#inspired by u remind me by usher

[ofmermaidstories]

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP 🕙

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; end up here

maybe a tad angsty (taesan is an overthinker), fluff at end!, campus crush (he's literally in love with you), college au, reader is a baddie mhm yep yep

word count: 2.2k wtf

warnings: cursing, implied insecurity (taesan), alcohol usage, alcohol + weed mention, party setting, i'm literally so cliche but idgaf

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: everyone rejoice... other members are mentioned >:D ok i lied. i tried to fit everyone in but it's mainly riwoo & leehan. and it felt wrong to find a way to include woonhak in a college party where there are Drugs and Alcohol buttttt hope u enjoy mwuwhuwhuh

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

taesan really didn’t want to go to this party, but riwoo and leehan had insisted it would be more fun than staying in his dorm room writing song lyrics the third weekend in a row. not that he doesn’t want to party, but he’d rather spend his time doing something he’s /actually/ interested in-- and right now, it doesn’t include making awkward small talk with strangers he will probably never see again in a sweaty led-lit room with mediocre music in the background. 

“taesan… come on! i understand that you love making music, but don’t you think it’s time to come out with us? just this once?” riwoo pleads with him, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. reluctantly, taesan spins around in his chair, turning to face his friend properly. 

“ah, i knew i shouldn’t have turned around. it’s so much easier to say no to you when i’m not looking at your face. put those puppy eyes away, i’ll go change.” he gives in a bit easier than he initially intended to, unable to hide his smile at the way riwoo does a dance of celebration at his successful convincing. 

leehan, currently leaning on the doorframe, chuckles at the sight. “i don’t think it’d be bad for you to go out with us from time to time,” he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before continuing his thought, “maybe you’ll find some more song inspiration while we're out.”

taesan rolls his eyes and ushers the two out of his room, quickly changing into one of his favorite shirts and fixing his hair in the mirror. after grabbing a couple of accessories and checking himself out in the mirror one last time, the trio make their way to the house in question. it’s only a party, it shouldn't be too bad... 

“wow, the weather’s perfect tonight.” leehan admires, hands in his pockets as they walk through campus, warmly lit by the streetlights scattered around. the crisp night air only seems to give taesan cold feet, as he feels the sudden urge to turn around and walk back to the laptop waiting for him in his dorm (despite being only a couple seconds away from their destination). almost expecting this to happen, riwoo stops in his tracks, causing taesan to bump into him.

riwoo crosses his arms, ready to give the best pep talk of his life. “i swear i can hear your thoughts. dude, don’t overthink this! it’s just another one of jaehyun’s parties, nothing crazy. we’re gonna have fun tonight!" riwoo frowns at taesan's doubtful expression. "leehan, help me out here.”

“i’m sure you’ll recognize at least half the people there. plus, you look cool.” leehan pats him on the back as a means of reassurance before putting his arm around taesan, practically dragging him through the door. 

upon entering, taesan is immediately reminded of the last time his two friends convinced him to go out with them-- it reeked of cheap weed, the music absolutely sucked, and to top it all off, someone spilled their mystery drink (?) all over his shirt. never again, he told himself that night.

but here he was, red solo cup in hand as he followed his two friends around while they greeted various people around the room. taesan actually could not recognize anyone else except his classmates, sungho and jaehyun, who were sitting on the couch against the wall. the concoction in his cup was barely touched, disgustingly sweet because of the various juices in it, and alcohol too strong to enjoy it in the slightest. maybe he should’ve stayed home.

“you walked in, everyone was asking for your name / you just smiled and told them trouble” 

“no way…is that y/n? y’know, i was convinced you’d never show up to one of my parties, but here you are!” jaehyun nearly jumps up from his place on the couch, hugging you at the entrance before shoving a cup full of who-knows-what into your hand. no way, indeed.

never did taesan think he would end up seeing his campus crush as close as he is now. this is crazy. he finds himself straightening his posture suddenly, even going as far as taking a big gulp of the drink in his hand, despite its unappealing taste. he'd noticed you early into the semester, finding you sitting with your friends out in one of the common areas outside his classes. he didn’t think much of it-- that is, until he kept seeing you. like, everywhere. he'd never admit it to himself, but he soon found himself looking forward to seeing you around. eventually, it got to the point where he started dressing a little nicer on the days he knew you’d be there, in hopes that you might notice him too. 

“i think some of your friends are here already, y/n. oh, a few of my friends from class came too, you'll love them!” jaehyun encourages you to introduce yourself on the spot. while slightly flustered, you look around the room with a smile as you wave to the various people.

“shit, how many friends do you have?” you joke, taking a sip from your cup before properly introducing yourself to a room full of, well, strangers. “nice to meet you everyone, i’m y/n!” you do a little twirl, which earns a couple whistles from around the room. taesan swore he felt the room brighten up with your arrival. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room full of people. he moves to take another gulp of his drink as the two of you lock eyes briefly, making him cough before he could properly swallow. 

“y/n…who’s that? you know them?” leehan questions from next to him, pointing his cup in the direction of the front door. taesan only hums and shakes his head ‘no’ in response, his eyes glued to you as you dance along with the friends you’d just greeted. 

“my head spins / i’m pressed against the wall just watching your every move / you’re way too cool / now you’re coming this way” 

despite his sudden reluctance to drink when he first got there, taesan found himself with a freshly replenished cup planted in his hand as he leaned against the wall. the alcohol was starting to get to him; he could definitely feel the buzz with the way the room felt like it got a couple degrees hotter. or maybe it was just you being there that was making him warmer than he was ten minutes ago. he was vaguely listening to the conversation his classmates were having next to him, but his eyes always found their way back to you. he’s seeing you in a completely different light. normally, he’d be one to briefly admire from afar as he walked out of his lecture hall; now, you’re here. 

and all of a sudden it’s a little too real, because what do you mean he gets to see you laugh and dance around with your friends…? you’re just supposed to be the campus crush he never gets the chance to make a move on. wait. this is his chance to make a move, isn’t it? oh god, what if he doesn’t get another opportunity like this to talk to you without looking like some weird dude who’s been looking at you across campus-

“how did we end up talking in the first place? / you said you liked my cobain shirt”

“cool shirt. kurt cobain, yeah?” oh shit. and now you’re in front of him. riwoo elbows taesan, which was his way of telling him ‘good luck.’ the action snaps him out of his thoughts, eyes widening ever so slightly before he clears his throat.

“yeah, it is. you know nirvana then?” he scratches the back of his head, noticing his friends moving their conversation away from the two of you out of his peripheral vision. he mentally curses them out, because now this conversation feels like he needs to make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, and now there’s no one there to butt in and save him. 

“obviously! you can’t say you know kurt cobain if you don’t know who nirvana is.” you beam at him as you finish the drink you were holding in your hand. his campus crush listens to one of his favorite artists, surely this isn’t real.

“taesan,” he blurts out, “i’m taesan, by the way. and you are..?” he waits for your response, as if your name wasn’t the only thing floating in his mind the second jaehyun welcomed you inside. (this is his attempt of being nonchalant btw)

“i’m y/n!” you look down at your empty cup briefly before looking around the room aimlessly. “do you want to get out of here?”

“what? you want to… leave?” with him? like this? now he’s almost sure this is some sort of prank or something. he’s taken aback at the bold request, clearly confused at what the hell is going on.

“it’s hot in here. and loud. you don’t want to step outside for a minute?” you placed your cup down on a random table, already making your way towards the door. you look at taesan, extending out your hand for him to grab so you can drag him through the crowd. 

oh, you just want to get some fresh air. okay. that makes a lot more sense. he’s glad the lighting is so bad in there, as he’s almost certain his ears are red as he looks at your waiting hand. he mimics your actions, putting his cup down on the counter before finally placing his hand in yours and letting you lead the way. 

“now we’re walking back to your place / you’re telling me how you love that song about living on a prayer” 

the two of you sit side by side on the curb outside the house, slowly getting more used to each other as you go on about random topics-- first, it was music... then clothes... eventually turning into a never-ending stream of conversation topics neither of you wanted to put an end to. he’s in awe of the situation he’s currently in: you look so beautiful under the streetlights, and you keep laughing at his jokes, and maybe the weather really is perfect tonight, just as leehan said earlier.

...taesan doesn’t exactly know how he finds himself sitting on your living room floor, but he vaguely remembers you complaining about how your outfit was too uncomfortable and you desperately needed to change. he instinctively offers to walk you back to your apartment to get some comfier clothes on; you even offer him one of your bigger hoodies for him to change into. it was still a little small for his liking, but he accepts your kind gesture happily.

much to his satisfaction, the conversation never dies. hours pass as you two continue talking about anything and everything. the things you miss from your hometowns, embarrassing childhood stories, outrageous things you've witnessed at past parties you've been to-- and it all flows so naturally. taesan swears he is in love, because even though he was lucky enough to find a great group of friends at uni, he’d never clicked with someone like this so fast, let alone the person he's been crushing on for weeks now. 

“my friends say i should lock you down / before you figure me out and you run away / but you don’t and you won’t / as you kiss me and you tell me that you’re here to stay” 

taesan is disappointed when he wakes up. damn it, he knew it was a dream. he blinks a couple times before reaching for his phone on his nightstand, only to be met with… carpet? and you, his campus crush, the person he spent the entire night talking to until you both eventually fell asleep on the apartment floor next to each other, laying on the carpet two feet away from him. sitting up almost immediately, he covers his mouth in disbelief as he takes in the situation, desperately looking for where his phone is without making too much noise.

→ 6 missed texts from The Boyz groupchat! riwoo: taesanieeee did u go back to the dorm without telling us :(  leehan: Wasn’t he talking to y/n? leehan: Check outside sungho: yeah, he’s still out there talking to them sungho: leave him be lmao jaehyun: actually? this isn’t really y/n’s type of crowd jaehyun: i’m surprised they haven’t gone home yet LOL keep up the good work taesan ;)

he puts his phone down on the floor, letting out a sigh as he places his head in his hands. oh god, and they’re already on him about this. he can’t help but let the last message jaehyun sent get to his head. not your crowd, huh? yeah, makes sense. after all, you shone so bright last night, it’s only reasonable for them to think that you probably wouldn’t get along with a guy who practically hugged the wall the whole time.

“he’s just trying to psych you out, you know.” you ran your hands through your hair as you stretch, taesan’s phone in hand. he shoots up immediately, in shock at the realization that you were awake and that you read the texts on his phone. “sorry for taking a peek at your groupchat, was just curious about what had you sulking so early in the morning.” you pass it back to him, his cheeks visibly flushed in embarrassment; the sunlight shining through the blinds only illuminating his current flustered state further. 

“i wasn’t planning on coming to the party last night, by the way. i only showed up because he told me you’d be there. you think i haven’t noticed you around campus too?” you smile at him from your place on the floor, moving over to give him a peck on the cheek. he thinks it’s insane how charming you can get, even if you just woke up. “stop worrying so much-- i’m here to stay, taesan. only if you treat me to breakfast though.” 

taesan doesn’t exactly know how he ended up here, but he was almost certain he'd found his new muse.

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[rosenkranz-does-things]

About the Mike Flanagan discourse:

I've personally seen people complaining about Flanagan at least since the trailer for his adaptation of The Fall of the House of Usher, and before that, he's kinda infamous for his adaptations of Hill House and Turn of the Screw for his tendency to take these stories, scoop all it makes them them, keep only the names and some references and do whatever he wants.

His adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House is kinda egregious due to him taking a story about the typical family structure is a source of horror to those who can't fit into it (like Theo for being gay and Eleanor for being a childless spinster) and turned into a show about an evil house breaking apart this nuclear family, only for them to overcome their inner demons and grief via the power of love, and that's without touching how he sisterzoned Eleanor and Theo, who in the original book got attached to each other really fast, with Eleanor even dreaming of U-Hauling with Theo.

I think the reason you're seeing more and more hate for Flanagan is because people are getting more and more tired of his shit, though I admit it can be kinda extreme. However, there are still lots of people excited to see his takes on Carrie and The Exorcist on his main tag.

Hope this explains the situation.

well, that's one opinion and I appreciate it! however I never understood people complaining about Theo and Eleanor being sisters in the show, given that Theo is still a lesbian and gets a girlfriend, but you do you. I guess I've seen plenty of adaptations of my favorite books that didn't follow the original closely, so I've learned to keep these two things separately. in Flanagan's case, those aren't even adaptations really, they just take some inspiration from the source material and put their own spin on it, and I don't see what's so controversial about it. why can't he do with them whatever he wants? is there a law against that? this discourse reminds me of people complaining about modern adaptations of the things they loved as kids, claiming that they "ruined their childhood" (she-ra is one example I can think of right now). but the source material is still there! it's not ruined! Flanagan didn't burn those books, you can still go and read them. "tired of his shit" sounds so funny to me, I'm so sorry, but it feels like he's personally making you sit through all his shows. long story short, adaptations are allowed to be different, and yes even wildly different. if Mike's work is not your thing, maybe try The Haunting (1999) where Eleanor banishes Hugh Crain to hell and then ascends to heaven, that for sure sounds less sanitizing, right?

[planetpiastri]

ooo can you do 10 with hangman please??

anon this request grabbed me by the hair and threw me down the stairs and when i got up this blurb existed. i am merely a vessel here. i hope u enjoy!

10. sitting next to each other at their mutual friend’s wedding

word count: 2k

“You’re late,” hummed Mickey under his breath as you brushed past him, heading out towards the lawn.

“But they haven’t started playing music, so I’m not that late,” you shot back, pausing to catch your breath and scan the crowd sitting on the folded chairs spread across the greenery. “Which is Rooster’s side?”

“Left,” he said with a jerk of his chin, “but it’s not like you really have any other options. You’re on the end there.”

“Thanks,” you said, giving him a quick squeeze on the arm. “You’re the best usher ever. It’s good to see you.”

“Hurry up!” he chuckled, but you’d already started moving again. You tried not to focus on the fact that the one open seat was on the aisle towards the front, which meant everyone seated got to stare at you as you walked down the aisle. Instead you made eye contact with Rooster, standing under the white archway in his tux, and waved excitedly.

He very obviously stifled a laugh and shook his head in mock disapproval, mouthing, You’re late. 

Sorry, you mouthed back, quickly taking your seat and nearly colliding with your seat neighbor. Jeez, these seats were tiny.

“Well, hello,” said your seat neighbor, immediately stopping whatever conversation he was having and turning to give you a very obvious once-over.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turned and did the same to him—and immediately wished you hadn’t. Oh, shit. This guy was cute. He was broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw and bright green eyes. His blond hair was neatly smoothed back for the occasion, and he was dressed in a nice dress shirt suit jacket that seemed to be straining at the seams. There was a half-cocked smirk resting on his lips as he looked you over, and you felt your own jaw clench as your eyes met his.

“Hi,” you said.

“You know, you’re late,” he told you as if you were old friends.

“No kidding. I thought the ceremony started at—” you checked your phone, “three-twenty-four. That’s a normal time for weddings to start, right?”

He chuckled, but it sounded more like a scoff. He jerked his chin up towards the archway where Rooster was standing, fiddling with his hands nervously. “Which are you here for? Bride or groom?”

“I’m sitting on the groom’s side, aren’t I?” you shot back.

He fixed you with a look that made you freeze in place. “I wasn’t aware you had many options.”

Your cheeks started to warm, but you fought it back and cleared your throat, blinking and tearing your eyes away. What was that accent? It was faint, just barely there—Texan, maybe? “Me and Rooster are old friends. High school.”

“No kidding,” said your seat neighbor, throwing his elbow up against the tiny back of his folding chair. “He’s never mentioned you.”

“You don’t know me,” you reminded him.

“Jake,” he said quickly, holding out his hand. “I’m an old piloting buddy of Bradshaw’s.”

After a moment, you shook his hand and introduced yourself. 

“There,” said Jake. “Now I know you. And now I know for sure that he never mentioned you.”

“Well, he never mentioned you, either,” you said.

Jake laughed, and you were oddly pleased to be the inspiration of such a noise. “You know just how to cut a man deep, don’t you?”

“It’s a talent,” you admitted with a sly smile.

A dimple on Jake’s cheek twinkled as he gave you an appraising sort of look that went on for several seconds longer than might have been appropriate. Then he stretched out, saying, “So, old high school buddies, huh? What’s the deal there? Childhood sweethearts? Best friends who always wanted more?”

“No,” you said sternly, shooting him a glare.

“What?” he shrugged, laughing. “I’m just saying. Someone pretty as you—there’s no way Bradshaw’s never thought about it.”

As you scoffed and adjusted your outfit, feeling quite flustered, the bride’s entrance music began to play. Everyone shifted in their seats except for Jake, who kept looking right at you, pinning you with that green gaze. You finally said, “You’re extremely presumptuous, Jake. No wonder Rooster never mentioned you; you’re exactly the type of piloting buddy he would have told me to stay away from.”

“Bingo,” said Jake. “Best friends who always wanted more. I knew it.”

“That’s not—!”

“Ssh,” he interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. Behind it, his mouth curled into a teasing smirk. “It’s rude to talk while the bride is making her entrance.”

Part of you wanted to wring his neck; another part of you was sure he could hear the way your heart was pounding in your chest, an excited, flirtatious flush coursing through your body as he watched you. But you maintained your composure and turned primly in your seat, turning to watch as Rooster’s wife-to-be slowly and elegantly made her way down the aisle.

The ceremony was lovely and beautiful, just as you knew it would be. Rooster had asked Maverick to officiate, something you knew meant a great deal to Rooster and probably more to the old captain. When it came to the reciting of the vows, you were fairly certain there wasn’t a dry eye in the house; even aloof, stoic Jake next to you dropped his cocky smirk, and you caught him subtly dabbing at his eyes once or twice when he thought no one noticed.

Once the reception began, you didn’t hang around to let Jake get under your skin anymore. It was wild to you just how quickly he’d figured out what buttons to push that made you squirm, and you didn’t want to give him any more opportunities to learn anything else about what made you tick. Instead, you rushed to find Rooster as soon as you could, throwing your arms around him and giving him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek before doing the same to his bride.

The hours plodded on, and soon everyone was at least three drinks in—or, as Mickey liked to say, the wedding had actually started. You split your time between dancing with him and dancing with Natasha, and you used slow dances as an opportunity to return to the bar and rest your feet for a bit.

You were nursing a tequila sunrise at the bar when you remembered the man from the ceremony. Come to think of it, you’d seen him on the floor a couple times, dancing with a bridesmaid or a couple of his bro-ey friends, but he hadn’t said a word to you. And why would he? Why were you still thinking about him? He was obviously just a flirt; he’d probably gotten under the skin of half the bridal party tonight.

“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself, stabbing your straw through the cherry in your drink.

“Whoa,” said a voice at your shoulder. “What’d that cherry do to you?”

“Jake!” you gasped, whirling around to see him leaning casually against the bar right next to you. His hair was tousled and his tie was loosened, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone and exposing a sizable stretch of muscled, tan chest. His eyes were shining, and his cheeks were rosy. In short, he looked about as tipsy as you felt.

“Why haven’t I seen you all night?” he asked, shifting a little closer. 

“Trust me,” you said, “I’ve been around. You’ve just been busy, is all.”

His eyes lit up and he beamed. “Have you been keeping track of me?”

Fuck. “No.” You wiggled on your stool, moving out of his personal space to try and clear your head. You waved your hand in his direction. “You’re just very…noticeable.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s not better! 

“You know, I’ve been told that before,” said Jake smoothly, accepting his whiskey from the bartender with a cool nod and taking a long drink, watching you over the rim of the glass. He motioned towards the cocktail in your hand. “Has this been your night, then? Drowning your sorrows at the bar because your best friend just married someone else?”

“Oh, my god, no!” You laughed, shaking your head. “Would you quit it with this ‘I’m-in-love-with-Bradley’ line?”

Jake held up his hands in a ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ position. “You said the thing about him not wanting to introduce us, not me.”

“That is not what I said.”

Before you could argue more, Jake leaned in close—so close your breath caught in your throat and you felt yourself paralyzed by those green eyes again. He smelled like whiskey, but it worked for him. He said, “D’you wanna dance with me?”

"Are you hitting on me?” you asked.

"I was hoping you’d pick up on that,” he said.

You coughed, taking a long sip from your cocktail before shrugging. “Okay.”

He downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp, which was an impressive feat since he probably still had two fingers left in the glass. Then he grabbed your drink out of your hand and placed it on the bar before leading you by the arm to the dance floor, where they were playing some classic love song—Here Comes My Girl by Tom Petty, you thought. One of his hands splayed firmly across your waist, and a swarm of butterflies burst into life in your stomach, but you tried to play it cool.

“When’s the last time you danced?” he asked, the judgment in his tone clear.

“I’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you muttered, staring at your feet in concentration. “Gimme a minute.”

But a strong pair of fingers caught your chin, lifting your head till you had no choice but to look Jake square in the eyes. You were positive he could hear your heart pounding, sure he caught the way your breath hitched at the touch. But he just smiled, using the hand on your waist to help sway you to the music and said, “Don’t think. Just do.”

“You are unbelievable,” you heard yourself say.

“I get that a lot,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes and allowed him to lead you in a close, swaying dance, trying not to focus on the lyrics too much. Or on the fact that his cologne smelled really good, especially mixed with the whiskey. Or on his fingers at the base of your spine, or the way his other hand had twined your fingers together nonchalantly, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You started talking before you could think twice about what it was you were saying. “Before, when I said you’re the type of guy Rooster would have warned me to stay away from, I didn’t mean it’s ‘cause he was protective of me, or there was history there, or anything like that.”

“Oh really?” His voice rumbled in his chest, reverberating through you. God, he made it hard to focus.

“Uh-huh,” you said.

“Well, then what would the reason have been?” He squeezed your hand, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel his breath on the side of your face.

You swallowed. “Because he knew you were exactly the type of guy I would have gone for.”

You felt more than saw Jake’s smile. “Is that so?”

“And you’d break my heart,” you went on, “and Rooster’d have to pick up the pieces.”

Jake didn’t have a snarky report ready for that. He kept swaying you, but it felt a little less self-assured now, a little more cautious, and strangely, more intimate. You let your eyes fall shut, trusting him not to let you fall, and enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, dancing to a classic Tom Petty tune at your mutual friend’s wedding.

“So what now?” Jake asked finally, drawing you back into the moment.

You blinked your eyes open and pulled just far enough away so you could look him in his eyes. “I don’t know,” you said softly, allowing yourself a tiny smirk. “Are you gonna break my heart, Jake?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly, and you were surprised to see the confident facade had fallen away. It must have been the booze, you thought. It had to be the booze.

His eyes darted down to your lips before moving back up.

You really did smile then, wrapping both of your arms around his neck so that he could hold you fully by the waist. “Guess there’s just one way to find out,” you teased lightly. 

His stare was hot and intense, sending shivers up and down your spine. “Do you want to get out of here?” asked Jake.

You threw your head back and laughed before settling in his arms, resting your head on his chest. His arms tightened around you, and you said, “Let’s finish the song first.”

And you did.

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

i thin o of u each time i listen to usher<33333

USHER??? why's that anon, is it because of our #millenial-ness ? or maybe because usher and i are both libra sun with mercury & mars in scorpiO? now let me talk about usher for a moment here..*sitting in my rocking chair lighting a corncob pipe* usher....reminds me of school dances in 2004, usher woud come on and all the girlies in their aeropostale miniskirts & blue eyeshadow wld be tryna "CRUMP "crump" up on each other, meanwhile i wld be sooo uncomfy against the wall observing like fuck dude i wish i was plaiying neopets rn. but i loved the tunes i think usher was some of the first music i downloaded from limewire. i loved the song MY BOO. & there was a lot of good usher midi on ppls webpages too especially the song BURN.. queue to 2008 where i was #edgy and i loathed#conformist #mainstream media like very authentically inspired by the south park goth kids. but then usher dropped LOVE IN THIS CLUB and i cldnt resist the sound of it. so me & my bestie wld always play that song "ironically" in between our playlists of crystal castles & mgmt, throw in a little usher cus were RaNd0M but like..it wasnt acutaly ironic...we just REALLY loved that song. that was when pop music started getting so fcking good for a second there like ugh 2010 usher/pitbull/young money,. will-i-am n whatnot.. my favorite usher quote? gotta be "happy easter x-box."

[cyarskj52]

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LADIES LEAVE YOUR MAN AT HOME 10:01 A.M.

Keke Palmer’s Boyfriend Who?

By Zoe Guy, a news writer who covers film, TV, music, and celebrities

It’s tough to earn the title of one of the most embarrassing boyfriends on the planet, what with so many viable contenders running rampant across the globe, but Keke Palmer’s boyfriend managed to edge out the competition when his stupid tweet criticizing the mother of his child’s outfit at an Usher concert had the domino effect of unearthing even more absolutely unsavory tweets in July. Palmer took the unfortunate event in stride, released “I’m a Motha” merch reclaiming her boyfriend’s phrase meant to make her feel bad about having fun when she has a kid, and now, she’s starring in Usher’s new music video inspired by the headlines. “Boyfriend,” out August 16, has an “it’s Usher, baby”–inflected EDM sound, and it capitalizes on the insecure-boyfriend narrative. “You tryna be on your best behavior, loving me on the low,” Usher sings. “Somebody said that yo boyfriend’s looking for me, that’s cool.”

In the music video, Palmer fictionalizes that fateful girls’ trip to Vegas to see Usher’s residency at Park MGM. She parties with her friends and sings along to the 2001 hit “U Remind Me” in the elevator. She even dresses like Usher — fresh Ones, white tee, aviator glasses — and does some choreo with the singer at a casino. The morning after, she answers her boyfriend’s call and pretends like she didn’t just have the night of her life. “I’m a mother, after all,” she tells him. It’s seven o’clock on the dotand Usher’s calling.

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[calebyap]

2022 in Review

As I spent the morning in reflection on the year past, I observed the following highlights and lessons. On 1 Jan 2022, I wrote: “if 2020 was the year of Disruption, and 2021 was the year of Delay, will 2022 be the year of Discovery?”

Highlights: 

The growth of babies in our lives from infants into toddlers. They bring us so much joy.

On the flip side, bereavements. The passing of my paternal grandfather and material grandmother have left me now with no living grandparents. We also said farewell to one we call “Grandma”. The remaining nonagenarian in our lives is frail and has relocated from his home of forty years.

New work happenings, especially by establishing the new clinic. The open house was held on 15 January 2022. On my long course new vistas were opened and new insights into self, work and ministry were gleaned. For me, the next work steps for the year to come now seem to be congealing.

The April trip to the States was another milestone. The feeling of closing one door, and cautiously opening a new one in this post-COVID world was palpable. We also heard teaching on “The Last Word” at the final T4G and said a poignant goodbye to a dear elderly friend. How will we be Together For The Gospel now?

Meanwhile ministry at home was also challenging. I began another three year term in leadership. But many things were not as I hoped: U-turns, backtracking, and conflict. Why does God allow such internal squabbles? Am I to blame? 

There were new opportunities for service. Starting a coffee and tea team at church, bringing CGs together in zones as we regathered, and forming a new interim group will take us into the new year. 

How could we miss out on RefCon 2022? It was so good to do creative work again. Grateful for the many singers, musicians, sound and AV team, artists, ushers and other volunteers who came together to support this beautiful project of music and song. It was a blessing to do our fourth RefCon notwithstanding the uncertainties of all that came with it. It was a lesson in faith, to trust the Lord and nothing, no one else.

Speaking of uncertainty - this year we also got COVID, maybe twice. I got boosted, also twice. Mercifully, all of it was mild and the storm seems to be passing.

Opportunities to proclaim the Word were also opportunities to hear the Word. God weaves our broken stories in a tapestry of grace, like Judah and Joseph in the story of Jesus. God cares about our fruitfulness as He plans to conform us into Christ. The Christian has a wealth of reasons for joy, not least the strong reasons in Christ’s first and second advent. While I stepped back in my small group, I’m so glad W has continued to lead faithfully with fruit. These too are at an end.

We deepened friendships: cherished old friends we travelled also going through change and transition, newer older friends we have grown to deeply respect, elderly friends who hear us out over spontaneous drinks, younger friends who seek out counsel and inspire us with their faith.

I thought more about our parents this year. How do we walk with them in these latter years as frailty and flaws become starker? How do we help them transit in life stage and what do we do when they act out? How do we help them grow in repentance and faith and godly living?

Thoughts of joy were on our mind in year-end travel. We were in awe of the natural majesty and glory of creation of New Zealand. Seoul and Busan in Korean winter was magical, and feasting with friends was magnificent. But the spectre of history and war was a reminder that many still seek that peace on earth and goodwill to man. 

So what did I learn in this supposed year of Discovery? I discovered that:

“Aun Aprendo” has to be a daily prayer as I learnt of the Spanish painter Goya from Chief. Even in old age, still, we learn.

God is indeed sovereign over the nations in our day. He has good purposes still to fulfil and He will oppose every variant of human pride. Perhaps ours truly is the age of punctuated equilibrium. Rulers and world leaders are shown to be mortal: Queen Elizabeth II, Mikhail Gorbachev, Shinzo Abe and Jiang Zemin. Sorry Francis Fukuyama, we can see clearly that we have not reached the “End of History”: the unthinkable return of war to Europe since WWII and the chilling prospect of growing nuclear threat; re-emerging tensions between the US, China and Taiwan as well as on the Korean peninsular; the collective internal weaknesses in the US, Russia and China, the tragicomedy that is the UK; the decline of Big Tech and the follies of the richest men in the world (Musk, Bezos). God truly is sovereign! 

In our day we are still called to believe and live by “faith alone”. We must never turn from justification back to work’s righteousness or the temptation to be right. Galatians and Isaiah 24-35 teach that our trust must be in God alone. 

Our emotions should not be feared, avoided or neglected. Make time to go deep, to understand the heart level - the ultimate centre of our emotions and decisions. 

Relationships are a ripe ground to come alongside others in ministry. We should better equip ourselves to speak about sanctification in the context of singleness, dating, marriage and family life.

The goodness of God really is for joy. He is good, and He has been good to us in Christ. Edwards was absolutely right when he wrote: “There is an infinite fullness of all possible good in God, a fullness of every perfection, of all excellency and beauty, and of infinite happiness.”

So if 2020 was the year of Disruption, 2021 was the year of Delay and 2022 was the year of Discovery, will 2023 be the year for Developing? What will God develop in us:

New life?

New work?

New calling?

New challenges?

New fruit?

New relationships?

New dreams?

New joy?

[darklymelanatedstories]

Another weird sad story coming up hot.

This is a sequel of Heartbreak. If you haven't read that part yet then I suggest you do so before torturing yourself with this.

This is my first Piccolo x reader and enjoy.

You remind me (ft Piccolo)

Your eyes widened in shock as your lips met his. You couldn't believe it. He actually kissed you. Piccolo. Kissed. You! After the shock had subsided, you closed your eyes and enjoyed the surprising softness of his emerald lips. Wrapping your arms around him, you eased into the kiss...but it didn't last. The moment was abruptly ended and you were carefully pushed off of him. You stared up at him in confusion.

"What's wrong?",you asked. And actually it kinda frustrated you. For weeks he's been on and off and you weren't sure how to keep up with his change of emotions. He touched his bottom lip before looking back at you. The cold expression he gave you told you that you weren't gonna get the explanation you wanted.

"This was a mistake.",he said bluntly.

"What?" You couldn't believe it. You thought he had actually given you a chance when he took you in his arms and hungrily pressed his lips against yours.

"This, everything, was all a mistake." His cape whisked in the wind as he turned his back on you. You were so confused. "I'm sorry.",he said.

You quickly took his hand before he could get a chance to take off. "Wait."

He tried to pull his arm away but your superhuman grip made it a bit hard. "(Y/n) let go of me. I don't love you." Those words hurt worse than all the beatings you got from training. Deja vu hit the Namekian hard. He's lived through this scenario before. Only this time the roles are reversed.

"Piccolo, look at me.",you said. All the more reason not to look at you. "Look at me!",you demanded, louder this time. And this time he did so. He slowly turned to look at you and immediately his heart shattered like once before but for a different reason. The pain in your eyes.

"Say it."

He looked confused at your statement. "Say what?"

"Say that you don't love me. Look me in the eyes and say it."

He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. "It's just four words Piccolo."

"I...I can't." He hung his head. He mentally cursed the day he was born on this ratchet planet. Humans were exhausting to be around.

"You can't?" Your grip tightened on his arm. "I don't understand you. You kissed me, you–"

You were silenced with another surprise kiss. It was his special way of shutting you up that day. "I can't say it when I know the real truth but the reason I love you might not be right."

"I don't understand."

Piccolo sighed. "See the thing about you that caught my eye is the same thing that makes me change my mind. It's kinda hard to explain but you deserve an explanation so I'll try."

You let go of his hand and he sat on the grass. "You need to sit down this may take a while." He patted the spot next to him and you reluctantly sat next to him. You waited patiently as you knew he wasn't one to spill his out his feelings so easily.

He looked up at the night sky and took a deep breath. "See there's this girl–" A gasp involuntarily escaped your lips. Piccolo gave you a worried look but you nodded your head slowly, encouraging him to carry on.

Looking back at the stars he continued.

"You remind me of a girl that I once knew. I see her face whenever I, I look at you. Wouldn't believe all the things she put me through." What he said next really slapped you I'm the face. "This is why I just can't be with you."

"See she sorta looks just like you." You saw a small smile appear on his face. "She even smiles just the way you do. So innocent she seemed," The smile is soon replaced by a scowl. "But I was fooled." He turns his head and his onyx eyes meet yours. "I'm reminded when I look at you."

You knew what was coming next and you honestly hadn't been prepared for it. You didn't know if you were angrier that his heart was damaged when it got to you or that someone else had it before you.

"(Y/n), you're amazing, sweet, strong, beautiful. You're really everything a Demon prince could ask for."

"But you can't bear to be with someone who's the same as the one who broke you. That's why you won't even give me a chance?!",you yelled. You couldn't be more offended.

"I know it's so unfair to you." He reached out to touch your arm but you slapped his hand away. He could see you were hurt and that hurt him even more but he couldn't risk having his heart broken. Not again. He felt an odd familiarity with you. He wanted you yet couldn't let you in. "I wish I knew how to seperate the two."

"Then why kiss me?",you asked.

He felt ashamed of the reason, that in a way he just wanted to feel close to her again. The only reason he hasn't pushed you away completely is because he needed her likeness around.

You couldn't bare to hear anymore. You got up and as soon as you did, Piccolo grabbed your arm. "Please just let me–"

"We're done here Piccolo." You weren't even sure he felt anything. He hid his feelings really well. All there was a plastered facade of an emotionless monster. You loved him, but his heart belonged to another.

You felt his energy spike and his hand feel like lava against your sensitive skin. You gasped and he immediately let go of your hand.

"You're not afraid to love Piccolo. Your heart is reserved for another. If you still see her in me, then it means you've still been lying to yourself this whole time."

The look on his face told you that your suspicions were correct. "I hope...I–goodbye Piccolo."

As soon as your back was facing him, hot tears streamed down your face. You immediately took to the skies and left him there with his hand still extended as if he was trying to reach you.

"Damnit.",he growled. He let himself fall onto the ground and focused on the stars above him. He learnt to deal with his emotions pretty well after that heartbreaking day. It didn't take too long to hide them but solving them was the real problem.

He thought your words over and over. He realised that his obsession with her, his never ending bitter love for her was holding him back. Back from all the good things in his life. His friends that he never spoke to ever since then, his concerned former pupil that he always shut away from whenever he tried to comfort Piccolo, Pan who was like his second child and you. The one person who he only opened up to. He hated how you could turn him into a teddy bear, how you laughed at stupid things, how you sang and danced like no one was watching, the playful glares you gave as you sparred, how you loved to place flower crowns on his head and climb on his lap as he meditated...how a part of you reminded him of her!

He couldn't do it anymore.

~

You had your head buried in the pillow that was soaked in your tears. You truly couldn't explain the pain you felt.

You were startled by a light tapping on your window. You quickly wiped your tears away and went over to open the curtains. You're met with annoyance, relief and shock all at the same time.

You're ready to close the curtains and go back to the comfort of your bed but his eyes plead with you to let him in.

You give in and decide to open the window for him, you knew he'd break it open if you didn't anyway. As he swiftly flies through the window you cross your arms and avoid eye contact so he can't see your puffy red eyes but it was probably too late.

"(Y/n), I'm sorry. I just–I guess–I just...what I'm trying to say,"he stammered. He wasn't really good at these things.

"Just say what you wanna say damnit!",you snapped at him. As he looked into your eyes you could see he was broken, just looking at you in your depressed state made him want to shoot a special beam at himself.

He sighed and before you knew it, you were grabbed by the hand and pulled into his arms. Tears streamed down your face as you hugged back.

You two stayed in each other's arms the whole night. No words were spoken and that was just perfect. When you woke up in his arms the next day you knew that his heart belonged to you because you're the one that fixed it.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

CAPPYS DECADE CHALLENGE

It’s absolutely been forever since I made a writing challenge and I’ve been wanting more fics to read, so alas, here’s a new one for y’all.

updated on April 4 2024 to allow for ANY character you'd like!

Rules:

It’s not necessary to follow me, but it’s always appreciated

There are no deadlines, but please keep me updated on your fics.

Tag the fic #cappysdecadeschallenge

Also tag me in the authors notes (along with the hashtag so I know which Masterlist to place the fic when I post it)

Please tag the proper warnings before the fic

CAN BE ANY CHARACTER YOU HAVE INSPIRATION FOR!!

More than one person can write for the prompts

No RPFs

If this happens to get more reblogs/ participants than I expect I’ll add more songs to each decade.

If you’d like to write for more than one song, please make them separate fics

Can be however long you’d like the fic to be. (If it’s more than 450 words PLEASE use the keep reading feature.

If I do not respond to your fic being posted in 24hours of you posting the fic, please message me a link.

Send me an ask or a DM with your prompt and the character you’re writing for.

50s

I’ve Got You Under My Skin— frank sinatra

Dream A Little Dream of Me —Ella Fitzgerald $ Louis Armstrong

Put Your Head on my Shoulder- Paul Anka

Stupid Cupid- Connie Francis

Pennies From Heaven —- Louis prima

I’m Gonna Get Married —Lloyd Price

Your Cheatin’ Heart — Hank Williams

I Walk The Line — Johnny Cash

We Belong Together — Ritchie Valens

Tears On My Pillow — Little Anthony

60s

My Girl — The Temptations

When a Man Loves a Woman —- Percy sledge

Stand By Me — Ben E. King

Build Me Up Buttercup —- the Foundations

I want you back —- the Jackson 5

I want to hold your hand —- the Beatles

You can’t hurry love -- the supremes

I can’t help myself — four tops

Then he kissed me— the crystals

Can’t help falling in love— Elvis Presley

70s

Dancing Queen— ABBA

I can see clearly now— Johnny Nash

December 1963 — the four seasons

I want you back — the Jackson five

Ain’t no sunshine — bill withers

Jolene — Dolly Parton

You’re so vain — Carly Simon

September — Earth, wind, and fire

Edge of seventeen — Stevie Nicks

80s

Love Shack — b-52s

Jesse’s girl — Rick Springfield

Dancing in the dark — Bruce Springsteen

Africa — ToTo

Never Gonna Give You Up — Rick Astley

Only in my dreams — Debbie Gibson

Careless Whisper — George Michael

Call Me — Blondie

Bohemian Rhapsody— Queen

You to me are everything — the real thing

I got lucky — Elvis Presley

90s

Wonderwall — Oasis

No scrubs — TLC

Fantasy — Mariah Carey

Say my name — Destiny's Child

Waterfalls — TLC

Remember the time — Michael Jackson

Two Princes — Spin Doctors

Torn — Natalie Imbruglia

Iris — Goo Goo Dolls

Kiss From a Rose — Seal

00’s

My Boo — usher, Alicia keys

Not Over You — Gavin DeGraw

Grenade — Bruno Mars

Home — Phillip Phillips

You Found Me — The Fray

Bleeding love — Leona Lewis

Irreplaceable — Beyoncé

Since You’ve Been Gone— Kelly Clarkson

This Love — Maroon 5

If I Ain’t Got You — Alicia Keys

U Remind Me — Usher

I Don't Wanna Be — Gavin DeGraw

‘10s

Diamonds — Rihanna

Talk — Khalid

You Belong With Me — Taylor Swift

Lucky — Jason Mraz

Shape Of You — Ed Sheeran

Treat You Better — Shawn Mendes

Just Give Me a Reason — P!NK

What Do You Mean? — Justin Bieber

Shut Up and Dance — WALK THE MOON

Someone Like You — Adele

no tears left to cry — Ariana Grande

We Don’t Talk Anymore — Charlie Puth

Delicate — Taylor Swift

[writercole]

Millennial Mixtape Challenge

This year has been a lot of things for me - the realization that I’m getting old (I have a teenager), the publication of my first book, losing count of the amount of times I’ve watched Sons of Anarchy (I swear I’m in the double digits now), admitting to liking Tom Cruise in a movie. AND I’ve hit a thousand followers. Quadruple digits. 

In honor of this achievement, I’m putting together the Millennial Mixtape challenge. I had these songs on either a burned cd that I [redacted] songs for or a cassette tape that I [redacted] the songs off the radio for. I remember sitting in front of my stereo with a blank cassette in and ready…listening to American Top 40 with Kasey Kasem to get these songs. And he always talked over either the beginning or the end of the song.

Yes, I had trouble remembering the name and artist of these songs. Yes, I did google some of them. I did tell you I was getting old. 

Special shoutouts to: @moosekateer13​ for helping me remember some of these songs; @caplanbuckybarnes​ for promoting me so much on your own blog; @fictional-affairs​ for allowing me to corrupt our favorite characters so much; @jensengirl83​, @creatively-analytical​, @saiyanprincessswanie​, and @deangirl93​ for being their normal supportive, wonderful selves.

Anyway - Rules:

No underage smut, no toilet play. Those are hard lines and I won’t reblog them.

Write for whoever you want otherwise. I don’t care. Maybe you’ll introduce me to a new fandom, who knows.

Moodboards are allowed. If a moodboard inspires you to write a fic, tag the creator of the board as you inspo.

No deadline. For sign ups, for submissions. Hell, this is pretty much a perpetual challenge, I guess. 

More songs will be added as we go. 

No limit to participants per song.

No min or max words.

Write me something inspired by the song.

Lyrics do not have to be included but are a nice touch.

I just ask that you tag me in whatever you write.

Playlist here

My taste in music is diverse, to say the least, so there should be something on here for everyone!

Heartbreak Hotel - Whitney Houston ft Faith Evans & Kelly Price

Fantasy - Mariah Carey

Gangsta’s Paradise - Coolio

Baby, Baby - Amy Grant

Creep - TLC

Incomplete - Sisqo

Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes

I Can Tell - 504 Boys

The Real Slim Shady - Eminem

How You Remind Me - Nickelback

Where My Girls At - 702

Hey Ma - Cam’ron

Get Low - Lil Jon and the East Side Boys

Float On - Modest Mouse

Differences - Ginuwine

Complicated - Avril Lavigne

Unfoolish - Ashanti

Mesmerize - Ja Rule

I Go Back - Kenny Chesney

Pony - Ginuwine

In Da Club - 50 Cent

Family Affair - Mary J. Blige

Bottom of a Bottle - Smile Empty Soul

Halo - Soil

Truly, Madly, Deeply - Savage Garden

If Your Girl Only Knew - Aaliyah

Say My Name - Destiny’s Child

That Butt Thing - Horace Trahan and the Ossun Express

Platinum in the Ghetto - Lil Keke

Clocks - Cold Play

Straight Lines - Silverchair

Get Your Freak On - Missy Elliot

Sexy Back - Justin Timberlake

Slow Jamz - Twista

Milkshake - Kelis

Ms Jackson - Outkast

Brass Monkey - Beastie Boys

Toxic -  Britney Spears

As Long As You Love Me - Backstreet Boys

Come As You Are - Nirvana

Wait & Bleed - Slipknot

Last Nite - The Strokes

In The End - Linkin Park

Dilemma - Nelly ft. Kelly Rowland

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Greenday

Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

Fallin - Alicia Keys

Low - Flo Rida

I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry - @downanddirtydean​

I Want You Back - *Nsync

Need You Now - Lady A

Nice & Slow - Usher

Picture - Kid Rock & Sheryl Crow

I’ll Be - Edwin McCain

Break Down Here - Julie Roberts

Let Her Cry - Hootie & The Blowfish

Are You Gonna Be My Girl - Jet

Beautiful Mess - Diamond Rio

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Welcome To The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

I Believe in a Thing Called Love - The Darkness

U Got It Bad - Usher

Raise Up - Petey Pablo

Falling Away From Me - Korn

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence

Country Grammar - Nelly

Waterfalls - TLC

No Scrubs - TLC

Thong Song - Sisqo

Bye Bye Bye - *Nsync

What a Girl Wants - Christina Aguilera

Get the Party Started - Pink

Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-a-lot

This is How We Do It - Montell Jordan

Tearin’ Up My Heart - *Nsync

You make Me Wanna - Usher

Summer Girls - LFO

Absolutely - Nine Days

Jumpin’ Jumpin’ - Destiny’s Child

Right Thurr - Chingy

Dirrty - Christina Aguilera

What Would You Do? - City High

No Diggity - Blackstreet

I’m Real (ft. Ja Rule) - Jennifer Lopez

Ghetto Supastar - Pras, ODB

Let’s Get Married - Jagged Edge

Come On Over Baby - Christina Aguilera

Tipsy - J-Kwon

Ice Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice

There You Go - Pink

Holidae In - Chingy

Work It - Missy Elliot

Too Close - Next

The Way You Move - Outkast

Girl On TV - LFO

Crazy - Britney Spears

Dip It Low - Christina Milian

Jump - Kris Kross

Always On Time - Ja Rule

I Do!! - Toya

I wanna sex you up - Color Me Badd

Faded - SoulDescision

I wanna be bad - Willa Ford

He Loves You Not - Dream

Who Let The Dogs Out - Baha Men

I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace

Pain - Three Days Grace

Riot - Three Days Grace

Teardrops on My Guitar - Taylor Swift

Picture To Burn - Taylor Swift

Should’ve Said No - Taylor Swift

Monster - Skillet

Rebirthing - Skillet

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin

Polyamorous - Breaking Benjamin

Hot in Herre - Nelly

What’s Your Fantasy - Ludacris

Genie in a Bottle - Christina Aguilera

Miss Independent - Kelly Clarkson

My Baby - Lil’ Romeo

Where the Party At - Jagged Edge

Crazy - K-Ci and JoJo

Back Here - BB Mak

Candy - Mandy Moore

Larger than Life - Backstreet Boys

Shoot me an ask or DM or reblog to let me know if you’re participating! Obviously I’m all about the writers!

[shorkbrian]

THIS ISNT AN ASK I JUST GOT INSPIRED LOOKING AT YOUR TINGSSS; (Prohero) Yan Kiri responding to his (kidnapped) darlings' birthday request: Just do what they say for the day. Darling had to suck dick LONG AND HARD for this very special birthday wish, and spends the day dancing around the garden in a dress that they FINALLY got to choose themselves (the longest one they own) with gorgeous, full coverage underwear on. (1/2)

“This isn't an ask” then why it in my ask box hoe (Lolol I’m sorry I write what I see hope u don’t mind)

(What to expect - Cunnilingous, dubcon, noncon, NSFW, sexy birthday gift)

Yes you had to suck his dick, not to be allowed to wear the dress (Kirishima’s a sucker, and he likes seeing his baby in pretty little dresses that make them look all innocent), but to have him promise to not pin and fuck you the second she put it on (or at any point during your special day, just one day without sex, please? ur pussy needs a mf break)

Because it’s your birthday, Kirishima lets you order a dress online, sat in his lap of course, while he offers feedback.

“That one’s pretty.”

“Oo, you’d look so gorgeous in that color, you should get that one!”

“Eh, this one doesn’t seem like you, let’s look at a different one babe.”

“This is cute, but don’t you think it’s a little long? You might trip.”

His advice was unwarranted and mostly unwanted, hands distracting you by playing with your hair, kissing at your exposed shoulder while you scrolled through the options.

You finally decided on a dress, begging Kirishima to allow you to buy underwear as well to go with it. Kiri got excited for a second, and of course said yes, only to get confused and laugh when you added comfortable, un-sexy underwear to the cart.

But a promise is a promise, so everything gets purchased.

And the morning of your birthday, you get presented with the dress, the underwear, and breakfast in bed, which is slightly burnt, but the effort is somewhat appreciated.

Kirishima doesn’t bother you when you head to the shower (usually he follows you everywhere like an oversized puppy, and showers are never completed without his wandering hands and wet kisses), just smiles at you forlornly as he keeps his end of the “no touching” agreement for the day.

He doesn’t make you sit in his lap, or even next to him while you eat your breakfast in bed.

You don’t have his hands constantly touching you, wrapped around your waist, heavy on your shoulder, playing with your hair or skimming along your thigh.

Kirishima’s taken the day off, just so he can spend it with you, and he’s so glad. You’re laughing at his stupid jokes, you seem comfortable and relaxed, cheeks rosy, eyes bright, and the man has never been so in love.

It’s obvious that he’s struggling to hold himself back from grabbing you - his fingers itch, his smile is strained, he can’t stop staring at you in that dress. But he had promised, and you took advantage of that.

Flouncing around his bulky form, swishing your dress, giving an enthusiastic twirl that maybe showed off a bit more of your legs than was considered modest.

Teasing him about the slight bulge in his pants that appeared after a little bit of flirting, feeling safe because he wasn’t allowed to touch you.

You were shameless about the flirting too, a sort of confidence filling you and making you giggly and feel light, even though you weren’t exactly fond of the man you were flirting with on account of all the things he had done to you. 

Kiri tried to convince you to stop, joking along with you at first but then quickly growing serious as you amped up your playful seductiveness, feeling powerful and in control because he couldn’t touch you no matter what.

His words were ignored, and you continued to live your best life, dancing around, licking food off of your finger with a mean smile, letting out little breathy moans whenever you stretched.

And the best part? Kirishima just had to sit there and take it. Just like he had forced you to accept his affection, you now forced him to accept the fact that you were wholly in reach, but absolutely off-limits.

That evening, you get ushered out to the garden, which Kirishima had “decorated” for you.

Technically, it was your garden, something for you to work on and occupy yourself with while Kirishima was off working. It wasn’t much, but you’d done your best with taking care of the plants.

Kiri had hung little twinkly lights in the trees, stringing them between the branches. He had set up a little table underneath the lights, a small cake, a bouquet of flowers, a few candles here and there.

It was romantic, and your heart swelled at the sight. In any other situation, this would be the absolute best birthday in the entire world. But today you wanted to be happy, so you didn’t think about all the reasons for why it wasn’t.

The two of you sat and ate cake, Kirishima recounting how many times he’d gotten cake slapped in his face by trying to surprise Bakugou on his birthday. You laughed, almost choking on cake, which made you laugh harder at the ungodly noise that left your throat.

You talked about your garden, animatedly gesturing to the various plants, explaining how you took care of them and what you still needed to work on. Kirishima listened intently, smiling at you.

He interrupted you in the middle of a story about your life growing up, holding a bite of cake towards you on his fork. Without thinking (he had been very insistent at first that he hand-feed you), you leaned across the table, opening your mouth and accepting the food.

You made eye contact, Kirishima’s eyes flicking down to your mouth, the way your lips stretched around the fork, the pink of your tongue as it accepted the bite. A moan was uttered, a smile teasing your lips as you licked at the frosting around your lips, bringing a thumb up to swipe it clean, sucking the digit into your mouth while moaning about how good it tastes.

And then Kirishima was breathing hard, red eyes locked on your own, calmly putting down his fork.

You immediately recognized what was going on, started rising from your seat the same time Kiri rose from his, holding your hands out and reminding the man of his promise. 

But he was done, you’d teased him all day. Enough was enough.

He grabbed your arm before you could even think about moving away, jerking you to him to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting the subtle hint of sweetness on your tongue.

As soon as he pulled away, you were admonishing him, saying he promised, telling him to stop touching you, he’s such a jerk.

But he had a one-track mind, picking you up to settle your weight in one hand, forearm under your rear as he cleared a space on the table quickly.

Then you were getting sat down on top of it, Kiri sitting back down in his chair as he pulled your hips to edge, quickly rucking up your dress.

“Kirishima! You-you promised! Stop, you said you wouldn't!” You cried, trying to push his hands away, push his head back, stop him from revealing your underwear, but he was determined.

“Sorry baby, I just can’t help myself.” Was the offered explanation while he pulled down your underwear, managing to get it off one of your kicking legs before giving up and letting it dangle off of one ankle.

He hunched over immediately, large hands gripping and angling your hips up so he could reach your pussy, licking over it messily. There was no technique, no rhythm, the man just wanted to taste you, practically drooling over your cunt.

You cried out, hands pulling at his hair, making him grunt, but he couldn’t be moved from between your plush thighs.

“You said-ah! Don’t Kiri-” You whined, resigning yourself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let up. “It’s my birthday, I-I didn’t want you touching me....”

Kirishima pulled back a little, brows furrowed. He reached over to the cake, your eyes following his hand as he scooped up a glob of frosting.

No, he wouldn’t-

He would.

“No!” You yelped, but his grip on your hip was firm as he slapped the handful of frosting onto your cunt. You keened at the odd sensation, the cool frosting quickly being heated by your warm skin, beginning to melt.

“Birthday girl, you’re all messy, gotta clean you up-” The man breathed, diving back down the suck at your skin, tongue enthusiastically licking up the frosting, your juices with it.

All you could do was cry.

He ate you out until the frosting was cleaned from you cunt, until your skin was shiny and slick with spit and your own creamy juices. By the time he seemed satisfied, you were shaking, thighs bracketing his hand while they trembled and convulsed at each eager lave of his tongue over your swollen slit.

It began raining, the soft pitter-patter droplets easily hiding the streaking of tears down your face.

Kirishima didn’t seem too phased, merely standing, pulling you into his arms and striding towards the door.

You could see the little area Kirishima had set up for your birthday, lights beginning to drop out of trees from the wind, the cake getting ruined by the elements, the scene quickly dissolving into a mess.

And Kirishima had barely gotten started with you.

[taegyuun]

月が綺麗ですね?

request: Can I request a ni-ki fluff where u both are besties but love each other and u try to confess but ur to shy so he kisses u ?🥺💗

word count: 1.5k+

note: his outfit is inspired by what he wore in his lie cover and italics are your thoughts :) 月が綺麗ですね means “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” which is a more poetic saying of “i love you” in japanese

it was a around 4 pm and the sun was beginning to set. you promised to yourself that one last time, before riki left for a few months to go to a dance company, you’d see the sunset with him for old times sake.

but a teenager needs their sleep, right? right. so you overslept through your alarm.

you look at your phone in disbelief for a few seconds, letting your half asleep brain render what you’ve done. and then once you realise that the sun would be setting in 30 minutes, you scramble out of bed - legs still tangeled in your sheets and run to your wardrobe, pulling out a random hoodie that coincidentally belonged to the boy you were meant to be meeting in about 15 minutes.

you pull it over year head before checking yourself in the mirror and deeming your messy outfit enough, he is my best friend, you think to yourself.

ah yes, here’s that word again - best friend.

it was a cliché trope, the one where one of the two friends fall for the other and they either suck it up and deal with their feelings till they move on and possibly miss their chance at one of their best things in life or they confess and potentially ruin their friendship. you were a brave one, or at least that’s what you told yourself, and you decided it was the best choice to finally get your feelings out in the open - hoping they would be reciprocated.

and hey, if it didn’t work out, at least you wouldn’t have to see him for a month minimum and that would give you time to get over the embarrassment of ruining your tight knit friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts with a shake of your head and the sound of a message coming from your phone - it was from riki.

riki :D : hey u comin? 16:08

y/n <3 : hi yeah sorry got caught up with sumn 16:08

riki :D : alrighty i’m waiting outside 16:10

you furrow your brows at the message. outside? you both planned on meeting in the field and stuff yourself with your favourite food one last time before he had to stick to a diet - but you didn’t question it further and quickly ran down the stairs ready to run out the door to see your best friend.

instead, you’re met with your mother gushing over him in the kitchen and your father congratulating him on his future career - even as a 15 year old. it was common sense that your parents liked him, you’ve been best friends since elementary school but what you didn’t expect was your mother almost at the brink of bursting into obnoxious tears at the thought of the nishimura riki leaving okayama and her child behind.

to be quiet frank, she was completely more bothered about the fact that riki was leaving okayama, more so than the fact that he was also leaving you behind - she loved him as if he were her own son. “remember to call us ok? tell us how it’s going.” she gripped his shoulders tightly before caressing his face and pulling him into a tight hug. he quickly wrapped his arms back around her, reciprocating the feeling of homesickness even though he hadn’t left yet, before muttering a, “don’t worry, i’ll make sure to call everyday.”

he shared another hug with your dad, more manly than the one with your mum before your mother saw you waiting at the stairs, ushering you to come forward before shoving a bag full of snacks for you two. “make sure to stay safe with riki and don’t go wandering too far - oh also don’t stay out too late... have fun!” before she shoved the both of you out the door, quite stunned.

you then open the bag, seeing it full of yours and his favourite snacks and some... hearts? flowers? what on earth-

“hey, come on slowass... let’s go before it gets too dark,” rikis voice calls out before he softly grips your hand and tugs you along, a bright smile spreading across his face. “what are you wearing?” you look at his outfit and see him covered in a slightly large white dress shirt and black jeans. he looked... put together.

“oh this? i had a dance cover i had to do today, ignore it.” you usually wouldn’t pay attention to what he wore - especially if it was for his dance covers but what you couldn’t ignore was the slight blush that dusted his pale cheeks. is it because i’m wearing his hoodie? no that can’t be it. he never minded before - actually he was always the one to hand you his hoodies. so what could it be?

“let’s sit here, it’s a good spot for the sunset,” he pats the spot of grass next to him on the hill, indicating for you to take a seat. you place the bag at his feet before sitting down onto the cool grass, feeling it tickle at your ankles. 4:33 pm. the sun should be setting right about now-

“riki, uhm, uh well i was gonna uh-“

“spit it out, y/n,” he giggles through his words as he digs his hand into the bag before pulling out two snacks and handing one to you. easier said than done, einstein.

“do you really have to go?” you curse under your breath for being such a coward and not just saying what you wanted to say straight away. “yeah, unfortunately,”

“unfortunately? don’t you want to go? it’s your dream, riki. for the love of god, don’t tell me you’re starting to question it.” you voice raises slightly in bewilderment. he chuckles lowly while looking out into the sky: orange, pinks, purples and hints of blue mixed in the sky like water colour being dipped in a glass half full. “no i’m not... questioning it, i’m more concerned about what i’m going to leave behind.” he takes another bite before speaking again, “i’ll miss okayama, y’know? and all my friends... even that weird, janky shop on that corner that no one really goes to. but it’s the fact that i’m leaving you behind thats making me want to stay here... i don’t want to leave you.” as he speaks, the moon peaks through the clouds more, becoming more apparent to the human eye. it almost reminds riki of his own feelings - hidden for so long before finally becoming clear.

“riki, you two-braincelled dumbass, stop being worried about some janky corner shop and go follow your dreams! you won’t be gone forever, a few months at top and sure, i may not be there in person but... you’ll always have me y’know? i’m your best friend after all!” you end your little speech with a gentle push from your shoulder to his and a wide smile, making him chuckle.

but it was humourless.

“you good?” your smile fades and instead is replaced with a small frown. he looks out into the sky again, the beautiful sunset colours suddenly replaced with a darker blue and grey transparent clouds covering a tiny part of the moon. “best friends... yeah.” it was a very quiet mutter - clearly not meant to be heard by you but it was just loud enough for your ear to catch.

this is my chance.

his quiet words gave you a slight boost of confidence and you suddenly sit in front of him, making him jump slightly in surprise. “what are you doing?”

“riki, shut up for a second,”

“right ok well, i was meaning to say this for a very long time but i kinda didn’t want to ruin anything so i decided to be a genius and basically leave it till the day before you leave so incase i did mess anything up it would give us some time y’know? but anyways uh i just wanted to say that i uh... well ok so i - well basically-“

“y/n, shut up for a second so i can kiss you.”

“i’m sorry what?” that’s what you tried to say, but instead your words got muffled by his hands softly grabbing your face and connecting his lips to yours in a warm, slow kiss.

oh good lord.

kissing riki felt like midnight strolls. walks under a roof where the rain bounced off. mario kart competitions at friendly gatherings. ordering a takeout when you don’t feel like cooking. finding your favourite shirt after misplacing it for months.

it felt so... normal. so exciting yet homely. it was something you were so happy to experience - yet it made you feel at peace and as if you were meant to be there.

as he pulled away, your cheeks warmed in delight and he shyly smiled down at the ground. in return, you lift his face and place another soft peck onto his pink lips and smile brightly after. his black pearl eyes then flicker to look behind you, smiling tenderly as he looked back at you before opening his mouth to speak.

“月が綺麗ですね?”

[kira-fluff]

Hello! Have you done headcanons for a MC that is a really good artist? Like, that's what she loves and hopes to make a career out of it? (For the RFA, V, And Saeran?) thankyou! Bye bye! \ ^-^ /

a/n: I LOOOVEE this idea! As a passionate artist myself, this one hits home :) As you probably know, I’ve updated my rules, since you specified 2, I will pick 2 from the RFA :) Again, let me know if you’d like to have different characters than the ones I picked! I went for MC instead of Y/n this time. Let me know what you think. Thanks! 

Also, this is pre-relationship and it may or may not have turned into a confession headcanon oh gosh 

- 

MC is an Artist +Confession bonus 

V +bonus confession 

As a fellow artist, V would be incredibly proud of you 

Even though he might sometimes have trouble saying it 

V has always showed actions above his words 

You’d quickly gathered this from his lack of communication with the RFA chat and text messages between the two of you in general 

But you understood him, in a way 

You related to the freedom he felt whenever he expressed himself through his photography 

Because you felt that same feelings when you painted 

You were incredibly inspired by Beatrix Potter, your memories of her various artworks inspiring you to do the same 

You adored nature just as much as V did 

Together, you both made a beautiful pair 

You wore an adorable flower-patterned, yellow sun dress

A beige sunhat you held to your head with a hand, carrying your brushes and paint palette

Him, dressed smartly in a sweater with khaki pants 

 V could carry your easel for you, his professional photography bag slung around his shoulder. 

You’d laugh, turning around to look at him, the wind blowing in your face, urging him to “Come on!” 

V had never thought you more beautiful than the time you’d accidentally tripped into a meadow of freesias, scattering them every which way 

You gasped, whipping out your pocket book, etching down the scene before you 

After a measurable silence, you looked over at V who had been quiet in taking pictures of you 

He keeps many copies of the pictures, putting one in his wallet and other places he’d look frequently just to make him smile 

He’d never let others besides himself see them, but they were the most beautiful photos he’d ever taken, and this not just by his standards of your beauty 

You sometimes would catch yourself sketching him during your time outside with him, sitting in a quiet pasture 

The world’s creatures were your muse, but you couldn’t help yourself from taking every opportunity to capture V’s every expression

And maybe that’s when you realized you were completely and utterly in love with him. 

In those quiet times in the meadows, all along you were in love with him. 

When you’d caught V taking candids of you, you always would beg him to delete them, which he begrudgingly would, if you really begged him 

But.. other than that, you were positive V had no real feelings for you outside of a deep friendship. 

That must’ve done it. He knows.  

Because suddenly, V had become incredibly distant, flaking out of your naturalist escapades, becoming increasingly difficult to come in contact at all..

it was all pointing to the fact that he had realized how deeply you loved him. 

You in turn, pushed away everyone around you. 

Rejection hurt. So much. One does not truly understand it until they’ve felt it themselves. 

It came to a point where you had no more tears left to cry, you knew he was gone forever. 

Your love, your inspiration. 

All was gone. 

You hadn’t touched a paint brush in months 

You’d been skipping meals for a while, beginning to feel more and more fatigue because of it. 

It came to the point where all in the RFA (except V) had become so worried about you that they’d sent Jaehee and Yoosung over to check on you 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d checked your phone 

Your blinds and curtains had been shut for a subsequent amount of time. 

It had been weeks since you’d last changed your clothes, your hair was unkept. 

You stopped taking care of yourself completely, emptiness overtaking you. 

You had always had a dream of making artwork your career.. but just when your freelance career had begun to take off.. you lost everything. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to touch your paints or pocket book. It reminded you too much of him. 

You weren’t concerned about money, Rika’s apartment was already paid for and… well, with no real meal expenses, you didn’t feel any real purpose to continue. 

You heard a soft knock on the door. 

Instead of answering, you groaned, rolling over in your sheets – hoping if you ignored the knocking they’d assumed you weren’t home.

Any last grain of hope you’d had left you a long time ago. 

“….MC?” 

You slowly sat up in your bed. It was Yoosung. 

You instantly felt shame for ignoring them.. and looking, well, like this. 

“I’m coming in!” Came a loud shout, causing you to panic. 

Damn. Seven must’ve opened the apartment.  

Seven was concerned for you, given the surveillance footage, he couldn’t find almost any instances when you’d left your apartment. 

Given your apparent closeness, Seven shot a text to Yoosung, Jaehee, and of course, V. 

Yoosung and Jaehee replied in agreement and concern, V, however, said something very different. 

// V:  I’m sorry. I can’t go. >> [sent, 6:08am]

707: I thot the 2 of u were rly close. Did sth happen? >> [sent, 6:09am]

V: I’m selfish. I can’t see her anymore. >> [sent, 6:29am] 

707: ? >> 

707: > [sent, 6:29am]

read, 6:32am. //

You began to cry, embarrassed and ashamed, as Jaehee and Yoosung called your name throughout your hollow feeling apartment. 

Immediate concern covered their faces when they saw you teary eyed in your bed. 

“Oh, MC, hey, it’s going to be okay.”, Jaehee immediately held your head in her arms. 

She ordered Yoosung to get some food from your local convenience store

From there, she opted to begin cleaning you up. 

Jaehee didn’t want to force you to do or say anything, so she never asked questions – unless to ask whether you were comfortable taking a shower or perhaps, eating something later. 

You were not opposed to the help, rather, you felt indebted to them, feeling guilty for causing Jaehee, Yoosung, and likely Seven a great amount of trouble. 

Jaehee made quick work of stripping your bed sheets, stuffing in the laundry and opening the blinds, cleaning your room and dusting where necessary 

A part of her chastised herself for not doing so sooner, but she and the others were afraid that they’d be intruding on your right to take a social media break or something of the sort. 

Yoosung came back relatively quickly, a meal in hand, per Jaehee’s request. 

He made quick work of making his specialty – an omurice omelette. 

Jaehee continued to tidy up, checking up with you when she’d realized the apartment had gotten too silent

You at last stepped out of the shower, your hair taking on a glimmer, as if thanking you for taking care of it at last. 

You washed your face, trying to gather your thoughts as your shoved a crew-neck shirt over your head, opting for jeans and slippers as well. 

At last coming out of the bathroom, you at last made eye contact with Yoosung and Jaehee you began to cry again. 

Without hesitation, they rushed toward you for a hug, hushing you when you’d blubbered, “I’m sorry, thank you, I’m so sorry” in between dry heaves. 

After a quick call to Seven from Jaehee, Zen, Jumin and Saeyoung had made their way to your apartment as well. 

They each had their piece to share, kind words of encouragement and love. 

You were happy by their words, but… 

V wasn’t here. 

At last gaining confidence through their encouraging words, you ushered them to the large sofas that laid beneath your TV. 

Looking down, you said, “I-I’m sure you’re all wondering about V and I..” 

You didn’t dare look up when your sniffles began. 

You took a deep breath before beginning, “This is nothing to his fault, but….” your lip wobbled, “I believe.. I think he realized that I had completely fallen for him,” you laughed pathetically, “Still am”

Seven began, “MC–” 

“I don’t blame him, really, I never intended to tell him… it’s awkward.” 

Zen clenched his fist, “That asshole…” 

“And my friend” Jumin quickly rebutted. 

“P-please! I didn’t tell you this to make you dislike him or anything! I just felt like I owed you all an explanation…”, you begged.

Seven stared at you for a while before saying, “MC… V he’s– I think you should tell him properly.” 

Zen, ever the hot-head, stood up shouting, “And get her heart broken all over again?! How heartless can you be!” 

You smiled ingenuinely, “He’s right, Zen.” 

Before you could change your mind, you picked up your phone, and for what felt like years, you at last dialed V’s number. 

On the last ring, you heard sound that the caller had, picked up though there was no sound on the other line. 

Jumin and Yoosung ushered everyone out of the room, deciding to take a little stroll outside the apartment complex. 

After a moment of silence you started, “…..V?” 

You now heard him breathing on the other line.

“V, I know you’re there. Please…” You felt your voice wavering, “P-please… come to my apartment.”, you whispered a final, “please.” 

V was silent for what felt like hours before saying, “……..okay.” 

You hung up, attempting to mentally prepare yourself for the world of hurt you were about to endure again. 

After a long silence in which you’d zoned out, you suddenly heard the door bell ring. 

You glanced up. Only V ever used the doorbell.. always had. 

You slowly crept toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. 

Gently opening the door a crack, you took in V. 

It had been a few months, but he looked so different. So…hollow. 

You moved for him to come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“Um, V, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

“You already know my answer.” 

You looked up, tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to ignore his statement. 

“V… I love you.” 

You’d never seen V so taken aback, his whole face grew pale. 

“Y-you love me?” 

“Have. For a long time.” 

You looked down, “You can go now.” 

Yet you didn’t hear a sound of movement. 

Looking up, V was still standing there, shocked. 

At last, you managed to hear the softest whisper, “All this time….”

You leaned in closer, “What?” 

“I- I loved you.. I love you. Since we’d first met. I-I thought you didn’t want a thing to do with me. Thought you’d figured out I’d fallen in love, so I distanced myself.. selfishly to try not to get hurt, but I still did. And all this time you felt the same.” 

You were now the stunned one. 

“Really?” 

V gently smiled at you, enveloping you in a tight hug, “Really.” 

Jumin +bonus confession 

You loved to create stories 

Various areas of fiction, watercolor splashing against crisp, white pages 

Telling a beautiful story in color 

And Jumin adored it. 

He adored you. 

He admired your deep passion to create and your love for everything. 

He couldn’t understand how you could see the beauty in everything around you… for Jumin, he tended to consider things in their degree of usefulness. 

For the longest time, his father and those around him had encouraged this mentality 

And so, Jumin rarely sought for things that would have no real purpose – his penthouse proved this point by its bare walls – void of artistic charm

It wasn’t until you’d met him through the RFA that you’d immediately brought a force of color into his life 

He remembered well the first time you’d come to his apartment 

You gently ran your soft fingers against the walls of his penthouse saying, “Mr. Han, I think you need some more color in your house. It looks like a hospital in here!” You turned to him, a playful smile on your face. 

The breath was knocked out of him. 

God, he could never say no to you. If you’d ask, he’d get you anything you’d ever need. 

But he loved that you didn’t appreciate that kind of affection. Jumin knew he immediately ran to gift giving for love because it was the only way he had been shown love throughout his life…. and, it didn’t really mean anything to him. 

Still, he desperately wanted to be helpful, so if you were ever in a financial struggle, he’d offer to assist you. 

You’d proudly decline, declaring you could do it all yourself. He liked that about you too. Your independence, your kindness. 

It didn’t take long for him to realize he had taken to you greatly. 

One day when you’d come over for a visit, while petting Elizabeth III, you said, “Hey, Jumin.. have you ever fallen in love before?” 

Tension filled the air while Jumin stared at you. 

How could MC be so blind. 

When it had been a few moments he’d not answered, you awkwardly said, “J-just kidding! I figured you’re probably engaged – that was a stupid question, sorry..” 

Jumin was stricken by your sudden uncertainty, but didn’t make anything of it. 

“I’m not engaged. Don’t listen to anything my father says regarding that. And to answer your question, I think I might have an idea of what that feels like.” 

His eyes bore into yours, but he of course missed the look of sorrow that’d taken over your eyes.  

He’d watch you paint all day if he had the time. 

He couldn’t understand how you could look at a blank sheet of paper and write something so poetically beautiful and paint a lovely picture to match 

It was all a part of his amazement of you. 

He could watch you for hours, humming to yourself while you played around with contrast colors for your watercolor pieces 

No other art had value quite like your own 

He encouraged you at every chance he got, “MC, you should go into the arts.” 

“That’s what I want to do! But, Dad says the arts aren’t a realistic job.”, you frowned. 

“That may have been true in some outdated decade, but in our world today people are always looking for something hand-made and authentic. When we research our products, we look for items that have a ‘signature’ to them. Trust me, people want your art not only because it is breath-taking.. but because you made it.” 

You smiled at that, Jumin was always one to put a rational thought forward for your consideration, something you’d cherished. 

“Besides, I think you’d be happy anywhere you can create.” 

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Ju Ju.”

Staying close friends became increasingly difficult, but Jumin wasn’t going to risk losing his friendship with you because of feelings. 

So you surprised him when you began randomly, “Jumin, I think I’m in love with you, okay?” 

You made eye contact, doing your best to show you were serious. 

As soon as he realized you were authentic in your confession, you turned around and began sprinting, flying open the door to his penthouse 

Jumin immediately chased after you, both in a full sprint 

You screamed when you heard his breathing and steps behind you and so increased your speed 

You had at last reached a dead end, but Jumin was a ways behind you. 

You reached for the elevator button, furiously clicking it – thankfully it came on the first ding. 

You rushed inside, repeatedly tapping the door-closing button. 

You sighed at last when you felt the elevator moving up, gasping for air. 

You attempted to continue going up to the highest story, which happened to be 320, grateful that this damn skyscraper had a ton of floors. 

You froze when the door came to a stop at floor 13. You panicked, trying to force the doors not to open. 

In front of you was a random businessmen, looked slightly peeved at the long wait he must’ve had for the elegant glass elevator. 

You apologized, allowing him into the elevator along with a crowd of impatient people, some gorgeous women with a smart suit and long hair, their phone resting on their cheek next to their ear, some more businessmen, glancing anxiously at their watches. 

As the elevator climbed to floor 21, a heap of people acknowledged their stop, pressing out of the elevator shaft and onto the busy hallways of what appeared to be the finance department. 

You sighed, pressing more buttons to go up higher. 

You screeched when you felt a hand on both of your wrists, slamming you into the wall behind you. 

Jumin’s eyes were glowing from the slight sweat that was beginning to form on his brow 

He looked pissed. 

“Don’t. Ever. Run. Away. From me. Again.” 

You gazed up at him, a guilty expression clouding your face 

“S-sorry..”, you quickly looked away, not bearing to look at the anger in his expression, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes took on a darker hue… brows knit together. He was really mad. 

“You didn’t let me answer.” He said, his voice deep. 

He leaned in closer.. you closed your eyes in anticipation. 

He breathed a laugh through his nose, resting his forehead on your collarbone and shoulder. 

You blushed in embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Jumin hugged you tightly, “I love you too, MC.” 

Zen

As a fellow artist, Zen was overjoyed to say the least when he found out about your love for singing 

Your social media accounts were growing rapidly from your posts of music covers and original songs 

You also had a deep love to playing the harp. 

It had taken a lot of coaxing to convince your father to let you pay half and he pay the other of the expense of a 200,000 Won pedal harp 

But you loved it so much 

And so does Zen 

He’d definitely insist on doing a collaboration with you 

After the recording session and upload, both your following counts grew rapidly 

Comments of all types flooded your posts: 

OMG!!! ZEN!! BEAUTIFUL ZEN!!

who’s the b*tch next to him? 

omg, right? 

ew lol 

AHHHH I LOVE YOU ZEN!!! 

MC looks so cute…

fyp!! 

ZEN AND MC WOULD MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE AWEEEE 

I agree!! 귀엽다   (cute) 

Over the course of your social media endeavor, you’d learned to ignore the ruthless comments of jealous fans 

Zen was worried you’d taken them personally so he validated you a lot over the period that the video was a hit 

Zen wrote a song about you (which he definitely serenaded you with): 

“your passion, my passion one in the same this song – our communicator of my love to you. your smile each day this serenade a simple translator the time we have means so much i wouldn’t spend it any other way.” - radio wave COMMUNICATION by Zen 

The song overtook the song charts, making it’s way to the #1 spot in half a day 

You’d asked him, “Zen, are you going to make that a single? You are, aren’t you? Right?” 

“No, this is something for you and you only” 

You smiled at that, but said, “Zen, love like this deserves to be shared. This song will mean something so special to someone else, just like it means something to me. Music, what we do.. it was made to be shared.” 

Zen looked at you with stars in his eyes, taking you in a big hug. 

You truly were the kindest person he’d ever met.. and he loved you so, so much. 

Even though you may not have realized yet what the truth of his feelings were in his serenade, he knew he’d wait for the day in anticipation when he’d finally ask you to be his. 

Saeran

Saeran wasn’t personally one for dramatics, but he loved watching you perform  

You’d sing for all kinds of musicals – you’d act for a series of plays 

He loved it when you’d act in classics like Macbeth or The Phantom of the Opera

It felt like a safe place to forget everything in his life and just watch you 

But he hadn’t fallen for you for who you pretended to be, but for who you really are. 

You were shy – something he found surprising (but unbelievably adorable) because you were a well-known actress 

When you’d first met him, you were walking outside the entrance way of the theater a few hours before your showtime. 

You had accidentally tripped and spilled coffee all over some tax forms you had to fill out

You let out a soft, “oh no!” 

Saeran had been early for a nice seat (hopefully away from other people) and noticed a woman in a cute over-sized sweater was muttering words under her breath, picking up what seemed to be endless amounts of papers 

He quietly walked over and just as softly said, “…need some help..?” 

You were surprised at the sudden presence of a stranger 

“o-oh! … yes please..” 

he smiled, leaning down and picking up stacks of coffee-stained paper

“would you like me to carry them for you?”, he said 

“are you– are you sure?” you looked up at him innocently in concern 

he answered by gently taking the stack of papers, “where to..?” 

“um… i’ll show you..” 

he nodded, following you to the backstage area where there was a mirror attached to a dresser, stage makeup covering the top of it. 

“you’re an actress?” 

you grinned shyly, “everyone’s surprised..” 

“n-no, i think it suits you. i was surprised because i’m watching the show tonight.” 

“r-really? you’ll watch me?” 

he nodded, blushing at your hopeful smile 

“i’ll do my best then, if you’ll watch me..” 

“good.” he looked away 

“i’ll be waiting” you said with a soft smile 

“so will i” 

yeah you two were literally so adorable.

- 

enjoy my beautifuls

[mirahuyooo]

Baby | knj

Baby

—Your daughter had been so sure about one thing. You are Baby. End of discussion. 

Word Count: 1,268 Content/s: FLUFF, drama (super light, extra smol), established relationship, married life, husband and wife au, dad!namjoon is a p r e c i o u s concept & I'm glad we all agree Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

A/N: Hi, hello, idc if I'm posting out of schedule, this would've been a better tribute for Joonie's birthday but I went away and posted the one that's been in the drafts SO hERE I AM, houRS AFTER COOING AND FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS FOR THE CONCEPT OF F U T U R E  D A D to deliver you this short blurb inspired by the stuff i saw on twt 😩👌💕 Hope y'all enjoyed!

[masterlist]

Any couple with a kid would gladly attest to the saying that parenting is no easy feat. The two of you, of course, have found fact in such a statement and have always managed. You, yourself, think you two did a brilliantly decent job raising Luna, your four-turning-five-year-old who had recently donned her big girl shoes on and entered the great unknown—kindergarten.

Now, you don't really know why you've been called in to meet with the teacher instead of doing the usual routine of waiting by the school gates, but you were certain that your sweet, little angel didn't do anything wr—

"What do you mean she got into a fight?"

Your jaw falls slack as you turned to the little girl sheepishly sitting in the chair next to you. An eyebrow of yours raised, waiting for her explanation, but Luna refused to meet with your questioning gaze. "Luna," you call out, soft yet firm so as to not scare her into not speaking a word. 

"Well, Mrs. Kim," the teacher, Ms. Oh, began, catching your attention once more. She brings her hands together over the wooden desk with an awkward smile gracing her features, somewhat unsure of how to properly tell the story itself. "Luna here threw a little fit when one of her classmates, Chunsa, made fun of your name."

The confusion that seizes you knows no limits. "My name?" You incredulously ask. What's wrong with my name?

Ms. Oh glances at Luna for a moment before clearing her throat. "She said that your name was Baby," she tells you, "Chunsa laughed, because she found it funny and proceeded to make fun of it with the others. The fight,  fortunately, was able to be stopped before anyone got hurt."

You could hardly believe your ears. Luna is a reserved girl, always has been, inheriting her father's introverted tendencies and love for books. She has the patience of a saint, too. For her to be like this...

"Baby?" You found yourself muttering aloud. "Why would she—oh..."

Oh no.

A blush stains across your cheeks an unmistakable red, spreading like an unstoppable forest fire except the one that got slain is your will to live. "I," you stammer, scrambling to find an excuse. "It's just that, uhm," you coughed into one hand. "Her, uh, father used to call me... baby before we got married. He still, uh, calls me that to this day. We didn't—"

 You glance at your daughter, who was now looking at you with complete and utter betrayal. All you could muster to give to the both of them was an apologetic smile. "We didn't expect her to do such a thing," you told Ms. Oh in all honesty. 

The silence that hung in the air was killing you mentally, when really you want it done physically so you can be rid of this mortification. Can the ground just swallow you whole please? Thanks. 

To save yourself and your daughter from any more of this agony, you stood up, securing your shoulder bag with one hand before bowing to the young kindergarten teacher, both as an apology and as a farewell. "My husband and I will discuss it later," you solemnly swore, "I promise it won't happen again."

You grabbed Luna's hand, coaxing her to utter a small goodbye with you before taking the two of you out of the school grounds and into the parking lot where you had parked your car. You usher your daughter into her place in the backseat before hopping onto the driver's seat yourself and driving onwards to home. 

As soon as you drove a good distance away from the school, a loud outbreath of relief escapes you, along with a little chuckle for you have been made a clown after that little hooha. Come to think of it, if all the embarrassment could just leave your body right now for even just a damn second, the scene that had just unfolded was hilarious. 

Luna, behind you, however, looks at you with a puzzled expression. Eventually, she speaks up. "Mommy," she slowly began, "did I... did I really do an oopsie?"

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, offering her an assuring smile to ease her guilt. "It's okay, honey," you tell her, "you didn't know. Just don't fight with anyone again, hm? Remember what daddy said?"

Luna nods. "Violence is never the answer," she utters Namjoon's reminders along with you. Still, she fiddles with her fingers. 

"What's your real name then, mommy?"

You beam a smile. "Mommy's name is (Y/N), sweetie," you tell her, "we can try spelling and writing it later if you want."

Your little offer seems to have efficiently lift her mood a little. She nods enthusiastically, but her curious eyes were still swimming with thoughts and questions. "Why does Daddy call you baby then?" She asks.

Nearly but fortunately not so, your grip on the steering wheel loosens as your throat chokes on your spit for a moment. You clear your throat. "Well," you began, scouring your head for a suitable explanation, "it's like a nickname! You know how mommy calls you honey sometimes? Or sweetie? Or, how daddy calls you moonchild?"

Luna nods understandably, getting a grasp onto the concept. "But why does he always call you baby?" She soon asks, not fully satisfied with your initial statement. 

See, now that's not wholly true—but your daughter will have even more questions, so you're gonna have to shut up about that and just go with the hell of it. "Sometimes," you say, "sometimes, it just gets stuck that way, y'know? Like how you'll always call me mommy or eomma, and how you'll always call daddy your daddy or appa."

Luna, for now seemed to have enough. A small 'ah...' leaving her lips, as she resorts to looking out the window for amusement. 

All you could do at that moment was let out yet another outbreath of relief—this time quieter so as not to catch Luna's attention again. Still, your lips tugged upwards. 

Baby, huh? Wait 'til Namjoon hears about this. 

BONUS

"We're home!"

Your voice rings throughout the house, as you lock the door behind you. Luna runs along and into the kitchen, immediately sensing her father was there. 

You enter the premises to see Namjoon ducking down to her height in order to perform their daily kiss on the cheek ritual. He had been at the dining table, coffee in one hand—presumably taking a break from composing. 

Just as you reach the two of them, Luna runs off to play with her dolls, leaving you alone with your husband. You lean down to press a light kiss on his lips, which he greatly welcomes. You sat on the chair next to him, resting your cheek against the palm of your hand. "You can not believe what just happened at school today," You halfheartedly groan, ready to spill some tea. 

Namjoon chuckles, glancing at you as he sips on his mug. "Humor me," he tells you with an encouraging pat on the thigh. 

Though the touch of hand sends shivers down your spine, you carry on with your words. "Luna got in trouble today," you say, "because she genuinely thought my name was baby and her classmates made fun of her for it."

"She what?"

You laugh at the ridiculous expression that seizes Namjoon's face. "Guess how she came to such a conclusion," you mused, eliciting a chuckle from your husband. 

"Hm, yes," he feigns to ponder with a smirk, "I wonder how."

[luxekook]

love bites | ksj

*written for the FWL luv library project*

⇥ pairing: kim seokjin x reader

⇥ genre: non-idol au, co-workers to lovers, smut, fluff

⇥ summary: you’re stuck working the evening shift on valentine’s day at bangtan bistro. as the city’s most expensive and exclusive restaurant, the bistro draws in couples both old and new with partners looking to propose or to impress. your tolerance for PDA and cringey lovebirds has never been lower. throw a flirty chef into the mix and you’re in for a bumpy ride that might just conclude with a happy ending.

⇥ word count: 5.4k

⇥ warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, bad puns from jin, numerous health-code violations (from fraternizing all up in that kitchen), oral (m + f receiving), protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it, folks), workplace romance, threats of violence from yoongi

⇥ beta'd by the amazing @shadowsremedy​ (thank you, heath! could not have done this without you, your feedback, and your general support!)

“Will you marry me?”

I screech to a halt, completely astounded at the goddamned audacity of the man kneeling before me. Did he really just ask that? At a time like this?

I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I try not to outwardly show my disgust over the scene unfolding before my very eyes.

“Oh my god, Chad!” The date of this Chad finally launches herself from her seat and into his arms, “Yes!”

The restaurant breaks into applause. My forehead breaks into a sweat.

My left arm feels like it might snap at any moment under the weight of the tray of food that I’m meant to be serving this goddamn theatrical couple. The thought of quitting crosses my mind for the umpteenth time that evening.

A camera flash temporarily stuns me, and I feel a tiny twinge of satisfaction. My looming presence in that commemorative photo will hopefully be a reminder to let servers do their damn job before launching into a whole ordeal.

God, I must have been off my fucking rocker when I agreed to work the Valentine’s Day dinner shift. At least the tip money would be worth it.

Gritting my teeth, I flash my best fake smile and offer words of congratulations to the sniffling couple who finally reclaimed their seats.

“Enjoy your meal,” my mouth says with a smile.

“I wish I could sear you like that filet mignon you ordered, Chad,” my glare says with promise.

Thirty seconds later, I’m in full whisper-rant mode at the corner server station. My friend and fellow server Tabby half-listens as she punches in an order at the kiosk.

“And then this Chad in his fucking khaki suit flails to the ground to pop the question like he didn’t see me walking towards them with all seven entrees they ordered. So then I’m stuck hovering over their table with a giant-ass tray of food while they cry and hug and kiss until, finally, finally, they park it back in their seats so I can serve them.”

I groan, hitting my head against the wall, “What did I do in a past life to deserve this?”

“Kill someone, probably,” a voice pipes up from behind the station’s kitchen window, “Oh wait, you would do that in this life, too.”

Kim Seokjin, head chef of Bangtan Bistro and my partial employer, is leaning over the window’s counter, eyes full of mischief as he watches me.

“Oh, what’s this? Are you volunteering to be my very first victim?” I mirror his position leaning over the window’s counter and give him my best side-eye, “I’ll send you my application for victims on Google Docs.”

“Sounds kinky,” Seokjin grins, “Count me in. My Gmail username is Hugh Chefner. No capitals or spaces.”

“I despise you,” I say biting back a smile.

“You lo-o-ove me!” He sings, heading back into the depths of the hectic kitchen.

And, unfortunately, he’s right. Damn Kim Seokjin and his insane level of gorgeousness, charisma, and dramatics.

Against my better judgment, Seokjin has shimmied his chaotic self right into my well-guarded heart. Despite all of the prickliness my typical demeanor displays, I can’t help but melt under the warm gaze of such a handsome man.

Seokjin is the first person that has ever been able to pique my interest lately and keep it. Yes, it might have something to do with his extreme attractiveness; but, it more-so has everything to do with his genuine kindness and weird sense of humor.

Shit, I’ve gone soft. If we’re arguing Nature vs. Nurture here, this is totally Nurture’s fault.

Bangtan Bistro is co-owned by seven men - each as fine as the next. Being surrounded by good-looking and kind-hearted men day in and day out will definitely fuck with your brain, your body, and eventually even your fucking heart.

Kim Namjoon, a tall, dimpled sweetheart of a man, acts as general manager. Namjoon typically resides in the back office of the restaurant running numbers and going over other business ventures. He used to frequent the front of the restaurant to check on customers, but Jimin has since banned him from that activity after the infamous Spaghetti Incident of 2019.

Park Jimin, as the overseer of staff and servers, commands the restaurant floor with a crinkly-eyed smile and a ferocious temper. Fortunately for his direct subordinates (READ: me), his temper is most likely to be focused on rude customers and his messy business partners. Jimin honestly is the ideal boss because he has our backs and will never hesitate to help anyone out.

Late one Saturday evening, a man refused to leave the restaurant after being cut off from his bar tab. Jimin full-on squared up with him in defense of the poor server who had to break the news to the drunk patron. Luckily, the Bistro’s head of security, Jeon Jungkook, took over before Jimin actually popped off.

Jungkook, as the youngest partner, is shockingly tall and muscular. He definitely provides the intimidation needed for those types of escalating incidents. Despite his tough exterior, Jungkook is a complete softie.

I once caught Jungkook in the kitchen after close attempting to make cookies for a girl he had a crush on. I walked in to see Jungkook standing over a tray of the unidentifiable charred monstrosities and pouting in the most ridiculous way. Needless to say, I helped him bake a new batch with the oven not turned up to 500 degrees so that “they would cook faster”.

Min Yoongi had found the pair of us bickering and had just rolled his eyes and scooped a mouthful of raw cookie dough. As the head bartender, Yoongi is the absolute best at mixing drinks and the absolute worst at customer service. I swear the man gets far too much pleasure from getting people thrown out. He’s also notorious for watering down the drinks of customers he doesn’t like. He’s petty like that. I live for it.

Once, Jung Hoseok tried to take a picture of Yoongi for the restaurant’s website, and Yoongi threatened to shove a sharpened cocktail umbrella through Hoseok’s eye. I had never seen the Bistro’s head of marketing and resident sunshine flee so fast. Hoseok later ended up using an old picture of Yoongi in retaliation; rumor has it Yoongi is still plotting his revenge to this day.

Kim Taehyung often grumbles about how he’s going to be put out of a job since the restaurant naturally provides daily entertainment. As the head of entertainment and events, Taehyung helps to secure live music and special guests. He’s also the most handsome man I have ever seen - with the exception of one Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin, as head chef, is responsible for planning the seasonal menus, overseeing the kitchen staff, and preparing the more challenging dishes. He’s even taken it upon himself to be the resident comedian, which the other six partners vehemently and openly detest. Still, that backlash has not stopped him from naming each evening special with puns. His last Seokjin Special was called “Chicken Pot Bye Felicia”. It had resulted in Yoongi banning Seokjin from the restaurant for a full week. He still hasn’t dared to make another pun, but I can tell it will only be a matter of time.

Basically, Seokjin is an entirely goofy and beautiful mess of a human. Yet, I can’t stop myself from falling deeper and deeper into the trap that is loving someone outside of your league.

When I first arrived at the Bistro for my inaugural shift, I was greeted enthusiastically by Jimin, who I’d met previously in my interview. Jimin had introduced me to each of his partners - each as handsome as the last. Honestly, my eyes and nerves had been exhausted after meeting almost all of them. Then Jimin had ushered me into the kitchen.

“Hey, Jin-hyung!” Jimin had yelled over the cacophony of sizzling pans and murmured conversation. I had watched in awe as the hottest man I’ve ever seen entered my line of vision and stopped before me. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a face that could inspire priceless works of art with full pink lips, high cheekbones, and devilish dark eyes.

“You summoned me, Jiminie?” The man had laughed in a slightly squeaky manner before he noticed my presence, “Ah, who might this be?”

I had cleared my throat in hopes that my voice wouldn’t crack under the sheer weight of this man’s attractiveness, “Hi, I’m (y/n). I’m starting today as a server.” and thrust my hand out with a shy smile.

He had blinked. Slowly, a smirk eased onto his face as he grabbed my hand. Instead of shaking it, he had brought it to his lips. “A pleasure. I’m Seokjin,” he had murmured, lips brushing against my knuckles. My cheeks had felt like they were on fire as Jimin screeched at Seokjin for harassing me.

“It’s her first day, Jin! Lay off the theatrics,” Jimin had turned to me, “Sorry about him, (y/n). He’s a desperate flirt.”

“Desperate? Me?” Seokjin gasped, “Worldwide Handsome does not do desperate.”

“Did you just refer to yourself as ‘Worldwide Handsome’?” I had gaped at his open arrogance.

Seokjin proudly had puffed up his chest, “Yes. What else could I possibly be called?”

“Well, definitely not Worldwide Humble,” My mouth had said before my brain caught up.

The room had seemed to pause before Jimin erupted in peals of laughter as Seokjin spluttered, “Yah, Jiminie, you can’t let her talk to me like that!”

Still laughing, Jimin had choked out, “(y/n), you officially have a job here until you die.”

Ever since that first encounter, Seokjin and I have established a working relationship based on banter or what Tabby refers to as ‘flirting’. I refuse to believe that ridiculous notion.

Tabby finally finishes entering her order into the kiosk and turns to me, “So, any hot plans for tonight?” Her eyebrows wiggle up and down suggestively.

“Does solo Netflix and chill count as hot plans?” I deadpan as I peer around the server station divider to covertly check on my tables. I lock eyes on Chad and his fiancé, who already seem to be arguing, and I make an executive decision to not go check how their meal is going.

“No!” Tabby’s whisper-yell commands my attention, “That definitely does not count, (y/n). Why didn’t you find someone on Tinder? I even made you that bomb-ass profile.”

I pointedly look everywhere but at her.

“You deleted the app, didn’t you,” she glares at me, arms folded, “I slaved over that profile! There were only so many tasteful cleavage shots of my best friend that I could stomach in one sitting!”

“What the fuck, Tabby! Since when do I have any—”

“Tasteful cleavage shots?” Seokjin’s elated voice practically shouts from the kitchen, “Let me at ‘em.”

His hands launch towards us through the kitchen window and make grabbing motions.

“Seokjin,” I tsk mockingly, “Are you trying to grab my tits again?”

“Again?” Tabby cries, whirling on Seokjin, who looks at us in horror.

“I wasn’t! I swear! I just wanted to see the pictures! I didn’t want to grab your boobs…” He trails off, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not any more than usual, anyway’.

“Seokjin-hyung! (y/n)!” Jimin blazes into the service station, “I’ve had it up to here with your bickering. You’re both on closing duties tonight - alone.”

“What?” I exclaim as Tabby slinks away. Traitor. “We’re just joking with each other! Right, Seokjin?”

Jimin’s gaze swings from me to Seokjin, who is suddenly suspiciously calm. My eyes narrow. A silent conversation is definitely happening without my participation.

Finally, Seokjin just shrugs with a grin, “Sounds fair to me, Jiminie! (y/n) and I will work hard all night if we have to.”

“Fair?” I choke, “All night?”

Jimin, following Tabby’s lead, scurries away as my attention is diverted by Seokjin’s idiocy. “Scared to be alone with me, (y/n)?” Seokjin’s lips break into a sly smile, “Don’t worry, I don’t bite… much.”

With that parting remark, Seokjin winks at me and disappears back into the kitchen.

“Fuck me,” I breathe out. How would I survive this?

Five hours later, the last patron has been ushered out of the restaurant with the staff right on their heels. I curse as Yoongi waltzes out the door, fanning himself with a crisp fifty-dollar bill and winking obnoxiously. “Have fun!” He cackles, locking the restaurant doors behind him.

“No, please don’t offer to stay and help,” I grumble, sweeping stray pieces of lettuce out from under a table, “I am more than happy to stay here until the ass-crack of dawn with the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.”

“The biggest, huh?” The voice chuckles right in my ear, “How did you know?”

“Goddamnit, Seokjin!” I slap a hand to my heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you oaf!”

Whirling to face him, I stutter to a halt. He’s taken off his heavy chef’s coat and is now left in a tight black t-shirt that clings to his body in a manner that has to be illegal.

I swallow hard, and for a split second, I swear Seokjin’s gaze latches onto my throat.

“Is it hot in here?” I mutter distractedly, tugging at the collar of my stiff white button-down.

“Yes,” Seokjin practically purrs, “It’s scorching.”

Choosing not to acknowledge him, I spin on my heels, grabbing the full dustpan of debris I collected and head towards the back of the restaurant.

Emptying the dustpan in the trash, I walk over to the supply closet to return the broom. The restaurant floor is finished. Now, I just had to see how much of the kitchen Seokjin actually cleaned.

Pushing through the swinging doors of the kitchen, I screech to a halt as I’m faced with a complete and utter miracle.

“What in tarnation?” I gasp, taking in the pristine kitchen full of glistening stainless steel and sparkling countertops. “Kim Seokjin!” I yell, “You damn wizard! How the fuck did you clean everything this fast?”

“You could say I was motivated,” his reply sounds entirely too close. I spin to face him and gape as I notice the bouquet of red roses that he’s holding out to me.

Taking in my speechless appearance, Seokjin smiles smugly and opens his mouth to continue.

I cut him off, “Tell me those aren’t the roses from the fucking table centerpieces... I threw those in the trash, Seokjin!”

His ears turn an alarming shade of magenta, “Yah, just accept the gesture, (y/n)! This is peak romance, you know!”

“They are covered in filth, dude!” I squint, peering closer, “Is that a piece of spaghetti in there?”

Seokjin yeets the makeshift bouquet back into the garbage, “Why can’t you just appreciate my efforts?” He pouts excessively, “Don’t you like me?”

Red alert. Red alert, my mind whirs.

“Sure,” I let out a nervous laugh, “We’re friends. Of course, I like you.”

He steps towards me, “Sure, we’re friends, (y/n), but friends don’t usually want to fuck each other.”

That bitch said what now?

“Did you inhale too much Clorox?” I panic, “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” Thrusting three fingers in front of Seokjin’s amused face, I widen my eyes as he suddenly grabs my hand.

“Baby,” he says lowly, sending a delicious shiver down my spine, “If you keep being so adorable, I may just have to keep you.”

Well, shit, okay. “Say less,” I breathe and then immediately slam my mouth shut.

I receive a classic Seokjin grin in return for my idiocy, and my knees shake. Honestly, who the fuck allowed him to be that devastating?

Slowly, his grin slips away, and his eyes ignite with raw desire, “Tell me what you want from me, (y/n).”

My mind short circuits, automatically reverting to my default mode of sass, “Uh, peace and quiet?”

“Really?” Seokjin murmurs, stepping even closer still, “So you don’t want me to kiss you? You don’t want me to turn you over and fuck you until you scream?”

My breathing is ragged. His eyes burn with a hunger I had never seen before, and I’m crumbling.

“Answer me,” Jin demands, desperation seeped in each word, “Please.”

“Seokjin—” I gasp, dumbfounded, “Where the hell is this coming from? We’re coworkers! You’re my boss!”

His eyes flashed darkly as he moved his head closer to mine, “That’s all irrelevant, baby.”

“Irrelevant—!” I stab a finger into his firm chest, “Oh, you little shit, you can’t just say that you want to fuck me and then say that our working relationship is irrelevant! I could get fired. You could get fired!”

“That’s highly unlikely given the fact that everyone else knows my plans to ask you out right now.”

“Hold on a second,” I narrow my eyes, “Are you saying that you purposefully planned for us to stay late tonight to clean the entire goddamn restaurant just so you could ask me out? Are you fucking insane?”

“I prefer the term ‘quirky’,” he quips, “But, yeah, I may have paid everyone $50 to leave us alone for the night.”

“Well, that explains Yoongi… that shady motherfucker,” I internally make note to plot my vengeance. “Why couldn’t you have just slid in my DMs like a normal person, Seokjin?” I groan, “I would have responded to a ‘you up’ with a ‘yes, come over’.”

Seokjin whips out his cell phone. “Does this apply to right now?” he asks, typing furiously.

My phone dings with several Instagram notifications.

hughchefner: u up

hughchefner: wyd

hughchefner: date me?

(y/n): bet

Seokjin’s eyes shoot up to mine after he reads my response, “Really? You agreed to date me by saying ‘bet’ in an Instagram DM?”

“Yup,” I shrug, “No take-backs. Also, to answer your previous questions: Yes, I do want you to kiss me with your insufferable mouth, and, yes, I do want to sit on your dick. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Say less,” Seokjin echoes my earlier statement and captures my mouth with his. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

“(Y/n),” he groans right as my tongue swipes teasingly against his lower lip.

His hands slid down my body, pausing only to squeeze my waist gently before settling firmly on my ass. His fingers dig in hard and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan.

“You like that, baby? You like when I’m rough?” Seokjin pulls his lips off mine and murmurs sinfully, “God, I want to devour you.”

I lift my chin up and challenge, “Do it, you won’t.”

His eyes flare, “Oh, babygirl, you were made for me.” Seokjin’s lips return to mine, moving at a slow but ravenous pace.

Still kissing me, he picks me up and places me on one of the kitchen’s stainless steel counters. His hands grab my thighs, tugging them apart to make room for him to stand between them. A harsh groan rises from the depths of his chest as our bodies align.

I hook one leg around his waist and tug him closer still. Pulling my lips away, I lean my head back as I slowly trace his muscles through his shirt. He watches me with his puffy lips parted, his breathing hard. His eyes are wild and I’m loving every second of it.

The room suddenly feels too hot. My hands dart up to shakily begin undoing the buttons of my shirt. Seokjin’s eyes follow my movements with fascination. “Let me,” he purrs and proceeds to rip my shirt from my body. Buttons scatter on the floor with sorrowful little bounces.

“You bitch,” I yank his hair, “That was my good work shirt.”

“I’ll buy you ten more,” Seokjin’s voice is rough and full of desire as he takes in my lacy white bra. Suddenly, his mouth descends to suck at my nipple through the thin lace.

“Damn, you are so fucking sexy,” he pulls his mouth away, “Can I take this off?”

I nod like a bobblehead in 60mph winds, reaching around my back with one hand to undo the clasp and then throwing my bra clear across the kitchen. It lands on top of one of the fridges and I shrug. I’d retrieve it later.

Seokjin tugs off his own shirt, revealing planes of tanned skin. I don’t hesitate to run my hands up and down the definition of his abs and watch in fascination as his muscles constrict under my touch. I run my hands lower, tracing his defined v-line.

No wonder they call it the Adonis belt, I muse, pondering if he’d let me lick it.

Huffing in impatience at my slow exploration, Seokjin returns his mouth to my nipple and sucks hard. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. He bites down gently and then blows on my nipple slowly. I moan at the sensation. I watch him through unfocused eyes as his hand slides down the front of my body. He reaches the button of my pants and pauses.

Seokjin pulls his mouth away from my nipple, his lips swollen and pink. “You have to say yes, baby.” His breath hits my ear, making me shiver.

I hold out my hand for a high-five and declare, “We stan a man who asks for clear consent.” Chuckling, Seokjin slaps my offered hand and then links his fingers with mine.

“Also,” I continue, looking into his eyes, “It’s a fuck yes.” I pull our linked fingers close to place a kiss on his knuckles.

“Cute,” he grins, “Now, can I take off your pants?”

“Take off yours first,” I order.

“So eager,” he laughs, making quick work of his black jeans. My mouth instantly waters at the sight of his hard cock straining to be released from the confines of his bright red Versace boxer briefs.

“Why am I not surprised that even your underwear is extra?” I mumble, flicking the button of my pants open.

Laughing, Seokjin takes over, tugging my pants down my legs. He then pushes my matching white lace panties aside and cups my pussy, applying pressure. I roll my hips into his hand.

His fingers trace lightly up and down my pussy, before one dips inside me. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans.

“Always,” I breathe out. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from me. I pout. Seokjin laughs at my expression and then licks his finger.

“Jesus fuck, (y/n), you taste so sweet. Let me eat you out,” he pleads.

I smirk, saying, “I thought you’d never ask,” and then gasp as he kneels before me, grabbing my hips. Seokjin moves to tear my underwear off, and I’m quick to place my foot on his forehead to stop his approach. “I swear to god, Seokjin, if you rip these, I will get Namjoon to permanently ban Seokjin Specials.”

“You’re evil,” he grins, “I love it.” He makes a show of slowly taking my panties off before throwing them carelessly behind him. He then yanks the same leg I had used to thwart his panty-tearing plans and throws it over his shoulder before returning his fingers to my pussy. Seokjin’s thumb circles my clit while two of his fingers thrust into me at a maddening rate.

My fingers grip his hair when I finally feel his tongue licking up the juices that have started to run down my thighs.

After sucking what will probably become a massive hickey onto my left inner thigh, his tongue licks a path straight up my folds until it circles around my clit maddeningly. “Goddamnit, Seokjin, stop teasing,” my voice cracks in desperation, but my plea works. His tongue flicks at my clit lightly before his lips close over it and suck.

“Fuck,” I moan, “I think I like you eating me out more than I like eating your cooking.”

He pulls back to briefly land a light swat on my pussy and I choke on air as painful pleasure shoots through me. “Take that back,” he growls, “My cooking is second only to my handsome face.”

“God, I fucking hate you,” I drawl. The emphasis in my words portrays the exact opposite.

Seokjin sends me a shit-eating grin before his tongue returns to lick at my swollen clit, up and down, and then in a slow circle. His fingers brush open my folds just enough for him to sink his tongue into me. “O-oh,” I throw my head back, one hand moving up to pinch one of my nipples while the other latches back into Seokjin’s hair.

“I’m s-so close, baby,” my words slur as I shamelessly beg, “Don’t stop.”

He immediately pulls away.

“Oh, fuck you,” I seethe. I yank his head back by his hair until his neck is stretched in a long line. His hair is a mess, and I’ve never seen anything hotter.

“I just want to feel you come when I’m inside you, baby,” he smiles, my wetness glistening on his lips.

“Fine,” I shimmy off of the counter onto shaky legs, “Two can play at that game.”

“What?” Seokjin’s brows furrow in confusion.

It’s my turn to drop to my knees. “Oh, shit,” he curses as I tug his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. It’s silky and gorgeous, and I can’t stop staring at it. Seokjin, of course, notices. “You like my cock, babygirl? Take it. It’s yours.”

It already was, I think, as my gaze darts up to meet his.

Without breaking eye contact, I lick his reddened tip, almost moaning at his taste. “Fuck, babygirl,” Seokjin throws his head back. I smile wickedly. I could definitely get addicted to ruining this beautiful boy. “Look at me,” I command, feeling so powerful when he immediately listens.

Slowly, I suck down on his length, hollowing out my cheeks. My eyes stay on his as he groans, and I can tell he’s straining to keep from thrusting into my mouth.

“Please, baby, fuck—!” He moans as I swallow around him and then release him from my mouth with a pop. My hand darts up to grip him tightly, pumping him. Moving slowly, I suck one of his balls into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it gently. Seokjin chokes, “Fuck me.”

“We’ll get there, baby,” I tug my mouth away and grin up at him.

I suck him as far down as I can. His control snaps and he begins to thrust wildly into my mouth, panting.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” his eyes scrunch up as he chants, “I’m gonna come.”

I release him ruthlessly.

“Goddamnit,” he cries, “I knew that was coming, but it still hurts.”

“Well,” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, “If only you had a pretty little pussy ready for you to fuck… Oh, wait.”

Seokjin chuckles, “I see I wasn’t able to fuck some of the sass out of that mouth. We might have to try that again later.”

“Gladly,” I grin back at him, “You have a condom?”

Seokjin picks up his discarded jeans from the floor and digs around in the back pockets. “Aha!” He yells, hoisting up the glimmering gold foil in triumph.

I roll my eyes before snatching the condom from the idiot. Tearing the foil packaging open with my teeth, I grab Seokjin’s length and pump him a few times in preparation.

“Stop being a tease,” he mumbles, thrusting shallowly into my hand.

“Stop being so hot,” I challenge, leaning down to lick his pre-cum dripping from the reddened tip of his cock.

“Impossible,” Seokjin smirks before tugging me back up to face him.

He drops his lips to mine and sucks on my bottom lip. Pulling away slightly, he tugs at it in a stinging bite. Withdrawing his mouth from mine, he spins me around and bends me over the counter.

I feel the head of his cock running teasingly over the folds of my pussy and I gasp, “Please, baby, I need you inside me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He thrusts into me in one sharp movement. We both gasp as he fills me, gliding in and out.

“Harder,” I moan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I’m trying to last over here.”

“Why? We have all night,” I pout before an idea pops into my head, and I taunt, “Wait, are you telling me you’re a one and done type of old man?”

“Oh, you’re going to regret that,” Seokjin mutters darkly.

His hard cock fills and stretches me, pleasure emanating within me from every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Your pussy is mine,” he growls, “I’ll fuck you from against the wall after this. I’ll fuck you until you can’t sass me anymore. And I’ll fuck you all night, baby, and every night after that.”

I clench around him as his dirty words wash over me. “Those are all great ideas in theory,” I gasp out, “But I really want to ride you first.”

“Oh, babygirl wants to fuck herself on my cock?” Seokjin slaps my ass before pulling out, “Well, come on.”

I stand upright and turn to see him walking towards the large island in the middle of the room. He hops onto it and lays down, placing one arm behind his head, and the other one slowly strokes his cock.

“You better get that hand off your cock before I decide to never let you into my pussy again,” I say darkly as I move towards him.

His hand flies off his dick at the speed of light, his eyes wide as they focus on me.

When I get close enough, I climb up onto the island and kneel with one leg on each side of his tapered waist. I slowly sink down so that just his tip is inside me and squeeze.

A garbled moan escapes Seokjin, his hands shooting out to grab my waist in an attempt to push me down further.

“Someone’s eager,” I whisper, bending down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’ve been fucking eager since you were hired.” He smacks my ass and then groans as I reflexively sink down another inch.

“Yeah?” I question, sinking down another inch as his eyes squeeze shut, “You should have said something sooner, baby. I could have been riding you hard for months.”

Seokjin pouts, “Well, there’s no time like the present?”

“God, you’re such a dweeb,” I grin before taking him to the hilt. We both let out strangled breaths as I shift slightly, before placing a hand on his neck.

Keeping my hand there, I lift up and begin riding him hard. My body slides up and down onto his cock at a fast pace. Sweat drips down my back. Seokjin grabs my ass, his fingers gripping my skin, and pounds up into my pussy with brutal and possessive force.

“O-oh, fuck.” There’s something about riding Seokjin that just feels so good. My hips swivel and roll against his. The pleasure steadily builds, and I try to distract myself by biting down on Seokjin’s neck.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, “Are you close?”

I pull away from his neck and sit up, arching my back to give him a deeper angle. He thrusts up into my g-spot and I gasp, “Shit, yes, I’m close. Come with me, baby.”

I clench my walls around him. Seokjin’s eyes are scrunched shut as he continues to pound into me with harsh strokes.

He shifts one hand from my ass to gently circle my aching clit, and I light up. My walls clench and pulse, locking down on Seokjin so tight that he comes, his hot seed filling the condom as he shudders.

I collapse against him and shove my face into his sweaty neck.

I can feel his laugh bubbling up from his chest before I hear it. “What’s so funny?” I ask, lips brushing his skin.

“Namjoon’s going to kill us for the number of health code violations we just committed,” his laughter causes his cock to shift within me, and I bite back a moan.

“Well,” I lift my face up from his neck to look at him, “We have nothing to lose at this point then, huh?”

I slowly lick my lips, and his eyes drop to them. The only noise left in the restaurant is our heavy breathing. “Round two in Namjoon’s office?” he suggests.

“Bet.”

a/n: this was so fun to write :) hope you all enjoyed it! happy valentine’s day!

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- THE PREQUEL- Part 1 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

so basically,,,, i took my adhd meds for class this morning, and then suddenly got super inspired to write this, so i figured i couldnt waste the focus and wrote this whole ass thing in a few hours. this is the first part of a 3-part prequel series, which details the events leading up to the first part of iiw! just a whole lot more teen angst, drama, fuckboy michael, and more... there isn’t going to be any SMUT smut for obvious reasons, but in a future part there is going to be some dirty stuff ;) anyway i know this will prob flop but this is the first full length fic i’ve written in months and i had a lot of fun writing it, so ima post regardless ^__^

plot: things are turning upside for you now that the biggest fuckboy in school, michael langdon, is about to become your stepbrother. if you think shit is crazy now, wait til you find out that this is just the prequel 😏

warnings: underage drinking, talk of sexual shit, teen angst, sexual tension, taboo relationships 

wc: 4.2k 

i.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

You did, of course you did.

You’d seen him, engulfed in his loneliness, floating from day to listless day like some kind of cheesy Victorian spectre. Too many times you’d found him alone at night, one hand cradling a glass of sewer-brown liquor, the other thumbing through worn photo albums extracted from dust-ridden shelves in the living room. You hadn’t known your mother well- she’d died back when you were still in diapers, but what you did know was that she’d been a vibrant light in your father’s world that had been unjustly snuffed out in its prime. He was a good father to you, and you knew you made him happy despite the dull ache ever-present in his heart, but it was evident that deep down he craved a companionship you could never provide.

So of course you were glad when he met Miriam. Of course you were glad when you’d seen his beaming smile, sharing the news, with the giddiness of a teenage girl in love, that he’d found somebody. He was practically glowing, that night he’d gone out for their first date. You’d known it’d been special to him, because he’d shelled out a few hundred to treat them both to a fancy dinner; he’d even gotten her a bouquet of flowers on the drive there.

You hadn’t said anything when he’d gushed to you the next day about how he’d found the one, despite having known her for only a week; sure, he was rushing into things, but at least he was happy! And that was all you wanted- for him to be happy.

That was why you were especially crushed when you finally met Miriam’s teenage son, whom your father had briefly mentioned with a passing “he goes to your high school, maybe you know him”.

There were so many boys at your school that it was impossible to guess who your potential stepbrother might be. The prospect that you might know him didn’t bother you too much, though you did think it might be a little awkward upon first meeting, but really what did it matter? A little bit of teenage shyness was a small price to pay for your father’s newfound happiness.

That is, until you met him.

So really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

That wasn’t the case at all.

You just really, really, wished he’d fallen in love with anyone other than the mother of Michael fucking Langdon.

ii.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” Miriam gushed over a glass of Chardonnay, which had already been defaced with aubergine lip prints around the golden rim. “Gosh, I just wish I had your hair. Mine was fried from years of coloring, so I just chopped it all off!”

You smiled sweetly, observing your father’s glimmering eyes as he hung onto every word that rolled off her tongue, menus still stacked neatly in the middle of the table as you awaited the fourth and final guest. The three of you had been there for fifteen minutes already, and still her son had not arrived.

I guess his study session is running late, she’d explained, after seeing your furrowed brows at her lack of accompaniment. It was the first time you were meeting your father’s new love interest and her son, and you were rapidly growing more and more anxious in anticipation of the big reveal.

Studying, you’d thought, racking your brain. So maybe he’s one of the nerdy teacher’s pet types? You could certainly live with that; there were a great deal of others you could think of who would be far worse to potentially become step-siblings with.

“Thanks, Ms… Mead, did you say it was?”

You weren’t sure you knew of any boys whose last name was Mead; he definitely had to be someone you hardly knew.

“Oh, honey, call me Miriam,” she said warmly, and you nodded, unsure of what to say next.

Miriam was certainly not what you’d imagined your father’s girlfriend to be like, not that you cared either way; she sported short, dark hair with vampy makeup, clad in all black with a tasteful leather jacket to match. She was also a bit older than you’d anticipated, with fine lines adorning her rounded face, but again, none of that mattered to you at all. She seemed perfectly sweet, and you had no complaints about her thus far.

“Okay, Miriam,” you said, feeling somewhat peculiar addressing an adult by their first name, “so, remind me, how’d you guys meet again?”

“Well, it’s a funny story, really,” Miriam chuckled, plucking a dinner roll from the woven basket across from her and dropping it onto her plate. Her dark eyes shifted from you to your father, poising an impeccably groomed raven brow. “Should you tell it, or should I?”

“Oh, you should, definitely,” your father said, sipping his wine.

“Okay, okay. Well, we were in the meat section at the grocery store when we both reached for the last steak on sale. So I looked at him, and I told him- oh my, this is embarrassing- (your dad’s name), you finish!”

Your father looked like he was about to bust out into laughter, and, suppressing a snort, he blurted, “she said she’d cut off my hands if I took it!”

Immediately after the words left his lips, the two fell into boisterous hysterics that ushered forward a few disapproving glances from the stuffy rich assholes at the next table over, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little yourself. Well… she definitely was a character, but as long as your father was being kept entertained…

“Hey mom,” came a sudden, inappropriately loud male voice from behind you, so out of place that you nearly jumped from your seat. “I was helping Dan with the world war three chapter in our textbook, he sucks at geography shit.”

The voice’s owner revealed himself as a tall, blond boy, who promptly slid into the empty chair beside you, chiseled face slightly obscured by the deep shadows resulting from the dimness of the restaurant’s ambient lighting.

This was, indeed, somebody that you knew, and you blinked twice to be sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

It took you a few seconds to register the direness of the situation at hand, but once the thought processed in your mind, you about descended into an out-of-body experience.

This couldn’t be.

No way.

No motherfucking way.

You’d never been all too much of a religious person, but in that moment, you found yourself silently begging whatever higher power was out there that this was all just some sick, cosmic prank.

The boy turned his head to give you a good, uncomfortably long look, stupidly perfect mouth twisting into an amused sideways grin, and then he spoke. “Ohh shit, (y/n)? (Y/n) (y/l/n)?”

He spoke your name like it was a punchline, tongue darting out to lick his teeth like a lizard about to gobble up some poor, helpless cricket as you sat there with your jaw unhinged. You were at a loss for words, or at least almost, managing to croak out a pathetic, puny, “Michael.”

“Oh, good! You guys know each other already!” Miriam exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to the complete and utter horror that had just about finished swallowing you whole.

Michael let out a snort, roughly translating to ‘uhh, yeah, not that well… I’d never be caught dead hanging around with someone like (y/n)’, and you grimaced. “Yeah, a little bit. You were in math class with me last year, right?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to regain your composure for fear of feeding into this complete asshole’s already massive ego. Yeah, in fact, you had been in math class with him last year, and, not-so-coincidentally, that very same class had turned out to be the one you dreaded the most.

Michael Langdon was the most insufferable, mind-numbing, self-obsessed asshole that you’d ever had the displeasure of knowing; he was easily the most popular boy in the grade, and it was clear he was fully aware of his own high school bullshit prestige. He was loud, cocky and obnoxious; the type of fuckboy- yes, you knew the word fuckboy was overplayed, but in this case there was no other way to describe him- who’d loudly brag about his sexual escapades in the middle of the hallway to his flock of adoring fuckboy minions. He was an I-don’t-do-relationships type, a U-up-text-at-3am type, a Yo-dude-did-you-see-Zoe-Benson’s-tits-today type, a bro-I’m-so-fucking-baked-right-now type. Just the sound of his voice from across a crowded hallway was enough to make you physically recoil. And the worst part?

Every-fucking-body loved him.

Your complaints about him during lunch would only result in your friends cooing dreamily, as though he were some kind of sympathetic creature that needed babying: But he’s so cute, they’d say, twirling locks of their hair and fiddling with their bracelets. I’m sure he’s not that bad.

But he was that bad, and if they took off their shit-stained, teenage hormone-clouded rose tinted glasses for only a second, they’d see exactly what you saw.

It wasn’t only the students, either. He was able to get away with everything and anything he pleased, whether it be sneaking sips of vodka in a water bottle between classes or ditching class to smoke a joint behind the bleachers. There’d even been rumors that he’d fucked some senior girl in the handicap stall during the autumn pep rally while the rest of the student body was packed like sardines in the sticky-hot gymnasium, subjected to incremental barks from the football coach to scream louder and louder.

How the hell was somebody as pleasant as Miriam the mother of such an incurable douchebag? And how, in all the unholy realms of hell, did your luck get so miserably bad that she ended up with your father?

It was all so fucking unfortunate that you almost wanted to laugh. And you probably would have, if not for the chance that you might puke all over your nice new sweater if you opened your mouth.

“You smell funny, hon,” said Miriam before you could reply. “Was Dan burning incense in his room?”

Oh, god. So she was one of those oblivious parents. You rolled your eyes; it made a lot of sense when you thought about it.

“Huh? Oh. Um, yeah. Incense,” Michael said, before suddenly extending his arm across the table to your father. “Oh shit, how rude of me. I’m Michael. Nice to meet you, man.”

Your father seemed unfazed my Michael’s distinct lack of manners as he accepted the boy’s hand and shook it, and you felt yet another knot twist up in the pit of your stomach as you realized that your father, too, had somehow been cast under Michael’s spell.

“Michael, we talked about this,” Miriam said under her breath, like she was scolding a child who didn’t know any better. “Keep the potty mouth to a minimal when we’re out in public, especially while we’re in such a nice restaurant.”

“Oh, sh…oot, sorry, mom,” Michael said with a faux-sheepish smile, his eyes flickering with amusement despite his supposed remorse. “And sorry to you too, sir. Bad habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike- can I call you Mike?” your father said as they released hands, moving his to rest atop Miriam’s on the cloth-sheathed table. “I remember what it was like being a boy your age.”

You scoffed, loud enough that the table fell silent for a moment, and quickly you disguised it with a cough. Your cheeks went hot as all eyes laid on you, and you frantically scanned your brain for something to fill the silence with.

“So, um,” you said, clearing your throat. “Michael’s, uh, how come Michael’s last name isn’t Mead?”

Fuck. That sounded so fucking stupid. Instinctively, you felt your eyes wander to Michael to see if he was laughing at you, which you hated yourself for; why should his stupid, pea-brained opinion mean anything to you anyway? As much as you wanted to distance yourself from that idiotic, made-up high school hierarchy, you always wound up finding yourself being sucked back in, it seemed.

“Well, my late husband’s last name was Langdon, and since he was kind of a dirtbag, I decided not to keep his name after he passed,” Miriam said slowly, as if taking very careful thought to word herself correctly. You took in a breath; this seemed like a whole new can of worms that you hadn’t meant to open up.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t talk about dad like that,” said Michael, his tone only half-playful, eyebrow cocking as he flashed his mother a knowing look.

“You try being cheated on multiple times, Michael. Then you’ll see that dirtbag is really a nice way of putting it.”

Oh, sure, you thought bitterly. As if Michael fucking Langdon is even remotely capable of understanding someone else’s pain.

You took this as your cue to stand up from your seat, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom before scurrying off in the opposite direction as fast as you could without drawing attention to yourself. If ten minutes with Michael as your psuedo-stepbrother got to you this badly, you could only imagine how awful your life was about to get.

You could only hope that your father would find some reason to nip things in the bud with Miriam, but right now, that appeared to be an unlikely prospect.

iii.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t end my shit right here and now,” you griped to your best friend, who sat crosslegged on your bed as you stood idly before your floor-length mirror, arms dangling limply at your sides in an unintentional stance of defeat. Your face was one that you hardly recognized anymore, forehead creased with worry and eyes shadowed by bruise-colored rings from a seemingly endless barrage of sleepless nights; a week ago, your father had gleefully announced his and Miriam’s engagement; you of course, as his loving daughter, had to behave as though you hadn’t just received the worst news of your life, which somehow you’d pulled off (for a second you wondered why you’d never taken up theater, seeing at how convincing your acting could be sometimes). It was like you’d been plucked from the familiarity of your boring, normal world and dropped into your own personally tailored hell without any warning at all, though you couldn’t think of a single thing you’d done bad enough to warrant you deserving this. “The worst person on the planet is about to be my fucking stepbrother and nobody else seems to think this is a big deal!”

Your best friend shook her head, letting out a snort as if any of this was even remotely funny in the slightest. “So your stepbrother is hot and cool and he pisses you off. They literally make porn about that.”

You resisted the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her until some semblance of sense entered her head, instead shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans with a loud huff. “Yeah, but this isn’t fucking pornhub, (best friend’s name), this is real life! And I’d rather skin myself alive than sleep with that walking STD.”

“You have a lot more self respect than I do. It’s admirable,” she said, still startlingly calm for your liking, and you were beginning to believe that she’d never understand the mental turmoil you were currently suffering with. “Personally I’d ride him into the sunset, whether he had a herpes dick or not.”

You gagged, shaking your head with adamant disgust. Was she really that fucking horny? “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Sick for diiiiick,” she sang back, batting her eyelashes playfully at you. You turned away, scrounging up every weary shred of self restraint within you not to scream.

“Look, (b/f/n). I’m being serious right now. If you fuck him, or suck his dick, or whatever, I will literally never speak to you again.” Your tone was stern, and you faced her again to see whether your seriousness had computed in the hormonal wasteland that was her brain. There was an extended pause as she blinked at you, tilting her head to one side thoughtfully as she chewed her lipgloss-slick bottom lip.

“I mean, he wouldn’t fuck me anyways,” she finally said, still infuriatingly chipper. “I’m nobody. And he’s, like, royalty.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t care whether you think you have a chance with him!” You realized too late that you were nearly shouting, so you took in a shaky gulp of oxygen and coaxed yourself to soften your tone. The last thing you needed right now was for people to think you were losing your mind, although sometimes that was exactly what you felt like was happening. “Please, just promise me you won’t? I just need one aspect of my life not to involve him. Please?”

“Okay, fine,” she said, drawing her knees to her chest and settling her chin on top. “If it really matters that much to you, I’ll just shift my thirst to Dan Mott instead. That boy is a fucking snack and a half.”

A wave of almost-relief cascaded over your body, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself become one with this momentary victory.  

One year. Just one stupid, insignificant year until I can go away to college and forget all about him.

If you could survive that much, you told yourself, you’d be able survive anything.

You just hoped that intoxicating spell of his wasn’t strong enough to bring your best friend into his web of bullshit, alongside all the other girls who’d become entangled along the way.

If she did, you’d be stranded, left to run from Michael and his ever-expanding army all on your own.

iv.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the dreaded date of your father’s wedding ceremony arrived; now you stood amidst a small group of distant relatives at the subdued reception party, seeking refuge from the disturbing thought that, legally, Michael Langdon was now your brother, at the open bar.

You and your best friend had decided to make something of a game out of how many drinks you could finagle from the bartender without any adults noticing, which had ultimately proved to be pointless- an hour into the reception, your father had staggered over with two overflowing dirty Shirleys, thrusting them towards the two of you with a big, sloppy grin on his face.

To say he was in a good mood would be a severe understatement- the man was jovial, and you almost felt guilty for hating the circumstances of his marriage so much. By the raised-brow looks your best friend had been shooting at you all night, you knew she was thinking the same thing: that you were being selfish for worrying so much about yourself when this was the best thing that’d happened to your father in years. And maybe it was true; maybe you’d been so wrapped up in your own teen angst bullshit that you’d willingly blinded yourself from the truth. So, with your father’s beaming face dancing in the back of your mind, you pushed any thought about Michael back to the dredges where they belonged.

Fuck Michael Langdon. You couldn’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing that you were distraught, though you’d surely already made that pretty obvious over the past few months (he’d wasted no time in taunting you about it, seeming to relish in your death glares and eye rolls- hey, future sis! he’d crooned at you as you passed his table in the cafeteria one afternoon, nearly causing you to trip and spill your perfectly mediocre iced coffee all over yourself as his friends cackled like demented hyenas).

I’m not gonna let him bother me anymore.

I’m not gonna let him bother me anymore.

I’m not-

“SIS-TERRRRRR!”

Okay, this had to be some kind of divine test of will.

A blazer-glad arm flung itself around your shoulders and you flinched, immediately jerking away from your intoxicated stepbrother (god, it felt weird to refer to him that way) whose brash motions had sent you both stumbling.

“Getting shitfaced at your mom’s wedding… classy,” you spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest and narrowing your eyes at the blond-haired boy.

He was, admittedly, good-looking (only by conventional standards, of course); his lightly gelled blond hair had long since come undone, now soft and unkempt from hours of attention-whorish dancing, but you thought the disheveled look suited him better anyway (since his whole thing was to look like a grimy, rugged fuckboy, not because you personally found it attractive, obviously). He’d undone the top few buttons of his white top (no doubt the only formal article of clothing he owned), which was now stained beyond foreseeable repair with a colorful variety of liquids, and there was a bead of sweat traveling from his slick forehead to his model-sharp jaw. Even in disarray, he looked good, and you couldn’t help but hate him for it.

“God, you are so uptight,” he said, pale eyes flickering towards the multicolored ceiling in exaggerated annoyance as he dragged out his syllables with leisure. “You need to relax, set up a dick appointment or something. Or pussy appointment, I don’t know what you’re into.”

Your mouth fell open at this remark, too stunned by his vulgarity to even get angry with your friend, who had dissolved into a fit of giggles beside you; it wasn’t that you were some pearl-clutching grandmother- you had no issue discussing sexual matters with your friends, and in fact some would even say you had a perverted sense of humor. But this? This was different: something about the way those words had fallen from Michael’s mouth made you feel dirty.

At your lack of response, Michael flashed a pearly grin that could only be categorized as evil, and he crossed his arms to mimic your stance. “Oh, sorry. I forgot that you’re probably still a virgin.”

He glanced over to your friend, whose feeble attempts to suppress her second wave of laughter had proven unsuccessful, before averting his gaze back to you. “Aw, don’t feel bad, (y/n). There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer.”

Then, as if to punctuate his words, he smirked.

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, you felt something like a storm swirling inside of you, winds thick and unyielding and relentless, and you were almost positive that you’d tear him apart once the feeling aligned with the rest of your body.

It was then that the song blaring through the speakers switched to something inappropriately upbeat, each thump of the dance-friendly bass feeling like punches to the gut.

The storm inside you hadn’t been giving way to anger at all; it was sadness you were feeling in your belly, hopeless and humiliated sadness, though you couldn’t quite understand why: he’d made some stupid, generic joke to try and get a rise out of you- what else was new these days? Maybe it was the fact that your best friend was, by her passiveness and obvious amusement at your expense, encouraging his taunts when she was supposed to be there for you. Or maybe the reality had finally, finally sunken in, that this kind of interaction with Michael would now consume your life for the next year.

Either way, it didn’t make a difference, and as if on cue, the familiar sting of unshed tears arrived patiently at the back of your eyes.

All at once you were were dizzy; Michael’s perfect face was doubling and distorting before your eyes, and your friend’s pitched laughter rang like incessant, robotic television static in your ears.

With very last straw of self preservation you could grasp, you said nothing at all, walking away with the dazed sluggishness of a zombie on autopilot.

You considered yourself lucky; soon enough, you wouldn’t have the luxury of walking away at all.

“She’s too sensitive,” you heard your friend say, faintly, in the background of your thoughts.

You didn’t have the energy to wonder why she wasn’t coming with you, much less the energy to chastise her for being a bad friend, which was what you knew she deserved. If she cared more about getting Michael’s attention than preserving her friendship with you, you supposed there was no use in trying to stop her anymore.

He’s like a disease, you thought as you ambled your way towards the bathroom, surrounded by people but yet still so alone. He’s like a disease, infecting everyone he touches.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before he got to you, too.

Who knew? Maybe he already had.

tagging some people from my old iiw tag list!: (i’m sorry if i tagged anyone twice, i’m literally half asleep right now cuz i got like 2 hours of sleep in the past 24 hrs lol) @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney  @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer  @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri  @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast  @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy  @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon  @codycrazy @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation  @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @lvngdvns​ @langdonskillerqueen​ @aradevil​ @anemia-doll​ @muralskins​ @funtomimagines​ @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes​ @our-mrlangdon​ @lotsofhunny​ @sevenwonderwitch​ @horrorstreet​ @kpopmademedo-it​ @naughtygranger​ @codyshands​ @krazycags01​ @skullag​