itchy bandages. The itching only seemed to exacerbate their frustration. "At least when you wake up next, you'll have others waiting for you..." Thoth couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy toward Wally's circumstances.

Barnaby, noticing Thoth's discomfort, tried to offer a solution. "Well, maybe, but you're here now," he pointed out optimistically. He shifted his chair so he was positioned between Wally and Thoth. "Best to make the most of it, ya know... Oh, hey, want me to see if Poppy can get something for that itch? Hate to see them have to cone ya; I've had to have that too many times when I get into a little too much trouble."

Thoth chuckled lightly, appreciating Barnaby's concern. "Yeah... sorry, guess I burned my paws really badly..." They sighed, their mind wandering to the uncertain future. "At least when you wake up next, you'll have others waiting for you..." Thoth couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy toward Wally's circumstances.

Barnaby pondered Thoth's predicament for a moment before offering a solution. "Hmm, well, not that comes to mind, but I don't think you should worry about that after such an accident," he suggested. "But let me make some calls; I might be able to set you up someplace! Worst comes to worst, I've got an extra room; you can stay there till you get on your paws! Don't stress yourself over it, okay?"

Poppy's gentle interruption broke the reverie of Barnaby and Thoth, her presence a welcome one as she returned with the evening medications.

"Sorry to intrude again, but I have your meds!" she announced, placing a small cup of water and the necessary medicines next to Thoth, giving them time to take it when they were ready. She then efficiently replaced one of Wally's IV bags and disposed of the old, empty one.

She turned to address Barnaby with a hint of reluctance. "I do also hate to say this, Barnaby, but at 10, you'll have to go home, visiting hours are over by then. But I did okay it with the staff for you to come in with me tomorrow to check up on them."

As the medication began to take effect, Thoth's anxiety slowly dulled, and exhaustion overcame them. The room around them started to blur, and the bickering between Barnaby and Poppy became distant and dreamlike. In the hazy realm between wakefulness and slumber, Thoth was aware of their surroundings but felt detached from reality.

They listened to the back-and-forth between Barnaby and Poppy, the two friends bantering about Barnaby's insistence on staying by Wally's side. The sound of Poppy shooing Barnaby out of the room drifted into Thoth's ears.

Thoth's thoughts swirled, a mix of drowsy confusion and the effort to be polite. "...Oh? They're leaving? ...It was nice meeting you..." They mumbled silently in their mind as they succumbed to the medication's effects, descending into deeper unconsciousness.

In this dreamlike state, Thoth's mind played tricks on them, conjuring odd shapes and colors that danced before their closed eyelids. Amid the swirling patterns, a distant voice echoed—an all-too-familiar voice, that of their mother.

"Stop daydreaming, Thoth. You'll get yourself in trouble," the voice chided, a reproach echoing from the depths of memory.

Thoth's dreamscape shifted, Their ears perk up hearing the strange voice once more.

"Nice to meet you three properly!" the figure greeted, its voice echoing mysteriously in the dreamlike void. Thoth looked around but found no one else in this peculiar dreamscape. The unsettling encounter left them with more questions than answers, as the enigmatic presence lingered in the depths of their unconscious mind.

Thoth's heart raced as they tried to make sense of the surreal encounter. The towering figure before them, with its window-like eyes and long wild red hair and humanoid features, sent shivers down their spine. They stammered in confusion and fear, their voice trembling.

"Three?... W-who?... What… What is this?... Where's Miss. Poppy? Where am I?" Thoth's wide-eyed gaze scanned the endless darkness that surrounded them, a sense of disorientation taking hold. The echoing clunking of metal chains only added to their anxiety, reminiscent of the haunting nights in their previous cell.

The enigmatic figure responded, its words echoing through Thoth's dreamlike state. "Fear not, you are still in that world with the sweet bird and the large dog," it reassured them, its tone strangely calm despite its imposing appearance. "I have just projected myself into your mind while you sleep. My name, I've long since forgotten, as I've been imprisoned for so long. But you may have heard of me as 'The One Who Waits So Below.'"

The figure, seeing Thoth's unease, made a gesture of goodwill by shrinking its projected form to a more manageable size. It extended a hand toward Thoth, its intentions unclear yet seemingly welcoming.

"Pleased to finally meet you," it offered, its voice holding a hint of curiosity and anticipation.

Thoth, though still gripped by fear and confusion, stared at the large figur’s hand, unsure of the true nature of this strange being and the implications of this mysterious encounter.

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